Short Story

JACK AND THE GARDEN PARTY

James Stubbs, Sherborne Scribblers

‘Go on Jack, tell me again – why are we having this garden party?’

‘Oh Mother, how many times do I have to repeat myself?’

‘Okay, I’ll tell you again, but you must check those scones and the lemon meringue pies in a minute.’

‘Don’t worry, I will!’

‘Well Mother, it was when I was waiting for the giant to go to sleep. I had crawled into a tiny cave in amongst the boulders where he penned the poor miserable sheep. Don’t forget I reached the top of the beanstalk just before sunrise. At first it all seemed magical but as the dawn rose and the shadows started to shift the full horror of that place became apparent.’

‘Remind me, when did you first see the giant?’

‘As I say, at first the place seemed incredible, climbing up through the lush vegetation past the huge bean pods in the moonlight – I couldn’t believe it. It was so exciting. But at the top as the sun rose there appeared before me a deserted place, like an arena full of stones and rocks. It was sandy and very dry. After a while I became aware of a really awful smell and the air was full of dust and debris flying around as if it was being fanned by something.’

‘What was that then?’

‘Well by this time I was getting quite cautious. I let the sun gradually light up the place and became aware of something monstrous hanging in what appeared to be a huge hammock slung between two wizened old oak trees that were bent double with the weight. The smell and the wind had a rhythm to it like breathing.’

‘I would have turned round and fled!’

‘Well I wanted to, but then I heard some other noises, and the huge shape in the hammock shifted and coarsely called out something like, “Wife! Bring me some food,” in a really loud deafening roar.’

‘I definitely would have legged it then.’

‘Well I was going to but then I saw the goose house and I could see that the goose inside had spotted me. I niftily jumped it and clamped my hands round its beak so it couldn’t raise the alarm. It was then that I spotted the golden eggs! I couldn’t believe it! As quick as a flash I tied my kerchief round its beak and stuffed those golden eggs into my haversack.’

‘Oh Jack!’

‘There was the sound of a shrill voice, a shuffling sound and what sounded like sacks being thrown into a pit. As I crept out of the goose house the bird made a bid for freedom and with its wings flapping I tripped on an old sheep carcass and fell

over still clutching the troublesome thing. As I stood up, dusting myself off, to my horror I saw a monstrous forehead and eye appear over the edge of the hammock.’

‘Oh lord!’

‘The eye looked at me and I looked back in disbelief. The size of it! All red and myopic, with what looked like enormous globular stalactites wobbling on the eyelids. I was completely transfixed! The beast with the eye started to roar and only then did I start to run.’

‘What happened then?’

‘I legged it! I could feel the stench of hot breath on my heels and that dreadful roaring, “Fee Fi Fo Fum.” Luckily he was slow and I don’t think his eyesight was that good. I saw the sheep and ran towards them and they scattered and I dived behind a rock. The beast was swiping at anything that moved, cursing and roaring. Then I made for the boulders and in the shade of one I found the tiny crack of a cave. I squeezed myself and the goose right in. Luckily it was deep enough so I could retreat right to the back when that awful nose appeared with giant hairs glistening with all manner of horrible debris. The giant sniffed up and down for an hour at least, roaring that mantra that all Englishmen know so well. I shivered, sweated and prayed at the back of the cave and knew my only chance was to wait for nightfall.’

‘It must have been awful!’

‘Yes it was truly, make no mistake, but fortunately I was safe for the time being and I began to dare to think of all the things I might do if I ever got out of that dreadful place alive. I dreamt of what you and I could do if we had a goose that laid golden eggs! And I got to be so hungry, laid up in that cave for hours and hours, that I started to think of my favourite food. That was when I vowed I would hold a garden party for the whole village if I managed to escape with my life - and the goose!’

‘Well it won’t be long now till our guests begin to arrive. I’m just going to check on those scones and smarten myself up a little! I’ve got a freshly laundered apron somewhere.’

In a Matter of Words – the Sherborne Scribblers’ first collective work of prose and poetry is available now from Winstone’s Books at £9.99