Climbing Beanstalks

Note: I wrote this scene as an exercise in charactor development, I wanted to know the way this charactor would feel in certain circumstances and I also wanted to explore her relationship with her grandfather. If it seems as though I didn't explain too much of her past that is why; I'm working on writing the rest of her story.


Jack was restless. She sat on the white wooden steps of the front porch of her grandfather’s home and considered the glowing blue of twilight. At 27 years old, the shadowed blue of the evening should have shone with magic and wonder; and it still did, though that magic had seemed to fade with the years. The first evening star had risen, and the half moon put Grandpa Jack’s famous beanstalk in silhouette. She still climbed that absurd plant from time to time, to visit her friend, the giantess Millie. She and Millie had a long standing business relationship. Jack sold all kinds of candy at Star Talers, and the chocolate eggs that Millie's famous hen lay were a favorite, not only for thier rich taste, but for the beautiful gold foil they were wrapped in.

Of course, she didn’t really need to climb the vine, the railroad that had been built up Cloud Mountain had put an end to such unconventional means of travel, but no Jack of the O’Malley clan worth her salt would ever take the railroad. The family’s pride in their occupation included bequeathing a child with the name Jack every generation. Because Jack was the only child of her generation, she had received the name despite being female.

Jack had never minded, though her mother had tried to convince the men of the family to name her Jacqueline or some feminine form of the name. She had been overruled by tradition. Jack smiled, and sipped the coffee that warmed her hands. She adored her Grandpa Jack, and was proud to be named for him.

Tonight was Grandpa Jack’s 82nd birthday, and he was still as spry and energetic as he had been fifty years ago when he had first climbed the beanstalk. Jack had escaped the bustle of the gathering because she found that she didn’t much enjoy her family’s company anymore. Her mother was the main culprit, continually asking when she and Joel would get back together. Being devout, Shana O'Malley didn’t believe in divorce, and thought that the problems in her daughter's marriage could be solved by talking through it. She didn’t blame her mother, she’d never seen Joel the way Jack had seen him. At the time Jack could hardly believe it herself. She had dated Joel for three years before marrying him, and he’d never shown the slightest hint of being abusive at that time. Her mother didn’t know, and couldn’t believe. In fact, Jack wouldn’t have believed it herself if she hadn’t been the subject of his abuse.
Jack’s father was no help either. He was neatly under his wife’s thumb, ‘yes dear’ being his phrase of choice. She didn’t blame him either. Her mother’s will was formidable and it was easier just to go along with her.

But Jack did love and respect her uncles. She had two, Uncle Harry and Uncle Roy. Uncle Harry was a real-estate broker, and Roy was his partner, a lawyer who did stand up comedy on the side. They were fun to be around, a truly hilarious duo. But they were also much more than that. They’d given her a place to stay after she’d gotten out of the hospital and decided to leave Joel. Roy had been her divorce lawyer.

Jack had hugged and kissed both men, and then found a place on the veranda as the rest of the guests drifted out the door. Grandpa Jack had given her one of his measuring looks, and asked her to stay to help him clean up. Translation: you need someone to listen to, and I’m going to be that person, Jack thought with a grim smile. She was closer to her grandfather than she was to anyone else in the entire world, and he always knew when she was upset.

Hearing the wood creak behind her, she wasn’t surprised to hear Grandpa Jack’s voice. “Penny for your thoughts,” he murmured, lowering himself to the step behind her. His knees creaked like the steps beneath him, but she knew he’d never give up sitting on the steps of his veranda.

Tall and thin, Grandpa Jack often joked that he was a beanpole of an old man. His hair, originally black, had settled into a dignified shade of white. His eyes were a clear blue, with a ring of hazel around the pupil. Those eyes were as familiar as Jacks own, because she had inherited them. There were laugh lines around his mouth and worry lines on his forehead. Those lines were prominent now, though he exuded a calm and mild manner.

She glanced back and to the right, as he was sitting a little diagonal from her. She tried to smile, but gave it up. Her heart felt still and silent though her mind raced with worries.
“Oh, a lot of things.” She replied, her manner carefully offhand. “Joel mostly- and Gary. One of the girls at the shelter said something to me the other day, and it really made me think.”

