If We Were Giants

by Dave Matthews

  One morning, during a rare stretch of time when Teeha wasn’t being bothered with requests, she approached Kirra at the edge of the forest, where Luwan had set up their base of operations. She had brought one of the smaller puppets along.

  “Can I show you something?” Teeha asked.

  “Of course.” Kirra pushed herself off the ground and dusted herself off. “What is it?”

  “Do you remember when Mozan said that ‘the trees are the real giants’? Back when we were showing the first one to you?”

  Kirra nodded.

  “Well, that got me to thinking about something.” She propped the puppet against a nearby trunk. “When we built the first giant, I designed it to be operated by just five people. Because it was only going to be our little group that was using it.

  “But now? There are so many volunteers, we can have more people in each one. I bet we could put a dozen people into each giant puppet and still be able to make our army.”

  Kirra tilted her head and studied the puppet. “So does that mean you want to make them bigger?”

  “Yes, we could do that.” Teeha nodded. “But it also means we can make them do more. And the design could be different. Better. Here, I’ll show you.”

  She started to disassemble the puppet. “With the first giant, there were only a few moving parts. Because five of us had to move everything, right?” She lifted up various pieces she had just unattached. “But if we have more people operating each one, then we can have smaller moving parts, with each person responsible for their own segment.”

  Kirra wished that her mind worked more like Teeha’s, but it just didn’t. “I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t know how that helps us.”

  “Here, let me try to demonstrate,” Teeha said. Kirra was grateful for her patience.

  Teeha moved over to a sapling. “Okay, pretend this is a big tree.” She took all the little pieces of the puppet and placed them in and around the tree. Some she rested on top of branches, running parallel so they ended up just looking like a thicker limb. Others she wedged in the crook of two branches, hidden behind a screen of leaves. And others she laid on the ground out at the base of the trunk, as if they were dead branches or fallen logs.

  She stepped back to look over what she had just done and raised her eyebrows in a question at Kirra. “Does that look like a giant to you?”

  Kirra shook her head. “Of course not. It just looks like a tree.”

  “Exactly. But if there is someone in charge of each piece, hiding in the branches, and they had all practiced to coordinate their movements with the whole group”—Teeha grabbed the individual pieces and quickly reassembled them into a puppet—“all of a sudden there is a giant there.”

  Kirra finally got it. “And that way we could hide our numbers!”

  “Exactly.” Teeha gave her a rare smile. “The Takers would enter what they think is an empty forest, and suddenly they’d be surrounded by giants.”

  “You are amazing.” Kirra slowly shook her head in wonder. “Simply amazing. I’m so glad you’re on our side.”

  Teeha ducked her head and picked up the puppet. Even with all the positive attention, she still hadn’t gotten used to taking compliments. “I should get back to Luwan and the others. I want to test this out.” She scurried away and disappeared into the forest.

  Kirra stretched and sat down on the grass of the meadow. She deserved a five-minute break. She had worked harder these last several weeks than she ever had in her life.

  As she was sitting there, a woman and several children walked by. They were carrying pots of food that smelled delicious and baskets full of bread. The little group stopped in front of Kirra.

  “Would you like something to eat?”

  Kirra leaned forward and peered into the pot. Freshly grilled crocodile steaks.

  “Mmm. Yes, I would love some.”

  The woman smiled and fished out three strips of meat, while one of her daughters broke off a hunk of bread. It was still warm from the oven.

  “Oh, by the gods, this is the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time.” This was no false praise. Not only was the meat skillfully prepared, but Kirra’s entire family had been so busy each day that they hardly had time to wolf down leftovers at night before they fell into their hammocks.

  “Thank you very much. It’s my pleasure to be able to serve you.”

  Kirra wrinkled her brow. “Did someone ask you to do this? The person in charge of your construction group, perhaps?”

  The woman motioned to her children to walk on without her for a moment. When they left, she turned back to Kirra and shook her head.

  “No, nothing like that. I just…I’m afraid I’m no good at building, and besides, I need to look after my little ones during the day. But I still wanted to help, you know? I wanted to do my part.”

  “That’s wonderful. Thank you so much.”

  “When I saw you speak in the clearing that day, I knew we would be staying to protect the forest. Like I said, I have no business building or fighting, but I know I can cook.”

  “You certainly can!”

  “Anyway, I should be going. There are so many people to feed.”

  “Thanks again.”

  Kirra watched as the woman went from group to group throughout the clearing, the people at each workstation delighted to take a break from their arduous labor and get an unexpected treat in the bargain.

  Over the next several weeks, Kirra regularly saw this woman bringing food to people throughout the clearing, and her example inspired others. Wherever Kirra roamed through the forest, checking on construction sites and trying to encourage the workers, she saw more and more people serving food to their fellow Tree Folk. And she heard the appreciative comments ring out:

  “How did you get the meat so juicy?”

  “What type of seasoning did you use?”

  “Do you think I could stop by your hut sometime and you could show me how you’ve set up your cook fire? My meals never turn out like this.”

