The sun's rays of the morning didn't jolt me awake, but the biting cold that pierced beneath the thin layers of my quilt forced the sleep to expel me from my body. I rubbed cold arms with frigid hands as I noticed the entire room encased like that of an ice cavern. Instead of fighting with myself to go back to sleep, confusion struck me as I took in my surroundings wondering where the hell we were right now.
Oh right, Casey and I were adopted by a family we knew next to nothing about. Great.
My warm, bare feet met frozen wood as I strolled over to the window to check if it was left open overnight. Maybe my brother opened it because he probably got hot or it wasn't closed to begin with.
But it was neither. The window was locked shut.
I glanced over to Casey who slept in a tight fetal position, unconsciously shivering. There weren't many blankets, to begin with, so I used mine, which barely provided me with ample warmth as I slept and covered him with it. I spotted one of my bags and began my search for a long-sleeved shirt and old hoodie to wear that should keep my temperature up.
After my morning hygiene, I descended the stairs and made my way over to the kitchen that I completely forgot was empty. It won't be long until Casey follows suit, and he gets hungry as well.
Looks like I need to call Sheriff Rusty and see if we can go to the diner I saw not too far when we drove here. Maybe that's the same place that he got our burgers from. It didn't seem too far so I'll ask for permission if I can walk and get us some food. I strolled up to the phone, heard the familiar dial tone pressed against my ear, and got ready to call him when I realized that I didn't have his phone number. I scoffed and frowned at that realization, but I had to think of something.
How was I supposed to call him? I can't place a 911 call for food delivery, can I? Nah, that could get me in get in trouble, even if it was for good intentions.
The dial tone continued to buzz in my ear and my eyes scanned the table to find a piece of paper with numbers on it. My nerves instantly spiked, and it made my spine rigid when I realized who the phone number belonged to.
The ominous voice that rivaled the sound of thunder. I shivered.
I swallowed a sizable lump in my throat, feeling the protest from my stomach that it hadn't received food. It's pretty early out, and I'd rather not bother him just because we wanted to have breakfast. I rubbed the back of my head, unsure if I should call him. What if he isn't the morning type? I got a taste of his temper last night, and I sure as hell did not want to deal with that again. Similarly, our last foster family told us to never wake them up earlier than noon. If we were hungry, we had to go out and get food for ourselves. Which we did a lot of the time.
He could very well tell us that same thing.
I grimaced at myself not really wanting to call him but what choice did I have? I was getting hungrier just by thinking about it. I just have to prepare myself for a verbal scolding afterward. Without wasting another second and ignoring the somersaults in my stomach, I dialed the number and waited for a response.
Which, to my surprise, I got immediately after the first ring.
"Hello Mia, Casey?!" he greeted groggily, sounding like he just woke up and sprang out of bed after I heard a lot of shuffling in the background. "Are you both okay? Is everything alright?"
Whoa, he sounds worried...wasn't really prepared for that. Okay, now just stick to making words...
I took a deep breath and collected myself just before speaking, "Uh, g-good morning, Mr. Taylor, sir. Uh, everything is okay here."
"Where's your brother?"
"Casey's still asleep."
I could practically feel each breath from his chest pour through the phone, so much so that it caused his voice to rattle a little bit. "A-are you sure?"
I decided to lighten my tone just to let him know that there wasn't anything to worry about. "Yeah, don't worry we're fine just...hungry." I let out a nervous chuckle.
"Hungry? Wait, what time is it?" Mr. Taylor asked deeply, and I heard more shuffling, "Oh, right it's breakfast time. Sheriff Hudson didn't show up yet?"
My eyes expanded at his response, and I bit my bottom lip. I honestly forgot if we were gonna have food delivered or if Rusty was going to take us to a diner.
"Mr. Taylor, is Sheriff Rusty coming here to take us—?"
"No." He cut in sternly.
Alright then, consider his decision final.
His voice alone rumbled into my ears and reverberated down to my feet as if he was standing over me. I assumed he was just gifted, but for someone to possess a voice that deep, I'd hate to be the one idiot person to get on his bad side.
My attention was pulled away from my musings when I heard him clear his throat. "It's kinda early but I'll call him and ask to stop by around 7:30 to deliver your breakfast."
"Oh, uh, okay..."
