Note: Merry’s ‘surreal’ experience begins in this chapter. I tried to keep dream from reality separated by asterisks ******, however, I’m not perfect. Pay close attention to the details.

Chapter Five - Only in Dreams

“Pippin?” Merry opened his eyes to utter darkness, except for the bit of daylight coming through the hole in the ground above him.

“Merry!” Pippin yelled down from a blue backdrop of the Overheavens. “I thought you were hurt bad!”

Merry noticed the boy’s face was covered with soot. “No,” He answered, getting up on his feet. “I’m....fine, I think.” Merry felt the lump on the back of his head. “What time is it?”

“Look at the time-piece in your pocket! It’s probably half-past four,” Pippin shouted in reply. “Better get out of there, Merry--Mr. Thatch is on his way to the mill, and I’ve got one more chimney to clean before dark. I’ll get the rope.” Pippin’s head disappeared for a moment.

“Chimney to clean? Since when do you clean chimneys?” Merry reached into his breeches pocket and found the small trinket. It was wrought of finely crafted silver; the cover was missing and the chain was long gone, but Merry...knew it belonged to his father and now to him. His father? He rubbed the sore spot on his head in confusion.

Pippin’s reappeared in the opening and said sadly, “Oh, you’ve hit your head harder than I thought.” He threw down a length of rope that had seen better days, “Hurry up! I tied it to a bush nearby.”

Having used the rope to climb out of the hole, Merry rested upon the tall grasses. What in the world had transpired in the last few minutes so that his cousin was covered head to toe in black soot? “Pippin, how did your face get so filthy?”

Pippin acted as if his feelings were hurt. “I’m sorry, Merry,” he said, “I can’t be as clean as you! It’s not like working at the spotless Mill--the chimneys have a way of leaving a bit of dirt on my face--as I clean them!” He added the last part sarcastically.

Merry looked again at his young cousin. Instead of the dark breeches and waistcoat--and the darling hat he so hated, Pippin wore torn and filthy clothes that closely resembled rags. Most likely due to the rough treatment inside the chimneys he cleaned. Then Merry looked at himself, he was wearing pretty much the same as Pippin before his fall, but now he wore a plain white shirt, with plenty of patches and stitching that showed it’s wear and tear. It was almost too large for him...as also his brown threadbare breeches. They, too, had patches sewn all over.

“Come on, Merry!” Pippin grabbed at Merry’s arm, “Don’t get caught here in the fields! Mr. Thatch will surely fire you!”

“Where’s Uncle Paladin?”

“You’re really starting to frighten me, Merry!” Pippin was getting annoyed. “He died during the winter--remember? We were there at the burial just over there.” He pointed towards the back of the fields they were in. Then he drew close to Merry and said, “He wasn’t our uncle! He was our father!”

Father?, Merry thought to himself. He became incredulous, “He died? How?”

Pippin only turned away and began walking towards the road. Merry grabbed one of his cousin’s arms and pulled him round, “Tell me, Pippin!”

Pippin shook off Merry’s grasp, “I’ll tell you if you stop this madness!”

“Tell me, Pippin. Please!” Merry was so confused he wanted anything to make sense, and so far nothing was making sense.

Pippin looked afar off, his eyes filling with tears. “He died of the sickness this past winter,” he began, “and our sister, Pervinca, also came down with the same fever, but we sneaked her off to the Bunce Estate back then. She’ll work for them for the rest of her life, but at least she’s got better and won’t be sleeping between the houses anymore as we have been.”

“Sleeping between the houses?” Merry looked up one of the alleyways across the road and saw crates and other children moving about inside...accompanied by large rats. He could only imagine the filth that lay about in there.

“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.” Pippin stomped off again.

Merry pinched his own arm. No, not a dream; he felt the pain of the pinch and didn’t wake up. But all of this had to be a dream! Only yesterday he remembered having flatcakes for breakfast--made by his...who was she again?

“Pippin! Wait!” Merry caught up with his cousin, “I work at the mill, right?”

Pippin pointed at the west end of the field, “Over there, since you probably don’t remember that, either!”

“I’m sorry, Pip. I’m not myself right now.”

