Suitcase of Stars

by Pierdomenico Baccalario

  Everything was blurry. I opened my eyes and found myself on the grass among some rocks. I saw movement above me and realized that the furious giant was lifting a leg, intending to stomp on me.

  I didn’t have time to roll out of the way. This is it, I thought. This is the end. And I didn’t even get to see the best moments of my life pass before my eyes.

  The giant’s foot came down, blotting out all the light. For a moment, I thought I was dead. Then I felt fragments of earth falling onto my face and the pressure of the giant’s foot — but I hadn’t yet been crushed! I opened my eye to see that a rock had rolled next to me and wedged itself underneath the giant’s foot just in time to save me.

  As quick as a flash, I slid out from under the giant’s sole. I’d escaped! I could see the sky above me once again. Right at that moment, I heard a bark. It was like being showered with gold.

  “Patches!” I yelled. My dog was bounding courageously toward the giant. He sank his teeth into the giant’s ankle like a tick attaching itself to a sheepdog. Then I saw that Patches hadn’t come alone. Doug was there, too, armed with Dad’s rifle.

  I learned later that Doug had been the one who rolled the stone under the giant’s foot, saving my life. Pretty smart for a dumb brother.

  “Doug!” I said. “My brother!”

  “Leave Finley alone, you monster!” he shouted.

  Then he turned toward Burnt Beach, and in a louder voice called out, “Don’t worry, Wilma! Doug’s here to save the day!” Doug raised the rifle. Two shots fired from its barrel.

  The shots struck the giant square in the chest. Bits of rock and sparks flew in every direction. There was a long silence while the surprised giant examined its smoking chest.

  At the second round of gunfire, the giant covered its ears as if the noise irritated him more than the actual bullets. All the while, Patches was nipping furiously at its ankles.

  Doug reloaded and he closed the barrel with surprising ease. Crack! Another round shot into the air with a deafening burst. The blast hit the giant on the side of its head, tilting it. It lowered its hands from its ears and glared at Doug.

  “Uh-oh,” Doug said.

  The giant dashed at us like a semi driving at full speed. It smashed the stones around us with its whirling fists. Doug was tossed back against the red house, his rifle skittering away and out of his reach. Patches whimpered and cowered next to a pile of rocks and an anxious-looking seagull.

  I used the distraction to crawl on my belly along the ground in search of my spear.

  Where’d it go? I wondered.

  Just then, I spotted the spear at the end of the path closest to the Enchanted Emporium. I made my way on my elbows along the ground as fast as I could. Just as I thought I’d reached the spear, I found myself swinging up into the air!

  I saw the ground and the sky switch places like I was riding one of those nauseating circus rides. A moment later, I was staring directly into the giant’s right eye. It was milky white and had no pupil.

  It seemed to be examining me like a scientist studying a lab rat. Then it opened his jaws and exhaled. I was sickened by an overpoweringly foul smell.

  I kicked and flailed as hard as I could in an effort to free myself. The giant threw its head back, and then held me up to take a second look, seemingly amused by my helpless writhing.

  Maybe there’s another way to amuse it, I thought.

  “Let’s make a deal!” I shouted with what little breath I had left. “I hear you giants like riddles, right?”

  Its huge milky eye narrowed.

  “Good! Then try this one on for size: why can’t the Scotsman marry his widow’s sister?”

  The giant tilted its head and lifted me up in front of its eyes again.

  “Well?” I said. “Do you know the answer to my riddle, or not?”

  I could feel the giant’s grip on me softening a little. I could actually breathe again. “I’ll give you a bit more time to think about it,” I shouted. “But don’t you try to trick me.”

  “Finley, what is wrong with you?!” Doug yelled. “Get down from there, you idiot!”

  I sighed. Only Doug would imagine that I was voluntarily allowing a giant to crush me to death between its hands.

  “Five!” I counted. “Four!” I closed my eyes. “Three-two-one!”

  The giant’s fingers opened and I slipped free. I landed on the ground with my feet beneath me. I was so shocked, though, that I stumbled and fell onto my back. Doug ran over and helped me up.

