Dzhon Makdonald - The Giant Who Came to Our House [story]

It happened on a Sunday long ago, on one of those hot still days in late summer. I was ten that summer, and it was a bad summer for me because of my father. It wasnt that I was ashamed of him. I just felt sort of let down. I think my mother felt the same way, but there wasnt anything we could do about it.

Everything had been fine until my father had gone into partnership with big Ed Wadley. My father had owned the mercantile store in town and Ed Wadley had owned the feed business, and then they went into partnership and made it a big general store called the Wadley and Barret Company.

That Ed Wadley was a big man, with a head getting bald, a red face and small blue eyes. And he had a very loud voice. He kept coming over to our place all the time that summer. He and my father would argue about the business, and Ed seemed to think that every idea my father had was no good at all. And somehow he had started calling my father Shorty.

But before I can tell what happened on that Sunday when the tension between Ed and my father reached its greatest peak, I must tell about the giant.

I had come home from swimming at about three oclock on a July day and found him cleaning out the barn. All my breath left me when I saw him, and I ran into the house. Mother told me that he had come to the house asking for work. She said his name was Harry Sturmer and he had been in a road show over in Cincinnati and it had folded up and somebody had stolen the money he had kept hidden against the times such things happened. She said the name printed on his trunk was Big Tex. He was going to sleep in the barn, and he was going to prune the dead limbs off the apple trees in the orchard behind the house. And I shouldnt stare at him.

After an hour of staring and moving closer as my courage improved, I got close enough to start asking questions. His voice didnt sound the way a giants should. It was thin and kind of rusty sounding. All in all, I guess he was a disappointing sort of giant. Unfinished looking. And nothing fit just right. He was powerful, but slow and awkward and clumsy. His face was long and had a sad look and he sunburned easy.

Every time I asked a question, he had to think over his answer and then he made it short. But I learned he was seven foot four and weighed three hundred and twenty pounds. In the show he wore a cowboy costume with seven-inch heels and a thirty-gallon hat. His work pants and shirt had been made by one of the women in the road show. Hed made his canvas shoes himself. They looked it. He made himself a bed in the barn with straw on the floor and canvas over it.

When my father got home about six oclock, he put the Oakland in the barn and started to trudge toward the house. He had his head down, and I guess he was worrying about the business. I started to run toward him to tell him about the giant, but I didnt make it. My father met the giant right at the comer of the barn. His head snapped up and he made a funny grunt and jumped backward about five feet and landed with his knees bent and his mouth open.

After that frozen moment it was as if his legs took over and carried him a dozen running steps toward the house, making a sort of half circle around Harry. I was saddened to see him run, because it seemed all tied in with the Ed Wadley thing. Then he stopped and stared at Harry for a second or two, and went on into the house at a brisk walk.

When I got inside I heard him saying, Ye gods, Sarah!

Hes really very nice and Sam Horsch has been stone drunk for five weeks so theres a lot to be done around the place, things Billy cant do and you havent got time for. Anyway, its only a dollar a day and his keep, and he says hell get an answer to the letters hes going to write and get another job in his trade.

Have you stopped to think, woman, what a thing like that might eat? How many chickens will he want on Sunday?

I asked him and he told me he doesnt eat as heavy as folks might think. When I gave him his dinner this noon, he said I gave him too much.

Sarah, it unsettles me to have... something like that around the place.

Hes cleaned the barn and pruned half the orchard already. So you go on out and tell him to move along, and give him his dollar and maybe he can find a field to sleep in.

Harry stayed, of course. By the very next day the whole town knew about him. I guess every kid for miles around came over one time or another to stand around and stare at Harry and ask questions. Harry was a slow but careful worker. He spent a lot of time on the yard, inching along on big pads hed made for his knees, taking out the weeds. And he wrote letters. I sneaked out to the mailbox and looked at some of them. He printed the addresses and I could print better. He made backward Ns and Ss. They were to places I never heard of.

I got used to Harry. I got to like him. That was why, when on that awful Sunday when Ed Wadley said that terrible thing, I wanted to cry or kick Ed Wadley or something. And the worst of it was that my father didnt do anything.

It was a Sunday afternoon and my father and mother and Ed Wadley were on the front porch. I was down on the ground below the porch with Davey from down the road, playing mumblety-peg. Mother was sewing. My father and Ed were arguing about some kind of yard goods my father wanted to buy for the store. And Harry was edging the driveway, working about twenty-five feet from the poreh. Though my mother didnt hold with working on Sunday, she let Harry work because he said he would rather than just sit out there by the barn.

Suddenly, in a loud, nasty, laughing voice, Ed Wadley said, Now honestly. Shorty, how much respect am I supposed to have for the business judgment of a man whod hire a freak to take care of the work around his place?

There was a strange silence. The whole afternoon seemed to stop, even the birds. I was close enough to barely hear my mother whisper, That was rude. Ed Wadley. Very rude. Youve hurt his feelings.

I had watched Harry. He paused in the middle of a stroke, arm raised. I hoped hed go up on the porch and grab Ed Wadley and throw him all the way out into the country road. But after being very still, he began to work again.

Ed said, just as loud as before, Nonsense, Sarah. Those freaks havent any feelings, and they have about as much brain power as a moo cow. As I was saying, Shorty, its your job to handle the trade. Ill do the buying and set the policy. That way well get along fine.

And my father didnt do anything. He didnt tell Ed Wadley to get off the place. I felt sick inside. I wanted to make it up to Harry somehow, but there just wasnt any way I could think of.

I didnt want to play any more. I told Davey and he went on home. I went outside and sat for a while under our old maple tree. I had a book and I tried to get so deep in it that I could stop feeling ashamed of the whole family. It must have been an hour later when I heard my father say, Great Scott! He used a tone of voice that made me sit up and come running.

I was glad I ran, because I was in time to see Harry come across the yard. He had put on his whole cowboy costume. A huge, high, dark hat, red neckerchief, fringed buckskin shirt, fringed chaps and big cowboy boots that gleamed in the sun. He had no expression on his face. He moved differently, with a kind of sureness and pride, as if he was the biggest man in the world and knew it. He stopped at the foot of the steps and looked onto the porch. There wasnt enough roof clearance for him to come up, and he had the look of a man who wasnt going to scrunch over.

I thought Id tell you Im leaving tomorrow, Mr. Barret. Im joining a circus in Toledo. I got the word in the mail yesterday. His voice wasnt faint and rusty.

Thats fine, Harry. Splendid! my father said.