  One day as she sat in the clearing, enjoying a kebab of freshly grilled boar and mushrooms that had been given to her by a man wandering around with a cart full of them, Kirra realized that this was much bigger than food. These people were meeting others whom they never would have approached before. They were sharing, connecting.

  She almost felt like she was back in Zedu again.

  After nearly four months of nonstop toil, Kirra noticed that the rainstorms had started to abate. The river was still raging, but the dry season was at hand.

  She was lying out on the platform surrounding the hut, her muscles tired and sore, when Luwan climbed onto the wooden boards and collapsed beside her.

  They were quiet for a few moments before he said, “It feels different, doesn’t it?”

  She tilted her head and studied him. “What does?”

  Luwan reached up and motioned to the surrounding forest. “Things are drying out. Rainy season will be over soon.”

  She nodded. “Yes…”

  “Well, that’s usually such a happy time, right? Hopeful. Everybody’s dreaming about warm weather, and not having to wring out soggy clothes when you get home every night, and not having to slog through the mud to get anywhere. It’s always the best part of the year.”

  Kirra nodded and sighed. “But not this time. This time it’s all mixed up with—”

  “Dread.” Luwan rubbed his stomach. “It’s like a cold ball sitting right here. Won’t ever really go away.”

  Kirra thought about that. She had been living with her own dread for so long—trying to keep all those memories pushed away—that she supposed she hadn’t noticed it as much as the others. Now that she had finally let go and told the truth, to herself and everyone else, she was feeling much better. Relieved. Even with the upcoming battle looming before her.

  After that, Luwan was quiet for so long that she thought he had fallen asleep. Kirra couldn’t blame him. He’d been working harder than anybody on their puppet,
and at the end of each day he would go off by himself and come home late. She was usually asleep when he got back to the hut, or simply too tired to remember to ask him where he had been. Probably helping other construction groups, teaching them how to work together to maneuver the giants.

  Finally he turned to her and whispered, “You know what I keep thinking?”

  “What?”

  “It’s a good thing I pulled you out of the river that day a long time ago.”

  Kirra got up on her elbows. The memory of that time was still painful, and it didn’t help that Luwan still thought about it, too. Would she ever be more than a pathetic orphan in his eyes?

  “I’m very grateful to you, Luwan. You know that.”

  He waved her words away. “If I hadn’t, none of this would be happening. We wouldn’t all be working together. We wouldn’t stand a chance against these intruders.”

  Kirra searched his face for any hint of sarcasm or teasing, but he looked deadly serious. “I don’t know about that,” she said. “The Tree Folk still have you and your friends. Like Teeha, she is amazing. The other day, she—”

  “I’m not talking about Teeha,” he said. “I’m talking about you. You’re amazing, too, Kirra. You have so much strength.…#x201D;

  Her face flushed, and she almost laughed. He’d seen her at her absolute weakest moments. “Thanks, Luwan. I do think it’s been good for me to remember and talk about…before.”

  “You’re an incredibly brave person,” he said. “That day you ran into the Takers’ camp to rescue me, and that time you spoke in front of everyone…I couldn’t have done those things.”

  Kirra was taken aback. He was the bravest person she knew. Foolhardy sometimes, yes, but still…She recovered quickly. “That’s not true! You’ve never been one to shy away from danger.”

  He smiled at that.

  “And it takes a lot of courage to be a good Hook Hunter,” she went on. “Like you’re going to be.” She poked him in the ribs, and he squirmed out of reach, laughing.

  They lay still for a few minutes after that, until Luwan said, “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you think we’re ready? I mean, really ready?”

  Kirra took some time to ponder her answer, the way Mome always did for her. It was an important question and deserved a thoughtful response.

  “Honestly? I don’t think we’ll know until it happens. How can you really prepare for something like this? We don’t know how many of them will show up, and we don’t know how the Tree Folk will respond in the moment.” Kirra shuddered as she recalled her terrifying experiences in the two Taker camps. Luwan had called her brave, but she definitely hadn’t felt that way either time. It was so easy to give in to panic and so difficult to keep your mind and body focused while everything was crashing down around you. “Practice is one thing, but being in the middle of a dangerous situation is another.”

  “That’s not very comforting,” Luwan said. “But it’s fair.”

  She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it. “Whatever happens, I’m glad I’m doing this with you, your family, and your friends. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

  “You got it, sis. We’re in this together.” He squeezed her hand back. “And whatever happens? I don’t think we’re going to have to wait much longer to find out.”

  A FEW DAYS LATER, Kirra was dozing in her hammock, when the blast of a great horn tore apart the silence of the jungle.

  Her eyes flew open. The gravity of the situation hit

  her in an instant. This was really going to happen. Not another rehearsal with the giant puppets, and no more facing her enemy in a half-forgotten dream. She was going to actually see Takers again. Today.

  It became very difficult to breathe.

  Luwan’s head popped down through the trapdoor.

  “They’re coming,” he said.

  She nodded, staring back at him, unblinking. Luwan tilted his head and studied her expression. “Are you going to be okay?”