  “What did you do to him?” Doug asked.

  I smirked. “The Scottish riddle,” I said.

  “Oh, right!” Doug said, pretending to understand. “Um, now what?”

  I smiled at my brother. I wanted to ask him how he had known to come there to save my life. I wanted to confess that I’d lied about Aiby’s name. I wanted to tell him I was impressed by his quick thinking.

  But there wasn’t time for any of that.

  “Now I have to tell the giant the answer,” I said, turning to face it.

  The giant tilted its head, its milky eyes blinking at me. “The Scotsman can’t marry his widow’s sister because if she’s a widow, then the Scotsman must already be dead!”

  Silence.

  Then more silence.

  Did it understand my riddle? I wondered.

  The giant placed a rocky palm on its forehead and let out what sounded like a sigh of disappointment. Then it shrugged its shoulders as if to say, “Oh, well” and sat noisily to the ground.

  “What now,” Doug asked while still scanning the horizon for his precious Wilma.

  I brushed the dust off my shirt. “Don’t worry, bro,” I said. “I have everything under control.”

  I walked up to the waiting giant and stood between its legs so I could look it straight in the eyes. It gazed at me with its head tilted, waiting for the second riddle.

  I gulped. Now I have to think up another one, I thought.

  I was terrible at thinking up riddles — even worse than I was at math or history. I’d never been able to figure one out by myself or remember any of them. It was the same way with telling jokes. I wasn’t like Jackie Turbine, who could tell fifty jokes one after the other and leave you aching with laughter. For me, they just went in one ear and out the other.

  So when I found myself in front of that stinking mountain of rock and earth looking at me expectantly for a second riddle, I desperately racked my brain.

  But nothing came to me.

  Not even one riddle.

  My mind was a complete blank.

  Now I could see Aiby at the top of the cove, her father’s blond hair on one side and Meb’s darker hair on the other. I could hear Doug a few steps behind me, too frightened to get any closer. All their eyes were on me.

  I hate these tense silences, I thought. They’re only supposed to happen in films — and only then at the end.

  I heard a trickle of moving pebbles and found Patches sitting at my feet.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said with a smile. “You realize we’re in big trouble, right?”

  He returned his usual bland expression. As usual, he was fine with whatever I was talking about. I knew in that moment that there was no human in the world he would choose over me.

  Or maybe it was just what I hoped was true. Maybe Patches was just hungry and wanted to go home. Thinking about this, though, bought me enough time to come up with another riddle.

  “Listen, giant,” I said. “What do you call . . .” I’m embarrassed to say that my voice cracked a little.

  Slow down, Finley, I thought. You still have some time left to think. You’re about to tell the giant a riddle that makes absolutely no sense. It’s not even a real riddle. The giant will solve it and then it’ll swallow you whole, like it did with Unther Farla.

  But I didn’t have another riddle to give the giant, so I gathered some courage and continued. “What do you call something that’s as big as a cat, furry like a cat, has a tail like a cat, paws
like a cat, whiskers like a cat, and catches mice like a cat — but isn’t a cat?”

  Done. I’d said it. Now it was out of my hands. All of our lives, as well as the fate of the Enchanted Emporium, now rested in the hands of the giant.

  The monster tilted its head one way, and then the other. He balanced his chin on his hands. Then he gave out a long, sad sigh.

  I couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know the answer.

  Time ticked away. The silence was so profound that it seemed like the sea had frozen over and the stars had gone completely still.

  “Five . . .” I said, holding out five fingers.

  I waited a moment. “Four.”

  “Three. Two. One!”

  The giant shrugged. So I gave him the answer. “A she-cat.”

  “Seriously?” Doug said. “A she-cat? That doesn’t even make any sense! We’re all dead.”

  I gulped.

  The giant began to shake its shoulders. It opened its mouth in a strange way and let out a gravelly sound.

  I couldn’t believe it — the giant was laughing!

