Oh dear.
They were used tissues. Jack was covered in green, gooey snot. Wrestling with the tissues, trying to escape, he only succeeded in covering himself further in the green gunk. When he finally did free himself from the bogey-fied tissues, he landed face first on a large, round, sticky toffee which was half chewed and covered in grey pocket fluff.
‘Where’d you go, silly?’ He heard the giantess’s voice before he was pulled out by his foot and deposited on a wooden counter.
For a moment, Jack thought he was back in the land of human beings because he saw a green front door and a swanky, person-sized house. But then he noticed the grass outside was plastic and ended abruptly, turning into wood. When he looked around him, he realised he was inside the castle. He could smell food and hear a gentle simmering. He guessed he was in the kitchen, but it was difficult to tell as two big blue eyes and a gappy smile appeared above the roof of the house. Jack gulped. It was a doll’s house – her doll’s house. She was a little girl in a BIG body.
‘Naughty dolly!’ the giant child tutted. ‘Look at what a messy you’re in.’
Jack looked down at his muddy hands and clothes.
‘Bath time!’
This is where Jack’s ordeal really began.
First, she dunked him head first in a jumbo jug of cold water. Then she took a giant toothbrush (turned out she did have one) and scrubbed him head to toe with it. As the bristles tickled and probed every part of him, Jack could taste a faint hint of mint beneath the soap she’d covered him in. Then came the most humiliating bit of all. The giantess took off his clothes and dressed him in a pink, flowery dress.
‘Pretty dolly,’ she said, with a satisfied smile.
Jack found himself sitting in a red-rose-wallpapered room with a white-quilted bed and a little dressing table covered in multicoloured bottles. He was looking in a mirror, except there was no glass, just a silver sticker.
The giantess grabbed his head and pulled at his hair. I expect you think Jack had short hair, as is the fashion amongst human boys these days. But Jack lived at a time when long hair was all the rage. He had tied his long blond locks back in a ponytail. The giantess yanked out the elastic band, paying no thought to the hair she was pulling from his head.
‘Ow!’ Jack exclaimed.
‘Shh! Dollies don’t speak,’ the giantess said. Then, with the gentleness of a grizzly bear, she began to comb. ‘Gotta get these nasty knotties out, dolly.’
What could Jack do? She was a giant. He was only a little human being. He had no choice but to let her play with him.
She tied bows in his hair.
She cuddled him.
She sat him down with other ‘dollies’ and forced him to drink cup after cup after cup of cold, stinking tea.
But that wasn’t the worst bit for Jack.
The worst bit was meeting the others.
There was Nick, who was wearing a pirate’s hat and had a stuffed parrot on his shoulder.
‘She nailed it on!’ he said, his voice quivering as he held out his hand and showed Jack the big metal nail keeping the teacup in his palm.
Sam was red-hot and sweltering inside a huge, grey, fluffy bear suit. ‘I can’t handle any more cuddles. She squeezes so tight!’ he whimpered.
And finally there was Old Tim. He’d been there the longest. His beard, which had grown long and grey, had bows tied onto it and he was very, very thin.
‘She never feeds us,’ he moaned. ‘She just gives us endless cups of cold tea. I don’t think I’m going to last much longer.’
Jack was almost too scared to ask. ‘How long have you been here?’
Old Tim looked Jack square in the eyes. ‘Six years,’ he said.
Six whole years!
‘Why don’t you run away?’ Jack asked.
Old Tim frowned. ‘Don’t you think I tried that?’ He rocked his seat out from under the table.
Jack gasped.
Old Tim wasn’t wearing any trousers. His skinny white legs had almost withered away.
‘The first day I was here, I made a run for it,’ he said. ‘Got out of the doll’s house, off the kitchen table and as far as the front door before she caught me. That’s when she stuck me to this chair with superglue.’
Jack looked up at the giant child, his captor. She looked so sweet but then she smiled maniacally down at him.