"Are you hungry now?"
"Uh, n-no!" I could feel my words about to stumble out of my mouth like last night, "We-I was just wondering. We can wait, i-it's no hurry at all." I looked at the clock on the microwave reading 7:07 a.m., and added quickly, "Really sorry for waking you up, sir. I'll talk to you later, bye—"
"Hold on, Mia." He called through suddenly but calmly.
I was about to hang up the phone when I heard him and immediately pressed the receiver back to my ear. That would've been really bad and not the impression I wanted to leave him before we actually met.
"Please, sweetie, don't be sorry about anything like that and please, don't call me sir. I'm your new father, remember? I want to make sure you're being taken care of, okay?"
I didn't reply, I wasn't too sure how to. To be honest, my brother and I were never really given this kind of kindness before so part of me thought this was still some ruse.
"I appreciate you calling and telling me. I know now that you guys are early birds." He continued, and let out a yawn, "Did you sleep well?"
I smiled at his question, and relaxed at his tone of voice, "Uh, yeah it was just cold in our room this morning but weirdly coming downstairs, it's actually comfortable."
There was a pause over the phone and for a moment I thought that he had fallen back asleep or, once again, my intrusive thoughts believed that I had said something to piss him off. I honestly have to work on that.
"Odd," he muttered. "Were all the windows closed upstairs? The sheriff should've checked that and the thermostat as well before leaving last night."
"Uhm, he said he was going to check things around the house." I answered truthfully, "I think as he was leaving, he did all that stuff."
"I'll have him check again."
"Okay, cool. Sounds good." I agreed.
"Do you guys feel sick? Do you feel feverish? Stuffy nose?" Mr. Taylor asked, concern lacing his voice. "If you're ill at all, let me know please."
Wow, I don't think I've ever had any foster parent pitch rapid-fire questions about our well-being. It was just so foreign to me that he wanted us to be comfortable and well taken care of. My reservations are still present but in this simple conversation, Mr. Taylor had proved to be a protective and caring father figure. I'm sure he finds this situation frustrating since he can't come and see us for whatever reason, but he is doing what he can with what he has.
Maybe once we meet them in person, he can provide us with some answers as to why he or our mom couldn't be here.
"I'll let you go so you can wake your brother up for breakfast, okay—"
"Wait! I have a question—!" I blurted out, suddenly becoming shy again. I honestly don't know where that came from. I mean, it couldn't hurt to get more information now that I have him on the phone.
"If you don't mind me asking..."
"Don't be afraid," he urged encouragingly. "Ask me anything."
When I hear him speak that way, the comfort in his voice feels as if it's wrapping me protectively, as if he was standing next to me the entire time, holding me as if everything was going to be alright. It felt like something familiar I had once before, but I've since forgotten because it's been so long.
"Umm," I rubbed the back of my neck with a free hand. "I-I was told that giants live near us? Did you know that? Uh, what should we do if a giant gets close to the house?" I hope he doesn't yell at Rusty for telling us about giants roaming around us; I don't want him to get in trouble.
Another brief pause hung over us but was immediately broken when I heard a deep sigh coming through my ear.
"Of course, I knew." He admitted, hinting irritation in his tone. "That's why I told you and your brother to always stay inside the house. Giants are curious by nature and are often unpredictable, especially their children. They don't mean to be dangerous, but to humans, they can be if not careful, and I don't want to risk you being exposed out in the open so they can see you."
I guess I should heed his warning more now that I kinda know what's going on. It briefly stung that he wasn't the one who told us about giants and maybe he has his reasons for omitting that information from us. After all, I know I didn't take it lightly when the sheriff told me, I wonder how Mr. Taylor reacted when he found out.
To see beings that can reach up and touch the atmospheres above so easily, pluck you off the ground and crush you like nothing, did wrack fear in me. Imagine meeting a giant in person and you needed to run away, but you couldn't because you were bounded somehow, unable to move or cry, and even hearing other people screaming in the distance...all while you were at the mercy of a giant towering over you.
Holding you in their grasp...
Wait.
Something nipped inside my mind bringing it to the surface...was this a memory? I think I've been in that situation...with my biological family and a giant was involved...was I little when it happened? Why don't I remember specifics?
"Mr. Taylor?" I didn't realize my mouth had opened to speak, "Have you ever met one? A giant?"
