Kirra turned to face him. “Yes?”
“Well, these Taker people found us because the river got lower than normal with the long dry season. So they came over here to hunt.” The man pulled on his beard, glancing around at the crowd and seeming to realize for the first time just how many people he was addressing. But he gathered his courage and pressed on. “You never told us how it happened at the volcano place, though. I mean, if you were all so well hidden for so long…how did they find you?”
Kirra calmly looked back at the man. Instead of being filled with dread at this question, as she expected would happen, she felt a sense of relief. If she were ever truly going to be a part of the Tree Folk, a full member of Luwan’s family, she was going to have to be honest. About everything. And if they kicked her out, then that was what was meant to be. She would prefer an honest exile to staying here in deceit.
She pivoted to look at Luwan’s family, making eye contact with each of them in turn, and then faced the old man again. “It was my fault,” she said loudly. “I snuck out one night against the will of my parents. I wanted to gather information on the Takers—to help protect my community. I found their camp, but I became frightened of what I discovered. I lost my nerve and escaped, and I tried to sneak back home, but they followed me. It all happened very quickly after that. Over the course of the next day and night, my community was destroyed.”
Kirra hadn’t truly noticed the pressing weight that had been stooping her shoulders and bearing down on her chest for years, making it difficult for her to take a full breath, until it lifted with those words.
She felt new. Remade.
It was completely quiet in the clearing after Kirra’s confession. She stood there, very still, and waited for whatever would come next.
“Loba!” someone called from high up in a tree. “Why did you bring her into our forest? She admits to already destroying one community.”
“Yeah!” A cry from the other side of the clearing. “She’s dangerous. Why should we listen to her?”
“She doesn’t belong here!”
“She never belonged here!”
There were rumblings from all sides. Loba shifted uneasily, looking unsure how to respond.
Kirra had the same thought she’d had in the hunters’ camp: People were capable of anything when they were scared.
One man broke away from those sitting in the clearing, standing up and stalking directly toward the ridge. Kirra tensed.
But as he got closer, Kirra recognized the braids and the smooth, easy gait. She started to breathe again.
Mome climbed up the side of the ridge, his scarred and powerful hands finding sure grip on the stone. He stood beside Kirra and stared down the audience until the murmured protests faded completely. Then he addressed the assembly.
“I, too, was not born in the branches. I have traveled widely across this big world.” He pointed around at the crowd. “This has been a reason many of you don’t trust me fully. I accept that. However, it is the main reason you should listen to me now and heed my words.
“You people are fortunate to have spent all your days here. This is a special place. It is beautiful and peaceful, and you have taken good care of it.
“But while what you have here is unique, there are, unfortunately, people like the Takers all over, in every land.” He put his arm around Kirra. “This brave young lady did not bring the Takers to her home. They were already on their way. They started their inevitable march to that volcano when time began.
“Yes, perhaps the actions of a frightened young girl cracked the door open a bit sooner than it might have been opened otherwise. But the Takers were coming, and they would have kicked down that door eventually no matter what.”
He paused, looking around slowly, eyes boring into any member of the audience who dared to meet his gaze. “And now they are on your doorstep. How you choose to deal with them is up to you.”
Mome raised his voice, and it rang out to every corner of the clearing. “This girl is not condemning you. She is trying to save you. And you would do well to respect her words and do what she says.”
He pulled Kirra closer and hugged her. “Did you hear what I said, meerkat?” he whispered in her ear. “The terrible things that happened were not your fault. You have to understand that.”
She had been waiting years for someone to say these words. Mome had not just said them to her; he had stood there in the first public meeting in Tree Folk history and told everyone. She had no words of her own beyond thank you.
She felt more arms around her and looked up to see that Maham had joined them. She was quickly followed by Luwan and Loba. All four of them held a grateful Kirra in their collective embrace.
Teeha left her brothers and climbed the ridge, then Makina and Kharee and Mozan did the same.
The little group huddled together on the outcropping of stone, loving and supporting Kirra in front of everyone who made up their world.
Finally, the man with the gray beard spoke up again, loud enough for everyone in the clearing to hear. “I heard your story, young woman. With my ears”—he thumped his chest—“and with my heart.” He pulled on his beard and looked around at the audience before turning back to Kirra. “Okay, then. What is it you want us to do?”
TEEHA MOTIONED TO HER BROTHERS, and they made their way to the top of the ridge carrying large knapsacks. They pulled pieces of wood and lengths of rope out of the pouches, knelt on the stone, and began assembling something. The crowd didn’t move, hardly seemed to breathe, just watched silently. Kirra couldn’t help but grin as she realized that if this were the first-ever story time for the Tree Folk, they were definitely getting a show worthy of the occasion.
When the boys stood up, they were holding three human-size puppets with fearsome visages carved into the wood. There were joints built in, the separate pieces of wood tethered by rope, which allowed the puppets free range of motion.
Kirra gave Teeha a questioning look, nodded to the puppets, and then gestured to the crowd. “Would you like to explain how they work to everyone?” she whispered.
Teeha was mortified. Eyes wide and making an expression that looked like she’d smelled something bad, she shook her head fiercely and immediately sat down.
