Chapter 3

Unfortunately, it took most of my two weeks notice to get the details set up.  It wasn’t until the second weekend of October that I could get the records book people there.  I hated that it was a weekend, but hoped the story would still get good play.

I visited with Sarah every day in the meantime, seeing her creep closer and closer to the peak of the barn.  By my math, she wasn’t going to be taller than the barn when the reocrds people got there -- but she would be two days later.

It was Friday, the day before the event.  If anything, Sarah was becoming more lovely and voluptuous with every passing inch -- and she was now growing nearly six inches a day.

It was getting dark.  Sarah, now 49 feet tall, was holding me up to her face, something she was doing more and more often.

“Now, tomorrow’s the big day,” I said.  “After this, we’ll have a consultant in to check out your physique -- your body type -- to see what we can do for clothes for you.”

I looked into Sarah’s massive eyes.  “Are you ready for this?” I asked.

She started to tear up, shaking her head.  “No,” she said, “but we need to.  This place is becoming too tiny -- really tiny.”

“I understand,” I said.  “This is -- no pun intended -- a huge change, and it’s been forced on you to some extent.”

“Yes,” said Sarah, “but God gave me a gift to help get me through this.  He gave me you.”

Sarah kissed me for what was now the second time.  There was no mistaking that her lips were bigger.  While my heart raced with the kiss, this time I didn’t blush.

“Thank you,” Sarah said.

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Now, I think you have some company here.”

Instinctively, Sarah looked to the barn door.  “Mama!  Papa!” she said,, then turned and looked at me.

“With what’s coming tomorrow, I thought you should have some time together tonight.  Your brothers and sisters and their families are on their way, too,” I said.

Sarah’s eyes widened as tears flowed.  We both knew that Sarah’s path meant she would be leaving behind the Amish was of life -- which meant that, after tonight, none of her family could ever have contact with her again.

Sarah lifted me back to her lips.  “You dear, sweet man,” she said, and kissed me again.

As she put me down, I said, “Have a good night.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Yoder stopped me on the way out and took me just outside the barn door.

“I doubt I’ll have time to tell you this tomorrow, but thank you,“ Yoder said.  “You’re taking care of my little girl under extraordinary circumstances.  I’ll probably never get a chance to say it again, but I appreciate it.”

Yoder offered his hand, and I took it.  “Im glad to do it, sir.  It’s an honor,” I said.

“You take good care of her,” he said.

“I can do nothing else,” I said.

Realization seemed to dawn on Yoder.  He suddenly knew why I was doing what I was doing, and he showed it in his expression.  Beaming for the first time since we’d met, he said, “Yes, I believe you will.  You know, I think she may be right about you.  You may just be a gift God has given her.”

“I’m the one who got the gift in her, sir,” I said.  “I just hope to be worthy, and I’ll work to do it.”

He patted my hand, and we parted as he returned to the barn.

The next morning, Sarah was nervous.  She was a few inches taller than the previous night, and was really beginning to feel claustrophobic waiting in a barn in which she could no longer stand up straight.

With no noon noewscasts, we had timed the records person’s visit and media coverage for mid-afternoon.  As I was waiting with Sarah, I could see her height increasing.  She was growing about a quarter of an inch and hour now, and her outfit -- the last made for her by the Amish women -- had gone from a good fit Friday morning to being slightly snug by Saturday afternoon.

The reporters and record book representative were obviously confused on arrival.  I stalled them until everybody I knew was coming was actually there, then made the big announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the biggest person in the world!” I said dramatically.

Crouching into almost a crawl, Sarah emerged from the barn to gasps and frantic alls to their camera people to, “Pan up!  Pan UP!”

As planned, Sarah sat down on the grass, identified herself, spelled her name and explained the situation.  She answered questions until I thought they were getting repetitive.  Then I stepped in.

“Here’s the thing,”  I said.  “Miss Yoder has grown so large that she can  no longer function in the Amish world.  She needs help from the outside for basics like clothing and shelter.  And she is available for interviews and photos.”

