“Okay, let’s go,” says Mia sounding a lot more courageous than she feels. In fact, they are all trying to put on a brave face. But it shows in their tiny voices as they sing: “We’re so dumb, we’re so dumb, We’re so dumb, dumb, dumb. From the top of our head to our bum, bum, bum.”
The kids creep forward and peer into the darkness of the cave, the noise from inside echoing around the walls. They can’t see Dad’s chair or anything else for that matter. Except for a light, that is, in the distance.
They pick their way in the darkness towards the light. But the closer they get the more scared they feel. And it’s hard not to show it when their teeth seem to have a mind of their own and chatter away.
“We’re so d-d-dumb, we’re so d-d-dumb . We’re so d-d-dumb, d-d-dumb, d-d-dumb–”
They give up and go on in silence until they reach the entrance to a smaller cave, where the light – and the noise – is coming from. And they peer inside. Are they going to come face to face with the Giant now they wonder?
No. What they see is a Kangaroo. It’s sitting at a drum kit and beating it with such force it’s lucky not to be arrested for cruelty. The Kangaroo sees them and stops playing.
“G’day,” it says pleasantly.
“G’day,” say the kids.
“You’re a Kangaroo!” says Mia, almost accusingly. Well, when you think you’re going to see a Giant and you see a Kangaroo, what else would you say? Certainly not “You’re a teapot”. But this being Dumdumland, who knows?
“I am not a Kangaroo,” says the Kangaroo. “I’m a Rock Wallaby.” And he beats out some Rock on the drums to prove it.
“But down in the village they think that’s the Giant banging about,” says Sami.
“Well nobody’s come to complain,” says the Kangaroo.
“Maybe they’re too scared,” says Mia.
“Who’d be scared of me?” says the Kangaroo.
“Are you saying it’s just you here. And there is no Giant,” says Mia.
“Of course there’s a Giant,” says the Kangaroo. “Who do you think let’s me practice here?”
“So…so where…where is he?” says Mia, fighting her fear.
“He’s right behind you,” says the Kangaroo.
The kids freeze. Then slowly they turn and look. And look. And look.
“I can’t see him,” says Freddie,
“Nor me,” says Mia and Sami.
“Where is he?” says Claudie.
“I’m here, Stupid!”
They look down towards the source of the sound and see a tiny figure no bigger than a Garden Gnome, with a teeny-weeny voice to match.
“You’re not a Giant!” says Mia.
“I am so a Giant,” says the tiny figure. “I’m a Dumdum Giant. We come in two sizes: Jumbo and Economy. Guess which I am?”
“That’s crazy. There’s no such thing as a small Giant,” says Mia.
“Well, do I look Jumbo-size to you?”
“But the people think you’re Ginormous and kidnap people and suck their brains out through a straw,” says Sami.
“I know,” says the Giant sadly. “I’ve got the worst PR.”
“You mean you don’t suck out people’s brains?” says Freddie somewhat disappointed.
“Yuck!” says the Giant. “As if.”
“What about stealing things from the town and bringing them up here?” says Sami.
“Why would I do that?” says the Giant. “All their stuff would be way too big for me. Though I do borrow things from the fairies when they’re not looking.”
“We’re trying to find a revolving office chair. Have you seen one anywhere?” says Mia.
“I haven’t even seen a revolving office,” says the Giant.
Mia looks at the brother and sisters. “You know what this means? It mean if the Giant didn’t take the chair, someone else did.”
“Oh, you’re good, Sherlock,” says Sami.
“You know what I mean,” says Mia. “Who warned us off about coming here? Who said the flying pigs might attack us and they did? Who—”
“The Town Clerk in the Mayor’s Office,” says Sami.
“If anyone knows where Dad’s chair is,” says Mia, “that weasly little thing does.”
“It’s not as though I didn’t tell him years ago,” says the Giant.
“What?” says Sami.
“I knew they were saying terrible things about me in the town, so I went to see the Mayor. As he was out I spoke to the Town Clerk. And I told him what I told you. But nothing changed.”
“Does this mean we’ve got to go back to where we started?” says Freddie not too happy at the thought.
“I’m hungry,” says Claudie.
“That’s a big surprise,” says Mia. “But nobody’s getting anything until we get home. And before we can go home we have to find the chair.”
“It’s such a long way back to town,” says Claudie. “And my feet hurt.”
They look at each other with glum faces. It begins to seem like they’ll never get home. There’s an awful silence as they think about life without Mum and Dad and their friends and all the things they love. Claudie’s little face starts to crumple and she lets out a Claudie-sized sob. Mia puts a comforting arm around her. “We’ll get there somehow, Claudie,” she says.
“I suppose I could magic you back to town,” says the Giant.
“What!” they say as one.
“That would be awesome,” says Mia.
“And we could tell the people you’re really nice and they shouldn’t be scared,” says Sami.
“That would be great. Just tell them the truth. That I’m economy size and would never harm them. And they are welcome to drop by any time.”
“They’ll be so happy,” says Sami. “Knowing there’s nothing to be frightened of.”
“And tell anyone who plays an instrument I’m forming a group called Lord Ga-ga,” says the Kangaroo. “We can go Ga-Ga together.”
“Are you all ready?” says the Giant.
“We’re ready,” they all shout back.
He springs up on a rock. “Magic time,” he says and clicks his fingers. A wand appears in his hand.
“Cool!” say the kids.
“The Fairies lent it to me,” he says, “ only thing they don’t know it yet.”
He taps each of them on the head with the wand and chants: “So they don’t have to trudge all the way down, take these four kids to the middle of town.” He waves the wand. There’s a flash and a flurry of sparks and…
CHAPTER TWELVE: Will they ever get home?