Jack

by Liesl Shurtliff

  I’m sorry, Mama. Annabella was eaten by a cat. But don’t feel too bad. You always thought she was so tenderhearted, I’m sure she made a nice meal. Aren’t you proud?

  “Fine, you can stay.”

  Annabella beamed.

  “But if you get eaten by a giant snake, it isn’t my fault!”

  “Giant snakes?” Her smile faltered.

  “Why of course.” I grinned. “You didn’t think it was just the humans that were giant, did you?”

  “Well, I…I…no. Of course not. I knew there would be giant snakes here.”

  “Oh yesss,” I hissed. “Giant snakes and bats and cats and rats. I even heard of a boy who was eaten by a cow.”

  “A cow?”

  “Yep, swallowed whole.” I left out the part where he survived and escaped.

  Annabella’s chin quivered a little. But she didn’t cry. She lifted her chin and forced a shrug. “I’ve always been very good around animals.”

  “Well, we’ll see how you fare at the size of a mouse. Come on. We need to get to the castle before dark, when the owls and bats come out to hunt little girls….”

  I left Annabella and started walking up the hill. I paused and turned around, expecting to see her hightailing it down the beanstalk, but to my surprise she walked right past me, trudging up the hill with her braids bouncing. I trotted after her and then pulled ahead, so she’d know who the leader was.

  “Do you know where Papa is?” Annabella asked after we’d walked a few minutes in silence.

  “He’s at the giant castle.”

  “How do you know? Is he being held captive like Grandpa Jack?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Is the giant going to eat him?”

  “No. The giants don’t really eat us.” I paused. “I don’t think they do anyway. Not the ones I’ve met.”

  “You’ve met giants? And they didn’t eat you?”

  “They don’t take us for eating. They take our food and our animals, since there’s a famine going on here.”

  “Oh. That makes sense, I suppose.” Annabella looked all around at the brown and shriveled plants. “Then why did they take Papa?”

  “They take people to do their work for them. They call us elves.”

  “Elves…how strange. But I guess the giants don’t think of themselves as giants, do they?”

  It unnerved me how quickly she was catching on to everything, as though she found it all quite logical. “No. They think of themselves as people, just like we do.”

  “But not very nice people, if they took away Papa.”

  “Yeah, some of them.”

  “We’ll beat the giants, Jack,” said Annabella. “We’ll get Papa back and beat the giants just like Grandpa Jack.”

  I kept walking. Annabella didn’t really know what it was like to face a giant. Even if they were kind giants, like Martha, they could still pick you up between their fingers and do whatever they pleased with you.

  We trudged on through dust and dead grass. The castle looked so far away, it would take forever to get there on foot, but I had very little confidence that Annabella would be able to ride a cart or skirt or shoe. She’d fly off in an instant, so we stayed off the road and walked. Hours later we weren’t even halfway up the hill.

  Gribit!

  “What was that?” Annabella grasped my arm.

  Something large and green hopped into our path. It had bulging eyes and a mouth that stretched clear across its face.

  It was a giant toad.

  Brrrgibit!

  The toad hopped toward us, and Annabella squeaked with fright and stumbled back.

  “What’s the matter?” I said. “I thought you liked animals.”

  Annabella swallowed. “I do…. It’s just—”

  Rigibit! croaked the toad.

  “Hello,” said Annabella.

  The toad flicked out its enormous tongue and hopped a little closer. Its bulging eyes were fixed on Annabella. She glanced uneasily at me.

  “Go on,” I goaded. “Make friends with it.”

  “My name is Annabella,” she said, desperately trying to keep her voice steady. “What’s yours?”

  Gribit!

  “Oh!” Annabella smiled. “She says her name is Gusta.”

  Gusta? So it was a girl toad, apparently. I rolled my eyes. “Great, now give Gusta a kiss and say good-bye.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—”

  Brrgibit! The toad flicked out her tongue, wrapped it around Annabella’s waist, and plucked her off the ground like a flower out of a garden.

  “Jack!” cried Annabella. The toad started to hop away.

  “Hey!” I shouted. I loaded my sling and flung a stone as hard as I could but missed as the toad leaped away, in the opposite direction from the castle, with Annabella wrapped up in her tongue.