‘Please!’ he called up to her. ‘You have to let me go. My mother –’
The giant’s face turned to thunder. ‘Shh! Dollies don’t talk!’
‘But –’
She held her finger to her lips and her eyes blazed with mischief. ‘Unless you want me to sew your lips together …’
Jack most certainly did not want her to sew his lips together. So he said nothing more as she filled him full of tea.
Now, obviously, Jack didn’t stay up in that giant’s doll’s house forever. He made it home to tell his story. You see, Jack was smart. He let the giant child play with him. He allowed her to dress him up and he did everything she wanted without complaint and without trying to run away. So when her father, the giant, came home, Jack had not been superglued, nailed or tied to his chair like the others.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
The giant’s footsteps made the doll’s house shake.
‘No moving …’ the giantess whispered to Jack. ‘Not unless you want my daddy to eat you up!’
Jack did not want her daddy to eat him up. He didn’t move a muscle when the giant came into the kitchen and sniffed the air. He kept completely still when the giant stomped around looking under ornaments and behind the furniture. And he managed not to shake when the giant chanted his famous words.
‘Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!’
Luckily for Jack, the giant’s child was determined to keep her dolls a secret.
‘Daddy! You always say that and it’s always just dinner.’ She picked up a giant ladle from the table. ‘Sit down and eat up your tea,’ she said, pushing him into a giant-sized armchair by the fireplace and spooning him out a portion of stew from the pot sitting above the fire. And, like a good giant, he did exactly that.
Old Tim’s stomach gurgled. ‘It smells so good,’ he moaned.
Jack agreed. The stew smelled delicious. She might be young and silly, but that giantess knew how to cook.
Now, we know what happened next. The giant called for his money bags and counted his gold. You may have heard that Jack hid in the oven, or the fireplace, or a cupboard. Did you ever wonder why he always hid somewhere different? That’s because he didn’t hide at all. He sat in the doll’s house on the kitchen table and watched everything. What is true is that Jack waited for the giants to go to sleep and then made his escape. And he took one of the money bags with him.
When Jack reached the bottom of the beanstalk, his mum ran out of the house.
‘Jack! Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.’ Then she saw the bag of gold and her anger turned to interest. ‘What’s that?’
She was so taken with the money, she didn’t even comment on the fact he was wearing a pink flowery dress. Jack burned the dress and tried to forget about his encounter with the crazy giant child. He would have happily cut down the beanstalk and never spoken of it again had his mother not pestered him with questions.
‘Where did this money come from? Did you say there was another bag? Was there anything else we could have?’
Like many human beings, Jack’s mum was greedy. One bag of gold was not enough for her. She wanted Jack to go back up the beanstalk.
‘Mum! No! Please don’t make me … You don’t understand,’ Jack protested.
But his mum was adamant. ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘You’re selfish. You don’t want to make me happy.’
Jack sighed, pulled on his boots and headed up the beanstalk. If he was lucky, he would be able to hide from the crazy giant child this time.
Jack
was not lucky.
In fact, he was positively unlucky. At the exact moment he arrived in the Land of Giants, the giant’s child just happened to be skipping past the beanstalk. She must have had eyes like a hawk to spot him. She came careering to an abrupt stop.
‘Dolly! You’re back.’
She scooped him up and took him back to the giant’s house.
‘Naughty dolly,’ she said, dumping him in the doll’s house, next to a sympathetic Nick.
‘No more run, run,’ she said, waving her finger at him.
‘Uh-oh.’ Nick’s eyes widened as he watched the giantess. With a fiendish grin, she pulled a tube of superglue from a drawer.
‘It’s the super-duper sticking glue,’ Sam groaned. ‘That’s what she used on Old Tim’s legs.’
Old Tim moaned, too weak to talk.
‘Sticky, sticky,’ the giantess said, reaching in to grab Jack.
‘No! Please. Don’t …’ Jack tried to object but she turned him over and squirted super-duper sticking glue all over his trousers and shirt. With her free hand, she picked up a smelly, old armchair and squished Jack into it, holding him down so he couldn’t wriggle away whilst the glue dried.
