Jack’s Promise

The beanstalk above Jack’s head swayed as it reached for the vexed clouds. Snow circled him looking for an opening to attack his nose and ears. There was no time to stop, but his vision had begun to get blurry. Jack's chest stung as if a weight was crushing his lungs. His breaths came in ragged gasps, scraping at his ears.

The town healer had told him he was cursed at birth to be short of breath by some sort of evil spirit. Jack cursed his… well––Curse, for it not only prohibited him from climbing down this horrid beanstalk any faster than a duckling, but it had hurt his family’s farm when Father had died as Jack couldn't take on his father’s duties properly. His household––at the moment miles to the ground––was put into chaos and Mother could not afford the farm anymore.

“Fee-fi-fo-fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman.”

The beanstalk tremored like a skybound earthquake.

The giant had found him.

“Be he alive, or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread!”

Jack rubbed his chest and adjusted the golden harp slung over his shoulder. He took a hold of the leaf’s stem that provided him rest, hoping his chest wouldn't give out.

The mischievous snow flew around him, slicking up the vines and leaves, hoping to see him fall. The Giant was the slowest being he'd ever seen, but if he caught up with Jack…

He didn't want to think about what would happen.

He braced his foot in some vines as a wave of coughs hit him. He gasped for air, but the coughs shook his body and he wasn't able to do much good.

“Agh!” Jack slid down the slick trunk and over the miniature world below. Black spots danced in his vision and he fell onto a giant leaf. He laid there, wheezing with his eyes closed neary consumed by his panic.

His bag.

Jack’s eyes flew open.

Where were the––gah!

A gust of wind pushed the leaf over.

“No!” making a grab for the treasures, he clasped the harp but the sack slid through his fingers. His clenched teeth tightened as his sack of treasure and the golden goose plummeted to the ground.

Thud

Jack winced. No way the goose survived that.

The giant roared, and even the earth cowered from the sound.

Jack could hardly breathe anymore. His soaked hair stuck to his face as he climbed––or rather fought not to slip to his death.

Jack’s feet finally hit solid earth just as the snow thickened into a blanket covering the air. He ran on the slick grass, splattering mud and snow on his trousers, to the shabby home that held his childhood.

“Mother!” He protested against his burning lungs, “Mother!”

A thin woman came from the door, “Jack?!”

She ran across the field and buried him in her arms.

A moment not long enough he stood gasping in her warm embrace, then he had to push her away. “Mother, there's no time! Run away––far as you can! Now!”

His mother stared at him. Jack grabbed her shoulders.

“Please, Mother!”

“Be careful, Jack. your breathing––”

“I know. I’ll be fine.”

“I-I am so proud of you, Jack I–” her voice broke.

“I love you too, Mother. Please, you need to go!”

She nodded, eyes shining, and turned running into the storm.

Jack bent over and coughed into the mud. Why did his lungs feel like they were tied into knots? As fast as his wobbly knees would allow, he ran to the shed.

An old ax slouched in the corner. Jack breathed in the smell of mildew, leaning on the crumbling walls. He set down the harp made from the gold that fell from the stars. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he caressed the silky strings. When he plucked one the note pierced the blasting wind. The harp spread a strange, buttery heat through the room.

“Magic harp made from gold, strengthen this ax; enchant it to hold.” Jack plucked a few notes and hoped it did the trick.

The ax was thrown over his shoulder, and he stumbled outside. The giant had climbed two thirds of the way down. Jack grit his teeth and walked faster, clutching his chest.

This had to work.

Flakes of snow stuck to the long grass that tried to grab Jack’s bare feet. Stay back, The wind howled.

He patted the huge trunk of the beanstalk. He would sacrifice everything if he had to to keep his promise. Jack fought his lungs to raise his ax in line with the giant a few miles above. Then he lowered it, closing one eye, to be in line with where his mother was running.

She was much too close. He stepped around the stalk for a few paces, then lined up his ax again. Perfect––Mother would be safe.

He braced his feet on the ground, raising his ax to the heavens.

This was it.

Chop.

The sound echoed through the air, making the whole stalk sway. Jack closed one eye and looked at his cut. The plant bled sap everywhere––but the cut was true. The deep gash ran diagonal into the plant. His ax then swung upward and created a sideways V with the cuts.

Wiping sap on his pants he ran around to the other side and planted his feet in the snow. Raising his ax he––

A wave of coughs hit and his vision swam. Lungs burning, he fell to his knees, water and mud seeping into the front of his trousers. The view on the ground faded leaving only black silhouettes.

No––he couldn't die! Not now…

His mother––he struggled to find any oxygen––The giant––

When the coughs finally subsided, he collapsed to the ground accepting any sliver of air he could get through the rasps in his lungs.

It–It was over. He’d pushed his limit too far.

His body was…done.

Jack didn't have the breath to sob but tears dripped down his face as silently as they could. Oh how his luck cheated him. Found treasure beyond imagination––just to suffocate on his own lungs. What rotten luck.

He tried to clench his trembling hands.

His promise, too, would die with him.

His head filled with cotton, putting weight on the exhaustion sitting on his eyelids. He couldn't fight any longer. He was going to breath his last breath as he always was––weak.

The word echoed in his mind until he felt sick to his stomach.

No.

He wasn't going to die like this.

He struggled to push his arms under him, only to have the mud pull him back down.

His hand fell on the enchanted ax.

Gritting his teeth, Jack's trembling body pulled him to his knees. Using the ax he could barely lift to push himself up, he was able to prop himself on tremulous legs.

Vision almost black, he hefted the tool––though he knew where to swing.

Using the last of his adrenaline and strength he didn't own, he hurled the blade at the beanstalk. The sound was even louder this time, accompanied by scraping.

The giant gave an ear-ringing bellow, and there was a crack that shook the earth.

The beanstalk fell.

The world quieted just as suddenly as the chaos had begun.

That was it then; The giant was dead.

Jack's body racked with shivers and he sank back to the ground. It took too much strength to keep his body running without air.

At–at least Mother would be safe. Safe and happy with–

He tried to squeeze air in his lungs but there was no more left.

His vision went white and black; the earth reclaimed him.

* * *

The wind pushed the smell of rain through the graveyard. The buttery morning light softened in reverence, shining on the small place of the lost. Bells rung, singing a soft song to those visiting the churchyard.

Jack knelt in front of a humble stone, clutching purple wildflowers. He breathed in the air sweet as morning dew.

Jack had thought for sure he was dead on that day only a week ago. He smiled, blinking back the sting in his eyes. How good was it to be alive! To enjoy something as simple as breath!

“Father, I've done what you asked.” He ran his fingers over the grave, “You don’t have to worry, Mother is in good hands.”

Jack's hands felt more sure and strong than ever, despite the days he had only just escaped from resting in bed.

“Jack!” Mother was dressed as the color of sunlight and honeydew, “It's time to go!”

Jack smiled, resting the flowers on the stone. “Coming Mother!”