  I guess that’s what happens when you kiss a toad.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Swampy Stream

  Snakes and toads. Snakes and TOADS! My sister had just been taken by a giant toad! This is the kind of thing that I would have dreamed about back in my own world, and the very thought of it would have made me laugh. But dreams are not quite the same when they become reality. I’d never imagined how long a giant toad’s tongue could be. It was as long as Annabella herself, and those bulging eyes…so goggling and hungry.

  I ran after the toad, leaping over pebbles and dodging blades of grass. I had always been good at catching toads, but a giant toad is something else altogether. It was like trying to catch a trotting deer or a wild boar. No matter how hard I ran, the toad got farther and farther away, and Annabella’s screams grew fainter, until the toad hopped over a rise of land and disappeared from sight.

  I ran harder, ignoring the stitch in my side and the scream in my legs. The brown grass whipped and tripped me by the ankles, like it was trying to hinder me on purpose.

  I crested the hill and the earth fell away. At the bottom of a steep slope was a swampy river snaking through a wooded area—probably nothing more than a trickling stream or puddle to the giants, but a huge swamp to me. I had to find Annabella before it was too late. Was it already too late? An image flashed through my mind of the toad with just a skinny little leg hanging out the side of her mouth.

  I pushed the thought aside and ran down the hill. I tripped on stones and branches and dead leaves. I rolled and bumbled down the slope until at last I reached the bottom, where the land leveled out and the swamp began.

  The water was covered with a greenish-brown film. Brown grass and reeds stuck up along the bank. A fallen tree stretched across the water, its roots corroded and rotten. Giant snails clung to the slimy tree roots, and wood lice crawled all over the place. A giant worm as big as a snake slurped down into the mud.

  The air smelled moldy and putrid, like rotting fish guts. Every time I took a step, my foot made a suctiony pop! And the air was filled with the sinister sounds of a hundred hungry insects.

  Brrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

  Pckpckpckpckpckpckpckpck

  VzzzzZZZzzzzVzzz

  Giant mosquitoes swooped low over the water. Their noses were like great black swords, thirsty for blood. The mosquitoes were too big to sneak up on me like they did back home, but not so big that I couldn’t fight them off.

  Great. The one thing I could fight in this world was a mosquito.

  I made my way along the water’s edge, and within a minute I was soaked up to my shins. The swamp was so loud I couldn’t pick apart the separate noises. Could that sound be Annabella? Or that one?

  Pckpckpckpckpckpckpckpck

  Kk-kk-Kk-kk-Kk-kk-Kk-kk

  stststststststststsssssssssssssss

  “Bells!” I shouted. “Annabella! Annabellaaaaaa!”

  I tripped over a log and fell facefirst in the mud. Then the log started to slither.

  Hsssssssssssssssss

  Snakes and toads. Toads and SNAKES! A giant snake reared its head. It was brown with black markings, the perfect disguise for
a predator in a rotting swamp. It flicked out its forked tongue and tickled beneath my chin. I was frozen. It unhinged its jaws wide enough to fit over my head and shoulders.

  Move, Jack!

  The serpent’s jaws snapped shut, and I dove out of the way at the last second, hiding behind a rock. The snake slithered slowly around, through the dried reeds and grass.

  Think, Jack! Your axe!

  I pulled my axe out from my waist. The snake lunged again, but I swiped the blade in the air, so it reared back. I continued to wave my axe around, backing away from the snake, but then I stepped in a sinkhole and lost my balance. The axe slipped out of my hands and wedged itself in the swampy ground. I tried to reach for it, but I was stuck in the mud, and the snake was slithering toward me again.

  The snake hissed and circled me. I looked all around for something, anything I could use for a weapon. There was a pebble just a few feet from where I was stuck. If I could just reach it…I snatched up the rock, and at the same time the snake coiled up and cinched my legs and waist. It raised its head above me and flicked out its tongue. It looked like it was smiling, triumphant.

