Gordon the Nervous Ghost & Other Stories

At the other end of the field Odin was throwing the hammer. He was whirling the hammer round his head on the end of a piece of chain, faster and faster, before heaving it off into space. Odin wasn’t a big giant, though a lot bigger than Roland, and he was much more understanding.

‘Well, young Roland, would you like a go?’ he asked, bending down so he could speak to him.

‘Yes please, Odin,’ said Roland. Kindly Odin found him the smallest hammer and showed Roland how to whirl it round his head. Roland dragged it round in a circle going faster and faster.

‘Let go now,’ said Odin, but Roland was getting excited and ignored him.

‘Let go!’ shouted Odin.

‘Whaaa!’ shouted back Roland going even faster.

‘Let go!’ bawled Odin at the top of his voice. And Roland finally let go. There was a whooshing noise, a cloud of dust, and Odin was left gazing sadly at the hammer which was lying completely still on the floor.

‘Gosh,’ said Odin. ‘If only it was Roland throwing, not hammer throwing.’

Roland landed over four miles away. By the time he had walked all the way back it was late afternoon and he’d missed his dinner. Most of the giants had finished practising their events and were all gathered around the centre of the green where the wrestling was taking place.

Costos was taking on all-comers. He had been the champion for ten years. He was a great roaring giant with a huge beard and a mouth that gaped open like a hippopotamus. He had just hurled Bruno right over the ropes and into the crowd.

‘Any other comers?’ he bawled, thumping his chest like a gorilla. But there weren’t. No one could fight Costos. All the other giants avoided his eyes. ‘Come on, what are you? Giants or dwarfs?’ shouted Costos. Suddenly everyone fell silent as Roland stepped into the ring.

‘Aah,’ said Costos, answering his own question, ‘It seems you are dwarfs.’

Roland offered to shake Costos’ hand, but Costos, who towered above him, pretended he couldn’t reach down that far.

‘Don’t get up,’ he said. ‘Oh, you are up.’ His huge mouth fell open like a drawbridge and a great bellow of laughter blew Roland back against the ropes. He struggled back to the centre of the ring.

‘Is the rest of you coming along later?’ howled Costos. Once again Roland struggled against the huge blast of air. ‘Wouldn’t you like to take your coat off?’ shouted Costos. ‘It’s much too heavy for you.’

‘I’m not afraid of you,’ shouted Roland, in his piping voice. Completely untruthfully as it happens because he was very afraid of him.

‘All right then,’ said Costos, getting into his wrestling crouch. Roland huddled down, which wasn’t a very sensible thing to do as he was too low already. He shuffled around Costos making wrestler’s grunting noises like he’d heard them do on the television. Costos watched him then suddenly lifted up his foot and slammed it right down on Roland, squashing him as flat as a piece of sticking plaster.