  The monster bent over and patted me on the shoulder, which by some miracle didn’t send me tumbling off the cliff. Then it motioned for me to tell the final riddle.

  No matter how much I rooted through my memory, I could only recall one other riddle. It was the only riddle I could remember because I’d heard it repeated twice that day and nearly died in the process. And it was a good riddle — a really tough one to solve.

  “Finley?” Doug whispered anxiously. He looked as pale as a sheet.

  Even the giant was starting to fidget.

  ”I have a riddle, Doug,” I said. “Don’t worry.” It was true, I had a riddle in mind. There was just one problem: I didn’t know the answer to it.

  I lifted my eyes to meet the giant’s gaze, and retold the Dutchman’s third riddle about the king and his two sons as best I could.

  “An old king held a contest between his two sons to decide who would get his kingdom. He told them that, um, the son whose horse arrived at the church last would be his heir. The youngest son mounted a horse and galloped at great speed toward the church. Now I ask you, giant: why did the youngest son become king?”

  The giant seemed to remember the riddle from before. It rested its head on its palm, once again trying to figure out the answer.

  In the meantime, I tried to do the same. Come on, Finley, I thought. You can do it.

  I wondered if I should ask Doug for help. After all, he had figured out the first riddle. “Doug?” I whispered. My brother didn’t answer. “Doug?”

  I turned to look at him and saw that he’d passed out. “Great,” I muttered. It would’ve been kinda funny except for that fact that, you know, we were all about to die.

  A king and two sons, I thought. The last to arrive at the church on horseback will be king. The younger son takes a horse and gallops toward the church on it. So how could he win if he arrived first?

  It seemed like an impossible scenario. That meant there had to be a twist. But what is it? I thought.

  The giant shifted its weight. I should have already started the countdown, but what was the point if I didn’t know the answer?

  I closed my eyes and imagined that my dad was the king, and that Doug and I were the two brothers. Doug was the eldest — and the dumb one. I was the younger, smarter one. So why would I, the smarter son, grab my horse and gallop to the church if I knew the son whose horse arrived last would become king?

  The giant grunted. I could tell it was time to begin the countdown. I started very slowly. “Five.”

  If my horse arrived first, I thought, then Doug would win the kingdom. There’s no doubt about that.

  “Four.”

  Maybe Doug deserves the kingdom, I thought. He isn’t so bad, after all. He’s strong, courageous, and he’s good at rugby. And he saved my life — even if he did it mostly to impress Aiby — er, Wilma.

  “Three.”

  But that didn’t matter, because the younger brother became king in the riddle, anyway, I thought. So if he had grabbed his horse and dashed toward the church, it was because . . .

  “Two.”

  Come on, Finley, I thought. Time’s up.

  “One . . .”

  My eyes popped open. That’s it! I realized. It was so simple. The younger brother didn’t take his horse — he took his brother’s horse!

  “You see, my giant friend,” I said. “The younger son inherited the kingdom because he didn’t ride his own horse. Instead, he took his older brother’s horse and rode it to the church. That way, he was sure his own horse would arrive last. And the kingdom would be his.”

  The giant let out an agitated wail. Then it clumsily lifted itself up in an immense twisting of rocky limbs. It leaned right up into my face. It was less than a step away from me, staring at me. Waiting.

  Patches barked at it.

  From the path above us, I heard Aiby cry out. I turned to see her running toward me along with her father and Meb.

  My brother tapped me on the shoulder. “What’s with the giant?” he asked.

  I chuckled. Three riddles, three answers. The pact had been made. “It’s waiting for my command,” I said.

  “Cool!” Doug said. After a moment, he added, “What are you going to make it do?”

  The giant was breathing steadily, waiting for me to speak. Thanks to the Enchanted Emporium, it had been waiting underground for hundreds of years, only to be released from its prison by a crazy man with a vendetta. All because of a debt that had nothing to do with either of us.

  Aiby and her father had almost reached me, but I wanted to give my command before they arrived. I didn’t want to hear what they had to say, because I was going to make the decision myself.

