Chapter Ten - The Ties That Bind Us

Merry also saw the newly dug grave and sank to his knees. “No...,” He shook his head, “it can’t be. I just saw him yesterday, Uncle Paladin. I spoke to him--or rather he spoke to me.”

Paladin sat down on the ground alongside Merry, Pippin still clinging to his father. They all sat for a long while in silence. Paladin didn’t know what to think...or what to say. He recalled the lad who gave full account of his family’s history the day before...Degger was his name. Why would a young boy say such things? Degger and Merry had never met that he knew of, and had yet to be formally introduced to each other. Still, Paladin couldn’t get young Tad Greenhill out of his mind. He sighed deeply, lightly resting his chin on Pippin’s head as he delved into his innermost thoughts, staring at the grave marker in front of him.

He imagined a slight fourteen-year-old boy having tasks and duties thrust upon his shoulders to be mother, father, and elder brother to a younger sibling. He was responsible to raise the younger one along with being the breadwinner of the family, and all family decisions would be made by him. What was going through this child’s mind during his last days? Were the responsibilities too much for the boy and he gave up, or was it how Degger put it--he simply forgot where he was walking? It seemed a disgrace that no one mourned this boy’s passing. Paladin thought of his own young son now snuggled in his lap. Tears spilled over and ran down his cheeks.

Merry was simply puzzled as to how--and why--a boy who lay cold beneath the ground could walk and talk with him. He had never met this lad, and yet he was in his dream--after he died. Merry decided it wasn’t mere coincidence, but now what was he supposed to do? Presently, he caught the movement of his uncle wiping his eyes. His uncle was weeping. “Are you all right, Uncle Paladin?”

Puffy eyes and pink nose, Paladin replied as he rose to his feet, “We have to find Degger.”

“Who’s Degger?” Merry asked as he stood to his feet.

“He’s the lad from the mercantile who helped to rescue you yesterday.”

Paladin held onto Pippin’s hand as they made their way back down the road past the mill and then onward to the Market Place. They approached the Mercantile booth and almost instantly Ollie was at the front with a wooden object in his hands. Paladin marveled at the craftsmanship of the slingshot. It was made from one single piece of wood with a longish leather strap tied at the two ends of the fork, then filed down to a smooth surface. He held it aloft as he inspected all sides of the toy. “This certainly is a fine example of woodcarving!” He remarked.

Ollie’s face reddened a little, “I....I had a bit of help. We tried to have it done in a hour...and we thinks the hour is up.”

Paladin took out his timepiece and opened the lid. “Indeed it is!”

The second, older lad who was milling about nearby shot a look out to the other lads. Someone obviously had a timepiece of their own.

“Here Ollie,” Paladin handed the teen a few coins, “just as we agreed, and a little something else for your trouble.”

Ollie took one penny and slid the rest back towards Paladin, “Was no trouble at all, sir.”

The older lad rushed over, placed his hands atop the coins and slid them back towards Ollie, “Don’t insult the stranger!”

“But I--” Then Ollie caught the eye of his the older lad, and then replied, “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” Paladin noticed the boy’s hand was trembling as he scooped up the coins into his palm. Paladin figured that somehow Ollie was now in trouble of sorts.

“Tell me Ollie, do you know where another boy by the name of Degger lives?”

“Yes, sir, he--” But Ollie was cut off by his work-mate.

“Sir,” The older lad addressed Paladin, “are ye buying anythin’? Because Ollie has work to do.”

Paladin kept a sharp eye on the other lad, “As a matter of fact I am.” He pulled another coin out of his money purse and held it up, placed it on the board he slid it towards Ollie. “I’m purchasing information--from Ollie.”

While his uncle was speaking to Ollie, Merry had another...feeling come over him; the hair on his head stood on end. He turned round and was staring intently into a dark alley. He tugged on Paladin’s cloak, “Uncle....” he said, eyes still fixed on something unseen, “I know where he lives.”

Paladin looked down at his nephew and saw the strange look on his face. He followed to where the boy’s gaze; a deep alleyway set between two row houses--one house belonging to Mr. Thatch. “How do you know that’s where he lives?”

“I just know.” Merry put one foot in front of the other, slowly walking towards the alley.

As they walked inside the dank alley, Paladin realized it wasn’t as dark as it first appeared from the Mercantile booth. Though the sun was sinking, it hadn’t set yet. Merry stopped beside a small lean-to that was made up of various pieces of wood and the side of an old crate. He crouched down next to it, and in a small voice uttered, “Hullo?”

Initially, Paladin thought only a pile of rags occupied the cradle of the shelter, and that Merry had led them to an empty place. Then suddenly the rags shifted and moved. “Go away--I have no money.”

“I’m not here for any money,” replied Merry. Fact was, Merry himself had no idea why he was here. He only knew he felt drawn to it.

