Worshiping Giants

“What are you doing today?”

“Whatever pleases me.”

“I'm glad you came over, but I wasn't expecting you today.”

“Neither did I. Would you mind helping me move these,” said Robin to Jack as she placed both hands on the sides of a box.

“I don't” said Jack as he took a sip from his cup. Then he stood, walked a few steps and sat back down next to the desk.

Mildly disappointed, Robin placed the box down, and said, “I can't imagine why I haven't gone outside today.”

She stretched her head and was just able to see out the closed window from her elevated position. Though the blue sky enthralled her, she was frustrated by the distance of the scene outside: the clouds and trees seemed so distant and she wanted to grasp them. She left the boxes piled on the couch and climbed down to the floor. She began to step, step, step; walking from chair, to table, to lamp, eyes never leaving the windowsill.

Unexpectedly tumbling over in one fall, vexed in failure.

“Can't you watch where you're going?” said Jack. On his back he twisted in an effort to right himself, but her flailing sabotaged his attempt, and Robin came out on top, stabilized herself and crawled over him and his protestations.

“Stop it! Get off,” he said.

“I'm getting off,” eyes still on the window, “If you hadn't been in the way.

“Hump,” said Jack, sitting and surveying the room, tracing the path Robin had taken, and absently noting two giants in the room.

Robin, at the sill, both hands holding fast and eyes against the pane, tentatively released one finger and then another, until she could press an open palm upon the glass. The waving leaves in the unfelt wind, and the passing of cars down the street drew her curious gaze. When she looked at the clouds they were different than normal, and it disturbed her.

It all began to recede and she found herself flying through the air, moving to and fro until she came to rest in a seat, Jack beside her. He was eating a bit of pasta with asparagus, while swinging his legs back and forth.

“How was the window?”

She picked at a lump of buttered sweet potato. Irritated by his tone, and a black spot on the tuber she ate a handful of rice instead. When she didn't answer, he continued speaking, attempting topic after topic until she found one worthy of an answer.

“What do you think they are doing?”

“Don't you know,” she said at last, “They serve us as guardians and disciples. They can't speak, but grunt to indicate approval or acceptance.”

“I think they mean something more.”

“Well,” she said, now considering individual grains of rice for consumption, “I mean, mine adores me, but I'm not sure it has more than a rudimentary intelligence. Not that there's anything wrong with that. When I look at it, I appreciate its subservience and accept its adoration as my due.”

Looking at his, the one on the left, and how it towered over him, Jack consider the rough flesh, quite unlike his soft skin. He respected his giant, as one should, and greeted its actions with the appropriate repose. His giant had been with him all his life, and though he wouldn't admit his feeling to Robin, he cared for his dull-witted protector in the way one cares for a puppy. Robin seemed not feel the same affection, which was odd considering she only...

“You only have one right?”

“What!” said Robin in reply.

Jack, enjoying a bit the stress he had placed on her chewed his pasta thoroughly, even though it was quite overcooked, before saying, “You only have one guardian. I've never see another.”

“I could have two, I don't understand why I haven't attracted a second one yet.”

“I've had two as long as I've existed,” said Jack.

“Maybe you have, maybe you haven't. I've known you for an eternity, and I've never seen the other.”

“Could we find a second for you?” said Jack.

There was no food left on her plate. She felt around for scraps but couldn't locate anything worth scrapping off the plastic surface. Trying to ignore Jack's irritating question, she kept searching, but thinking all the time. Should she accept Jack's offer? No. He might embarrass her, and how could she be certain any new giant could preform at the same quality as her solo one. And... no she didn't...

Jack's giant stood, and it was an awe inspiring sight. Both Robin and Jack threw their heads back, their eyes focusing in an attempt to pierce the heights that hid the guardian's head. Then he was away, waving a serene good-bye to Robin in her chair.

Then her giant grunted at her, and she allowed it to carry her to a great sea. There she splashed while the head of the giant blocked the sun from view. It looked liked a solar eclipse, with the hair of the guardian catching the light and flaring like a corona or halo. She turned away to avoid the glare of the light as her giant shifted. Its arms encompassed the ocean, and its head was bent low, no longer in between light and eyes.

It lifted Robin from the water, and wrapped her in great blanket. She yawned, eyes suddenly heavy, and she flew one last time through the kitchen, up the stairs and into bed. A light sound of rain fell upon the roof, and as her giant mumbled a few indistinguishable sounds of comfort, Robin permitted herself to think, I love my guardian.