He didn't take long to answer, which surprised me. "Yes, I have. I—know a few of them."
My eyes expanded at that. Whoa, this guy's ballsy.
"Are they scary, like in the fairy tales?" I meekly broached, pressing myself against the wall parallel to the table, and slid down to the floor.
"Oh please, don't read into those things." He said dryly. "There's so inaccurate it's pretty much called folklore. And they're only scary to humans because of their size."
Out of habit, I started knawing on my fingernail, "Giants don't eat people or make them into bread or something?"
I can practically picture the disgust on his face based on the way he answered, "That's disgusting. It's basically the textbook definition of cannibalism—! Who would eat—Ugh, I hated hearing that growing up. But no, w—they don't eat humans. Ever."
Something's off like his answers are getting stranger, but for some reason, it's still keeping me engaged in this subject. His experience with these giants is fascinating and all but for now, I'm more content that I'm talking to my future father, especially for this long. I wanted to keep him on the line for as long as I could, so I decided to ask another question.
"It must be scary to see giants up close. What're they like?"
"The ones I'm thinking of..." He started to explain but paused for just a moment, "are the kindest and most loving people you'll ever meet. And will always treat you like family no matter what, even if they are much bigger than you, they will never look down at you."
"That's funny considering that they're huge and all." I casually remarked.
"You know what I mean."
"How did you get over it?" I asked, wanting to know more, "I mean like, dealing with their size and all?"
"I imagine it wouldn't be a simple process at first," He stated casually, "It just takes time to get to know u—them. Anyway, sweetie, I gotta get ready to go to work. We can talk tonight with your mom if you want."
My eyebrows shot up after hearing that last thing he said, and it sounded weird. He's a human man, why would he imagine that meeting a giant in person would not be easy? It's not easy to do; it's downright terrifying to see a giant up close!
Just as I was about to continue, I jumped when I heard a knock on the door and an announcement from a familiar raspy voice.
"Is that the sheriff knocking?"
Whoa, good hearing.
"Wow look at that, breakfast is here," I commented absentmindedly.
"Okay sweetie, you kids enjoy. I'll call you later just to check in. I love you, Mia."
-----
The sheriff couldn't stay long when he dropped off our breakfast and I got him up to speed on the conversation with Mr. Taylor. He stayed a little to eat something quick with us and then he'd be on his way. My brother shortly joined us after, probably smelling the food that was brought in, which was a lot.
In the short moment with us, we exchanged a little bit of conversation, getting more acquainted with one another.
"Hey Missy," I heard the Sheriff address me as he poured us a glass of orange juice each. "Here's some info I just learned myself..."
Mid-chew I looked up at him and threw an odd look.
"Seems like your dad's a politician," Sheriff Rusty explained, "specifically a Regional Representative for his district. 'Splains why he talks the way he does. And your mom's a professional ballroom dancer."
I ignored the slight choking sound my brother made and instead focused on the information given to us. I didn't think someone like Mr. Taylor would hold a high position like that. I mean, now that I think about it, he sounded very authoritative; it was only fitting that he held a political position and must hold a lot of power.
Makes the guy that more daunting, if you ask me.
"What's a politician?" Casey asked, digging into his scrambled eggs.
Sheriff Rusty tried to clear his throat, perhaps to give him some time to formulate an explanation that was acceptable for a ten-year-old kid.
"Uhh, think of a politician like a really important and popular grown-up who follows set rules and has to make a lot of decisions to help a lot of people. At least that's the way I think it is."
Not bad, I nodded, grabbing a forkful of omelet. I guess I learned something new myself.
Later, the sheriff reminded us again not to leave the house and that if we needed anything to reach out to him directly, thank the gods he gave us his direct number to his office. He says that he has two deputies patrolling so he'll be in the office handling paperwork.
Before leaving, he went back out to his squad car and came back with a lot of stuff. Toys, a new game system, boys' clothes, hygiene and cleaning products for the both of us, etc. I watched Casey's eyes beam when Rusty brought in several brand-new coloring books complete with stencils, a thick sketchbook, a huge pack of crayons and beginners' paintbrushes, and an easel.
