Free The Hakawati by Alameddine Rabih Page B

there. He is younger and much smaller than any of you.”
    The boys went into the forest, each carrying his bread and chocolate and condensed milk. Some began to collect firewood while others chopped down dying trees. Every boy was doing his share, except for Jardown, who sat on a big rock with his feet dangling above the forest floor.
    “Jardown,” one of the boys said, “why aren’t you cutting wood?”
    “My grandfather gave you a piece of bread so you would cut wood for me, too.”
    So the boys cut more wood. When they thought they had enough, they gathered all the wood in bundles to carry back to the village. Each boy carried his own bundle—each boy except for Jardown, who still sat in the same place.
    “Jardown,” another boy said, “why aren’t you carrying a bundle?”
    “My grandfather gave you all a piece of chocolate so you would carry my bundle.”
    The boys picked up Jardown’s bundle and began to leave, but then they noticed that Jardown was not moving. “Why aren’t you coming with us, Jardown? We are going home.”
    “My grandfather gave you all two drops of condensed milk so you would carry me when I got tired.”
    A boy much bigger than Jardown lifted him onto his shoulders. They began the long trek home. Soon, however, the sun shrank and everything grew dark. The boys walked and walked and walked and walked, but they couldn’t find their way out of the forest.
    “Which way is the right way?” one of the boys asked.
    “This way.” “That way.” “No, that way.” “No, this way.”
    In the distance the boys heard the vicious barking of a dog. In the opposite direction from the barking, they saw a light. They wondered which they should walk toward, the barking or the light. After much deliberation, they asked Jardown: “Which way should we go, Jardown? In one direction we have a dog barking. Should we go there, or should we go where there is light?”
    Jardown, the smart one, pondered the question. He said, “If we gotoward the dog, it might bite us. I think we should go toward the light.”
    The boys walked toward the light, which was coming from a cottage in the middle of the forest. They knocked on the door, but no one answered. They entered and decided to wait there till morning, when they would be able to see their way back.
    After they settled in the cottage, the boys heard a loud noise that sounded like a huge wild animal outside the door. The boys scuttled about and hid behind every piece of furniture. Some went behind the curtains, two crouched under the sofa, one even went up the unlit chimney flue. The door opened, and a big, hairy monster walked in—big as in bigger than a camel standing on its hind legs, but not quite as big as an elephant; hairy as in even hairier than a bear and with a big beard and long hair. He walked in, the sound of each step echoing through the house. The monster took a deep breath. “What’s this I smell?” he asked. “It smells like I have humans in here. Young, tasty flesh. I love the smell of boys. Where are they? Where are the yummy boys?”
    He searched behind the chairs, under the sofa. He found each boy, one by one. He even located the boy in the chimney. The boys huddled in the middle of the room.
    “What are you boys doing in my house?” the monster asked. One of them said in a low, quivering voice, “We can’t find our way home.”
    The monster looked at the feast of boys in front of him, the aroma of tender flesh making him drool. He realized that he wouldn’t be able to eat all the boys in one sitting, there were so many of them. The best thing to do would be to get the boys to bed and then eat them one by one while they slept. The monster told the boys: “Allow me to be your host. Spend the night here. I know the way back to your village, but I can only find it when there is light. In the morning, I will show you the way back home. No one finds his way in the dark. Sleep here, where it is safe.”
    The boys relaxed,