If We Were Giants

by Dave Matthews

  Taro traced a circle around the perimeter of the storytelling space, rhythmically thumping his cane just a few inches from the wide-eyed kids in the front row. “It is in the demons’ nature to burn…to consume…to destroy. Anything they can get their hands on becomes a charred and black nothing. Your beautiful home, your most cherished possessions”—Taro leaned forward, scowling, and stage-whispered into the face of a young girl—“even your loved ones.”

  Taro resumed his pacing. “And they can hear you down there, you know. Oh, aye, they can hear you very well. The pounding of your footsteps keeps them constantly awake and agitated, fueling their rage. So you would do well to remember this: Every time you bounce a ball, or play a game of tag, or enjoy yourself at a village dance, you are only stoking the demons’ unquenchable desire for vengeance.

  “Trust me, good people of Lukweii, each one of those demons would like nothing better than to escape from their underground prison”—Taro crept closer to the crowd—“and take their red-hot claws”—closer now—“and GRAB you!” Here Taro lunged at the nearest boy in the front row, thumping him in the chest with that cane. The boy screamed and scrambled backward to the laughter and jeers of his surrounding friends. Taro fixed one of those giggling youngsters with a stare. “Then they would drag you underground and slowly roast you alive.” The boy’s smirk faded as the flickering shadows played across Taro’s scowling face.

  Paja then launched into the backstory of these hideous creatures. How they used to be a proud race who lived aboveground—just like the people of this very village—but they displeased the gods so greatly with their greedy and violent ways that they were turned into fire demons and trapped underground for thousands of years.

  But Kirra was only half listening to this part, which she knew by heart. Instead, she studied the faces of the villagers. She loved how everyone, not just the kids but also the adults throughout the crowd, reacted to Taro’s words. Glancing uneasily at the ground, eyes growing wide, sharing a meaningful look with their neighbor, gasping in surprise. Taro had all of them on an invisible leash and was leading them right where he wanted them to go, just like always.

  When Taro bent down to scoop up a handful of dirt, she started paying attention to him again. Her favorite part was coming up.

  “. . . and so, at the end of the day, what is protecting any of us?” Taro looked at his fist, where he was letting the dust sift through his fingers to blow away on the breeze. “A few feet of dirt. Just a thin crust between you and the legion of powerful supernatural creatures that want nothing more than to destroy you and everyone you know.”

  Taro was quiet for several moments, letting that threat sink in. When he spoke again, it was nearly a whisper, and the entire village had to lean in to hear.

  “But there are certain places, my friends…places too frightening even to think about…places where the fire demons are able to escape their underground prison and come out into the light of day.”

  Taro fell silent once again, and Kirra could hear the word as it was passed through the crowd in hushed tones.

  Volcanoes.

  “I have traveled far, and I have seen these spaces where the fire demons have beaten so hard against the roof of their prison that great cracks in the land have opened right up.”

  Taro shook his head sadly. “The gods have tried to help. They build great mountains on top of these Earth scars, attempting to keep a lid on the boiling cauldron of malevolence that threatens us all.”

  Another dramatic pause. Kirra studied his technique, what Taro was doing to get the timing just right. Because she could practically feel the entire assembly holding their collective breath for the next part.

  Her father sighed heavily. “But even the gods have their limitations, my friends. And the seething hatred of the fire demons is so potent, sometimes nothing can be done to keep it from bubbling over and scorching the land.”

  Whoosh!

  The bonfire exploded, the flames leaping twenty, thirty, forty feet in the air. The entire village circle was made bright as noon for a moment, and Kirra could feel the flash of heat on her face even though she was way in the back. People screamed and covered their eyes, then laughed nervously at the reactions of their neighbors.

  Kirra knew that Taro had slipped a hand into his cloak during the buildup to the big moment, gathered a handful of highly flammable powder, and tossed it into the fire while he was gesturing during his story. She also knew he was now preparing for his next trick.

