Giuliana and the Giant



  GIULIANA AND THE GIANT

  (A Snippets Book)

  David Elvar

  Copyright 2009 David Elvar

  ~oOo~

  Many years ago and many miles away, there was a village. It was a quaint little village with lots of tiny cottages and all the shops anyone could possibly ever need, and the people there were very happy. Usually, anyway.

  Three times a day, they were not happy. Three times a day, at breakfast, lunch and dinner, the ground would quake and the houses would shake. And sometimes, usually most times, the sound of thunder would fill the air and all the villagers would clasp their hands over their ears and wish it would stop. Three times a day, that would happen. At breakfast, lunch and dinner.

  The villagers knew what was causing all this, of course. You see, in a mountain not far from the village lived a giant. He wasn’t your normal everyday giant, with eyes of fire and big yellow teeth and a healthy appetite for eating people three times a day. No, this giant’s eyes were deepest blue, he preferred eating vegetable soup to people and his teeth were only ever yellow when he forgot to clean them.

  But like most giants, he had terrible table manners. And when he drank from his soup bowl, he’d make such a noise that all the houses would shake. And when he finished, he’d slam his bowl down on the table and that would cause the ground to quake. And when he burped, that would be the sound of thunder that all the villagers could hear.

  But there was nothing the villagers could do about him. Like all giants, he was rather large, so large, in fact, that his soup bowl was the size of a bath and his spoons the size of saucepans. So he was not likely to listen to anyone asking him to do anything, let alone eat quietly. But then one morning, after a particularly shaky and thundery breakfast, one man stepped forward, the bravest man in the village.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and ask the giant to eat quietly.’

  The villagers were amazed but they didn’t try to stop him. They just crowded round and shook his hand and thanked him, especially the town mayor who proclaimed to any who would listen that he’d known all along the man would volunteer.

  So the man left the village and climbed up into the mountains. All too soon, he stood at the door of the giant’s cave. Nervously, he knocked. The door swung back slowly to reveal the giant towering over him.

  ‘Yes?’ the giant rumbled.

  ‘Er…I’ve come to ask you to eat quietly,’ the man said uncertainly. ‘You see, you’re quaking the earth and shaking the houses and making sounds like thunder and…well, it’s just not very nice, that’s all…’

  ‘Is that so!’ roared the giant, and he smiled, revealing a row of stumpy yellow teeth (he’d forgotten to clean them again). ‘Well, I don’t feel like eating quietly. So run along, little man, before you find yourself in my next bowl of soup.’

  The man turned and fled. When he got back to the village, everyone crowded round and asked him what had happened.

  ‘It was terrible!’ the man breathed. ‘The giant was huge with the longest teeth with the sharpest points you’ve ever seen and he said he didn’t want to eat quietly and if I went back there again, he’d put me in his next bowl of soup!’

  And the villagers said this was terrible and what were they going to do next, especially the mayor who proclaimed to any who would listen that he’d known all along that the giant would refuse to eat quietly. Then the second bravest man in the village stepped forward.

  ‘Let me try,’ he said. ‘Let me go and ask the giant to eat quietly.’

  The villagers, of course, crowded round a second time and shook his hand and thanked him, especially the mayor who proclaimed to any who would listen that he’d known all along someone else would volunteer.

  So, for the second time that day, a man left the village and climbed up into the mountains to knock nervously on the giant’s door. And again, for the second time that day, the door swung back.

  ‘Yes?’ the giant rumbled.

  ‘I’ve been sent by the village to ask you a second time to eat quietly,’ the man said uncertainly. ‘All this house shaking and all this earth quaking and all this thunder, it’s not very nice, you know.’

  ‘Is it not!’ roared the giant, and he smiled, revealing his yellow teeth again (he still hadn’t cleaned them). ‘Well, I don’t like eating quietly. So run along, little man, before I decide I’m tired of vegetable soup and start to wonder what you would taste like in a stew.’

  The man turned and fled. When he got back to the village, everyone crowded round and asked him what had happened.

  ‘It was terrible!’ the man breathed. ‘The giant was enormous with hair knitted from stinging nettles and he told me to tell you if we sent anyone else up there, he’d have the whole lot of us for supper in a big stew.’

  And the villagers said this was terrible and what were they going to do next, especially the mayor who proclaimed to any who would listen that he’d known all along that the giant liked stew.

