by Cameron Jace
“You wouldn’t be able to get into the market anyway,” the girl said. “It’s private, and the goblins will eat you alive if they can’t sell you.”
“But wait, I thought I heard my grandmother say the goblins make something called the Forbidden Fruit.”
“They do, but they sell kids for profit.”
“That’s awful,” Jack said. “Did you escape?”
“Yes.”
“Why not go back to your family?”
“They’re the ones who wanted to sell me.”
Jack was speechless. He remembered his ruthless father instantly. Then he remembered Jill, but he didn’t hang on to the thought or he’d collapse crying again. “Why did they want to sell you? They hate you that much?”
“They need money. We’re poor,” the girl said. “I have nine siblings, but they said I make the most noise. So it was my turn.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. Listen, why don’t you come to my tree. I have bananas.”
“I love bananas,” the girl squealed. “But do you have enough for all of us?”
“Us?”
The girl then pointed at the rest of the pumpkins. All the children that had escaped the Goblin Market came rolling out.
And so Jack, at the age of thirteen, was practically responsible for more than twenty pumpkins. First, he made sure they nested their hiding pumpkins in the tree so whenever the goblins came looking for them they'd still not see them. Then, he fed them bananas and beans and all he could steal from the forest. Jack even sang to them before bedtime. He then made sure they were sleeping well, before going to sleep himself.
Which he ended up unable to do. The pumpkins claimed he snored like an angry pig, so he had to take fast naps by day.
But the thuds were becoming more and more frequent. Jack asked the pumpkins what it was and they told him it was the giant of the trees who many times squashed their pumpkins with a child inside.
"Giant in a tree?" Jack asked. "Why would a giant live in a tree? Wouldn't it be more convenient if he lived on the ground since people will fear him? Besides, how could those trees possibly carry a giant?"
"You're asking too much, Jack," the pumpkins said. "We're hungry."
"Then eat your bananas."
"We're fed up with bananas. We aren't monkeys. We want real food."
"Real food like what?"
"Loaves of bread." They licked their lips. "How about meat? Real meat. Grilled with sauce and smelling delicious?"
"But..."
"Just get it, Jack. For us."
Jack sighed and continued his absurd role as a surrogate young father. While he didn't really want to spoil the children, it was the dream he had that night that changed his mind and urged him to get them what they asked for. It was a special dream, about someone he missed so much.
It was Jill.
He dreamt of Jill still trapped in the basement of her new owner, having sold for a cheap price in the Goblin Market. He dreamed of his mother helplessly crying in her abandoned cottage in the middle of snow. She’d grown weak with the years and couldn't help herself. Not against a dark man like his father.
Jack wanted to help her but couldn't enter the house in the dream. He was locked out in the snow, risking freezing to death. So his dream took him back to wherever Jill was, in a dark house in a forgotten forest. He could not help her either, but he could hear her talking to him.
"Go help the children." Jill said. "I will forgive you for leaving me behind if you get them what they want. Don't mess it up this time. They need you like I needed you. Don't disappoint them like you disappointed me."
Jack woke up sweating. "J...," he stuttered.
The sun hadn’t come up yet, and Jack wondered if Jill hadn’t been sold in the Goblin Market. After all, it was Jack whom his father hated the most. It was Jack who wasn’t his so-called-father’s light son. May the old dark man had finally sympathized with his own flesh and blood, Jill, and forgave. Just maybe.
Once the sun kissed his face, he climbed down and ran to the grocery market. Like a mad boy, he began stealing loaves from the men and woman walking back from the market.
"Thief!" a woman cried.
"Catch the young thief who stole my loaf of bread!"
Jack realized he'd lost it, stealing aggressively and not being coy and smart about it. He realized that in his mind he'd thought that being a good thief would mean not getting caught.
He was very wrong.
Soon, the men and women were chasing after him, shouting at him. Jack ran and ran. Suddenly, the vast forest seemed narrow and small. He had no way to escape, as he couldn't just run to a tree and climb it, otherwise he would end up exposing his -- and the children's -- hideaway.
It occurred to him to run to me, his grandmother, and hide in my cottage. But he was too far away and his chasers had already memorized what he looked like.
Jack was only able to hide behind a green bush, just briefly to catch his breath. But they might catch him hiding there.
As he was hiding, he saw man in a green outfit walk by. On impulse, Jack ran toward him and knocked him down. Then he stole the man's green outfit, which was too big for him but helped him blend with the bushes. Now they were both the same color. If he could only find a green hat as well, they'd never distinguish him from the bushes where he was hiding.
But he found none so he ducked, waiting for his chasers to give up on finding him.
For hours, Jack crouched in his green outfit behind the bush. The more time that passed, the safer he felt. They weren’t going to catch him after all.
Or so he thought.
A hand suddenly gripped his shoulder. Jack couldn't move. It was a strong grip, probably a man thrice his age.
"Bad thief,” the man said.
Jack said nothing, but closed his eyes in disappointment.
"I'm a good thief."
"There is no such thing," the man said.
"I am stealing food to feed those who need it," Jack argued, wishing he could turn around and see the man's face.