  “What happens then is more destructive than anything you have ever seen. Nay, anything you have ever imagined. For when the chaos of the Underworld is unleashed, nothing can stand in its path. Why, the heat gets so intense…”

  Taro paused and snatched up a smallish rock from the ground.

  “. . . the heat gets so intense, the very stones of the land melt and form puddles.”

  As he was saying this, Taro’s fist closed over the rock. A thick goo dripped through his fingers and splattered on the ground. The crowd gasped.

  Kirra grinned. While the exploding bonfire was bigger and showier, she appreciated the melting rock trick more. First, you had to retrieve the packet of goo from your pocket and subtly cup it in your palm without anyone noticing. Then you had to send the rock sliding down your sleeve without making any unnatural movements. Finally, you had to time the dripping of the goo with the disappearance of the rock so they looked like one and the same. She had been practicing for six months and was just now getting to the point where she could pull off the trick. Well, kind of. With very small pebbles, anyway.

  “The flame races like a river, cascading down the sides of the volcano and streaming across the fields.” Taro resumed the narrative, using hand gestures and sweeps of his cane to emphasize the power of the mighty volcano. “There is no way to stop it. The entire village, and everyone in it, would simply…be…gone.”

  Taro shook his head sadly. “The only solution, my friends, is to stay far, far away from any volcano. Do not build anything you care about anywhere near its cursed base, and—if you value your life—do not even go hiking near one of these blights on our land. A volcano is a dark place, my friends…a place where the gods have failed.”

  Even though Taro altered the details of the fire demons saga each year, the conclusion was always the same. A collective shiver went through the crowd at his final words, and all were silent as they watched her father, his head bowed reverently. Kirra was confident that this had been another successful contest. The only thing left to do now was load up the cart with their winnings—sacks of grain, salted meats, and crop seeds—and start the trek homeward in the morning. Kirra stretched her arms over her head and yawned. It would be good to get a few hours’ sleep before their journey.

  “But what of the Takers?” someone yelled, shattering the silence. “Will no one tell a story about them?”

  Kirra’s head snapped back to the festival. No one ever interrupted the finale of a storytelling contest.

  She watched as a man jumped up from where he was seated in the crowd and marched right into the storytellers’ circle. The style and color of his robes marked him as another outsider, a visitor from a neighboring village, perhaps.

  Taro backed away from the intruder, his eyes searching for Kirra in the crowd.

  The newcomer pointed at Taro while he stared out at the assembled villagers. “You would sit here and listen to fairy tales instead of a true warning.” He shook his head. “I don’t have any fancy tricks. I can’t make the fire dance up into the night sky or turn rocks into liquid. All I can do is relate what I have seen with my own eyes.”

  Taro was still scanning the crowd, and Kirra waved to him. Spotting her, he exited the circle and made his way through the crowd as quickly as he could, elbowing people roughly out of the way. Kirra had never seen her father do anything like that.

  “The Takers—they came last year to the fishing village where I grew up,” the strange man continued. “Arrived on great ships
. We had never seen anything like them.”

  The village elder who had lit the bonfire to start the festivities entered the circle, flanked by two strong men. “The contest is over, my friend,” he said, motioning for the newcomer to follow him out of the circle.

  But the new storyteller ignored them, facing the crowd and raising his voice. “These Takers. They are monstrous. In the space of just a few months, they had overrun my beloved village, enslaved my people.” His voice shook with emotion. “They took everything. I barely escaped.”

  Kirra scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion. What kind of a story was this? She scanned the faces of the crowd and could tell the villagers were thinking the same thing. Instead of the rapt expressions she’d seen during Taro’s tales, she saw people glancing around at one another, looking a little nervous or uncomfortable. A few young children started crying.

  The village elder and his two strong friends closed in on the man, but he backed away, his voice frantic now. “You must listen!” the man cried. “Please! I did not come here to entertain. I came to issue a warning. You must listen, and you must act. All of you.”

