Chapter 2

It was a challenge setting up possibilities over the weekend.  By Monday morning, I had my proposal put together.  I drove out to the Yoders’ after calling ahead to Mr. Yoder’s cell number.

When I got there, Sarah was already waiting outside.  The clothes she wore were smaller on her, and she came further up the barn.  She had, indeed, grown more than a foot in height in the last three days.  I got out of may car, carrying a laptop case.

Sarah actually ran toward me, which meant, at her height, that the gap was closed in about five strides.

“Mr. Bell,” Sarah said, beaming down at me, “it’s good to see you.”

“And you, Miss Yoder,” I said.  “How are you feeling?”

“Well,” she said.  “Bigger, but well.  And you?”

“Well as well,” I said. Seeing her father approach, I said, “Howdy, Mr. Yoder.”

“Howdy,” said Yoder.  “You well?”

“I am indeed,” I said.  “And you?”

“Well enough,” he said.  He looked up at Sarah.

“Let’s head to the barn,” she said.  Leaning down, she placed her hands in front of us.  “Would either of you like a ride there?”

While I wanted a ride, I looked to Yoder.  As head of an Amish household, this was his call.

Yoder nodded, a slight smile on his face.  “Go ahead,” he said.  “I’ll catch up.”

I stepped onto a hand that was nearly as long as I was tall.  I smiled up at Sarah.  “Ready when you are,”  I said.

Sarah lifted me up, taking her time so the momentum wouldn’t knock me flat.  She held me up to her shining blue eyes.  As she did, I could see they were slightly larger than three days earlier.

The huge smile grew larger.  “Not a flinch,” she said.  “You trust me.”

“Yes,  I do,”  I said.  “I hope I’m worthy of your trust, too.”

Sarah smiled coyly -- flirtatiously, I thought.  “We’ll see,” she said.  “Let’s go.”  In a few strides she was at the barn door, ducking to get in.

Sarah placed me on the loft, then sat on her mound of straw.  It was even more apparent she was bigger now.  Her head was higher in relation to me, and her top was clearly even tighter.  She was right; her breasts were growing faster than the rest of her.

“So, what’s your proposal?” Sarah asked.

“First things first,” I said. “you’re just under forty-three-foot-eight right now, right?”

Sarah looked to her father, who had just entered the barn.  He apparently had heard the question.  “He’s right,” Yoder said.

“Very good,”  Sarah said, looking at me.  “How did you know?”

“Simple math -- well, maybe not simple math, but easy enough,” I said.  “That confirms your growth rate.”

I took a dep breath.  “Miss Yoder, Mr. Yoder, what I am going to propose is pretty radical, but I’ve used some contacts to put things in place that we can make things happen if you agree.”

“Miss Yoder, you’re going to need a method of getting into the world, and doing it credibly.  I can get a representative of the authoritative book of world records, as well as representatives of the broadcast, print and Internet media, here to verify the situation.  That will be a media event, and one sure to draw international attention to your plight and your message.”

“A media event,” said Yoder, standing like he was saying a bad word.

“But that’s only part of what I’m proposing,”  I said.

“Go on,” Sarah said.

“You’re going to need someone to look out for your interests in the English world,”  I said, “someone who knows the ins and outs of things in the media and can mange how you appear.”

I took another deep breath.  “I’m proposing that person be me.”

“Will your job let you do that?” Sarah asked.

“I would quit my job,” I said. “Working with you and for you would be my job.”

“How would you get  paid?” Yoder asked.

“Once word about Sarah is out, media outlets will be cloring to book her -- and willing to pay to do so,” I said. “I would take a percentage of those fees.  The standrad set up varied from 5 to 20 percent.  The majority of the money will be Miss Yoder’s.

“But there is another consideration.  Aside from leaving the community, some of the offers you would get -- I venture top say, will get -- will involve dressing in ways that are anything but plain.  Some offers might well involve not being dressed at all.

“You would be free to accept or reject any deal.  Personally, I plan to reject any offers involving nudity unless I hear differently from you.  But much of what the English world considers dressed leaves very little to the imagination.”

“Such as?” Sarah asked.

I pulled out the laptop and clicked on an image file.  “This is a bikini swimsuit,”  I said, handing it to Sarah.

The giantess blushed on seeing it.  “Oh, my!” she said.  She looked at her father, who simply shook his head, before handing the laptop back to me.

“As I said, you would be free to accept or reject any offer,” I said.  “My job would be to negotiate the deals and work to get you before people inb a way that presents you and your message most clearly -- as well as aming sure we’re keeping you accommodated.”

Sarah looked down to her father, who was still on the barn floor.  “Papa, what do you think?”

Yoder paused for a moment.  “I don’t like it,” he said, “but I think it may be the best thing we can do for you.”

Sarah nodded, then looked up to me. “Mr. Bell, I would like to hire you,” she said.  “When can you start?”

“Today,” I said.  “I’ll get the arrangements made.  Oh, and people in my position are usually called by their first names by the people they represent, so call me ‘Wesley’ or ‘Wes.’”

“Very well, Wes,”  Sarah said, standing up.  An you can call me Sarah -- is that allowed?”

“It’s not only allowed, it’s common,” I said.  “Thank you, Sarah.”

“Thank you, Wes,” Sarah said.

“I have a contract in the car, if that’s appropriate,” I said.

“It is,” Yoder said.

Sarah carried me to the car.  I got out a contract written in inch-high letters on a roll of newsprint.

Sarah’s jaw dropped.  I can read this,” she said.

“You need to so you can sign it,” I said.

Tears were streaming down Sarah’s face.  “It’s been months since I’ve seen anything with big enough  print for me to read,” she said.

“Well, take your time and read through it,” I said.

After she got through the contract,  I handed Sarah an eighteen-inch-long giant pen.  It looked like a small pencil stub in her hand.  She signed the contract, and I did the same.

“I’ll get things set up and I’ll be in touch,” I said.

Sarah kneeled down beside me, lowering her head near me.  “May I?” she asked.  I couldn’t tell who she was asking.

Yoder nodded. Sarah kissed me with lips as big as my whole head.

“Thank you,” Sarah said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” I said.  “Wait ‘til the event is done first.”  Then  I said my goodbyes.

I didn’t stop blushing until I was everal miles down the road.  My heart raced for a few miles beyond that.