#pocketed

It wasn’t a moment too soon. His apparent caretaker stooped a moment later to grab the handles on one of the fish coolers he and his companion had filled for their fishing trip, and Isaac groaned from the sudden downward rush. While he gripped the edge of the pocket so hard his hands turned pale, the giant paused. One of his large hands lifted to hover near the pocket. “Sgu bid dryu, nun?”

Before Isaac could ponder the attempt at a soothing tone, the other giant barked from the end of the dock, scowling back with his own cooler in his hands. “Clei!”

The younger giant‒was Clei his name, or was the other giant cussing at him?‒huffed out a sigh. “Me stunt, trufus!” He gave up on Isaac for the moment, roughly grabbing the cooler and heaving it up. With his backpack and fishing poles on his back, Isaac wondered for a second if he would tip backwards.

“Careful, lad,” Isaac cautioned him. Luckily for both of them, though, the giant gained his footing and headed towards the impatient giant waiting just off the dock. The other had a lantern hanging off his much smaller pack, and the glow from it splashed across the grey beach and lit his face from beneath like some ghoulish stage makeup. When they reached the end of the dock, the older giant shot the vest pocket and its occupant a glare that was only deepened by the lighting. 

As if Isaac needed another reason not to like the man. He wasn’t the type to spook easily, but that guy didn’t make it easy to ignore the vast differences between them.

The giants trudged along the beach in the dark, and Isaac imagined his poor boat splintering under an enormous boot. There was no point in trying to stop them; they didn’t understand him and it might just make that older bastard toss him into the waves after all.

If he got away from them, he could see about coming back to look for his boat. If it’d even be seaworthy after the abuse it had already endured to get him this far.

As it was, he focused instead on the fact that they were headed for an opening in the trees. As they came closer, he saw a more obvious footpath, one that would be like a broad dirt avenue to his scale. He also noticed with some discomfort that the trees at the edge of the shore were mere saplings and they still stood about as tall as he’d expect of a fully grown tree. Which meant the trees beyond them were taller and broader than any he’d ever seen before.

He’d heard tales of trees like this out in California. He’d never sailed there before. He couldn’t be sure if those redwoods would stand up to the towers that grew all around him and the already-towering giants. The texture of the bark, the leaves, even the broken twigs from their passage, were highlighted by the lantern in stark contrast. Every shadow loomed larger than anything he’d ever seen, and in the distance creatures could be heard chattering in the woods. Wandering off this well-worn path would be a deathwish. If there were giant people here, there would be giant creatures.

The perspective wormed its way into his head. Isaac had never thought of himself as a small man, coming from a strong sailor on one side and a sturdy farm woman on the other, but here, huddled in a pocket with a fishhook stashed away as a weapon, he was small. He was on the way to a giant’s home, on a giant mountain among giant trees. Little more than the ship rat he’d playacted for the whole fishing trip.

He remembered seeing the cabin from out on the waves, back before he’d recognized the scale of things. What had originally looked like a cozy little abode was surely a cathedral of wood and smoke. And it was probably home to more than just the two giants that had found him.

Isaac was going to have to be watchful. At least one of the giants he’d met so far had no love for him at all, and he couldn’t be sure if that was the common sentiment on this bizarre mountain island.

Coulda washed up on Maui, or the Cape. Instead I’m stuck with whatever this is.