Jack – Part III

I’m trying out a little game I thought up. The game is to retell a fairy tale or children’s story while omitting one of the major characters.

This is Jack and the Beanstalk, without the beanstalk (Part 3). Part 1.  Part 2. Part 4.

Jack in the Giant’s Country

“Cast off all moorings!” cried Jack. Every bandit’s stomach was knotted tight: tight with excitement; tight with nerves; tight with anticipation of what lay beyond. When the ropes were cast off, they felt their stomachs flip! as the ship suddenly left the earth and began to soar into the sky. There was no rumble or grinding or crashing of waves – only the sudden leap of their hearts into their throats and the giddy rush of vertigo.

The ship seemed to steer itself; it rose up, and up, and up, until at last the lookout cried “Land!”, and the men saw the great cloud-country in the distance. The ship headed straight towards it, coming gently to rest at its edge.

Disembarking from the ship, Jack and his men set across the Giant’s country, searching for the Giant’s castle. They crossed many hills and vales along the way, but saw no living thing. Cloud-land though it was, it had an eerie calm. Nothing stirred – there was not even a breath of wind to rustle the leaves.

They marched in silence until at last they reached their destination.

The Giant’s castle stood apart from the rest of the land. It was built upon a large cloud and its moat was the empty sky. Its walls were massive. Only a single drawbridge connected it to the mainland, yet… the drawbridge was down and the castle gate was open.

All through his journey, Jack had been plagued with doubt as to how he would assail the Giant, but seeing his opportunity, he raised his sword high above his head and signaled the charge.

Brandishing their weapons and giving out blood-curdling cries, the bandits flooded across the drawbridge and into the castle. They had dined on promises of glory all through their long journey and now! Now they were ready for blood and plunder.

Through the gates they rushed, under the entryway and into the castle courtyard. Once inside, however, they halted in confusion. Where was the enemy to kill? The courtyard was bare. No livestock, no people. Not even wagons to burn or stores to pillage. The castle was deserted.

The only noise they heard was the fall of their own boots on the cobblestones; the only voices were their own.

The place was a graveyard, and they all fell silent.

And then, standing in the stillness of the barren courtyard, they heard a creak, and then a clatter, and then a Clang! The great cullis gate to the castle entrance crashed down behind them. They heard the grinding of mighty gears, and turned to see the drawbridge slowly raising. They were trapped.

Then came the laughter. It echoed from all around, magnified through empty chambers, resounding through the courtyard. A mocking laugh; full of hatred, anger and distain.

Terror seized the bandits. They dropped their weapons and ran. To a man they scattered, and each could think of nothing except that he must get away. It did not matter where – he must be anywhere but there. The laughter in each man’s ears told him to run; it told him he must flee; it told him that his death was at hand.

Jack ran, too. He had never been afraid in his life, but fear gripped him now, and so he put his head down and ran, not knowing or caring where. A door! He darted in. Barrels! He ducked behind them, and huddled down, hardly daring to breathe.

Jack did not know how long he hid there. At intervals he would hear a scream or a cry ring out… and quickly cease.  His men, hiding as he was, were being hunted down and killed, one by one.

When would it be his turn?

It was then that Jack remembered his sword. To his surprise he had not dropped it in the courtyard; he had carried it with him, but all this time it had not spoken a word.

“Tell me! What do I do?” Jack whimpered.

“Do?” scoffed the sword. “You don’t do anything. It’s over. All your men are dead and soon you’ll be dead.”

“No… ” pleaded Jack, “No! Can’t you see any escape, any way out?”

“I’ll tell you what I see. I see bones and ashes.” said the sword, “I see the bones of your countrymen scattered among the ashes of their homes.”

When the sword said this, Jack realized that he had brought the cloud-ship to the Giant’s kingdom, and that once he had killed Jack and his men, the Giant would sail down and pillage the earth until it until it was completely bare.

“Can’t you defeat him?” cried Jack. “You have to help me.”

“No.” said the sword. “I will not rise up against him, for he is my master, and I will never do him harm. It was he who sent me down to earth, that I might bring him back the flesh of men. He will feast on you and your brothers to his heart’s content.”

Jack understood at last that the sword had tricked and betrayed him. He could not bear it; in despair, he seized the blade at either end and brought the flat of it crashing down across his knee. Once! Twice! Three times he struck! At the third blow the blade snapped; the sword gave forth a piercing cry, a horrible, screeching wail… and spoke no more.

Jack sat alone in the silence. The screams outside had stopped, and for some time he heard nothing. And then… footsteps. The heavy thudding of the giant’s feet, coming towards his door. He heard the door creak as it swung open.

Wild with anguish, he sprang up and rushed upon the giant to grapple with him.

The Giant never fought men; he only ever killed them. They cowered from him, they hid. They snivelled. He only ever needed reach out and crush them in his hands,. Yet now he was forced to fight, and though he put forth all his strength, he could not gain an advantage over Jack. They were near equals in size and strength, but of the two of them, only Jack fought as a man with nothing to lose.

All throughout the castle they wrestled, each trying all the holds and throws they knew, fighting each other,  fighting exhaustion.

Seeing he could not defeat Jack, the Giant at last cried out, “If you will depart from here, I will give you all my treasure!”
At this, Jack knew that he had the upper hand, and it gave him new strength. Seizing the Giant by the waist, he put forth a mighty heave, casting the Giant over the parapet of the castle, down through the empty moat and to his death below.

Then, faint with exhaustion, he collapsed and fell asleep.

.

.

When Jack awoke, everything around him was deathly still. He felt more dead than alive – every muscle in his body was bruised and sore. Moreover, he was famished.

Jack stumbled through the castle, looking for something to eat. Eventually he found the kitchen, and although the very act of swallowing was agony to his bruised body, he managed to force down a few mouthfuls of food before collapsing again to sleep.

This went on for some time – waking, eating a little, and sleeping, never staying long in the waking nightmare of the Giant’s deserted castle. During this period Jack knew neither day or night. When he slept, his sleep was feverish and tormented.

In time his strength returned, and he was able to explore the castle.  He found and buried the bodies of his men. None had survived. He also found the giant’s treasure – the gold, the goose and the harp. They were treasures greater than the sword had described.

His quest was over. And yet… he felt that his goal had not been attained.

“Now what shall I do?” thought Jack. What could he do? Go back to the life from which he had fled? He could not. He was now fabulously wealthy, it was true. Yet his legacy there was one of hatred and abomination, void of companionship. All his hopes of an earthly life had died with his men.

In addition, he had thought that with the destruction of the magic sword, he might perhaps lose his unnatural size and return to his previous form, but this was not the case. If anything, he was still growing. There was no chance of living on earth unrecognized. There was nothing there for him.

And so, with no other choice presenting itself, he stayed where he was. He ate the giant’s food and slept in the giant’s bed. To spend the empty hours, he counted the gold and fed the goose and listened to the harp.

One day while fetching water from the castle well, Jack caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bucket. His hair was wild; his beard was wild. His face was harsh and violent.

Jack put down the bucket. He held his huge head in huge hands and began to cry – sobbing huge, gasping sobs.

He had become the Giant.