  Kirra forced herself to nod. “I can do this.” It came out in a choked whisper.

  “No.” Luwan reached down for her. “We can do this.”

  She grabbed on to his hand, warm and strong just like all those years ago. The dread and panic abated a bit, replaced by something close to relief. Because she had been waiting for this moment ever since she had spoken in the clearing, and every day had been long hours spent in preparation.

  No, that wasn’t true, she realized.…She had actually been waiting for this day—whether she knew it or not—ever since she had been a terrified and devastated ten-year-old girl watching Zedu burn.

  Today was the day she simply must do what had to be done.

  When Kirra entered the hut, Loba and Maham were putting on hunting cloaks, which would camouflage them during what was to come. Loba was grim-faced in his preparation, slowly and deliberately lacing his boots, cinching his belt, and securing a cutting stone at his waist. He paused to give Kirra a quick nod in greeting, then got back about his business.

  Maham was gathering her supplies, too. She and Loba would be part of a team operating one of the puppets that would be leading the ambush, so she needed to be in place right away. But when she saw Kirra, she ran over and gave her a fierce hug. Maham grabbed Luwan by the shoulder and pulled him in as well.

  She wiped a tear from her eye and said, “You two be careful.”

  “Mother,” Luwan said, “there’s no being careful in a battle.”

  “Oh, I know. Just let me be a mother for a minute.” Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She wiped at her face. “I know we’re doing the right thing, the only thing. Really. It’s just…I love you both so much.”

  It was the first time Maham had ever said those words to her. She wanted to savor them, but that would have to wait. “We love you, too,” Kirra said. She looked directly into the woman’s eyes and took her by the shoulders. “And this evening, after we have protected the forest, we’ll all meet back here and have dinner, okay? Together. As a family.”

  “That’s a fine plan.” Loba walked over to them. “I’ll roast a haunch of boar. We can all have that to look forward to, yes?”

  Kirra looked from face to face, trying desperately to keep the uncertainty she felt out of her eyes. The thought that all four of them might not make it back to this cozy hut was too much to bear, but dwelling on it would simply make it even more difficult to leave. So she waved good-bye, grabbed Luwan’s hand to pull him out the front door, and started to head in the direction of the river.

  The woods were as busy as a wasps’ nest as the pair made their way through the branches. People were bustling all around them, hauling sections of wood and lengths of rope, racing to the spot on the river where the Takers had first crossed over months ago, or setting up battle stations deeper in the forest. The Tree Folk were mostly silent as they went about their tasks, giving their fellow forest dwellers a quick nod of recognition as they passed.

  Near the river, Kirra and Luwan reached the tree that had been designated their group’s base of operations. Kharee and Mozan were already there, standing near the trunk, and Makina joined them shortly thereafter. Last was Teeha, marching in with her brothers, who would round out the contingent of fighters controlling their giant.

  She walked up to them. “Should we try to gather everyone in this area quickly? Go over the plan once more?”

  Luwan shook his head. “There’s no time. Also, everyone knows the plan forward and backward. We’ve been over it a million times.”

  “I agree,” Kirra said. “Just let everyone get ready in their own way.”

  Teeha nodded. “That works. Let’s take our stations and get a look at what’s headed this direction.”

  Makina was the first to scramble up the trunk and shoot into the branches. “Those stupid Takers are going to be sorry they ever woke up this morning!”

  Mozan looked at the others and nod
ded appreciatively. “As far as battle cries go, that one’s not bad.”

  “Enough talk.” Kharee picked up his little brother and thrust him up into the lower limbs of the tree. “Let’s go.”

  Kirra followed, climbing halfway up the trunk to find her section of the giant puppet. They had stored it there a few weeks earlier and had worked with it dozens of times since. She ran her hands across the wood. They had practiced with it so much that she found touching its grainy surface comforting.

  That feeling of comfort dissipated, however, when she brushed aside a screen of leaves and got her first look at the river.

  There were hundreds of Takers on the other side.

  She felt the same disbelief as when the entire Tree Folk community had assembled to listen to her months ago. How could there even be so many of them?

  Soldiers filled the riverbank, standing shoulder to shoulder in perfectly straight lines, those long gray faces staring stoically across the water. As others poured out of the scrub brush and joined the ranks, there was no hurrying or rushing about. Their movements were precise, measured, methodical. That was more unnerving than a screaming, frenzied charge would have been. A cold pit formed deep in her stomach when Kirra realized that the people of the forest weren’t the only ones who had spent months training for this moment.

  In fact, it looked like the Takers had spent years practicing for battle. For these soldiers spread out in front of them, it might have been their entire lives.

  And Kirra noticed that they had tailored their appearance for just such a battle as this one. The first time she had encountered the Takers, they had looked completely out of place in the environment, their leathery skin and war attire looking much more suited to a desert landscape. But not this time. They had dyed their leather and armor a dull green and brown to match the camouflage of the Tree Folk, even going so far as to adorn their clothing with leaves and bits of branches. Kirra swallowed heavily. They had obviously put a lot of thought and preparation into coming here and wiping out her people.