When not playing video games for work, being a stay-at-home parent, loving up my wife and caring for the house – I have a dream. My dream is to become a beloved Children’s Book writer. Here’s a sequel to Jack & the Beanstalk, my first book. PLEASE comment! I have a thick skin. I plan to post at least the first three chapters here’s Chapter III: Signed: A Foe. So, here goes, this one is for the 6-12 year olds out there: – Andrew S.Bub (all rights reserved)
Chapter 3: “Signed: a Foe”
THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING!
Now, daughter of the fearsome Jack, prove that you aren’t a lucky fool like your father and give me his booty. I want the Goose that Lays the Golden Eggs and the Harp that Sings!
Leave them unguarded!
Fail or refuse, and they won’t ever find your body underneath the rubble and nobody will know your story!
-Signed, Your Foe
Signed “a Giant,” Jenny immediately guessed, adding a ‘Fee-Fi’ and ‘Fum’ around the ‘Foe.’ ‘Foe’ meant bad guy, she knew. She crumpled the note in anger. She began pacing, thinking and grumbling to herself. How dare a giant attack my family? She squinched her face up into what she hoped looked like a mask of rage. This is MY house and I am Jack’s daughter! My father is a hero! She started pacing faster. What my father can do, I do just as well!
“I’m the hero now!” she said aloud. It sounded good to her. It sounded, right.
She looked at the hole in the ceiling and the ruin surrounding her and knew that something needed to be done. This is my chance! People will read my story after I get done with this giant. She put her small fists on her slim hips and smiled at the hole. “Giant!” she called. “You just made a big mistake!”
Jenny raced down the basement stairs two at a time and was glad to find the goose there, sitting in her secret basement pen, with nary a feather ruffled. Jenny patted the little goose on the head and turned around when she heard an insistent ripple of string music. It was The Singing Harp, looking alarmed.
“Jack’s gone and something’s wrong?” the metal woman carved into the harp trilled in her poetic speech pattern.
“Yes! A giant is dropping things on the house! He’s after the goose!” said Jenny, pointing at the goose.
“I’ll sing a song if things go wrong” the harp said firmly.
“Right, that would be . . . helpful,” said Jenny. “Do you know where dad keeps the extra magic beans?”
The harp seemed to narrow her eyes, which was impossible as her eyes were carved into the golden metal.
Jenny showed the instrument the note. “We’re under Giant-Attack!”
“Behind the chair and under the stair,” the harp said.
Jenny looked over at the massive chair next to the basement steps. With a grunt, she pulled the heavy chair away from the wall. Sure enough, there was a tiny door inside a small cabinet set into the wall. She opened it and found one magic bean that her father had cut from the final and dying beanstalk years before. She grabbed it and ran back upstairs. The harp played some appropriately heroic and stirring music.
Jenny ran upstairs and changed into her traveling clothes. A starched white long sleeve shirt, brown leather pants, and thick soled black boots. She loved the boots, they made her at least an inch taller, and every little bit helps when you’re fighting a giant, she thought.
“It’s time for me to kill a giant, I think,” she said. “It’s time to start climbing!”
She walked out into the backyard, scanning the sky for more falling objects, ready to dodge if she had to. She walked over to the stump and planted the bean next to it.
Then she waited. Nothing happened at first. Then nothing happened at second, or third. She didn’t like waiting, because it was giving her time to think about awful things like getting stepped on . . . or eaten.
This might take a while, she thought. She began reciting nursery rhymes in her head. Her father jumped over the candlestick, Mother Hubbard looked in her cupboard, and the cow jumped over the moon several times in a row. Mom was scared by the spider who sat down beside her and mom and dad fell down while getting a pail of water. Dad still got headaches from that one now and then.
Then she heard someone whistling a jolly happy song. Someone was coming! Someone to help me, maybe? Jenny caught a glimpse of yellow downy feathers, but right then a shadow appeared between them. It grew really fast, like a small black pond, and Jenny jumped backwards as a massive wheelbarrow fell from the sky and crushed the side of the house. There was a huge puff of dust and Jenny hung her head in despair.
There goes the family room, she thought.
“The sky is falling!” shrieked a shrill voice.
The yellow-feathered stranger was little Chicken Little, or as she preferred, Henny Penny.
“The sky is falling!” Henny Penny yelled again.
And again a few more times as she ran down the path. “The sky is falling…” her frantic cry receded and grew silent.
Yes, I’ll be fine now, she told herself. Dear sweet Henny Penny will get help! Wait a minute. Jenny felt her heart sink. Henny Penny would tell then that the sky is falling. And, like last time, nobody will listen.
I’m on my own.
It was warm, and while she tried to stay awake, she soon drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
AND THERE YOU GO. LIKE IT? HOPE PUBLISHERS DO TOO.
NEXT – Harvey Stickman Saves Chicago