Day 214: Giant

Giant
by
Matt Zurbo

 

Martha always wanted to have a baby.
But couldn’t.
(Lady in medieval peasant’s cloths.)

Poor Martha.
(Lady walking down medieval street dejected.)

Then, one day, she found an egg!
(Lady, shocked, in front of giant egg.)

She briefly thought about poaching it,
but came up with a better idea.
(Lady sitting on giant egg.)

Doctors, scientists, her relatives and the Scrambled Eggs Society all tried to convince Martha to come down.
But she would not budge!
(Lady sitting on egg, beating others away with a stick.)

Eventually…
“It’s a GIRL!” the doctor said.

(Martha standing in broken egg shell, happy and straining, holding a baby girl almost as big as her.)

She called the girl Goog, and took her home.
(Lady pushing giant baby in wheelbarrow.)

Where Goog grew, and grew.
(Lady on roof of worker’s cottage, shouting at dumbfounded baby, who’s head and shoulders are poking through wrecked roof.)

They say it takes a village to raise a child.
(Two blacksmiths straining to pull winch rope, Goog on other side of pulley, in air, having her nappy changed.)

It sure did with Goog!
(Farmers shovelling their vegetables from the create, straight into Goog’s open mouth.)

Everyone pitched in.
(Goog playing with real knights and horses as if they were toys. Giant ABC blocks beside her.)

Some of the blacksmiths made Goog play costumes.
“Don’t encourage her!” Martha huffed.
(Goog dressed in rough, tough oversized giant warrior armour. Mum telling off wincing, but smiling, blacksmiths.)

But all Goog wanted to play with was flowers.
(Goog pulling flower to smell, and all of garden bed with it, including cat and chooks. Mum trying to stop her.)

It was hard. Many people objected to Goog.
“Send her to her own people!”

“Find a place she belongs!”
And, mostly; “You can’t trust giants!”
(Goog drinking entire water tower. Lady between Goog and villagers, sweeping her broom to keep them back, arguing.)
But Martha was Goog’s mother and that was that! She would defend her to the end!  

To make things easier, Goog joined the circus. It was fun for a while.
(Goog in big tent, tigers walking up one of her arms, and down the other. Clowns riding unicycles in front of Goog. Trapese artists twirling themselves around her arms and head. Goog, fascinated with a tiny butterfly.)

But Goog, and Martha got sick of travelling from town to town.
(
Circus on rocky road, most members on horseback, or in open wagons. Goog bottom half crammed into lion’s cage, lion pressed flat against bars. Mum sitting grumpily on Goog’s head.)

Eventually, Goog just wanted to leave.
(Goog clinging to tent pole while circus members try to pull Goog free. Mum hitting back one with straw broom.)

So the circus sold her to the fishermen.
(Goog waist deep in water, same size as fishing boat, slapping water and fish onto boat/wetting fishermen. Mum fighting with them.)

The fishermen sold her to the opera.
(Goog crying on stage. Rest of musicians jarring on their instruments, or simply blocking their ears. Mum trying to sooth Goog.)

The only people that wanted her, made Goog plough the fields!
(Goog with harness on, now even bigger. Still a baby, though. Farmhands sewing seeds behind her. Mum arguing with land owners.)

The nights were the worst.
(Gog, in a barn with a chain to her ankle. Mum, exhausted, clothes raggy, sleeping flopped over Goog’s shoulder.)

The only thing that kept Goog going was the love of her mother.
Martha would NEVER quit!
(Middle of night, Mum picking the lock on the leg chain of Goog.)

(Goog sleeping. Mum, Goog twice her size, carrying Goog on her back/over her shoulder. Goog’s feet dragging behind. Moon in background.)

Finally, they made it home.
“Wah! Another monster!” the crowd said.
(Mum and Goog, shoulders slumped, clothes torn, dirty, standing there as people run towards them. Closest is jumping out of their skin. Others are still looking back from where they are running in fear. Many are carrying flaming torches.)

(Goog pulling fingers back as villages poke at her with flaming torches and pitch forks. Mum fighting nearest one.)

(Goog’s hand swiping. Villagers flying through air.)

Martha had had enough!
“What’s going on!” she demanded.
‘We’re being attacked by a Cerberus!” the Mayor squawked.
(Goog looking startled at giant, three-headed dog. Mum in between them, shacking the limp mayor by his collar.)  

“Puppy!” squealed Goog.
(Goog, smiling, arms in air, running towards startled Cerberus.)

(Goog, happy, pulling its ear with one hand, its jowl with the other.)

(Goog hugging it so tight all three dog heads are struggling to cope!)

“Puppy play with Goog all day,” smiled Goog.
(Goog, smiling, has dog by tail, and is dragging it.)

“Wah!” cried Goog. “Mumma, where puppy go?”
(Goog crying, pointing to Cerberus running away. Big HOORAY! from villagers, who are all rushing to thank Goog.)

“Not so fast!” Martha said. “First apologise to my little girl!”
(Mum marching towards mob, sleeves rolled up, wagging finger at them angrily. Mob are all on the back foot!)

It took little time for Goog to settle back in.
People were friendlier this time.
(Goog even bigger now, in dam with kids, playing. Mum sitting contently on chair)

When she was old enough, she even went to school.
(Goog, now two stories tall, putting confused finger to mouth, while teacher is up on long ladder, pointing to a maths problem on a board being held up by a balloon.)

And learned to knit.
(Goog, concentrating hard, big fingers operating very small needles and woollen thread. Mum beside her, content, knitting a scarf that is 20 feet long.)

Eventually, she got a boyfriend.
(Goog holding hand of boy 5 x smaller than her. Parents holding back Mum, who is trying to hit him with her broom.)

And Mum met a wizard.
(Mum, clasping her hands, acting happy/shy, standing on top of magic owl, making eyes at magician on flying carpet. Goog’s now 13 year old face below, looking up at them.)

And when Goog was old enough, and ready enough, she had a child…
(Mum, older now, pointing furiously to medieval hospital, while villagers carry very pregnant, straining Goog.)

That was only as big as a thimble.
(Tiny baby child sitting on Goog’s massive fingertip.)

And, this time, no-one judged it one bit!
(Goog, happy, throwing tiny, laughing baby in air. Mum, standing behind boyfriend with rolling pin as boyfriend does the laundry in a bucket.)

 

 

The End

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.