‘Pareidolia is a fascinating quirk of the human mind, reminding us that sometimes what we see isn’t always what’s really there.’
– Brian Cox (Born 1968 in England); a particle physicist know for Why Does E=mc²?, The Quantum Universe, Wonders of Life, Wonders of the Universe, to name but a few.
In the eerie semi-darkness, a chilling whisper pierced the air, sending shivers down our spines. “Move! Move!” The urgent words hung in the stillness, raising the hairs on our arms and necks. Heart racing, we strained to hear.
“What’s happening?” someone asked, his words barely audible in the tense atmosphere. A hushed response came, laden with dread.
“The giant is moving! Run!”
Time seemed to stand still for a fraction of a second before chaos erupted. Panic seized the whole group, driving everyone’s desperate actions. Like a symphony of terror, six pairs of young legs pounded the path towards home.
Meanwhile, darkness closed in relentlessly, swallowing the remnants of daylight, leaving us disoriented. Even the path, which we knew well, became an abyss of uncertainty.
Our only instinct was to flee, to put as much distance as possible between ourselves and the danger.
It was only when we reached the path to our farms that my cousin and I stopped running. Too out of breath to say anything, we both collapsed on the grass on the side of the path.
As Ratum and I caught our breath, we stared at each other, still shaken by the adrenaline rush from our sprint.
“Can you believe we fell for it again?” Ratum chuckled, shaking his head. “Every time we pass by the spot, that rock manages to scare the living daylights out of us.”
I nodded, grinning despite the lingering excitement. “You’d think we’d be used to it by now, but it gets us every single time.”
As we lay on the grass, we watched the remaining boys disappearing further down the path towards their farmhouses.
The sun which had set below the horizon, cast a warm golden glow across the distant mountains.
The wind rustled through the leaves, creating a soothing melody that gradually calmed our racing hearts.
“You know,” Ratum remarked, breaking the peaceful silence, “somebody should do something about this giant. It’s causing unnecessary panic among the farmers in this area, especially those who walk past alone.”
“Nobody’s going to do anything about it,” I said. “Working on the farm is hard enough and takes most of their time.”
“You’re right, but if nothing is done, the giant will continue to bother passersby,” said Ratum.
“What about you? Do you fear it?” I asked.
“Not really.”
“Why did you run just now then?”
“Because everyone was running!” he laughed. “I didn’t want to be left behind.”
“But you’ve got to admit that sometimes the rock does look like a monster, especially at dusk.”
“To us, it’s just a rock, but there are people who are always fearful.”
“Yeah, like that old man by the river. I can’t remember his name.”
“Old Man Muel, that’s what we call him. He is so afraid of the giant that he won’t go near the spot when the night is near.”
The old man’s name was Amuel. I didn’t know him well because he behaved like a hermit. He lived alone on his remote rural farm miles away from the village.
Surrounded by dense forests, his only company was a dog, chickens, and several ducks.
Unlike a real hermit, though, he visited my parents from time to time to barter his chicken eggs for our vegetables.
It was from my parents that I came to know about Old Man Amuel’s fear of the giant. I also picked up bits and pieces of the story from other people and the rest I witnessed myself.
The one thing that made Amuel’s heart skip a beat every time he ventured down to his farm was the large rock that stood like a sentinel, overlooking the path.
During the day, the rock appeared unassuming and ordinary, like any other rock one might encounter.
However, when the moon went up high in the night sky or when the light was just right, it took on an eerie transformation.
Its jagged edges seemed to contort into the shape of a towering giant, watching over the land with an unyielding gaze.
According to Amuel, his imagination would run wild as he passed by the rock.
In those moments, he could swear that the giant moved, its shadowy figure shifting subtly in the moonlight.
Its eyes, he believed, glowed with an otherworldly light, following his every movement with an unsettling intensity.
Fear would grip him, and he would quicken his pace, desperate to escape the giant’s gaze.
“I swear, every time I passed by, I could feel the giant’s eyes following me,” he once told my father.
As the days turned into weeks, Amuel’s fear grew deeper. He became convinced that the giant harboured ill intentions towards him.
Late in the evening or at night, when the sky was bathed in a pale, ethereal glow, the rock’s transformation was most terrifying.
The giant’s menacing presence seemed magnified, and Amuel could almost hear its heavy footsteps echoing through the night.
Amuel’s farm suffered as a result of his increasing fear. He would avoid venturing out after dusk, leaving his crops untended and his animals without proper care.
There was one time when pandemonium broke inside his chicken coop. The birds must have been attacked by a snake or another wild animal.
Instead of rushing out to fight the intruder, he locked his doors and cowered in fear while his chickens died one by one.
Over time, the once-thriving farm began to wither, mirroring Amuel’s deteriorating state of mind.
One stormy night, after a fishing trip with my father and Amuel, we passed by the giant as rain poured relentlessly and thunder rumbled in the distance.
I quickly noticed that Amuel made sure to place himself in between me and my father as we walked single file along the path.
We had ventured to the river earlier in the day and had lost track of time while trying to catch snakehead fish.
Darkness had settled upon the land, and we forgot that on the way back we had to pass by the giant.
Although we had no lamp or lantern, navigating the path proved relatively manageable due to our familiarity with it.
Despite the stormy night, the faint illumination emanating from the sky provided sufficient visibility of the ground.
As we approached the valley where the giant stood, it was clear that Amuel was filled with dread. To distract him, my father asked him to tell me a story.
“Tell the boy a story that he will be able to tell his children in future,” said Father.
I knew that he was worried about Amuel as the old man couldn’t afford to leave his farm neglected any longer.
Suddenly, a blinding bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the landscape for a fleeting moment.
In that brief, dazzling flash, Samuel’s eyes widened in disbelief. For a second he stood still and then disconcertingly he began to laugh.
He laughed and laughed till he became so out of breath that he fell to his knees in exhaustion while Father and I looked on in disbelief and confusion.
It turned out that finally, he realised that the giant was no more than a trick of his mind, a manifestation of his fears and imagination.
The rock, once again, stood innocently along the path, its jagged edges bathed in the rain’s glistening embrace.
Samuel’s fear melted away, replaced by a mix of relief and embarrassment.
He had allowed his mind to conjure a terrifying spectre where none truly existed.
From that night forward, Amuel learned to confront his fears head-on. He no longer lets the rock’s illusion hinder his livelihood or dictate his life.
As the seasons changed, the farm flourished once more, and Amuel’s spirit grew stronger.
But now and then, as he passed by the rock, he couldn’t help but smile. For deep down, he knew that sometimes, our fears can become the very giants that haunt us, until we find the courage to see them for what they truly are — mere illusions in the moonlight.
But now and then, as he passed by the rock, he couldn’t help but smile. For deep down, he knew that sometimes, our fears can become the very giants that haunt us, until we find the courage to see them for what they truly are — mere illusions in the moonlight.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of the New Sarawak Tribune.