"Why couldn't they get their food themselves?" the man inquired.
"They're six-year-olds. They need my help."
"I think it's you who needs help. What are you, ten years old?"
"I am thirteen!” Jack gritted his teeth. He hated strangers mistaking him for a younger lad.
"You should be going to school."
"I hate school."
The man took his time to answer. Jack thought he'd heard the man chuckle. "I hated school, too." The man's grip loosened, exchanged by a light tap on the shoulder.
Jack reluctantly turned around.
There was so much to take in at once. The man looked in his thirties but far from what Jack had assumed. He looked... well Jack had no word to describe the feeling then, but in later life he would know that the word he had been looking for was 'cool’.
The man stood leaning against a tree, one foot crossed over the other and biting on a white rose, just like Jack used to do. Only this man did it cooler.
He was a lanky man, but well built. He wore a green outfit, like Jack's, only cooler and warrior-like. His face was a bit rugged. Jack could tell the man had had his share of man-to-man fights. And that smirk on the corner of his mouth never abandoned him. It was the look of a man who'd seen the world’s fears and laughed at them. A look of man who had fun with everything he did.
But most exquisite of all, the man wore on his head what Jack had wished for. A green hat.
Let me rephrase that. The coolest green hat ever.
"How are you?" the man asked Jack.
It was some out of the blue question. How are you? What kind of conversation was that?
"I am feeling exhausted and confused," Jack said.
"Really?" The man tongued the flower in his mouth. "And?"
"My life is a mess. I disappointed my sister. Got angry with my grandmother who loves me dearly. Went to live alone in a tree. I think I talked to monkeys, but am not sure. Trie
d to do good, feeding the children who count on me. But ended up being caught as a thief. Who knows what will happen to me now."
"Wow," the man said. "That's too much drama for a ten-year-old."
"Thirteen!"
"Not really much of a difference," the man dismissed him. "Now listen to me carefully."
"I am."
"I will let you go, under one condition," the man said.
"Anything you say," Jack pleaded.
"You promise that whenever anyone asks you how you are doing, you will never give that pathetic speech you've just given me."
"I promise."
"Not so fast." The man threw the flower away and waved a hand at Jack. "I want you to always answer the 'how are you?' with one word. And one word only."
"One word? However I feel like?"
"I don't care if your grandmother just died or your children are hungry or if you had the worst day in your life. You never show people how you really feel, and thus, answer with one word only."
"If will let me go, I'll do whatever you ask," Jack said. "What's the word?"
"Awesome!" the man said, theatrically waving his arms as if he were the coolest pirate in the world.
"Awe-what?" Jack had never heard that word before, but he was curious to know it. Because the man seemed so confident and full of himself saying it. And Jack realized he'd die to feel the same way.
"Oh-some," the man spelled. "Kinda."
"Kinda?" Jack grimaced.
"Forget that last one. You just say ‘awe’, as if someone just pinched you hard, then some. You know how to say some, don't you?"
"Awesome," Jack said.
"Now, that's how the word is spelled, but not how it feels." The man pursed his lips. "You see, words are nothing but letters. Dead alphabets, which have no meaning. It's the way we say a word that gives it color and enlivens it."
"Awesome." Jack tried to sound enthusiastic.
"Not like that." The man took Jack's hands and pulled them upward to the sky. "Now chin up, young man. Chest forward. Imagine you're that person who everyone wants to become."
"I don't know what that person is like," Jack argued.
"Like me," the man said. "I am awesome."
Slowly Jack understood. He realized he really wanted to be like this man in the green hat. A man who didn't really care about what others thought of him and only did as he pleased.
"Awesome!" Jack roared.
"That's it!" The man's eyes brightened. "Now what's your name, young man?"
"Jack. Jack Madly."
"Say I am Jack Madly and I am awesome!"
Jack's heart pumped saying the words. He felt so free and accepting of the world. And the best part was he had no such reason to. It felt... well, awesome.
"No matter how you feel this is how you think of yourself," the man added. "In your darkest hours, you should know that you're awesome and it will get better. Got it?"
Jack nodded eagerly.
"You know what will make you really awesome?"
"Not sure what?"
"This." The man took of his hat and placed on Jack's head.
Jack could not explain the euphoria he felt. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Keep it. Now, about being a bad thief."
"I know. I will stop stealing."
"Of course you will not, you fool," the man said. "I want you to keep stealing."
"Really?"
"But you're doing it wrong."
"How so?"
"A bad thief steals from everyone and anyone, even if he ends up feeding the hopeless children like you do," the man preached. "Look at yourself; stealing from the poor to feed the poor. The right way to do it is to steal from the rich." The man pointed at the far away castle at the top of the bill, where the king and queen of Sorrow lived.
"You want me to steal from them?" Jack almost shrieked.
"They're the ones who wouldn't even notice you stole from them. I mean steal a loaf of bread from a poor man and he'd never forgive you because he and his children will sleep hungry that night. But steal from the queen's kitchen, I'd doubt they'd even notice the missing piece."
Jack shrugged, imaging how hard it would be to steal from the castle. But it would also be fun and challenging. Besides, he was awesome now. Awesome thieves need to steal awesome things.