  Whoosh! I flung the rock at the snake’s head. My aim was not sure, but the rock smacked the tender underside of its neck with enough force to make it hiss and release me. I reached down and grabbed for another stone and loaded my sling. This time I hit it square on the jaw. The snake’s head flipped back. It flopped to the ground and slithered away, disappearing in the grass.

  I retrieved my axe from the mud and held it at the ready, just in case, but the snake did not return.

  I kept walking. The late afternoon sun beat down on the swamp and created a sweltering fog. I wiped the sweat from my face, but moments later I was just as wet and sticky as if I’d gone swimming. It was like my body was telling me to give up now. Should I give up? I could at least rest. I sat down in the mud and rested my head against a reed. A fly buzzed toward me.

  VzzzzZZZzzzzVzzz

  I swatted and the fly zoomed into a spiderweb in the bush above me. Immediately the giant spider went to work stringing up the fly and wrapping it like a mummy. No famine for spiders.

  Pckpckpckpckpckpckpckpck

  Uhrrrr-urh-urhurh-urh-urh-urhurh

  Gribitrigibit

  I sat up straight.

  Rigibigit…Gribit

  That had to be a toad, but was it the toad? This swamp was probably full of them.

  Gribigibit

  I walked toward the sound. Soon I heard a soft whimpering.

  I pulled apart some reeds, and not twenty feet away, there was Annabella sitting like a lonely flower in the center of a lily pad. Her knees were tucked up to her chest, and she was trembling with fright. The toad watched her closely with goggly eyes, but seemed uninterested in eating her.

  I let out a rush of air. I really didn’t want to break the news to Mama that Annabella had been eaten by a toad, no matter how funny the prospect had once seemed.

  “Bells!” I whispered as loud as I could, hoping to get Annabella’s attention but not the toad’s. “Bells!”

  Annabella looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy, but when she saw me, her whole face lit up with relief.

  “Jack! Oh, Jack, you found me!” She jumped up, forgetting that she was on a lily pad and not solid ground. The pad swayed and moved beneath her. She teetered, flailing her arms, until she toppled off and—kerplink!—fell into the water.

  “Bells!” I shouted this time.

  Brrrrigigit!

  The toad hopped in after her and a moment later popped back up with Annabella wrapped in her tongue. The toad deposited her on the lily pad in a soppy, coughing puddle. Annabella brushed the soggy leaves and weeds off her face, but they stuck to her hair and clothes, and she shivered as a strong breeze swept through.

  Rigibit? The toad flicked out her tongue and licked Annabella on the cheek. Annabella flinched, and for a moment I thought she would burst into tears, but instead she gave a shaky laugh. “That tickles.” The toad did it again and Bells giggled some more.

  Rigibit

  “I thought she wanted to eat me,” said Annabella, “but it seems like she’d rather keep me as a pet.”

  “Bells,” I said, “see if you can get away. Can you paddle your arms in the water and make the lily pad move?”

  Annabella scrunched her nose at the mucky water, even though she was already drenched in it, but she dug her arms in and tried her best to paddle toward the bank. Slowly, the pad started to move.

  Brrigit…Rrrgibit!

  Before she’d gotten halfway to shore, the toad lashed out her tongue and pulled her back to the center of the lily pad. Annabella screamed and wriggled free. She faced the toad with hands on hips. “Stop grabbing me with your tongue!” she scolded. “It’s horribly rude, you know!”

  Gribit! The toad shrank back with shame.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Annabella in a more soothing tone. “You’re just lonely, aren’t you? Haven’t you any other toads for friends?”

  Rigibit, the toad croaked mournfully.

  “You poor, sad creature, all alone. No one should be alone.” Annabella talked with the toad like she would anyone, listening carefully to each croak.

  She turned to me. “Jack, I have a feeling it’s going to be difficult to escape. She thinks I’m her new friend. She wants me to live here.”

  “Well, she can’t watch you forever, can she? We’ll just have to wait.”

  But the toad stared at Annabella with such intense, bulging eyes, it was difficult to believe she’d ever let her guard down.

  Grrrrribit! Birgibigit!

  “Yes, you have a lovely home,” said Annabella. “But I can’t live here. I would starve here in a day, you know. Oh, look! How beautiful!”

