Part 1: Adjustment
When Agatha and I finally let each other go, I asked her again, “What happened?”
“You can’t remember?”
I shook my head. “All I can remember is waking up in the middle of the forest.”
“Do you remember that we were about to go to the hamlet?”
“No.”
She frowned. “Do you remember what you were doing today?”
“No… Sorry.”
“It’s okay. A giant... he hit you hard. We should just be thankful that you're still alive.”
“A giant hit me?” I said with unfeigned surprise.
“I’ll tell you from the beginning. We were planting the last of the crops today. The field hands were almost done and you, Andrew, and your father had come back from the woods, so we were about to get ready to head to the hamlet and celebrate.”
From there, she gave me a summary of the incident with the giants and what happened after. Compared to the chapter you just read, her explanation was pretty stripped down, but the most important detail of everyone else being dead was not lost in her retelling.
“And that’s when you came.” She embraced me again as she finished her retelling. “Seeing you brought me back to life.”
I didn’t say anything to that, just gripped her forearm gently.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” At the moment, I was staring at the hole the giants had punched through the old Jack’s room. Glaring really.
Those bags that the giants were carrying, they’d stuffed his siblings in there too, didn’t they? The rage I felt thinking about that and the animosity that I felt earlier weren’t just something inherited anymore.
Once Agatha let me go, I walked over to take a look at Grant’s corpse. One look at his face made me lose the strength in my legs.
“Woah, careful.” Agatha said. As exhausted as she was, she still managed to catch me. “It’s just like I thought. You really aren’t fine are you? You can’t be after the giant hit you like that.”
“I am fine.” I got my footing right again. “It’s just that this is a lot to handle.”
“Well, either way we should head inside and get you something to eat. You haven’t eaten anything since you went into the woods with your father and Andrew. A lot’s happened since then. You need to get something in your stomach.”
“Alright.”
We walked past the destruction still littering the yard, into the house, and then into the kitchen. The meat pies Agatha had made were still laid out on the table where she had left them. We used a bucket to wash our hands and I took a seat while she poured me a cup of water.
“Thanks.” I said. She showed me a weak smile in response. I picked up a pie with my left hand, but it felt a bit odd, so I switched it to my right. Either the other Jack was right handed or he preferred to eat his pie with his right.
The pie itself was really good. Some of the best these taste buds ever had. Just a shame that it had cooled down so much. The well water was pretty good too. Did a lot to help wash things down as I demolished my pie and man, I didn’t realize how thirsty I was until I’d finally had a chance to drink something. I finished my first cup before I finished my pie.
Agatha poured me another cup.
“Shouldn’t you be eating too?” I asked.
“I’m fine. I don’t feel much like eating right now.”
“Mom,” gag, “Come on. You need something to eat as bad as I do right now.”
“It’s fine, Jack.”
“It’s not.” I raised my voice a bit. “You’re all I have left. I need you to take care of yourself.”
Agatha took a breath and then said okay. After pouring herself a cup and refilling mine, she sat down next to me. She barely ate anything and what she did eat, it looked like she had forced herself to.
I really pitied her. I wasn’t even getting the full experience of her son’s emotions and I’d almost collapsed seeing his father laid out on the grass. I could only imagine what she was going through.
After making her valiant attempt at a third of her pie, she told me that we should head over to the hamlet and tell them what happened.
“The count’s too far,” she said, “So we’ll just tell Mr. Edward and the others and let the baron handle the rest.”
“But what if the giants attacked them too?” I asked.
Hearing that, Agatha paused for a few seconds. I don’t think it was for thought. “Then we’ll have to go to Milaway ourselves.” She said. “But if they’re fine, we can let them pass on the news for us.”
“Sounds good.”
“If anyone asks you what happened, one of the giants knocked your head and you fainted in the yard, okay? Don’t tell anyone that one of them sent you over the trees.”