  Kirra jumped in surprise when Taro grabbed her by the arm, so wrapped up in the ranting of this strange man that she had lost track of her father in the crowd. “Gather your things,” Taro said through clenched teeth. “We’re leaving.”

  “Now?” Kirra said. “What about the prize?”

  “You know we don’t need it. Now let’s go.”

  “But we’ve never left this early—”

  “Now, Kirra.” Taro spoke in his sternest Volcano Man voice. There was no arguing with that.

  He started pulling the cart away before Kirra had even jumped down from her perch. The man in the circle rushed to finish his tale before he was caught up and forcibly removed. “I escaped to a village near here, on the south side of the volcano. Nafaluu. You must have heard of it. Near the waterfall, yes? The cliffs? A beautiful place.” His voice rose to a shout. “And I am here to tell you that a group of Takers was spotted in the area just last month. They are spreading! Please hear me, good people, the Takers have come!”

  “Don’t listen to him.” Taro’s voice was a sheet of ice.

  The cart was nearly to the village gates, but Kirra craned her neck to look back over her shoulder. The man was shouting now as he was being dragged away. “You must not let the Takers anywhere near here! You must be vigilant and protect yourselves. Or your village will be the next to be taken!”

  THE NEXT MORNING, Kirra awoke to birdsong in her ears and sunlight warm on her face. The cart was gently rocking as Taro pulled it along the path. He strode upright, the cane no longer in his hands, and his gait was sure and strong. She lifted her head out of the tangle of blankets and saw that they were nearly home.

  “Paja? Did you walk all night?”

  “Aye,” Taro said without turning around.

  Kirra stretched and yawned, then climbed out of the blankets, hopped down to the ground, and fell into step beside him, working the kinks out of her sleepy legs. The eye patch and the tooth black and the dirt were all gone. The Volcano Man was just her father again.

  “Do you want me to take a turn pulling the cart?”

  “No, that’s okay, little one.” Taro finally looked over at her and offered a shadow of a smile. “It’s a lot easier now that you’re out of it. Did you get some good sleep?”

  Kirra nodded. They walked along in silence for a while, the sun rising higher in the sky and growing warmer on her patches of bare skin. She wasn’t sure how to ask him what she wanted to. As she had drifted off to sleep, all she could think about was the look on his face as he had grabbed her and hustled her out of the village while that man told his strange tale.

  Finally she broached the subject. “Paja… ?”

  “Yes, my dear?”

  “That strange story last night…you don’t think…I mean, there’s no chance any of that was true, right?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” The smile faded from Taro’s eyes. “A story is true if people believe it. You know that.”

  “Got it.” That was a relief. “So he’s just doing what we do, then. Right?”

  Taro gave her a look. “How do you mean?”

  “He’s making up scary stories so people will stay away from that village. Nafaluu.”

  Taro set his jaw and shifted his eyes back to the road ahead. “Perhaps.”

  “Because he talked about the settlement by the cliffs, with the waterfall behind it. That’s where we went on my first trip Outside, remember? It was sooooo pretty. And there were no weird Taker people there.”

  “That was a year ago, Kirra.”

  “Wait—so you think maybe what he was talking about was really true true? Not just story true?”

  It was a long time before Taro answered. “I don’t know, Kirra. Much can happen in a year.”

  “But what if he—?”

  “We’ll talk no more about it just now.” Taro sighed. He turned to look at her again, placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I’m sorry if that came out with a sharp tone. I just need some time to think, aye? We will discuss it again before we go Outside the next time.”

  Kirra placed her hand on top of his. It was warm and reassuring. Just like always. “Okay, Paja.”

  It was easy to put it out of her mind just then, because she recognized the slow curve their path was taking as it followed the river, and she knew that just on the other side of it was Zedu.

  That was a warm and reassuring feeling, too. Because as much as she enjoyed being Outside, she had to admit that she also liked coming home. Sure, she had seen many interesting things and people. But she loved her own friends and family. Yes, even Tiko.