‘There!’ she said, plonking him back in the tea room with the others. ‘Happy families.’
She frowned, looking at Jack in his old shirt and trousers. Then a slow smile spread across her enormous face. She disappeared and a moment later returned with a handful of sparkling glitter and pink stickers, which she proceeded to stick all over Jack.
‘Pretty dolly!’ she said, pressing a flower into Jack’s forehead.
When she was done, Jack looked like a pixie had vomited over him.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
The giant returned. Everyone in the doll’s house froze. Sniffing the air, the giant muttered his terrifying words.
‘Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.’
The giant’s daughter giggled. ‘Oh, Daddy, it’s just dinner!’
She ladled a big spoon of what smelt like chicken stew into a giant-sized bowl and gave it to her father, who sat down in his armchair by the fire. Then she spooned herself out a portion and sat at the table, next to the doll’s house.
Old Tim, Nick and Sam watched, tummies rumbling and mouths watering, as she gobbled up her stew. Jack didn’t waste any time – he squirmed and wriggled and tried to get free. But the super-duper sticking glue held him firm.
‘You’ll never get away,’ Nick said. ‘You’re stuck here forever, like us.’
Jack looked at Old Tim. His arms were stick-thin, his legs like poles. There was no way he was ending up like that. Jack pulled his arms inside his shirt and undid his top buttons.
Sam glanced at him. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Escaping,’ Jack replied and his head disappeared inside the shirt.
Whilst Jack wriggled around, trying to manoeuvre his shirt over his head, the giant licked his bowl clean, gave a big burp and called for his hen.
Jack’s head popped out from under the bottom of his shirt and he threw it over the back of the armchair. Blowing glitter out of his eyes and not a bit worried about his bare chest, he noticed Sam, Nick and Old Tim were staring, wide-eyed with goofy grins, at the giant.
‘What-thshappathing?’ Jack said, pulling a pink sticker from his tongue.
‘Watch this’ was Sam’s answer.
You probably know that the hen the giant called for was a special hen that laid golden eggs. Jack delayed his escape momentarily to join the others and watch the giant hen lay a humongous golden egg. Jack’s mum would love an egg like that. Jack wriggled out of his trousers, leaving them attached to the armchair. He waited until both the giants were snoring gently, then, with a head still covered in glittery stickers and wearing only his pants, he crept across the room, grabbed the hen (which was almost as big as him and quite awkward to carry) and scarpered back down the beanstalk.
Thankfully, the only person who saw him was his mother, who ran out of their house.
‘Jack! You’re back!’ she said. ‘What’s that?’ She pointed to the enormous hen. When Jack explained what it could do, his mother was so pleased that she didn’t mention Jack’s lack of clothes or his pink glittery hair.
With the hen’s golden eggs, Jack and his mother bought a bigger house and filled it full of shiny things. But … there were always more things to get.
It wasn’t long before Jack’s mother said, ‘Jack, tell me more about this giant’s house. Was there anything else we might make use of?’
As I’m sure you know, Jack went back up the beanstalk a third time. What you probably didn’t know was that he went equipped with tools and it was Christmas. Maybe he went up to find his old mum a Christmas present. Or maybe he had a moment of conscience and remembered his friends Sam, Nick and Old Tim.
Whatever the reason, this time, he was lucky. He arrived in the Land of Giants without bumping into the giant’s crazy daughter. He sneaked into the castle and made his way to the doll’s house.
‘Psst,’ he whispered.
There was a huge Christmas tree made of felt in the corner of the doll’s house. It turned around.
‘Sam!’
Poor Sam had been stuffed into a tree costume. His face was bright red and there was a fairy light up his nose. ‘Jack! You’re back!’ He grinned. ‘Nick!’ he called out. ‘Look who’s here.’
Jack heard a bump, bump, shuffle, bump, and then Nick, who had been nailed to his chair, appeared. ‘Did you come to rescue us?’