“I think that might be a no,” Luwan whispered to Kirra.
“Okay, I’ll take it from here.” She smiled at both of them, then turned to address the crowd again.
“These Takers are bigger than us. Stronger,” Kirra said in a loud voice. “They have cruel weapons and protective clothing.
“But”—she held up a finger—“we have some advantages on our side. The first and most important is that, if we have to fight, we’ll be fighting in these woods. Every single one of you knows this terrain by heart, and how to travel swiftly and quietly through the trees.”
Kirra spread her arms to indicate everyone gathered in the clearing. “That’s why it’s so good to see all of you here today. Individually, your familiarity with the forest is incredible. But together, combining all that knowledge as one cohesive unit? We will be able to do anything.”
She walked over to where Teeha’s brothers were still holding the puppets. “And that brings me to the last part of our strength. The plan we want to share with you today.
“Good ideas can come from anywhere. One of the smallest among us came up with the idea that’s going to defeat the Takers.” Kirra motioned to Makina, who crossed the ridge to stand beside her. Kirra put her arm around her friend and said, “It was Makina here who, after seeing the Takers, said, ‘I wish we could be giants, just like them.’”
Titters of laughter were heard around the circle.
“Yes, it’s an idea that some would laugh at,” Kirra acknowledged. “But luckily it fell on creative ears. And now it’s the idea that will save us.”
Makina grinned widely and waved at the crowd. Her pack of tiny sisters clapped enthusiastically and waved right back, to the delight of the audience.
“Our friend Teeha is an amazing builder,” Kirra continued. “Give her some raw materials and a little bit of inspiration, and she can create anything. So, after she heard Makina’s idea, she decided to make a giant of her own.”
Kirra went back into Storyteller mode then. Using the puppets on the ridge as models, she described in vivid detail the twenty-foot forest giant that Teeha had constructed, and how her friends had worked the levers and pulleys to make it shout and stomp and throw great rocks.
She explained how, if everyone here worked together under Teeha’s direction, they could form an army of their own. If some people were willing to help make the figures, there could be many more giants. Then others could learn how to operate them. Again using the puppets, she showed where the Tree Folk would be situated within each giant to make it move. The first time, the kids had had only one week to prepare. Now they had several months of rainy season to use before the river receded and the Takers came back.
“When I was still with my first community, back in the volcano, my mother and father had different ideas about how to deal with these Takers. My mother wanted to fight to defend our home. But my father wanted to protect the community peacefully, with his stories.”
Kirra paused for a few moments. After years of trying to forget Maja and Paja, who’d been everything to her, it felt so good—so right—to honor their memory now by speaking publicly about them.
“But we will use both approaches when we defend ourselves. We will fight, but with a kind of story—a visual one. A symbol of our strength.
“And speaking of stories, if we’re successful, the Takers will spread ours for us. They will tell all their people, far and wide, about the great and terrible forest giants that fought to protect this land. Most communities have to keep fighting, generation after generation, but these tales will fight our future battles for us. We will only need to do this once, and the stories will protect our people for generations to come.”
Kirra ended with a final description of how the first giant battle had ended, the Takers falling all over themselves as they scurried back to the other side of the river and away from the giant as fast as they possibly could.
When she finished, the crowd erupted into cheers. Luwan and his friends waved to the audience from their spot atop the rocky ridge, basking in the adoration.
Mome stood by Kirra again after the applause died down. “We thank you for listening to all of us this morning,” he said. “It is, however, very important to face the truth if you decide to join us in defending our woods. It will be difficult. There will be losses. So please listen now. Anyone who wants to leave the forest and move elsewhere, you are free to do so. We will not stop you nor say an ill word about you. Furthermore, anyone who wants to stay but would prefer not to get involved, we understand. No one will be forced into this.
“But we do believe this is our only chance, the one way to save everything we hold dear.”
Loba also stood up again to speak. “So we are officially asking now for your help. If a handful of children can fight off a half-dozen warriors, just imagine what an entire united community could do against them.”
He raised a hand in the air and kept it there as he slowly turned in a circle to address the entire crowd. “Members of the Tree Folk, you who are branch-born…who will stand with us?”
The old man with the gray beard was the first to raise his hand. Others followed right away. After a few moments, Kirra scanned the entire crowd but could not find a single person without their hand up.
Even though the Takers didn’t know it yet, the next battle had already begun.
THE NEXT FEW MONTHS were a whirlwind of activity. Where once the forest had seemed eerily deserted, now it was teeming with people. Everyone was out of their homes, even in the pouring rain, no longer feeling uncomfortable about being in the open.
It was a prolonged period of trial followed by a whole lot of error. For every step the community took forward, it seemed like they took two lurching, shambling steps backward. Literally. Because making the giants mobile turned out to be a lot more difficult than it seemed. Teeha could rig up the logs to make them stomp in place, as their first giant had done when it scared that small group of hunters. But making those stomps cross some distance was a different story altogether.
On one soggy afternoon, Kirra sat on a great stump with Teeha, Luwan, and Makina, watching two different groups of builders test out their designs.