“Okay.” That sounded good to me. I wasn’t exactly eager to explain to people how I’d miraculously taken a straight kick from a giant and come out unscathed. It may have just been my ignorance, but it didn’t seem like that was all too normal around here. Honestly, I was surprised that Agatha had been so willing to accept that that was the case after she’d told me what had happened.
It was also good that Agatha was taking the lead right now. There was a lot I still needed to learn about my new world, so I was more than happy to let her make the decisions until I had more context.
Once I finished up my second pie, it was up and out of the house for us. We took the one road leading out of the clearing and took the route going east when our path connected to another road. We weren’t walking for long after that before we met someone along the way.
“Agatha, Jack.” The recognizable stranger said.
“Mr. Malcolm.” Agatha named him.
“It’s good to see you two are okay.” He said, jogging up to us.
“We’re happy to see you’re fine as well.” Agatha said.
Mr. Malcolm turned towards the woods. “Emmett, Bart, come out here!”
About half a minute later, two more familiar faces stepped out from the forest onto the road. We traded pleasantries with the both of them.
“We were coming over to warn you and the others that there were giants in the forest.” Mr. Malcolm said, after our greetings. He gave a quick eye to my filthy clothes and Agatha’s bloodied ones. “But from the looks of it, you two already know?”
“Yes,” Agatha said, “We were coming over to the hamlet to warn you all about them as well. Is everyone over there still okay?”
“Thankfully, yes. Everyone is fine. They took most of the livestock and the grain, but no one got hurt. How about on your side?”
“A fight broke out when they tried to take Jane and Timothy. As far as we know, we’re the only two who survived.”
Bart swore and all three men made their disappointment clear.
“Were the giants still there when you left?” Emmett asked.
“No, they’ve been gone for a while now.” Agatha said.
“That’s good.” Mr. Malcolm said. “Hopefully, they stay gone. Did they do anything with the bodies?”
“Some of them are missing, but they left most of them in the yard. I was hoping we could get some help dealing with them.”
“Of course.” Mr .Macolm nodded. “We’ll head back to the hamlet to get some others and a cart. Do you two want to come with us?”
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“We’d just end up having to come back, won’t we?”
“Well, you could stay there if you’d like. We’d just need Jack to come with us so we can make sure we don’t miss anything.”
“It’s fine.” Agatha said. “We’ll just wait for you back at our house.”
For that decision, I thanked her in my mind. I didn’t think I was up for talking to any of these guys by myself yet.
“Okay,” Mr. Malcolm said, “Then we’ll see you there.”
We said our goodbyes and the three men headed back to the hamlet while we headed back to the clearing. After taking a moment to rest once we arrived, Agatha had me help her bring up enough water from the well for us to bathe in and then she got me started on splitting logs to heat it.
While I was splitting the wood, she went inside to take a stock of what we had left to eat after most everything was given to the giants. I finished chopping just enough for one of us to take a bath when ten men from the hamlet came rolling carts into the clearing.
After another round of greetings, Mr. Malcolm asked me if I could get my mother from inside.
“Sure.” I said, heading off to fetch her.
“Mr. Edward asked me to ask you two if you could write down a testimony of the happenings on your property today for him.” Mr. Malcolm told us once we got back outside.
“I’m afraid Jack can’t give a testimony.” Agatha said.
Mr. Malcolm looked confused. “Why’s that?”
“One of the giants knocked his head and he passed out in the yard.”
“Can’t remember a thing.” I added.
“Well, you’re lucky you’re still alive then.” Mr. Malcolm said.
It was definitely more than luck, I thought.
Agatha was quick to change the subject. “By the way, the only bodies we’ve seen are the ones out in the yard. There isn’t anyone in the house and I don’t think there’s anyone buried under the barn either.” She pointed to the caved in barn.
“Got it.” Mr. Malcolm said.
“Is there anything else Mr. Edward needs us to do?” Agatha asked.