  A giant butterfly with bright-blue wings fluttered low over Annabella’s head. I’d never taken much of an interest in butterflies. In our world they weren’t ugly or scary enough to use as pranks, but that wasn’t so here. This giant butterfly was probably the ugliest creature I’d ever seen. The wings were fine, but the body was like a giant furry grasshopper, and it had huge, bulging eyes and wriggling antennae. Annabella didn’t seem to mind, though. She spoke to the butterfly like it was her long-lost friend.

  “Hello, Mr. Butterfly!” Annabella reached out her hand as if she were petting a puppy, but just then the toad hopped up and caught the butterfly with one neat flick of her tongue. The toad held out her catch to Annabella, like a bird might offer worms to its babies.

  Annabella’s face twisted in horror. “I didn’t mean I wanted to eat the butterfly! How awful!”

  The toad sat there for a moment, then stuffed the butterfly into her own mouth, pushing it down with her huge tongue. With a good crunch, she swallowed it in two gulps, except for one antenna that stuck to her lip, still wriggling.

  Rigibit

  “Blech!” Annabella was looking green.

  The toad turned her attention to a dragonfly hovering nearby, but before she could get it, a whale-sized fish burst from the water and swallowed the dragonfly whole. The fish splashed down on its side, and huge waves rocked the lily pad. Annabella had to lie flat and hold on to the sides as the water came crashing down.

  Gribit! Rigibit! The toad croaked angrily at the fish. She hopped to another lily pad and then another, as if to chase down the fish and make it share the dragonfly.

  Annabella teetered on the very edge of the lily pad. She was preparing to jump, but I knew for a fact she was not a strong swimmer.

  “You can do it, Bells. Just jump as far as you can, and I’ll help you.” I waded toward her.

  Gribit! Rrrigibit! The toad was still distracted, but it wouldn’t be for long.

  “Bells, jump! Now!”

  She plunged into the water and came up gasping for air. Her eyes were closed and she splashed her arms about. I waded farther and was able to reach a piece of her skirt. I pulled her after me. “Stand up, Bells!”

  Annabella stopped thrashing. She
put her feet down and stood.

  Gribit! Brigigibit! The toad had given up her chase and was swimming toward us now. We sloshed through the mucky water to the bank. I wanted to take off running, but Annabella stopped me.

  “We’re not big enough to outrun her. We have to hide!” She piled dead grass and leaves on top of herself until she was totally covered.

  Rigibit! The toad was getting closer.

  “Jack, hide!” Annabella commanded.

  I burrowed into the leaves beside her, just in time to see the toad break through the reeds. We waited, holding our breath, as the toad hopped all around. She croaked mournfully, calling out to Annabella. Finally her croaks faded in the distance.

  “Wait just a while longer,” Annabella whispered.

  When we were sure the coast was clear, we sat up and looked at each other. “Grandpa Jack didn’t prepare us for that one, did he?” asked Annabella.

  “I don’t think he prepared us for a lot of things,” I replied. “Come on. We’d better get as far as we can before your toad friend comes back.”

  As we walked away from the stream, the land got more solid and started to slope upward. The castle looked miles and miles away—at least a full day’s walk. It was evening now, and the sky was cloudy and gray. Soon it would be full dark, and the bats and owls and other night creatures would be searching for their supper.

  I kept my sling and axe at the ready. Annabella picked up a few stones for herself, but with the night coming on, we wouldn’t be able to spot a predator so easily.

  A wind swept through, and Annabella shivered uncontrollably in her wet clothes. I took off my jacket, which was only partially dry but still better than nothing, and draped it around her shoulders. She clutched it to her. “Th-thank you,” she stammered through blue lips.

  We walked on, slipping and tripping as we made our way up the hill. I no longer knew which way the road was. I just kept going toward the castle, using the glowing tower windows like guiding stars.

  Suddenly Annabella screamed. I whipped around expecting some frightful beast, but there was none. Annabella just stood in shock, dripping wet again, as though someone had emptied a bucket of water on her head. Another bucketful splashed at my feet and then to my side and all around. It was giant rain. Each raindrop was like a jug of water. Within thirty seconds the ground beneath us was a muddy river, and we began to slide back down the hill.