TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  About Your Adventure

  Chapter 1: A HANDFUL OF MAGIC

  Chapter 2: A GIANT’S POINT OF VIEW

  Chapter 3: KEEP REACHING FOR THE STARS

  Chapter 4: THE JACKS TEAM UP

  Chapter 5: THE MANY JACKS

  Critical Thinking Using the Common Core

  Read More

  Internet Sites

  Copyright

  Back Cover

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  ABOUT YOUR ADVENTURE

  Rip! You turn to see the ground tearing open and a huge vine sprouting out of nowhere, reaching up for the sky. What on Earth? Of course there’s only one thing to do—climb it and see where it takes you.

  Chapter One sets the scene. Then you choose which path to read. Follow the links at the bottom of each page as you read the stories. The decisions you make will change your outcome. After you finish one path, go back and read the others for new perspectives and more adventures. Use your device's back buttons or page navigation to jump back to your last choice.

  Follow Jack’s magical beanstalk to take this traditional tale to new heights… if you don’t fall to your doom!

  CHAPTER 1

  A HANDFUL OF MAGIC

  “What’s taking so long?” Jack’s mom yells.

  Jack stares into the empty milking bucket and shakes his head. “Ma’s not gonna like this,” he mumbles, so that Milky White can’t hear.

  MOOOOO! she bellows as if she did hear.

  “It’ll be OK, Milky,” Jack says, patting the cow’s scrawny side. But he’s not sure it will be. Milky hasn’t produced a drop of milk in days.

  Not wanting to face his mother, Jack drags his feet as he heads toward the house. When he gets there, his mother peers into the empty bucket. She lets loose a loud sigh.

  “Selling milk was our only source of income,” she cries. “How will we survive?” Jack’s stomach grumbles in response. Neither of them have had much to eat lately, other than some watery soup.

  “I guess there is only one thing to do,” Ma says. She looks to Milky White out in the pasture. MOO! the cow bellows again, knowing something unpleasant is about to happen. “Since Milky is done giving milk, it’s time to sell her.”

  Tears well up in Jack’s eyes. “Do we have to?” he asks. “I’ll take care of her.”

  “We can’t afford to keep an old, dried-up cow,” his mother replies sternly. “Take her to market. Trade her for something else we can use to earn money. Perhaps some chickens or a sheep.”

  Head down, Jack walks over to Milky and ties a rope to her halter. “Let’s go, ol’ girl.” Then they begin the long, winding trek into town.

  He rounds a bend and hears a loud “Psssst!” A man in a fancy hat stands alongside the road, motioning Jack over to him. “Good morning,” the man says.

  “Morning, sir,” Jack replies.

  “Where are you off to, lad?” the man asks.

  “To market to sell our cow,” Jack sniffs.

  “You won’t get much for a scrawny thing like her,” the man says. “How about we make a trade instead?”

  “What kind of trade?” Jack asks.

  The man reaches into his pocket. “Why, for a handful of these. You’ll never be hungry again…”

  If the man offers Jack magic beans, press here.

  If the man offers Jack magic nuts and bolts, press here.

  If the man offers Jack magic jacks, press here.

  CHAPTER 2

  A GIANT’S POINT OF VIEW

  “Four thousand, seven hundred, and twenty- nine,” you count as you set a gold coin on top of the stack towering in front of you. You reach down into the sack at your feet, grab another, and place it atop the stack as well. “Four thousand, seven hundred, and thirty…”

  You are the giant Blunderbore, and this is your job: counting coins. Doesn’t matter if they’re gold coins, silver coins, brass coins, copper coins, or chocolate candy coins. You spend hours each day happily counting them.

  You’re about to grab the next coin when your wife, Fee Fie, lumbers into your counting chamber.

  “Here you go, Blunniebuns,” she says, setting down a cup of tea. Teatime!

  As Fee Fie leaves, you glance out the window. Outside your stone castle is a wide, rolling plain dotted with trees. Beyond that the tip-tops of snowcapped mountains jut up from the land of Earth far below.

  As you admire the scenery, you spot something peculiar. A large weed has sprouted up amidst your prized petunias.

  To cut it down, press here.

  To let it grow, press here.

  You can’t have weeds crowding out your petunias! Next they’ll be spreading to your peonies and pansies. You head outside, grab an ax, and stomp over to your garden. That’s when you notice that the offensive plant isn’t an ordinary weed.

  It’s a giant beanstalk.

  And it has created a large chasm where it popped up through the ground. Peeking down into the hole, you see that the plant twists and twirls downward until it disappears into the clouds.

  What the…? You set to chopping. Thwack! Whack! Crack!

  The work is hard, and the beanstalk keeps sprouting up and sending out new shoots almost as fast as you can chop them. They snake around your ankles and tangle up your ax.

  As you’re trying to free your ax from the stalk’s vines, you think you see a small creature scurry from beneath the leaves. Some varmint, you think. You get back to hacking. Thwack!

  At last, around suppertime, you seem to have gotten the upper hand. The bothersome vine has stopped growing back and the petunias aren’t being pestered anymore. You head toward the kitchen, your stomach rumbling.