“He asked if you’d be willing to provide the wood for the funeral pyre.”
“Take as much as you need.”
“Thank you, Agatha.”
“Anything else?” She asked.
Mr. Malcolm shook his head. “Nothing that he’s told me.”
“Then I’ll get right to writing that testimony for him then.” She said, before rushing back into the house.
Thinking that I was going to be helping everyone load the bodies and the wood I started toward the carts. Mr. Malcolm stopped me just a few feet along the way, said I had enough to clean up already around the property, and then sent me up stairs with Bart and Emmett to clear out the debris from my room. After throwing everything that was broken out the giant hole in the wall, we put a tarp over it to help keep the wing out until Agatha and I could get it fixed.
By the time we got back down stairs, all the bodies and their belongings had been loaded into the carts and the other men were finishing up putting the wood in the carts as well. Once Agatha had completed writing her testimony it was already time for the men to go.
“Thank you for helping us.” Agatha said, coming out to give Mr. Malcolm her testimony. “I made some meat pies this morning if anyone is hungry or wants to bring one home.” A few of the men took her up on her offer.
“We’ll have everything set up for the funeral by the morning.” Mr. Malcolm told us as they were about to head off.
“Oh.” Before they could do so, I untied the dead field hand’s bean pouch from my belt. “I found this pouch of beans sitting out in the yard. Do you know whose it is?”
Mr. Malcolm looked over his shoulder and Bart stepped up. “That’s Nathan’s I think.” Bart said. “He was joking with me the other day that he was going to get you to plant him some magic beans for him before you left.”
Magic beans. Even with the somber mood I was in, hearing those words got me a little excited. But the rest of what he said had me confused. “Why me?” I asked.
“Heh. Well, you’re a Jack aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,” I tried to play off my question, but it came off awkward. “Right.”
Bart gave me a weird look. “Anyways, you should just keep them. Plant them for yourself and who knows, might get lucky and they’ll turn out to be the real thing. You’ll at least still get something to eat out of it if they aren’t.”
Hmm. It wasn’t enough information, but I didn’t have enough room to ask more. “I’ll give it a try.” I said. “Thanks, Bart.”
“See you at the funeral.” He waved as he walked away.
“See you.”
The other men gave their goodbyes as well and then they went on their way out the clearing. I went straight back to my work chopping wood, but Agatha approached me after the villagers were a few minutes gone.
“Jack.” She said.
“Yeah?” I turned around and she grasped my face.
“I thought you said that you were fine earlier?”
“I am.”
“Then why were you acting strange when you were talking to Bart.”
“How was I acting strange?”
“It sounded like you didn’t know why someone would want you to plant beans for them.”
Yeah, I was really hoping that wasn’t the strange part she was talking about. “Because my name is Jack?” I said.
“And can you remember why you being a Jack matters?”
“Uh...” Oh boy, I thought.
“You see? You forgot, didn't you?”
“Yes,” I begrudgingly admitted. “I forgot.”
“And what else did you forget?” She asked.
“I’m not really sure.” I lied.
“Do you remember what you did yesterday?”
“Chop wood?”
“And what else? What did you have to eat?”
I didn’t say anything.
She kept pushing. “You can’t remember what I made for you yesterday?”
There was nothing I could say.
Agatha sighed. “Do you at least remember where the hamlet is?”
“Down the road.”
“Where down the road?”
“...I don’t know.” I admitted. Passed what I had read on the page and what she and the other had spoken about, I didn’t know anything.
“What about the names of the men who came here to take the bodies?” Agatha asked.
“I remember them.” Clarification, I remembered some of them.
“So if I brought them all back here would you be able to point to them and tell me all their names?”
I sighed. “No.”
“Just the ones you talked to most, right?”
“Yes.”
I could hear the sorrow in her voice. “Can you even remember what you wanted to do, Jack? Where you wanted to go? Goodness, I wanted you to stay, but not like this.”