The rags shifted again and fell aside as a small, scruffy figure appeared from underneath, “Then what do ye want?”

“I don’t know, but....” Merry stopped speaking because he simply had no explanation as to why he was here.

Amazed, Paladin found his voice, “You’re the lad, Degger.” Things were getting stranger by the minute while Merry and Degger seemed to be at the center of it. “Tell me, lad, what is your surname?”

Degger rubbed his eyes--why were these well-to-do strangers talking with him? How did they find him? “Greenhill, sir. Why do ye ask? Am I in trouble?”

Paladin gave a smile to ease the boy, “No, Degger, you’re not in any trouble.” He felt Pippin patting him on his hip trying for his attention.

Pippin whispered, “Papa, that mean lad fired Degger yesterday when he helped me.”

“Did he now?” Paladin crouched down next to Merry to face the homeless child. He saw in the growing lantern light from the street the tear-stained and gaunt face of a very frightened boy. “When was the last time you had anything to eat, son?”

It had been a long time since anyone had been kind to him so Degger really didn’t know what to make of these strangers. What was their purpose? The one person who would know what to do....was gone. He sat as he did the night before with legs drawn up and arms wrapped about his knees. He put up a brave face, “I ate yesterday morn.”

Paladin noticed something on the lad’s arm that he didn’t see yesterday. “How did you get this?” It was a long, pinkish-red scar that went from his elbow down to his wrist.

“I fell when I was sweepin’ out a chimney.” Then he added, “My brother gave me his last two pennies to bandage it up--before he died.”

Instantly, a flood of memories rushed into Merry’s head; of Pippin lying next to him in this same crate--holding filthy rags up against his arm...of himself handing Pippin two coins to purchase bandages from the healer...of running off to work only to be late--and then punished. Then a flashing picture of himself spreading out his arms, soaring high above the town....and then the drop to his--death? The pieces of this very strange riddle were falling together and it frightened him. A distressed Merry scrambled to run out of the alley only for Paladin to grab hold of his arm, holding on to him. His heart pounded inside his chest as he tried to break free, but stopped struggling when he could no longer hold back the tears. He buried his head into his uncle’s cloak and sobbed.

“It’s all right, Merry,” Paladin said softly, holding the lad close. “I don’t understand any of this, either...but...we’re here.”

Degger watched the scene before him with a small amount of interest, but assumed the strangers would eventually turn and go their own way, never to be seen again.

After a few minutes, Paladin let Merry loose and turned once again to Degger. He looked at the lad who now had no one, and yet for some reason was the key to his nephew’s dream. Paladin was curious to see more pieces of the puzzle, and there was only one way to view it. He held out his hand, “Come with us, lad. There’s nothing more for you here.”

Degger’s eyes widened, “Leave? And go where? There’s nothin’ for me no matter where I go.” He looked off into the distance, “My brother lies yonder--I can’t leave him.”

Merry wiped his eyes and sat down next to the boy, “Degger, it’s your brother who wants you to leave. Did you two not discuss it the night before he fell into the hole?”

Degger’s face lost all color; he’d never seen this lad before yesterday, and when he did see him he was unconscious. How did this lad know about that? “Ye’re lyin’!” He yelled, “Ye were eavesdroppin’! It’s not polite to eavesdrop!”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping!” Merry retorted. “I’m only telling you what I know from my dream!”

“Degger,” Paladin interjected, “I can assure you as his uncle, that Merry has never been to Michel Delving before. He’s a Brandybuck from far away in Buckland.”

Degger calmed down some; he’d heard stories about the outlandish Bucklanders beyond in the East Farthing. They actually lived next to a forest that tried to attack them once. Perhaps this stranger-lad had enchanting abilities. All Degger knew was that he was just a simple, insignificant boy amongst these learned hobbits. Yes, Tad did want to leave Michel Delving, and they were supposed to make that decision the night he died. What if he’d made that decision the night before as Tad asked? Would Tad be alive now? Tears fell anew from his eyes in the dim light of the street lanterns, barely touching his cheeks.

At first, Paladin only figured to invite the lad to stay the night at his cousin’s house. But he knew in his heart he couldn’t allow the lad to return to this filthy alley--where his home was. Paladin repeated his offer, “Come with us, Degger. You can always come back to visit.”

Degger looked up at the grown hobbit, “But...my sister! She’s all alone serving the mistress at the Bunce manor. I can’t leave her, either.”

“Yes, you can. Your sister will do well with the Bunces; I know them, and they are a fine family--they will take good care of your sister. Would you like to see her before we leave tomorrow?”

Degger’s face brightened at the prospect of seeing his sister, but then fell again, “I--I can’t. I’m not allowed to see her yet. Not for months.”

Paladin answered, “I think I can persuade them in this circumstance.”

Degger had no words for the stranger; he was astonished, “Ye can do this?” Smiling, Paladin nodded.