"Bet I can knock his head! I can always get the Twofoot cow when I aim for it, and these rocks are better than the loam over that way."
"Don't, Basil, leave it. He's sick, I'll go get someone."
"He's not sick, he's cracked. They should lock him up. I heard that he eats meat while it's still raw and bloody."
Adair Digg-Tooter looked up at his older brother in terror. "He wouldn't... hurt anyone, would he?"
"Look for yourself." Basil shifted over so that Adair could get a better view of the glade, just outside their hiding place in a blackberry thicket at the top of a long shallow incline.
Mr Baggins from up on the Hill was crouched in the gnarled roots of one of the oldest trees in the whole Shire, rotten and rambling enough in shape and too isolated to be of interest to ruffians and rebuilders alike. He was rocking back and forth, curled in on himself, muttering.
"What are you boys doing?"
Adair jumped at the voice, and was relieved to see that Basil did too. It was awful when Basil called him scaredy, but he couldn't very well if he was scared just the same.
"Oh, Aster, it's just you. You gave me a nasty shock. Stupid nosy know-it-all."
"Shut it, Basil, or I'll -"
Adair sighed. Bicker bicker bicker, Aster and Basil were like snickety old hens together. It was nice to see their sister with a bit of backbone, though. Not so long ago she'd been wilting and shy and jumped if a frog ribbitted loudly, but it did get tiresome how they fought.
"Quiet, both of you, get down! 'E's heard us!" Adair hissed suddenly in terror.
Aster took one look at the scene below and carefully pushed through the thick leaves and thorns of the blackberry bush and was striding towards the tree before the boys could stop her.
"Mr. Baggins, what're you doing out here without your cloak on? You'll catch a sniffle, sir," Aster said politely.
Adair could barely hear his low answer and it made no sense. "Young Rosie was singing again this forenoon, when she came in from haymaking. I could smell him on her, you know. Sam. They'd been kissing again. They think I don't know, but I can smell it. But they can't..." Mr Baggins' voice twisted up into a plaintive shriek. "Can't. Mine!"
Adair gawped at his sister as she sat primly down on a tree root directly in front of Mad Baggins and folded her hands in her lap. "Basil! Go sit with her while I get some help from up the Hill!" Adair started to crawl away.
"You sit with her if you're as stupid as she is." Basil snorted and began to crawl away, too.
Adair stopped. "Fine! I'll stay with her while you go up the Hill."
"Don't tell me what to do, brat!" Basil shouted and Mr. Baggins stood up. His wild eyes scanned the blackberry bushes and Adair and Basil froze in horror. Mad Baggins was too tall. Too thin. Too white. Too crazy. Basil shot to his feet and ran for home, Adair hissing his name in vain. Aster reached out a gentle hand and tugged on the lunatic's sleeve.
"It's only my brothers. Adair and Basil. Well, just Adair now." She glared after the cowardly Basil as he disappeared over the horizon. Adair stood up, slowly, his heart felt like it was beating inside his head, crowding his brain, and he bowed. "Here he is." Those large, haunted eyes held no recognition whatsoever and Adair gulped. Mr. Baggins was a gentle, funny, scandalous sort of person and his father and both sets of grandparents and all his aunts and uncles disapproved of him but highly respected him all the same. He told the most wonderful stories.
Mad Baggins was something else entirely.
"Uh...Ahh...Aster...I'm going to go up the Hill now." Adair squeaked. She nodded. "You'll be all right?" Adair whispered. To his immense relief Mad Baggins slumped back against the warped trunk of the tree, then slid down and sat again. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, his hands lifeless on each side of him.
"I'll be fine." Aster whispered back and snuggled down directly next to the crazy to prove it. Mr. Baggins didn't seem to notice. She smiled at her brother fondly and Adair realized that she was proud of him. But she was the one braving Mad Baggins! Adair was suddenly deeply impressed with his sister, a marked contrast to the disgust he felt for his brother. He realized he had put entirely too much stock in the wrong person and smiled back. Then he waved and sprinted away.
Aster watched him go and sighed happily. Her little brother was turning into a good person. She smoothed her dress and looked into Mr. Frodo's face. He seemed asleep. She liked him immensely even if he did get difficult every once in a while. He was a like a big version of Sammie, her favorite person in the world. He had Sammie's humor, Sammie's laugh, Sammie's eyes, Sammie's mouth...
"I wish..." he suddenly said, causing her to jump just a bit. "I wish I could keep what's mine just once in my life." He opened his eyes and his hands slowly closed around empty air. "Everything I have ever loved leaves me." Aster's eyes suddenly smarted with tears. "Sam will leave me. When he and Rosie are married they're going to start a farm. I've heard Farmer Cotton talking about it to Sam's Gaffer. They're both so pleased. They're studying maps...reckoning up costs...Sam is going to leave Bag End." Mr. Frodo's face twisted and he knocked his head back against the trunk. "And he's going to take Rosie with him."
Aster was confused. First he was upset about the two kissing and now he's upset over their getting married. But the Mayor was already married to the Mistress Rose. They weren't going anywhere and they certainly wouldn't leave Mr. Frodo behind. Then Aster understood. Mr. Frodo was trapped in the past. Back in the Old Days when he lived with Mr. Bilbo of Legend in Bag End and the Mayor was their gardener. Back then they were just Sam and Frodo and Rosie. Friends and nothing more.
Aster blinked up at him, surprised. Mr. Frodo had been upset about it? "Are you jealous?" She asked before she could stop herself.