  “Fee Fie, oh hon, I smell some spuds and beef Wellington!” you shout. That’s your favorite.

  Fee Fie slams the lid down on a large black pot and spins around. “What? I know nothing about the blood of an Englishman!” she sputters as her eyes twitch nervously.

  Your stomach grumbles again.

  To see what’s in the pot, press here.

  To wait for Fee Fie to bring you supper, press here.

  You’re curious about that unusual smell, so you lift the lid of the pot.

  “No, don’t!” Fee Fie shouts, but it’s too late. You’ve already seen what she’s hiding. Amongst the carrots and potatoes sits a boy in the stew.

  “What’s this?” you say to Fee Fie as she fakes a look of surprise at seeing the boy in her pot. “What in tarnation?” You help the boy get out. “You know boys give me indigestion, Fee Fie.”

  “You’re such a picky eater,” Fee Fie complains.

  You ignore her and lead the boy to your counting chambers. He tells you his name is Jack. “Here, let me give you something for your troubles,” you say, handing him a small sack of gold coins.

  “Wow! We can buy a new cow with this!” the boy exclaims, stew dripping from his clothes onto your rug. Then he looks at you cautiously. “So, you aren’t going to eat me?”

  “No, no,” you say. “Boys aren’t very tasty. Probably because they don’t bathe very often.”

  Jack lets out a sigh of relief.

  “Where did you come from?” you ask.

  “I crawled up that beanstalk,” Jack admits.

  To take Jack back to the beanstalk, press here.

  To ask Jack to leave, press here.

  As you walk Jack to the beanstalk, you see that it’s grown back, bigger than before. It now towers above you. “I will give you an hour to get down,” you warn. “Then I’m ripping this blasted thing up from its roots. It’s done enough damage to my petunias!”

  You also don’t want anyone else crawling up and causing problems around here or, worse yet, getting put into one of Fee Fie’s stews. There are all sorts of weird creatures living down below, like boys made out of wood and girls with incredibly long stringy hair. Yuck!

  “Thank you, Sir!” Jack says, shimmying down the stalk. “You’re not so bad, for a giant!”

  “And don’t come back!” you yell, trying to sound threatening.

  You sing to your petunias as you wait.

  The beanstalk continues to grow. It sends out new shoots that twist and tangle around everything nearby. After an hour you wrap both arms around the beanstalk. You tug and yank and strain. Sweat pours down your giant brow.

  “Heave!” With a loud rip the beanstalk’s roots finally come loose. You let go and the beanstalk slips back through the chasm. Too late, you notice that some of its new shoots have wrapped themselves around your ankle. Before you know it, you’re being dragged through the hole too.

  You claw and scratch at the dirt, but it’s no use. The weight of the beanstalk pulls you down. Down through the clouds to the little blue planet below.

  “Awwwwww!” you scream. Who knows what miniature evils await you there…

  THE END

  To follow another path, press here.

  You show Jack out the door and tell him never to come back, if he knows what’s good for him.

  “I won’t,” he says. But his eyes twitch slightly, kind of like Fee Fie’s when she’s up to something.

  You go back to counting your coins.

“Now where was I? Oh yes, four thousand, seven hundred, and thirty-one…”

  The next morning, before you begin counting your coins, you go for a stroll. You walk over to the pond where your goose that lays golden eggs lives. You like to collect her eggs and then mint them into coins so that you have even more to count. But today she isn’t there. You let that lad with the twitchy eyes go, and now your golden goose is missing! You put one and one together: Jack stole your goose.

  To go looking for Jack, press here.

  To ask your wife about Jack, press here.

  You storm over to the beanstalk. You wedge your large belly through the chasm and then start shimmying down—down through the clouds, all the way down to Earth. You finally land, panting from the effort, and wonder briefly how you’ll get back up if coming down was that hard. You’ll worry about that later. You see a small cottage that you decide must be Jack’s.

  Jack’s mother steps out the door, having heard the great thud from your arrival.

  “Have you seen my—” you start to say, inquiring about your missing goose. But Jack’s mother interrupts.

  “You! You must be that kind giant!” she gushes. “Thank you for that sack of gold. It was nice of you not to eat my son.”

  “Well, boys are just too scrawny to eat,” you admit. “Not like some other people I know.” Jack’s mother looks up at you, horrified. “Oh, no, no, I don’t like the taste of mothers either,” you say. “They’re… um… too squishy.”

  Just then Jack comes strolling around the house holding your goose in his arms. “Look what I’ve got, Mom!” he says with a smile, which fades when he sees you.

  You are ready to pulverize him, but then you look around. Jack’s house is a run-down shack. The fields look like they haven’t grown a crop in years. And you could probably blow their barn over with one good sneeze. Jack and his mother don’t have much. Maybe you could forgive Jack’s thievery just this once.

  “Where did you get that goose, Jack?” his mother asks. “Should we cook it up for dinner?”

  “No, no! That’s my special goose,” you protest. You shudder at the thought of your golden goose being cooked. “Jack was… watching it for me.”