Makina pointed. “They look so weird without the rest of the bodies.”
Kirra nodded. The girl had a point. The twelve-foot-high wooden legs ended suddenly at the waist in midair. It was a little creepy.
“Group One, take your places.” Teeha’s voice, timid in conversation, was strong and clear when she was giving directions.
Six Tree Folk, four men and two women, scaled the logs that made up the legs, hands grabbing levers and feet positioned on pedals.
“Ready?” Teeha called.
The woman at the top of the contraption was quick to give a thumbs-up.
“Go!”
The legs took three tiny stuttering steps followed by one long lunge; then they twisted in a patch of mud and promptly toppled over. The Tree Folk all jumped out, keeping clear of the falling logs but landing squarely in the muck.
“Everyone okay?” Kirra yelled. The Tree Folk picked themselves off the ground, filthy and sheepish but unhurt.
“That looked like my little sister trying to walk,” Makina whispered. “She’s one and a half years old.”
Luwan giggled, and Kirra slapped at him to keep him quiet.
“Ready, Group Two?”
Another thumbs-up, but this one perhaps a bit less enthusiastic.
“Go!”
One leg stayed firmly planted in place while the other stepped frantically, winding in a furious circle. Eventually both tilted and crashed to the ground, where the one mobile leg kept kicking in the air.
“That looks like my dad…after he’s had too many cups of strong mead,” Luwan said.
Now it was Makina’s turn to giggle. Kirra slapped at them both, but they quickly stopped when they saw Teeha’s reaction.
The girl moaned, cradling her head in both hands while she stared down at the fallen legs. “I’ve tried everything,” she muttered, shaking her head back and forth in frustration. “I don’t know how to fix it.”
She was clearly talking to herself, but Kirra put a soothing hand on her shoulder and responded. “You’ll get it. We still have more time.” Kirra said this as much to calm her own nerves as to comfort her friend. Each rainy day was a blessing for them, but she knew the wet season would not last forever.
“Excuse me?” Teeha and Kirra looked up to see a young man approaching the stump. “I…well, you know more about this than me, of course…but I might be able to help? I mean maybe with just this one thing?”
Teeha lifted her head out of her hands and studied him. “How so?”
He turned and waved for them to follow. “It will be easier if I show you.”
His name was Subon, and his home tree was quite a distance away. When they got close, he stepped off a trail and pushed aside a group of hanging creepers that had been concealing the ladder to his front door.
“This feels so different.” Subon held the vines aside and motioned for them to climb the ladder. “We usually do everything we can to hide our place. I’m not used to showing people right where it is.”
“Maybe things are changing.” Kirra gave him a smile. “Could be a whole new day for the Tree Folk.”
Subon smiled back, and Kirra felt shy all of a sudden. “Well, maybe I don’t mind those changes,” he said.
Teeha rolled her eyes. “Hurry up and show us why you brought us here.” As usual, she was all business.
They climbed up to the porch that wrapped around his house. “So I have a little sister, okay? And she’s always waking me up in the middle of the night to get her some water. And if our gourd is empty, I have to climb
all the way down to the pond and fill up a cup for her. By the time I get back, I’m so wide-awake I can’t get back to sleep.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet of you!” Kirra said.
Teeha grunted. “Get on with the story.”
Subon reached through an open window and brought out an upside-down wooden cup with rope tied around it. “So I rigged this up.” He pulled on the rope in a hand-over-hand gesture. The rope was connected to round wooden pulleys that were fastened to the tree trunk at different points. As Subon tugged on the rope, Teeha and Kirra watched the cup travel down to the ground, dip into the spring, and flip right-side up. Then he hauled it right back up to where they were standing.
Subon grabbed the cup and took a long drink. “See? It’s easy! She can do it by herself, and I get to stay asleep.”
Teeha studied the system of pulleys carefully, not saying anything.
“Wow,” Kirra said, smiling at Subon again. “Thanks so much for showing us this. It’s a really clever way to—”
“Let’s go.” Teeha grabbed Kirra by the elbow and pulled her roughly to the ladder.
Subon stuck his face over the edge of the platform as they descended. “Maybe you could come back sometime?” The look on his face was so hopeful.
“Oh, sure,” Teeha said. “Right after the looming life-or-death battle.”
Kirra shrugged and gave him a wave.
Two days later, Teeha had rigged up a system that connected ankle, knee, and waist with round pulleys and the giant puppets were walking smoothly.
And then she was on to the next challenge. Much to her chagrin, Teeha had become the most popular person in the community. People sought her out at all times of the day, asking for guidance about engineering and construction, but also bringing ideas and gadgets from their own homes, as Subon had done. It turned out the Tree Folk had a lot of good ideas when they were able to pool them together like this. Kirra was proud of the way her friend handled the attention. Teeha was very professional—not exactly warm—but she always studied each new design carefully and patiently answered each question and took the time to demonstrate this or that bit of mechanics with the smaller-scale puppets her brothers had made. In fact, she taught some people so well that they were able to go back and lead the building process in their section of the woods.
If We Were Giants Page 16