"Trust me," the man said. "It'll only scare you the first couple of times, but then you'll master it. Now go and be an awesomely good thief."
And just like that, the man turned around and walked away, slowly disappearing into the night.
"You don't want your hat back?" Jack offered.
"Keep it. It's yours," the man's voice said from the dark of the forest.
Jack stood stranded, wondering if he'd just imagined this man like he may have imagined the monkeys. But hey, he wore the green hat so the man had to be real. Still, he had one last question.
"What's your name, sir?"
"I have many," the man said. "But some like to call me Robin Hood.”
Soon, Jack learned how to steal from the Sorrow's castle, and he has never been caught - yet.
He had figured out a way to sneak his tiny body into the carriage which transported groceries into the castle. Like the children, he hid in a pumpkin. The Queen of Sorrow had always been fond of huge and oblong pumpkins. It was said she never ate them, but enjoyed the feel of squashing them against someone's face. Jack not only enjoyed hiding inside them, but they were delicious too.
Well, let's rephrase that again: Jack thought the pumpkins were awesomely delicious.
"I'm Jack Madly and I am awesome," he would whisper to himself, hiding in the closet in the kitchen with all his recently stolen possessions, waiting for the cooks to leave so he could sneak back into the carriage on its way back.
Stealing seemed an easy task for him. It was the hiding and waiting that bored him to death.
"Who's there?" one of the queen's cooks once demanded.
Jack's eyes widened, a lump stuck in his throat. What was he going to do? If the cook opened the door to the closet, she'd find him and send him to the queen -who everyone believed ate children, and later confirmed she killed them by swimming in their blood.
"Show yourself or I will call the guards," the cook said.
"You go away," Jack replied in a muffled creepy voice from inside the closet. Then he shook the closet violently from inside.
"Holy mother of ghosts," the cook shivered. "Who are you?"
"I'm the spirit of the pig you just ate," Jack struggled not to laugh. "You think slicing and cooking me will go unpunished?"
"I'm sorry, but I am not the cook. I didn't eat you."
"If you hadn't cooked me, they wouldn't have eaten me."
Jack could hear the cook's teeth chattering. "Please forgive me."
"Only if you jump in the cooking pan and taste the heat and the pain of being cooked."
"But I am too big for the pan."
"Then slice off your arm and cook it in the pan." Jack snickered for a moment.
"Please, please. I don't want to die. I will do anything else."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
"Close your eyes then, and never open them until my spirit leaves this place."
"Of course. How long will you stay?"
"Keep your eyes closed and count the pigs in the sky."
"You mean the sheep?"
"They were never sheep. They've always been pigs."
"Of course. Of course. I will do what you tell me."
That day, Jack snuck out of the kitchen and hid in the carriage as it drove him back to the forest. Proud of his accomplishments, Jack strolled through the darkness until he saw two children, about seven or so, flinging beans on the ground.
"What a waste?" Jack protested. "Do you have any idea how many trees those beans could grow?"
"Do you have any idea that our mother is trying to kill us?" the girl said. "We use the beans as breadcrumbs to find our way back home after we escape
from her wrath every night."
"Yes we do!" the girl's brother said. "Just like Fable said."
"Shut up, Axel," Fable said. "You don't have to repeat everything I say."
Jack took a moment, while staring at them, wondering what was wrong with the world. Why did the children fear their parents in Sorrow? Just like him and Jill. It seemed awkward and unbelievable. He let a long sigh. "I understand. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted."
"Wait," Fable said. "What's your name?"
"Jack Madly."
"The awesome one?" Axel chirped.
"You know me?"
"You're the most famous thief in Sorrow," Fable said. "The Queen of Sorrow wants your head chopped off."
"She believes you're behind the things disappearing from her castle," Axel said.
Jack couldn’t process the words fast enough. He was famous? And officially awesome.
Jack and the two siblings chatted for a while. It was the beginning of a long, long relationship, especially between him and Fable, who later helped him raid the Goblin Market many times.
And it was Fable that noticed the underlying sadness in Jack's eyes. Though merry, flamboyant, and certainly awesome, Jack seemed sad on the inside.
Fable in all her innocence told him so.
"I'm not sad," Jack said. "I'm aw.."
"...ful," Fable finished for him.
"Why are you calling me awful? Because I steal?"
"No, because you're escaping the things you feel inside. What's hurting you Jack? What are you trying to hide by being so awesome all the time?"
Jack didn't like Fable then, though they became better friends later. It was the first time someone had looked inside him and said things like they were. He didn't like it. He didn't like to remember bad things.
And so Jack left the brother and sister, after they had given him a handful of beans. He tucked them into his pocket and walked away.
With the sack on his back, he didn't feel like going back to his pumpkins on the tree. He needed a long and lonely walk in the forest. He walked for hours, lost in his thoughts. Maybe Fable was right. Maybe he had no business staying in Sorrow and he had to go back and face his vicious father.
A hand clamped on his mouth all of a sudden, and he found himself being pulled back into the shadows. Normally Jack would have fought back, but something about that hand scared him. It was a hairy hand. Like a wolf.