“Master Sardu carried each body away from the cave and buried them deep. For what reason, he could not guess-though he did feel himself being watched, perhaps even stud ied, by some being lurking within that dark cave. Their skulls had been crushed with great force, but their bodies remained uneaten-killed by a beast of tremendous strength, yet not out of hunger or fear. That next day he set out, and in an area previously searched, discovered the body of his father, and of all his cousins and uncles, laid out at the entrance to an underground cave. And so on, you see.” “Yes, Bubbeh?” “Until the only one left was Jusef, the boy giant. And so it was that one of Jusef ’s cousins failed to return that evening. Gui lle r mo de l to r o a nd chu ck h o g a n The rest waited for him all night, and spread out to search for “And so it was that his father, off tracking a wolf, was the ﬁrst to become separated from the others, just before nightfall on the second evening. He wanted to cleanse the house of Sardu of this curse, to marry off his son, and produce many healthy heirs. They could hear the wolves, crying in the night, and he wanted one badly for his son, his only son, whose gigantism was a pox upon the Sardu line. Some wanted to leave, but the elder Sardu’s obsession came before all else. So many animals that the hunters were unable to sleep at night in their camp. Packs of animals roamed the woods at night, almost like refugees displaced from their shelters, their dens, nests, and lairs. When they arrived in the dark forest, the woodlands felt alive around him. He had never before trav eled anywhere outside his family’s village, and the looks he received from strangers along the journey shamed him. Sardu family lore said that eating wolf meat gave Sardu men courage and strength, and the young master’s father believed that this might cure his son’s weak muscles.” “Yes, Bubbeh?” “Their trek was long and arduous, as well as violently opposed by the weather, and Jusef struggled mightily. They came to hunt wolf, the family symbol, the arms of the house of Sardu. The Sardu men, they did not come to hunt wild pig or bear or elk.

“The giant, he came here?” “To the north country, kaddishel. “Yes, Bubbeh?” “He was also a lover of nature, and had no interest in the brutality of the hunt-but, as a nobleman and a man of rank, at the age of ﬁfteen his father and his uncles prevailed upon him to accompany them on a six-week expedition to Romania.” “To here, Bubbeh?” said Abraham. He chewed a boiled red beet, known as a “baby heart” because of its color, its shape, its capillary-like strings. It was said of him that Master Sardu looked down on everyone, yet looked down on no one.” She nodded at him, reminding him to take another spoonful. But Master Sardu truly was a gentle giant, and much beloved by his people. His frailty and his great size were a secret source of shame to his father. He had not much of a childhood himself, matching his father’s height at the age of eight, and surpassing him by a head at age nine. Turnip sacks-bulged with trinkets and sweets.

He was especially dear to the children of the village, and his great, deep pockets-the size of 1 He had so much compassion- for the poor, for the hardworking, for the sick. “This was his lot in life, and it taught him humility, which is a rare thing indeed for a nobleman to possess. He used a cane, a tall stick-taller than you-with a silver handle carved into the shape of a wolf’s head, which was the family crest.” “Yes, Bubbeh?” said Abraham, between spoonfuls. At times it was a struggle for him just to walk. His muscles lacked the strength to support his long, heavy bones. Master Sardu stood taller than any other man. A bubbeh meiseh, a “grandmother’s story.” A fairy tale. His grandmother, intent on fattening him, sat across from him while he ate his soup, entertaining him by spinning a yarn. He was a pale boy, underweight and sickly. Nce upon a time,” said Abraham Setrakian’s grandmother, “there was a giant.” Young Abraham’s eyes brightened, and immediately the cabbage borscht in the wooden bowl got tastier, or at least less garlicky. Knickerbocker Loans and Curios, East 118th Street,Īcknowledgments About the Authors Other Books by Chuck Hogan Credits Cover Copyright About the Publisher 17th Precinct Headquarters, East Fifty-first Street,

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