While Sarah was getting measured by the records people, I gave out our contact information.

The word came back:  Sarah was now 49 feet, 6 inches tall;  her waist measured 14-foot-10;  her hips, 22-foot-6; and her bustline a whopping 36-foot-8.

Soon everyone was leaving.  The media were going to file their stories.  But I was surprised the records people were leaving so soon.

“But can’t you stay for a few hours?” I asked.  “She is still growing, and it would help to document that.”

Lou Ann, the woman from the records book, looked up at Sarah, who was sitting nearby.  “As big as she is, I believe you,” she said.  “But I’ve got another record to verify in Chicago, and this took so long I’m running late.  I’ll be back in the area Monday.  I’ll measure her then.”

“In the next 48 hours, she’ll grow a full foot,” I said.

Lou Ann looked up at Sarah, who waved.  Then the records book woman leaned in to me and whispered, “Does she know you’re in love with her?”

“Is it that obvious?” I asked.

“From down here, yes,”  Lou Ann answered.  “From up there, who knows?  Look, kid, you’re doing a great job here.  I’ll check with my people, too.  Hang in there.”  And then she left.

Sarah leaned back against the barn.  “I’m glad they’re gone,” she said.

“Me, too,”  I said.  “Still, be ready for it.  Even though I’ve got Sunday marked as a day off for the Sabbath, the national media may try to track us down out here.”

“What about the clothes person?” Sarah asked.

“She’s coming Monday,” I said.

“Will you come to see me tomorrow?” Sarah asked.

“Sure,: I said.  “I’ll be here after church.”

Suddenly Sarah began to sob, and I knew how the White Rabbit felt when confronte3d by Alice’s tears.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m sorry,” the giantess sniffled.  “It’s just that … tomorrow is meeting Sunday and, after today, I can’t go and nobody can come here.  I’m going to be all alone for the morning on meeting Sunday.”

I’m so thick! I thought.  I knew the Amish alternated between a meeting Sunday and a visiting Sunday.  I hadn’t taken Sarah’s needs into account. By tomorrow afternoon she would be a 50-foot woman, and she would be all alone on a day that she shouldn’t be alone.

“Sarah, I’m sorry,” I said, touching her ankle.  “I didn’t think about that.  And I can’t thinbk of any better was to worship tomorrow than here, with you.”

She looked down at me.  “You’d do that for me?”

I’d do anything for you, I thought.  I said, “Gladly.”

Suddenly Sarah caught her breath.  Her cheeks flushed for just a moment.  “Oh, my,” she said.

“What is it?” I asked.

Sarah’s left hand came down to hewr breasts as her right reached down to me.  Her index finger caressed my cheek.  “You’re so much smaller since we met -- to me, anyway,” she said.  “Yet you’ve become the biggest man in my life … In some ways, the biggest man I’ve ever known.”

I shrugged.  “Just doing my job,” I said.

Sarah carefully stretched out on the ground, putting her head on her crossed arms right in front of me.  “No, you’re not,” she said in a tone I’d been longing to hear.  “You’re doing much more.  Why are you doing so much more?”

I looked at the colossal lips, lips that had kissed me now three times.  I yearned to find a way to kiss them that would have meaning.  I walked over to them … and caressed them with my hands.

Sarah closed her eyes, a look of pleasure crossing her face.  Then she opened them again and looked at me.  “Oh,” she said, smiling.  “That’s why.”

“I don’t know all your customs, just some,” I said.  “I don’t know what I can safely do or say.”

“Your touch said it,” Sarah said.  “Your desire to please me said it.  And, the truth is, I started feeling that way toward you by bthe second time we met.”

“I beat you by one day,” I said, holding up my right index finger.

Sarah shifted her right hand free.  Her fingertip caressed my face again.  “Wes,” she said.  “Stay with me this evening.”

“Just for the evening, yes,” I said.

