Obviously, There Was

Jack’s heart was pumping in anticipation.

There was an ache in his limbs and wind in his hair.

The scent of fresh greenery surrounded him.

He had never climbed so high before.

He had also never climbed a giant beanstalk before.

He was pleased with himself.

His mother had said he would regret his decision.

“There's no such thing as “magic” beans.” She said using air-quotes pointedly.

Obviously, there was.

He hadn’t set out with the intention of selling his cow for magic beans. But on his way to the market he came across a street magician who pulled a rabbit out of a hat. This was not so impressive. But then the rabbit pulled the magician out of the hat and everyone lost their minds. Jack had to take a few moments retracing his steps to find his. He found it in the last place he left it.

“That was amazing” said Jack.

“Your cow is amazing” said the magician.

His cow was, in fact, amazing. Her markings were an abstract pattern that caused people to subconsciously project their inner purpose. Like a bovine Rorschach of sorts.

Jack did not know this. He thought it was perfectly natural to look at a cow and find meaning.

Coincidentally he had named the cow Rawrshark after a visit to an aquarium.

“I want magic.” said Jack.

“I want your cow.” said the rabbit.

“I have magic beans.” said the magician.

“I have… a cow.” said Jack.

Jack took the magic beans and walked into the market.

The rabbit took the cow and walked into the hat.

Later, after a visit to another aquarium, the magician renamed the cow Porpoise.

Jack wasn't stupid. He knew about the different kinds of magic: Earth, fire, water, wind, spirit, moon, teatime and bean. 
Most magic was terribly complicated, highly dangerous and unpredictable (the most volatile being teatime). Most magic was not to be meddled with idly. It was also not to be meddled with idli. But bean magic was widely known to be safe and reliable.

Magic beans = giant beanstalk = wicked giant = hordes of gold.

This was the way it had always bean.

Bean magic, like mundane beans, was known for its ………. consistency.

Jack knew this and therefore felt his trade was in his favour. It involved a bit of work yes. But he would soon be very wealthy, he just had to kill the wicked giant. Jack was excited about the gold, and anxious about the giant. He motivated himself to keep climbing by thinking of all the things he would buy with his gold. A car, another car, a third car, maybe a watch, and a year of home delivered milk, now that Rawrshark was gone.

He had passed several birds, and even went through a small cloud.

The cloud said to its friend, “I just felt a sudden warmth pass through me. Almost as if… as if there's a person close by.”

Its friend replied, “You believe in such paranormal nonsense. There's no such thing as people.”

Obviously, there was.

As he climbed he got greedier and greedier. Now he was imagining a mansion with many servants, endless food and drink, the best steak in the world, attractive women that loved him, and all the milk money could buy. But most of all he was most pleased that he was right, and his mother was not.

At the home of Mr. and Mrs. Giant, (affectionately known by their nephews and nieces as Giaunt and Giuncle) the garden was a little different than it had been a few years earlier.The Giants had become increasingly frustrated over the decades as tiny people came from their garden and tried to murder them and steal pieces of Mrs Giant’s jewellery. (Most of it was costume jewellery, but she had some gold for fancy occasions.)

“Why was this happening? What had they done to deserve this? And where were these little attempted murderers coming from?” they kept asking themselves.

Finally, they called in experts.

The first expert said, “There’s no such thing as tiny people.”

Obviously, there was.

The second expert informed them they had a human infestation. The humans travelled interdimensionally using beanstalks for some unfathomable reason. So Mr. and Mrs. Giant had pulled up all their beans, never to plant interdimensional beanstalks in their garden again. They would just have to buy theirs in the supermarket.

Jack reached the top of the beanstalk.

There was no giant.

There was no gold.

There was only what you would expect on a giant beanstalk.

Giant beans.

“Dammit!” Jack said. “I hate beans.”

He returned home sad that he had no gold.

But even sadder that his mother was right.

And even though he hated beans he started a very successful company called Jack’s Giant Baked Beans.

Like he always knew he would.

It was the very reason he hated beans.

It was his purpose.

He had seen it in his cow.