‘Absolutely.’ Jack plonked his bag of tools down on the smelly, old armchair – which still had his trousers stuck to it. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to get you out of here.’ Then he realised someone was missing. ‘Where’s Old Tim?’
Nick shook his head sadly. ‘He didn’t make it. Died last week.’
Jack turned white and swallowed back his sob. He should have come sooner.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
There was no time to feel bad. The giant was home, and his daughter with him.
Nick froze. Sam stood up tall. Jack hid behind the armchair.
‘Fe. Fi. Fo. Fum …’
The giant still thought he could smell the blood of an Englishman. But there was a lovely turkey stew in the pot and they sat down to eat.
As the giants gobbled and slurped their way through their dinners, Jack took a saw from his bag of tools and cut Nick free from his chair. Then he produced a pair of scissors and cut Sam out of his Christmas tree costume. The three of them watched as the giant called for his harp, which – I expect you remember – played the giants to sleep. Jack, Nick and Sam could have quietly crept away but Jack knew his greedy mum would want that harp. So, he tiptoed over and grabbed it.
Unfortunately for Jack, it was a talking harp.
‘Help! Help! Thief! Thief!’ the harp trilled, and the giants awoke with a snort and a grumble.
Jack and his friends ran for their lives.
Sam made it as far as the garden wall before the giant’s child snatched him up.
Nick fell just before they got to the beanstalk.
Jack turned back.
‘Go! Go without me!’ Nick shouted. ‘Live a good life, Jack, and never come back!’
Jack didn’t want to leave Nick, but the giant was right behind him.
‘Go!’ Nick urged Jack.
So he went.
Feeling like a cowardly worm, he climbed down the beanstalk as fast as he possibly could.
As I’m sure you know, the giant followed him. Less often spoken about is how Jack sobbed as he chopped down the beanstalk. Not for the giant, who had done nothing to Jack, except raise a cruel, crazy daughter. But for his friends who he’d left behind.
Jack never spoke about Nick, Sam and Old Tim. He never mentioned the giant’s child or the doll’s house, or the dress and the pink glitter. He told his story the way you’ve heard it and everyone thought tha
t was how it happened.
But now you know the truth.
If you’re wondering how I know this? Well, Sam and Nick didn’t die when Jack left them at the top of the beanstalk. They lived. They saw the beanstalk fall and heard the huge thump as the giant broke his back. They felt sorry for the giant’s child and sat with her all night whilst she waited for her father to come home. They dried her tears. They made her supper. They helped her hold a funeral.
‘Dollies look after me?’ she asked them.
Her big, giant eyes looked so lost, Sam and Nick didn’t have the heart to leave her.
‘You must promise to stop hurting us,’ said Nick.
The giant’s child looked at them with big, questioning eyes. ‘No sticky, sticky?’
‘No squeezy, squeezy,’ Sam said.
‘No pretty, pretty,’ Nick added.
‘OK,’ she sighed. ‘I sorry.’
Sam and Nick made a home for themselves in the doll’s house. Once they established a few ground rules, like it’s wrong to stick nails into people, they found she was actually a very sweet gigantic girl.
They all lived happily together for many, many years.
That giant child was my great-great-grandmother and her tale is a favourite bedtime story for giants. It’s how we learned that human beings have feelings too.
Why am I telling you this? Because now you know that giants have stories just like you.
The Mysterious Transformation of the Prince of Amphibia
Stephanie Aslan
Once upon a time, in the ancient kingdom of Amphibia, there was a prince who had a rare talent: he could play chess against anyone, and win.
He often only had himself to play against, and the prince grew arrogant and bored. He ordered his servants to issue royal summons to every household in his kingdom, demanding his people journey to the castle for a match.
It was no surprise that the prince won every game. His opponents lost not just their pride, but everything to their name, and were sent on their way penniless. Yet, one by one, they arrived reluctantly to play against him, for denying his summons was punishable by death.
Once Upon A Fairytale Page 6