Sarah gingerly scooped me up in her ever-growing hand.  “Now,” she said, We’re going in my barn.  I’m going to lie down on my bed.  First, you’re going to rub my lips, like you did a few moments ago.  Then we’re going to figure out a way to kiss each other at the same time.”

Even if I’d wanted to resist, I couldn’t have.  “Yes, miss,” I said.

I left shortly after 10 p.m. We had kissed and caressed each other’s faces that night -- nothing more.  Nothing more was needed at this stage.

I was at the barn at sunrise Sunday.  Sarah greeted me.  We worshipped together in a makeshift service and spent the rest of the day talking between deals I was forced to negotiate.

At the end of a long day, I went home.  Sarah now stood about as tall as her barn home, and she was still growing.

When Lou Ann arrived mid-morning Monday, Sarah stood 50-foot-2.  Her waist was 15-foot-1, her hips 23 feet even and her bust 37-foot-8.  Everything else on her body had grown by 2 percent in two days, but her breasts had grown just slightly more.

After the measurements, Lou Ann said, “You know, we have records museums in Canada and Florida.  I’ve checked.  We’d be glad to have Sarah there.”

“Maybe after the initial rush,”  I said.  “We’ve got gigs -- paying gigs, which is what she needs right now.  Most are providing her some clothes she can keep.”

“Well, it’s standing offer,” Lou Ann said.  She looked up at Sarah, then pointed to me.  “He’s a cutie, isn’t he?”

Sarah chuckled and nodded.

“She feels the same way you do,” Lou Ann said to me.  “Lucky dog.”

By afternoon, fashion expert Ariadne Wombaugh had arrived to work on determining the clothes that would be most flattering to Sarah’s body type.  I was sent out of the barn for the first part of that process.

While I waited outside, I checked emails and returned phone calls.  In the midst of a lot of junk, there were a few legitimate offers, including one that would potentially make Sarah a superstar.  But it might take her out of her comfort zone, even though it wouldn’t involve what the English call nudity.

Ariadne opened the barn door.  “Wesley, she would like you to come in, please, and I’d like you to see this.”

For an instant I was afraid.  Did they find something that would be a danger to Sarah, something that would be even more dangerous than her condition?

I walked in to see Sarah with her hair down.  It was blonde and straight  and appeared to be growing in the same way as the rest of her body.  It was, as with everything else about her, beautiful.

Her clothes were off -- the first time I’d ever seen Sarah without her Amish clothes -- but she was strategically covered with large pieces of canvas.  Her upper chest was covered, as was her pelvic area.

Sarah tipped her head up.  “Hi, Wes,” she said.

I couldn’t help grinning.  Big as she was, she was cute at that moment.


Ariadne was standing by Sarah’s midsection.  “Here’s what I wanted to show you,”  the stylist said, beaming.  “Look!  Look at these wonderful abs!”

I looked.  There was no doubt about it.  Sarah’s midriff was totally ripped.

“And these magnificent breasts!” Ariadne continued.  She turned to Sarah.  “You say they’re growing faster than the rest of you?”

“Yes,” said Sarah.  “My teats have gone from being almost nothing to things that look like small melons to me, at my size.  And these melons keep growing.”

Ariadne shook her head.  “Wes, this woman would be magnificent, even at normal size.  Her bottom is so petite for her height, her legs are proportionally long and that face!  That hair!  She’s going to be a gem to work with.”

“But, Aridane, she’s growing so fast,” I reminded her.  “Bu this time tomorrow, she’ll be six inches taller.  Soon it will be seven inches a day, then eight.”

Ariadne flapped her hand down and vocalized a “Pfff!” sound.  “Her growth rate is stable, yes?  We can plan for this.  She will look spectacular in almost anything.  I will be glad to work with her.”

I nodded.  “Great!  But I need to talk about an offer with Sarah now, if I may.  This one’s pretty urgent.”

“Of course.  I will make some calls and be right back in,” Ariadne said as she pivoted and left the barn.