‘I’m sorry’ was all I could say. Which was exactly why I didn’t want to tell her how bad my memory loss was. She was already going through enough and now she was already on the verge of tears again.
I ached for her. What was left of her son ached for her.
“Are your brothers and sister just names to you now?” She asked.
That one was too much to bear. I grabbed her wrist, looked her straight in the eyes and told her, “No. I’d never forget them and I’ll never forget my family. Andrew, Jane, Timothy and dad.”
“What’s your father’s name?”
“Grant.” I said. I had his name along with a few more memorized from the page. “And I remember Ben, Matthew, and Hailee too.” According to the page, they were old Jack’s closest friends. That should've meant something, but judging by her downcast gaze, it wasn’t convincing to Agatha at all. Maybe she thought I’d talk to Emmett or Bart about them?
What else? What else? I thought. “Ugh, I even remember the cat.”
There was a pause.
I kept racking my brain, but after a couple seconds, Agatha let slip a bit of a chuckle. “You forget everything else, but you remember the cat?” She asked, wiping a tear from her eye.
“I didn’t forget everything,” I said, “Only forgot most everything. I still remember what’s most important, though.”
Agatha sighed. “I guess that’s enough for now. Today’s taken a lot out of me, so I’ll take my bath first and call it a day.”
“Okay.”
“Do you think you can handle burning the clothes?”
“Yeah, Mom.”
“Thank you.” She gave me a kiss on my cheek.
I showed her a smile as she left, then got back to work. It was already getting late in the afternoon, so I was lucky to be able to hop into the tub with our clothes burning over to the side by about twilight. I even managed to plant the half of the maybe magic beans from the pouch that weren’t smashed.
With a sigh, I sank into my bath and just sat there relaxing for a few minutes after a hard day's work. Before today, I’d never chopped wood, climbed to the top of a tree, or chucked debris out of a building, yet it had all felt like second nature to me. And already, when I thought about my life before today it was feeling like a dream. A beautiful dream, one I’d love to go back to, but a dream still.
Honestly, if I didn’t have the page to confirm the soul transfer, I might have just thought I had inherited someone else’s memory. It kind of felt like I was remembering a tv show that I had really connected with when I remembered earth. I guess that’s what happens when you slot in the memories, but keep the brain and the body the same.
After giving myself a good scrub down, I got out of the tub, put on my clothes, and cleaned up. Once that was done, I went to the kitchen. Agatha had put most of the meat pies away before she went to bed, but she’d left one out for me to have for dinner.
I obliterated the pie and then headed to the guest room. Despite the tarp covering it, there was still a giant hole very much present in one of my room’s walls letting cool air in. Unless that was fixed, I wouldn’t be moving back in there anytime soon.
When I stepped into the guest room, I closed the door behind me and took out my page. It was time for an experiment.
I brought out one of those greased up pieces of grass they called a rushlight so I could read it in the dark, but to my surprise, the paper was as clear at night as it had been during the day.
Even though the room was dark now, the light the page was—or perhaps wasn’t—emitting wasn’t hurting my eyes. The perks of magic, I suppose.
I let myself fall backwards onto the room’s bed and held up my page in front of me. Immediately, I had the page send the Stories section to the top and hide everything else. When I expanded the story, just like when I’d read it earlier in the forest, it listed only one entry.
Jack and the Beanstalk: A retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk taking inspiration from Jack and the Beanstalk while also being influenced by Jack and the Beanstalk. [Current]
But was that really just one entry for Jack and the Beanstalk or was it really three? Why was the ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’ in ‘A retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk’ not in bold, but the other two uses of it in the description were?
I put my focus on the version of Jack and the Beanstalk that inspired my own and… jackpot.
A story expanded upon my page, filling everything, but the margins. At top of the page sat the title, Jack and the Beanstalk.
I smiled, well aware that there would be plenty of studying I’d be doing that night.