What he brought for me was eye-opening too, I'd never seen anything like this from anyone from any foster home we've been in. Bags of brand-new clothes, tops, pants, shorts, shoes. Boxes of DVDs from shows I never finished watching; the Harry Potter book series I never finished reading. Nail kits with varying colors and spa baskets. I think I felt my mouth gape at all that because I was in utter shock.
"Ya can thank your mother for providin' all this for ya'll." Rusty brought the last bag into the living room, wiping some sweat off his aging face. "Your dad gave this to me last night and—"
"What?! You saw him?!" I exclaimed although I felt bad when he jumped at my outburst.
"What's he like, Mr. Rusty?" Casey chimed in dropping the game system box.
"Crud." He muttered, "Guess the cat's outta the bag, but yeah, I met him last night before going home and he wanted me to make sure you guys get everythin' ya needed."
"But why couldn't he come here?" my brother complained.
"Remember they need their permits, son, but I know they're dyin' to see ya'll when they can, okay? Just be patient." He reached down and patted his head as if that was going to help.
I just rolled my eyes. It's still really suspicious, but whatever. I suppose we're just gonna have to wait until they arrive here.
Once all of our new stuff came in, the Sheriff took his leave remarking that he would be back around noon to bring us our lunch and other things to have around to munch on. Casey and I watched as Rusty climbed back in his cruiser and drove off, leaving us to look at one another excitedly and went to dig into our new gifts from the Taylors.
----
It was almost noon and the sun decided to become a lot hotter than usual. According to Rusty, he made sure the windows were closed but did feel a draft coming from the roof. He's not sure but will bring it up when he speaks to Mr. Taylor.
It was a good thing that there were two small fans installed in the living room for us to use to keep cool as well as a refrigerator with a built-in icemaker and water dispenser.
Casey was busy with his new game system with his eyes trained on the screen moving the character from one place to another.
I occupied myself with the nail kits and tried various colors on my hands to see which one I liked the most. I have to admit that this was surprising, and I can't help but think of a way to repay them.
Our solitude was shattered when a sudden impact broke the ground next to the house sending a shockwave throughout the interior, inciting a scream from Casey and jolting me up and out of the dining room chair, knocking the wood over.
Alarmed, I ran to the living room window where I heard the impact occur the loudest and my stomach dropped to the floor when I noticed that just a few feet away from the front yard, a giant red ball rolled through the hot pavement. My uneasy gaze shifted to the right and I saw a small crater break the weak and dry ground.
We could've been crushed just now.
Then to my horror, more tremors rumbled beneath our feet, and sounds of girlish merriment echoed in the distance. The laughter materialized into two shadows coming toward the house, to us, and showing no signs of slowing down. What were cries of excitement outside, became cries of desperation and horror within the walls.
The hot sun disappeared as the shadows cast over the vulnerable home signaled the looming threat warned by our adopted father. My eyes expanded when one pointed out excitedly, "Look, look a doll house!"
"Casey!" I ordered, pushing myself off the window, "Get inside the closet! Now!"
Casey panicked and threw the controller on the floor when thunderous steps rattled all the contents inside the house. Painted frames and bric-a-brac fell to the floor either shattering or bouncing throughout the room. Furniture shifted from their sturdy positions; the kitchen cabinets and drawers fluttered their doors like frightened flocks trying to hide from imminent danger.
Two giant little girls surrounded the house, eventually getting down on all fours and trying to peer inside to explore the contents within. With my heart pounding inside my chest, I joined my brother's side as I swiftly closed the closet door enough to peep through what was happening outside. Casey clutched at my worn shirt. His cries turned into uncontrollable sobs, trembling to the point where he threatened to wet himself if he hadn't already done so. I couldn't calm him down, at this point he ignored my pleas to him to stop crying for fear of them discovering us.
"How do you open it?" Another announced, knocking a fist onto the roof. I swear it was going to collapse on us.
Giant infantile fingernails scratched about the surface paint and glass windows, leaving smudges of dust and sweat as they tried to figure out how to open the house. Watching them surged the anxiety within me, webbing at my throat, trapping my protests, my bemusement, my screams. My nostrils betrayed me by constricting the airflow coming in or out. Panic stripped away at my senses, dancing wildly on my palate, tasting like bile.
"Where's the dolly's?"