Making sure to keep her breasts covered, Sarah sat up.  “What is it, Wes?”

“OK,”  I said.  “We have an offer from the biggest sports magazine in the country.  They do an annual swimsuit issue, and they’ve asked to have you be one of their models.”

“Me?” Sarah asked.

I nodded.  “Even before seeing you abs, there’s no denying you have a body that a lot of men would like to see in a swimsuit. -- and that’s why this magazine sells its swimsuit issue.  Men would be ogling your pictures in swimsuits like the one I showed you on my laptop.”

Sarah tilted her head flirtatiously.  “I don’t think I’d fit them,” she said.

I laughed.  “Obviously, they’d be scaled-up versions,”  I said.  “Actually, Ariadne could help with that.”

“We are paying her, right?” Sarah asked.

I nodded.  But this photo shoot would be a paying gig -- a well-paying gig, especially if you wind up on the cover.  And I would think they’d want you on the cover.

“And the magazine is willing to pay to have you brought to where they’re shooting.  The bad thing is, it’ll either have to be in a train car or the back of a semi trailer.  “You’re too big for any other transport.”

Sarah tilted her head to the right, her loose hair falling over her shoulder sexily.  “What do you think I should do?” she asked.

I took a deep breath, in part because this was the hottest I had ever seen the woman I loved look.  “I think you need to decide,”  I said.  “This would be a lot of money and would get us off to a fantastic start -- and would get you out of the dangers of cold weather.  But it’s a clear break with your Amishness.”

Sarah nodded, causing the golden waterfall of her hair to ripple even in the dim light of the barn.  “Is there anything else that would help us as much as this would?” she asked.

“Frankly, no,” I said.  “Especially not when they see those abs.”

Sarah chuckled.  “Then let’s do it,” she said.

“I’ll get the ball rolling,” I said, starting to turn to leave the barn.

Then a realization struck me and I turned back.  “Sarah,” I said, “Has any man seen your hair before?”

Sarah took a deep breath, making her mounds briefly even more prominent.  Then she shook her head, sending the golden waterfall into ripples.  “You’re the first,” she said.

I knew what that meant.  In the Amish tradition, only one man saw a woman’s hair down without her bonnet.  That man was her husband.

“I’m honored,” I said.  “Are you … sure about this?”

“Yes,” she said.  “Are you?”

My joy bubbled over into a laugh.  “Absolutely!” I said.

“Does that mean --”

“Let me be clear,” I said, getting down on one knee, dirt floor in the barn and all.  “Sarah Yoder, will you marry me?”


She scooped me up and held me to her enormous bosom, still covered by the canvas.  “Oh, yes!  Yes!  Yes!”  Sarah said.  Then she pulled me up to her lips and kissed my face.  I managed to get my lips to her lower lip and kissed back.

She pulled me back.  “I felt that!” she said.  “You kissed my lip and I felt it!”  She hugged me to her cheek.

After the initial fervor of the moment, I asked, “When are we going to do this?”

Suddenly Sarah looked worried.  “It should be soon,”  she said, “before I’m … too big.”

The elation I’d felt earlier was stripped away as my heart sank.  Sarah was right.  If she kept growing, sooner or later she would be too big for us to have any relationship -- and her growth had no end in sight.

“Right,” I said.  “I’ll get some arrangements made.”  I turned to go out to Ariadne, then turned back again.  “Hey, lady,”  I said.  “I love you.”

Sarah bit her lip, then smiled.  “Oh, I love you, too,” she said.

I went out to Ariadne, who had a puzzled look on her face.  “What was going on in there?” she asked.

I gave her a quizzical look.

“A few minutes ago I heard her yell, ‘Yes!  Yes!  Yes!’ very passionately,” Ariadne said.

“Oh! That,” I said.  “We’re engaged.  You heard her answer to the proposal.”

“Congratulations!” Ariadne said.  “Good luck finding a diamond big enough.”

I smiled.  “Fortunately, the Amish don’t do engagement rings,” I said.