He waited, patiently as always, for her to explain. Jack didn’t want to tell, but she never could lie to her Grandpa Jack. Besides, any man who could wait years for a beanstalk to grow had more than enough patience to outlast her. He was like Gary in that respect. Patient to a fault.

“She wondered why it was that I encouraged other women to consider dating again, why I told them that not all men were like their ex-husbands when I didn’t date myself.” She paused, looking up at her grandpa. “It’s been four years since Joel. I had no serious boyfriends before him and since then-” she broke off and smiled. “I guess you could say I’ve been rather celibate.”

Grandpa Jack sighed, and scooted down a step to sit beside her so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck to look at him. He rested his elbows on the porch behind him and sat back, thinking. “I had wondered about that.” He told her. “But you’ve always done things in your own time and your own way.” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. “You’re rather like me in that respect. But-” and now he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his hands folded together. “Sometimes you need a kick in the rear to get started again. Lord knows I’ve needed plenty of them. I’m guessing that you’ve just had such a kick.”

Jack sighed, swatting a bug out of her face. He knew her too well. “Yes, I have.” She paused, glancing back at the beanstalk and wondering how to tell him how it had been given to her.

“My guess,” he began, his voice quiet in the darkening evening, “is that it came from your friend, Gary. I had wondered when that boy would make his move.”

Jack whipped around to face him, startled. “You knew?”

“Jack, sweetheart, he’s had his eye on you for a long time.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he asked her; “Now, when was the last time that he went on a serious date?”

“He had a serious girlfriend when we met,” she mumbled.

“And he broke it off with her the next year. By then he was already coming to visit me with you.”

“Well, of course, he was my best friend, and I knew you two would get along…”

Not to be sidetracked, he continued, leaning back again. “And how many serious dates since then?”

Jack turned, propping her back against the support and replied indignantly. “I don’t keep track of his love life!”

He laughed then, a low rich sound that filled the air around them, and she blessed the darkness for hiding her blush. She did know. Gary hadn’t dated seriously for a long time.

“And what did you tell him?” Grandpa Jack asked, the smile still in his voice.

Jack paused, and sipped her coffee. “I told him no,” her words were muffled by the lip of the cup she had muttered them into.

She waited for him to say something, anything, but he didn’t. The silence lengthened and became uncomfortable.

“I- I just couldn’t, Grandpa. I like him certainly, but how could I trust again? I’d liked Joel, I trusted Joel, I loved Joel and believed he loved me too, and then he threw me down the stairs like I was nothing. You think you’d know when you were dating a person like that. You’d think there would be warning signs, but there were none. How could I start again, not knowing whether the person I dated would become the monster that Joel became?” She wiped a tear from her cheek, belatedly noticing that it was there. Her emotions had crept up on her, the way her feelings for Gary had. “It’s not that I don’t like Gary, I do, it’s just- all I ever wanted in life was stability. I thought I had it with Joel, and I was wrong. I’ve finally gained it again and I don’t want to lose that. I wanted a sturdy path and I keep getting potholes.”

He handed her a tissue and let her wipe her eyes and regain her composure. They sat for a while, in a kind of contemplative silence. Finally, he spoke. “It seems to me, that life is not so much a stroll down a path as it is a climb up a beanstalk. When you’re a child, the challenge seems an adventure. As you get older it becomes harder, more of a struggle. You reach, you strive. You find sturdy handholds and pull yourself up to rest on stable leaves.

“Sometimes though, something you thought was stable will give way. Sometimes, as you scramble for another handhold, hoping you won’t fall, you see a hand reaching down towards you, offering its help. Here you have two choices: you can ignore the hand and struggle along on your own, or you can take the hand and hope it pulls you to safety. Taking the hand is a risk. You don’t know if they’ll drop you, or if they’ll save you.

“The choice is yours, Jack. But you have to ask yourself, is Gary the kind of man who will let you fall?”

He stood, limbs groaning like the creaky boards of the porch. He bent and gently kissed the top of her head. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna need some help with these dishes.”

And so she rose as well, abandoning the deepening darkness for the warmth of the kitchen, but the question followed her, and no matter how she tried, she could not banish it from her mind.