  “I was?” Jack asks, surprised.

  You lean over and gently take the goose from Jack. With a wink, you say, “And Jack has agreed to work for me.”

  “I have?” Jack asks, still surprised.

  “He has?” Jack’s mother echoes.

  Looking straight at Jack you growl, “Yes, in the garden. For wages. Or maybe you’d rather help my wife… in the kitchen?”

  Jack gulps. “No! Gardening is good!”

  Jack’s mother beams up at you. “You’re such a positive influence on my son. Giving him a job!”

  You smother a laugh when you see the look on Jack’s face. You pull him aside. “Every morning I want to see you trimming back that beanstalk of yours and pulling weeds from my garden,” you say. “If not, I’ll invite myself back… for dinner.”

  You climb back up the beanstalk with your goose. From now on you can spend more time counting and less time weeding. Your bad knees can’t take it anymore.

  THE END

  To follow another path, press here.

  “Fee Fie, oh hon!” you shout. “Have you seen that boy about?” You’re mad. Mad enough to let her cook him in that pot.

  Just then you hear a voice sing out, “Oh no, help! What shall we do? This young lad is stealing from you!” Your magic harp! At bedtime it sings you a lullaby. You can’t fall asleep without it. You catch a glimpse of Jack sprinting by the kitchen door with the whimpering harp calling out again, “Help!”

  You give chase. The boy runs for the beanstalk. He jumps onto it and with the harp wedged under his arm, he begins sliding down it like a fire pole.

  The chasm in the ground isn’t giant size, so it takes you a few minutes to squeeze through. Jack has already disappeared into the clouds, but still you follow. You are about halfway down when the beanstalk shudders.

  Oh no! you think. Someone—Jack!—is chopping it down. And after all you did for that brat!

  The stalk shudders some more, then begins to sway. Suddenly it tips. You are falling, and there’s nothing you can do. You land with an earthshaking thud, leaving a giant-shaped hole in the pasture where Milky White once grazed.

  THE END

  To follow another path, press here.

  You wonder if the stalk might be some new exotic bean plant. You decide to let it grow and see what happens. For now you need to get back to counting. You don’t stop until a loud rumbling comes from your belly. Suppertime! You get up, careful not to bump your desk so the counted stacks don’t spill. You head to the kitchen.

  “Fee Fie, oh hon,” you call out. “Do I smell spuds and a licorice bun?”

  “Ah!” Fee Fie screams, surprised to see you. She slams the lid down on a large black pot. “What? No! You do not smell the blood of an Englishman.”

  You give her an odd look. Fee Fie’s hearing is not what it used to be. “Well, something sure smells good,” you say, sniffing the air.

  To ask Fee Fie to bring you supper, press here.

  To see what’s in the pot, press here.

  To wait for Fee Fie to bring you supper.

  To ask Fee Fie to bring you supper.

  You still have many more coins to count before bed, so you ask Fee Fie to bring your supper to your counting chambers when it’s ready. Then you go back to counting.

  “Seven thousand, two hundred, and eight…” You are exhausted. As you count, you nod off.

  You don’t wake until Fee Fie shouts, “Here you go, Blunderdear!” She sets your food down on the desk. Startled, you leap up from your chair. As you do, you bump your desk. Coins spill, tinkling and chinkling all over the floor.

  “Oh, sorry, Blunniekins,” Fee Fie giggles as she scurries out the door.

  You sigh. It takes you the rest of the night to recount your coins. And when you do finish, you discover that one sack of gold coins is missing.

  To go look for your coins, press here.

  To ask Fee Fie about the missing coins, press here.

  Where could your missing coins be? You never take them out of your counting chamber. You step outside to look. That’s when you see the beanstalk rustling. And you see a boy with your sack of coins crawling down it. “Hey, lad, come back here!” you shout. He ignores you. You run over to the beanstalk and shake it to get his attention. What starts off as a small wiggle sends growing vibrations through the stalk. Soon the stalk is whipping back and forth.

  The boy can’t hold on. He is sent flying one way, your gold the other. “Noooo!” you groan. You hate to lose even a single coin. It messes up your counting.

  Fee Fie appears. “What’s wrong, Blunniebuns?”

  “A boy stole a bag of my gold,” you whine. “And they both fell somewhere down there.”

  “Noooo!” she cries. “I was marinating him for a new recipe!”

  You shrug. At least you won’t be having bony boy for dinner tonight.

  THE END

  To follow another path, press here.

  You storm off to the kitchen, calling, “Fee Fie, some of my coins are missing!”

  “Oh my,” she says, “I hope it wasn’t that boy, Jack,” she mumbles under her breath, but your giant ears hear it.

  “What boy?” you ask.

  “Oh, I confess! I had a boy in my pot,” she explains. “He said he climbed up the beanstalk that sprouted between your petunias.”

  “And where is he now?” you ask, trying not to raise your voice.

  “He was terribly dirty and turning my stew to mud,” Fee Fie says. “I sent him to go wash up.”

 

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