Mr. Frodo slowly smiled. "That's another way of putting it. Yes."
"You shouldn't be jealous." Aster decided to play along. "I think they really like you." She remembered her one glimpse of the big bed in the Bag End master bedroom and went red. "I think they really, REALLY like you."
"No, they don't."
"They do."
"They don't!"
"They DO!"
"THEY DON'T!! They're so wrapped up in each other I could walk up to them with my dripping heart in one hand and a bloody fork in the other and they'd say, 'Oh, hullo, Mr. Frodo, would you like a cup of tea to go with your nice, little snack?'" He pounded his fists into his thighs and gave a strangulated snarl of frustration. Aster was suddenly strongly reminded of Del Grubb, her best girl friend, who would sometimes get up from whatever game she and Sammie and Aster were playing, calmly walk out of the room, scream, and come back as if nothing had happened. What would Del do if she were here now? She would...
She would spin a lie so outrageous..."That's not what I heard." Aster said, a Del-ish look on her face. "You wouldn't believe what I heard!"
Mr. Frodo grabbed the front of her cloak and pulled her close. The wind blew through his wild, dark hair. "What...did you hear?"
What DID I hear?! Aster thought fast. "Well...er...ahem...I heard...OH!" Inspiration! "I heard that the Mis...that Rosie sneaks out at night to watch you swim in The Water."
"What?!" His eyes were huge and unbelieving. Aster nodded frantically.
"Ahem. You skinny-dip in The Water in the middle of the night sometimes because you miss swimming in the Brandywine with all those other Brandybucks. Right?"
"How did you know?" If Aster had had room she would have clapped her hands with glee.
"Everyone knows!" It was true. The Mistress Rose had blushed terribly and laughed when the Mayor told the story of the path she had worn to The Water from the Cotton farm. The Mayor wouldn't have told that story to his older children if he had known that Aster was listening, hidden under the table with Sammie. She wracked her brains for something else she wasn't supposed to know. Oh, YES! The Mistress Rose had countered with THIS story...
"And the Mayor...I mean Sam...he...ah...you know Master Pippin?"
"Eh?" Mr. Frodo looked confused. Confused but hopeful. Aster tapped his hand firmly but politely as she gathered her thoughts together and he let go of her cloak. She smoothed the wrinkles.
"Master Pippin drilled a hole into the wall of the Master Bathroom so he could watch people take baths. The Mah...Sam caught him and kicked him out but...he...uh...didn't repair the hole right away." Aster covered her mouth and tears of hilarious embarrassment leaked from her eyes. "Mis...Rose caught him. She...she asked him if the red birthmark on your rear was still in the shape of a chicken egg or had it gotten more circular? Sam almost died." Unable to contain it Aster let out a yelp at the scandal of it all.
Frodo's mouth hung open and he obviously stopped himself from grasping his backside. "What was Rosie doing in Bag End?"
"Visiting Sam. She asked for a turn but he grabbed her up and took her out. She swears he still hasn't fixed it. I think it's romantic." Frodo drew his arms around himself as if feeling the chill wind for the first time and shook his head. "It's true." Aster asserted. "They've got SUCH a crush!"
Frodo shook his head again. "It doesn't matter, even if it is true. There's no room for me in their life."
"They'll make room if you ask them to."
"No, they won't."
"Yes, they will!"
"No, they WON'T!" They were nose to nose, now, shouting THEY WILL and THEY WON'T and Aster had a serious case of the giggles building up. She did the most outgoing thing she'd ever done in her life and grabbed him by the shirt collar, effectively bringing the shouting match to an end.
"Well, you'll never know unless you ask. I mean you can sit here and be miserable or you can ask. At least you'll know that you tried." Spent of her wisdom, Aster sat back and watched him. Suddenly they were hailed and she turned to see Adair coming back with the Mayor himself. Aster studied Sam to see what it was about him that would make Mr. Frodo so miserable with longing. She decided he had nice hair. And nice hands. And he reminded her of her mother. She smiled at him as he came up, and he winked back at her. Adair stopped next to the blackberry bushes again and seemed relieved to see her whole and alive.
"Now, Frodo, you're chilled right through. Put this on." The Mayor threw a heavy cloak around Mr. Frodo's shoulders and stood him up. Mr. Frodo looked at him suspiciously. "What were you two talkin' about, eh?" He looked at Aster in a friendly way that didn't completely mask his concern. Aster bounced on her toes a couple times to show him she was all right and he grinned at her again. He seemed proud of her.
"Nothing. We didn't talk about nothing. I didn't say anything!" She reassured him. Frodo's mouth twitched. Sam looked at him and Frodo stared innocently back.
"Well, then, let's get you home, Frodo, and into a nice, warm bath." Frodo started and looked back at Aster in shock. She squealed out of sheer mischievous joy and took off running, grabbing Adair by the hand as she went.
Sam watched her go, confused and apprehensive. He turned back to Frodo. "Eh?" Frodo was ill and exhausted but Sam was shocked to see him also...amused.
"I know, Sam."
"You know what?"
Frodo nodded and smiled secretively. "I know."
"Know what?!" They began to walk home and not a single wind-blown leaf could have fit through the space between them. Frodo said nothing but he grinned. Then he snaked an arm around Sam's waist as if he'd never done it before. "Aw, you don't know anything." Sam decided.
"I do, too."
"Do not."
"Do TOO!"
~
Pretty Good Year | email Singe