  Then a small voice was speaking up from back of the crowd. It belonged to a little girl with long golden hair. Her name was Giuliana and she seemed quite determined to be heard.

  ‘Why don’t I visit the giant?’ she said. ‘Why don’t I ask him to eat quietly?’

  The whole crowd turned to her. Nobody seemed to move. Then the third bravest man in the village (who really wasn’t at all brave but was still braver than everyone else) said, ‘What a good idea! I mean, the giant wouldn’t dare eat a little girl.’

  ‘He might,’ said the bravest man.

  ‘He might indeed,’ said the second bravest man.

  ‘I’ve known all along that giants like the taste of little girls,’ said the mayor. ‘But we don’t have any better ideas so yes, go and ask the giant to eat quietly.’

  Giuliana said nothing. She just smiled mysteriously and skipped off in the direction of the mountain.

  An hour later, she hadn’t returned. Two hours later, she still hadn’t returned. The villagers went to their homes and had lunch. But as they sat there eating, a most curious thing happened. Or rather, it didn’t happen. No quaking of the earth, no shaking of the houses and definitely no thunder. They finished their lunch and went back to the village square.

  ‘Do you suppose the giant has eaten her?’ said the bravest man. ‘Do you suppose I’d better go and find out if she’s all right?’

  ‘Do you suppose I’d better come with you?’ said the second bravest man.

  ‘Do you suppose the whole village should come with you?’ said the third bravest man who could see only too well where this was heading.

  And with that, it was decided. The whole village went up the mountain to the giant’s cave.

  They stopped before his door. The town mayor said to the third bravest man in the village, ‘Knock on the door.’

  And the third bravest man in the village said to the second bravest, ‘Knock on the door.’

  And the second bravest man in the village was about to speak when the bravest said, ‘Oh, forget it! I’ll do it!’

  He knocked on the door. The whole village held their breath. There were footsteps from within…the door opened slowly…and a giant face with eyes that weren’t fiery red and hair that wasn’t knitted stinging nettles appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Ah, visitors,’ it said politely. ‘Do come in.’

  The villagers were surprised but stepped forward into the giant’s cave, anyway. And they saw a most curious sight. For there on the table, sitting on an upturned eggcup and looking decidedly uneaten, was Giuliana.

  ‘Ah, just in time for afternoon tea,’ she said, looking down on some very surprised villagers.

  ‘But—’ spluttered the mayor.

  ‘—you’re not�
€”’ spluttered the second bravest man in the village.

  ‘—eaten!’ finished the bravest man.

  ‘Well, of course not!’ said Giuliana. ‘It’s very rude to eat little girls.’

  ‘And I’m not rude at all,’ the giant added.

  ‘But you said you’d eat me!’ cried the bravest man in the village.

  ‘And me!’ cried the second bravest man in the village.

  ‘And probably me, too!’ cried the third bravest man. ‘If I’d actually come here, of course.’

  The giant laughed. And as he did so, his whole cave shook, and down in the village, several mirrors fell off their walls and crashed to the floor. ‘I didn’t care for your company, that’s all,’ he said. ‘I just needed a way to get rid of you.’

  ‘And—and Giuliana?’ said the mayor.

  The giant turned to her and smiled, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth that weren’t long and sharp at all and looked as though someone had made him brush them recently.

  ‘And Giuliana,’ he repeated. ‘Why would I wish to get rid of such charming company?’

  ‘After all,’ she said to the mayor, ‘all it takes to get someone to do something is to be nice to them.’

  ‘Indeed it is,’ the villagers murmured, except the mayor who proclaimed to any who would listen that he’d known all along it only needed someone to be nice to the giant to stop the houses shaking and the earth quaking and the thunder crashing. And everyone told him to shut up and the giant invited them to stay for afternoon tea.

  They lived happily together after that, the villagers and Giuliana and the giant. There never was another earthquake, nor did any house shake. But sometimes, just sometimes, there would be the sudden sound of thunder and the villagers would know that the giant had just enjoyed a particularly good bowl of vegetable soup. But always, always, it would be swiftly followed by a deep voice rumbling ‘Pardon!’

  And they would be polite enough not to mention it. Because after all, good manners work both ways, don’t they…

  ~oOo~

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