The Giant

Every few months the village of Hamshire would be visited by a four-hundred-foot-tall giant.  The giant was not purposefully cruel, but had previously inflicted more than enough damage that whenever he returned the villagers panicked and scurried about in preparation for his arrival.  To prevent the giant from ransacking the entire village, the king ordered the construction of a massive platform on which the villagers were to place as much food as humanly possible.  Next to the platform stood a water tower, also built by order of the king, but instead of water the tank was filled with milk in the days preceding the giant’s visit.  The guards on the hills lit signal fires when they saw the giant, but this wasn’t necessary for every three months the ground would shake viciously and no one needed to see the smoke from the fires to know that the giant was approaching.  Since it had been roughly three months since the giant had last visited, the entire village was on edge for they knew he would return any day now.
The king was in the castle talking to his advisor the morning the giant returned.  He felt the ground shaking and immediately ran upstairs to the top of the keep to get a better view.  His advisor followed him up and in the tower the two men gazed toward the hills on the horizon.  They could see the smoke from the signal fires and the earth trembling with each footstep.  Distant forests rattled and flocks of birds burst from the tree canopies.  In the village, frantic farm animals raced for cover and villagers rushed to place fresh food on the platform and fresh milk in the water tower.  The sweet smell of baked bread wafted through the village as the villagers piled loaves, croissants, and sticky buns on the platform.
“Do you think that’s enough food?” asked the king.
“It’s plenty more than the little bastard ate when he first paid us a visit,” replied the advisor, “Plus, we’ve got the milk for God sakes!”
The giant’s wobbly head appeared in the distant hills.  His fine hair was blowing in the wind, and as he walked downhill his head disappeared behind a hill and then reappeared as he walked up the next one.  The villagers tossed the last of the bread and other food on the platform and men scurried down the ladders of the milk tower with buckets in hand then ran back to the village to hide from the giant.  The giant gurgled and babbled as he crossed over the last hill, and the screaming villagers ran indoors when they laid eyes on him.  The giant was an enormous toddler, no more than one-year old, but of ungodly proportions and appetite.  He stood above the food platform and milk tower salivating, his eyes darting from the food to the village to the castle, which was half his height and size. Casting a shadow over the village, the giant baby wobbled naked and dirty, he then let out a loud blabbing and cooing as he looked at the food and milk.
“He’s getting bigger,” said the king.
“Well he’s certainly a growing boy,” replied the advisor, sarcastically adding, “I suppose we’ll just keep on feeding him until his palate and appetite includes villagers and kings and their advisors.”
“If we can satiate him with the platform and milk then we shall keep him at bay.”
“He’s already taken half our grain stock, if we keep on feeding him surely we’ll starve to death.  This must end, my king!”
“Shut up,” said the king, “He’s going for it.”
The giant baby had fixated on the milk tower, his mouth gaping as he moved his fingers around in his hands. He leaned toward the tower and placed his mouth on the edge of the huge milk container.  The big baby then stuck his humongous tongue in the milk.
“Why’s he going for the milk first?” asked the advisor.
Before the king could respond the giant toddler ripped the milk tank off the tower and began to drink.  He then tipped the container and milk poured into his mouth, although much spilled down his chin and neck and splashed onto the ground.
“He was supposed to drink the milk after he eats!” yelled the advisor.
“Feel free to go explain that to him,” said the king.
Milk dripped from the giant’s mouth and trickled down his gargantuan belly and baby fat.  The giant baby dropped the massive container and it rolled away.  He then turned his attention to the platform of food at his feet.  He stared at the food and babbled, slowly reached down, but then lost his balance.  The giant baby pulled his arm back and swayed briefly before dropping down onto his bottom, shaking the earth and castle so hard the king and advisor stumbled.  The baby giant was unfazed by the fall and was now sitting in front of the mountain of food on the platform.  He leaned forward and sniffed the pile of food, some of the bread was still warm.  He then leaned his face into the food and began taking huge bites without the aid of his hands.
“Look at him,” said the advisor, “He’s devouring everything, even the stale food.  I tell we should poison the bread, give him some of the old Saint Anthony’s Fire, that’d be his last visit to Hamshire!”
“And kill a baby?” said the king.
“A baby!?” said the advisor, “A baby?!  That’s not a baby!”
They looked at the giant baby.  He had eaten nearly all the food and was now licking the platform.
“Good God,” said the advisor, “He’s finished the bread.  That took a fortnight to bake.  He’ll be coming for us next!”
“Calm down,” said the king. “I think he’s full.”
“We’re plumb out of milk, too,” said the advisor, “He’ll be gunning for the source next.  I tell you we have to take him down.”
“We are not going to kill him,” said the king.
“We can’t keep on feeding him, my lord.  He’ll eat up the entire kingdom.  There’ll be nothing left for us.  If we can simply…”
“We’re not going to kill him!” yelled the king.  “Have you thought that through?  First of all, we’re not even sure he’s mortal.  Second of all, where did he come from do you think?”
“He comes from the mountains, my lord, we’ve seen that.”
“I’m not talking about the mountains!” said the king. “I’m talking about his mommy!  You came from your mommy, didn’t you?”
“I suppose so, my lord.”
“You suppose so?  You did!  And what makes you think he didn’t? You think it’s a good idea to inflict harm upon a giant baby?  What happens if his mom finds out?  Then we’re all dead!”
The advisor remained silent and held out his arm helplessly toward the giant baby as he lifted the platform up and put it in his mouth.
The king said, “Even if we have to dedicate the resources of the entire Kingdom year after year to keep feeding this baby, then we will.”
“And what about when he grows to be a teenager, my lord?  He’ll eat us out of house and home. We’d have to start stockpiling now.”
“So be it,” said the king.
They watched as the giant baby let the platform fall from his mouth to the ground.  He looked around for a minute and seemed to grow a little bored.  The baby leaned forward and put his hands down and pushed himself up and stood.  He looked to the village and the castle and said something that only he understood.  He then wobbled around and walked back toward the hills.  The villagers came out from their houses to watch him go, the ground shaking with each giant step.  From the tower the king and advisor watched the giant baby’s head disappear over the distant hills and reappear as he walked up the next one.  After a minute he had crossed over the last hill on the horizon and was gone. 

The Temptation of Saint Anthony, Joos van Craesbeeck