A few screams slipped my lips when the house clattered around us as these frustrated giant brats couldn't figure out how to open the house. Their random knocking resembled wrecking balls merely grazing the surface as if taunting us before unleashing their destructive potential and trapping us both in the wreckage. I had to keep my composure for both of us. I needed to protect my little brother's life; he was all I had in this fucked up world! I crushed my eyes shut as I clung to him with all the strength I possessed.
Please, don't take him away from me!
My mind and body begged to sever my consciousness and release me from this horrifying event because all I felt like doing was wanting to pass out. But I couldn't. Not when Casey was strapped next to me, soaking me in tears and snot.
When was this going to end? How long until the house gives up and collapses, allowing these giants to grab us and kill us?
Suddenly, I felt deeper tremors coming towards us; much stronger than the girl giants combined, and just that new presence alone, made everything still.
"Girls, what are you doing?!" A feminine voice erupted above us.
"Mommy, look there's a pretty playhouse here!" The first giant girl replied.
"Yeah, yeah we wanted to play with it but couldn't open it or find the dolly's." The other added.
"That house is not a plaything." I heard their mother chastise them.
Collected whining thundered above followed by a stomp of frustration when we heard shuffling as they were being pulled away. I mustered some courage and instructed Casey to stay inside while I went out to check what happened. My shoulders dropped when I opened the closet door to reveal a mess strewn about everywhere.
The nail polish I carelessly left open splattered the table and floor; most of my brother's toys had been thrown about, now laid broken and unsalvaged; plates and mugs were shattered in the kitchen; the sketchbook became a wrinkled mess and the crayons snapped in half and spilled everywhere and the bags of chips and cookies became nothing but crumbs too small for even the rodents to eat.
"But mom!" I heard them cry in unison.
"Stop it!" She scolded, "You don't want that. You don't know where it's been. Now, let's go home."
Stiffly, I wandered to the living room window, pulled on the curtain, and watched the mother grab both of their hands and lead them away from the house. More protests and whines echoed in the distance as they walked away and disappeared behind the slopes of a dry and hot horizon. As I checked that the coast was clear, I immediately went to find the phone under the console table and dialed the sheriff to come and help us.
You don't know where it's been.
How can such a simple phrase affect me this deeply? I don't know who they were. I couldn't care less! I hated that we were condensed to mere objects like we were playthings. But why, why, did that comment get to me like that?
Is that how giants viewed humans?
No, because Mr. Taylor said that they are:
...the kindest and most loving people you'll ever meet. And will always treat you like family no matter what, even if they are much bigger than you, they will never look down at you.
I ran a clammy hand down my hot face, recalling that conversation. Why is that bothering me now at all times? Again, something about that sounded off but why am I thinking about him when it comes to giants?
I'm in shock, that's all. I'm trying to focus on something because I'm still freaking out and for some reason, my brain is hyper-focused on this conversation as if there was something more I needed to take from it.
How did you get over it?
It wouldn't be a simple process at first...it just takes time to get to know u—them.
No. That wasn't just a Freudian slip. It happens to everyone. Stop reading into things that aren't related by any means, Mia!
Wait...
My eyes expanded at a harsh realization that something was definitely not right and it was at what he said yesterday...
Under any certain circumstance, if you need me, I will not hesitate to be there in fifteen minutes, I don't care about getting a permit to cross the border.
He needed a permit to cross the border, but why if he's human?
They don't need permits...
A gasp escaped my cold, parched lips cracked with a dull sting as I realized the truth unfolding before me.
Given what I've learned so far about giant people living this close, our even weirder situation with the adoption process, the Taylor's clandestine identities, and where we were living, cranked the gears inside my brain aimed me toward one question, or rather, one horrifying revelation:
Has Zachary Taylor, our new dad, been a giant this whole time, and we weren't supposed to know about it?
----
A squad car zipped past the house and less than a minute later I recognized Sheriff Rusty's older car pull up and even with old age, he managed to rush up to the entrance of the house.
"Mia, Casey!" He called out, as he burst through the door, "Where are you?!"
He was caught off guard when Casey and I threw ourselves at him, uncontrollably sobbing, and clinging onto him, terrified of what we had just gone through. I didn't care how pathetic I may have looked at this point, as bitter tears stung my eyes, I buried my face into the sheriff's warm embrace.
Fuck these giants! I never want to see another one again!