“That’s easy to see!” Pippin stopped and turned to face Merry, “Tell me, Mer...do you remember that we’re brothers?”

Merry was astonished. “We’re...?”

Now Pippin was genuinely hurt. “You mean...you don’t remember?”

Merry knelt down and took the boy into his arms, “No, but I’m so glad that we are!” He hugged and kissed the boy until he could hear the music of his laughter.

“All right,” Pippin smiled, “Now you’re acting silly!” He laughed as Merry gave him another hug, “You’re forgiven this time! But don’t let it happen again!”

“Never, little brother!” Merry smiled back, “Never.”

*******

“Hurry!” Paladin guided the other hobbits, including his own cousin, Fiodrin, towards the large rock, now resting in the twilight. “The sun is disappearing fast!”

A crew of about twenty hobbits from the area converged near the hole the young Brandybuck fell into. They seemed to have a routine to all of it; ropes, and a litter made of sturdy material were among the tools they’d brought for the rescue.

Fiodrin tied a rope to a lantern and lowered it into the hole, lighting up the entire cavern. Merry lay flat on his back as if merely asleep. “Merry!” Paladin shouted once more. Merry never once stirred.

“Please, Paladin,” said Fiodrin, “as you can see, we’ve done this before.”

“But I just can’t sit by and watch, Fio.”

“I promise you, cousin,” Fiodrin replied, “we’ll have him up and out of there in less than a half-hour.”

Paladin sat down next to Degger, feeling rather miserable. He looked over to the lad and saw that his eyes were glistening with tears. This touched Paladin, but he said nothing. Pippin came and sat on the ground next to his father.

“Is he dead?” Pippin asked.

Paladin’s heart dropped to his toes, “We hope not, Pippin.”

Pippin wiped his nose with his sleeve, “We’re brothers, you know.”

“What are you talking about, son? Merry’s your cousin.”

“No we’re not--we’re brothers.”

Paladin decided to not argue the point--why would he? Oftentimes he saw the young teen as one of his own children. He merely pulled his son closer to him.

“My brother fell into this very hole a couple months ago.”

He and Pippin both turned towards the voice. It was Degger. Something in the boy’s eyes made Paladin ask, “Your brother fell into this same hole?”

Degger nodded, legs drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped about his knees. A reddish light from the lanterns reflected upon his face.

“What happened to him? Is he all right?”

He shook his head slowly, “He died.”

“Where are your parents, lad?”

Degger sighed deeply. “Our mum died years ago in a terrible accident working at the mill when I was a little boy. Our dad died this past winter of the Sickness.” Tears escaped the boy’s eyes and beamed in the light as they ran down his cheeks. “The last time I saw Taddy was when he went off to work at the mill. We was both late for work and I says to him what I always told him ‘fore he went off to work, I says, ‘watch out for the grinding wheel!’--a sort of honor to our mum, though that’s not how she died.” Degger paused for a moment, wiping his eyes, “Tad said he wasn’t gonna work for old Mister Thatch anymore and wanted to leave. I didn’t understand then, but I do now. I used to clean chimneys, and was always lookin’ up to Tad; workin’ at the mill and all. He was always clean while I was always needin’ a bath. Tad was still mournin’ over Dad, and I think he walked into the fields and forgot where he was walkin’.”

Paladin sadly watched the young lad sitting bravely next to him. “How old are you, Degger?”

“I turned thirteen last week.”

“And your brother, Tad?”

“Fourteen.” Degger wiped his eyes again, “He’d be fifteen in July.”

Pippin looked up at his father, “That’s my--and Merry’s birthday!”

“It’s only a coincidence, Pippin,” Paladin replied.

As they spoke, Fiodrin and the others had lowered one hobbit and the litter into the hole, lifted Merry out and then guided the litter onto the ground. Then they lowered the rope again for the rescuer to be pulled out.

“Merry!” Paladin’s attention was once again on his nephew. He bent over the teen to listen for breathing, or even a heartbeat. He looked up at Fiodrin, worry etched in his face, “I can’t hear anything.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not there. Come along, cousin.” Fiodrin gently pulled up on his cousin’s arm, “We’re taking him to my house, and I’ve already sent for the healer.”