  I rested my hands on the giant’s chin. “Go home, giant,” I said. My voice was soft and quiet like the rustle of tissue paper. “I command you to be free and to return to your family. I command you to never harm the Lily family, or anyone else for that matter. You’ve more than paid the debt to the Enchanted Emporium. No one owes anyone anything anymore.”

  I lowered my hands. The giant lifted its head gently.

  “You’re free,” I repeated.

  It looked around nervously, but didn’t move.

  “Have courage,” I said.

  I saw what looked like a smile on the giant’s face. It turned, looked toward the sea, and started walking.

  Aiby, her father, and Meb had reached me. Doug was by my side, and Patches was at my feet. Together, in silence, we watched the giant as it slowly clambered toward the sea.

  When the giant reached the edge of the water, it turned around to look back at us. It raised an arm as if to wave goodbye.

  Patches let out a single bark. We all waved back, even Mr. Lily. “Please don’t come back!” Mr. Lily said.

  Aiby was gazing out at the sea. Her eyes were brimming with tears. When she saw me looking at her, she slipped her hand into mine.

  I took it and squeezed.

  Patches was the only one who noticed. He lifted his face and rested it against my leg. I couldn’t tell if he was jealous or happy.

  We stayed like that for a long time until the giant disappeared into the sea. My brother elbowed Aiby gently in the side. “What a crazy day, huh, Wilma?” he whispered.

  Aiby shot Doug a confused glance.

  I laughed.

  Thanks to the Dream Weavers, none of the villagers had any idea what had happened that night. They’d all been sleeping and dreaming, protected by the Web of Dreams that had been draped over the village.

  Aiby had wanted to use the Professional Memory Removal Dust on Doug, but I persuaded her not to. My brother had saved my life. Even if he’d been dumb enough to think that a rifle was a good weapon against a rock monster, I still thought he’d earned the honor of remembering that crazy night. Besides, I’d need some leverage to convince him not to kill me once I told him that Wilma’s real name was Aiby.

&n
bsp; The next day, I returned to my duties with Reverend Prospero and the post office. I began to study the behavior of all the villagers who had played a part in the incident. There was the choir master who’d chosen “The Giants of the Sea” for the choir to practice. And Mr. Everett had compiled the list of names that included the Lily family. Last, there was the Widow Rozenkratz, the superintendent who had failed me. Then again, that was probably all my fault.

  The Dutchman’s knife was never found.

  No more messages in bottles turned up.

  But at least no more giants appeared.

  Whenever I could, I still went fishing at my secret place, but I began to enjoy my solitude at the river less and less. In all honesty, I just couldn’t stop myself from thinking about Aiby whenever we were apart.

  A few days after the giant episode, everything was ready for the grand opening of the Enchanted Emporium. The first few guests started to arrive in the village. Soon, people from all over the world began to fill the streets of Applecross. They examined shop windows and gathered in small groups to chat. Some of them greeted each other warmly while others barely spoke a word to anyone. Regardless, the McStay Inn didn’t have a single empty room for the entire weekend, and the kitchens were constantly ladling out cold soup and dry leg of lamb.

  The Lily family had generously decided to invite the whole village to the grand opening. I delivered the invitations myself. They read:

  You are cordially invited

  to the grand opening of

  the Enchanted Emporium.

  Just bring this letter — and your curiosity!

  I even persuaded my parents to attend.

  Immediately, villagers and visitors alike began to gossip about what the party would be like. People whispered about a fabulous fireworks display that was sure to occur. Three submersible sailing vessels were seen floating in Reginald Bay, leading everyone to speculate that mysterious marine adventurers would be in attendance. The women of Applecross mobbed Mrs. Ivana’s beauty salon, and the line of men at the village barber shop trailed out the front door and down the street.

  Meb was constantly busy repairing the villagers’ best clothes. The McBlacks were the only ones not to show their faces that weekend. The last time anyone had seen them was for the funeral of poor Mr. Dogberry. I noted that each of the four undertakers wore black clothing, but that was probably just a coincidence.