  As they rounded that bend in the path, the volcano rose dramatically from the ground in front of them. Clouds of smoke drifted out of the crater way up at the top, making it look like the volcano was on the verge of erupting and spewing molten lava all over the surrounding fields at any moment.

  “I wonder who’s on smoke duty this morning,” she said.

  “Probably the Calla twins.”

  Kirra had to grin at that. The Zedu elders had chosen well when giving that job to the twins. Keeping the fires stoked just inside the rim of the volcano all through the day and night was a long and potentially boring task. But the twins were inseparable, and they kept each other company the whole time with no complaints. And if one of them snuck a nap on the job, well, the other one was there to take care of things.

  She was glad she hadn’t been chosen to be a Helper for smoke duty. It would be so dull to sit in the same exact spot all the time. But as she looked at the crater, hundreds of feet above their heads, she had to admit that at least the view would be spectacular.

  Kirra breathed deeply and smiled. It was good to be back, and she couldn’t wait to tell Tiko about the strange story she’d heard in Lukweii. Kirra and her father marched along toward their big, beautiful volcano home.

  AS SHE TRUDGED UP the steep slope with her father, Kirra scanned the hillside’s thickets of brush and jumbles of rock formations. Even though she had approached from the Outside multiple times now, her trained eye simply could not find the hidden entrance. Was it there, by the sagebrush and the… ? No, that was just a trick of shadow and light. Kirra held a hand above her eyes to block out the sun and squinted as she made her way up the volcano wall. Could it be over there, behind that gnarled scrub pine? Maybe, but then why wasn’t—

  “Gotcha!”

  Kirra let out a squeal as she was grabbed around the waist. She spun around to find her friend Tatuu, who had slipped out of a crack in the hillside surrounded by a clump of thorny bushes. The girl threw back her head and laughed, her unruly nest of hair flopping all over. “The look on your face gets better every time.”

  Kirra placed a hand over her racing heart and blew out a stream of air. “If you keep doing that, I might just stop coming home altogether.”

  “Girls, hush now.” K
uzo, one of the official Watchers at this post, peeked his head out of the narrow opening in the rock wall and shook a finger at Tatuu. “A good Helper should know better. Come inside.” He beckoned them forward and nodded at Kirra’s father. “Welcome back, Taro. You must be glad to be safely home after your travels.”

  Taro made a fist and touched it to his forehead. “Zedu provides,” he said in greeting.

  As Kirra slipped through the crack and made her way through the twisting tunnel carved into the rock, she once again marveled at how so many Zeduans, even the grown-ups, seemed intimidated by the prospect of going Outside. It gave her a little thrill of self-satisfaction to know that she had seen things that few of them ever would.

  But as she emerged from the tunnel onto a ledge inside the volcano crater, she had to admit it was good to be back home. One of the benefits of traveling Outside was being able to see Zedu through fresh eyes whenever she returned, and feelings of awe and pride reawakened each time. The morning sunlight filtered through the opening far above, softly illuminating the intricate levels of terraces that made up their concealed community. Dozens of great overlapping ridges carved into the rock rose over her head and fell away beneath her, like a giant’s spiral staircase. Some had groupings of huts for the various clans in little villages, others supported land for crops or livestock or places of gathering. And far below, at the very bottom of the volcano’s interior, was the pool of fresh springwater that served as the lifeblood of the community.

  But Kirra didn’t have time to dwell on the amazing architectural accomplishments of countless generations of Zeduan people, because Tiko spotted her right away. He must have been scoping out the hidden entrance since sunup, waiting all morning for their return.

  “Kirra!” He raced over and tugged at her cloak. “How was the Outside this time?” he asked eagerly.

  “Oh, you know”—she shrugged as casually as possible—“it was pretty good, I guess.” Kirra faked a big yawn.

  “Stop teasing!” Tiko put his hands on his hips. “Was it amazing? Tell me!”