Chapter Twelve - Final Adjustments

“Papa?”

Paladin’s consciousness slowly surfaced to daylight. He’d heard a child’s voice call out to him.

“Papa!” This time Pervinca began nudging her father, “Wake up!”

“Wha...?” He lay comfortably upon his stomach with his face turned into the pillow.

“It’s time to milk the cows, papa. May I go out and watch?” The girl leaned in closer to her father’s face to watch his eyelids open, unsure if he was waking up or not.

Paladin had a feeling she was very near. He tried to hide his grin as he snapped open his eyelids and gave a bit of a roar, laughing as the girl jumped back in fright. “What are you doing out of your bed, lass?” The fog was lifting from away from his head.

“I haven’t been sick for two days, papa,” she said, sitting back atop the covers, her hand over her thumping heart. “Pippin, Merry, and Degger are all going out to the barn to milk the cows and I want to sit and watch.”

Paladin knew it was more like she wanted to see if there would be another catastrophe like yesterday morning. “Then why are you holding your slingshot?”

“I was only holding it, is all.”

“Yes, I’m certain of that,” he countered cynically. He breathed in deeply, smelling bacon and bread wafting in from kitchen. “Very well, but you must leave your slingshot in your room, and you mustn’t play on the hay rope, nor jump up and down and tire yourself.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

He smirked, “Sit and watch!” He imagined he had his youngest two children figured out--both had the makings of little terrors, and he was thankful only one was male. He shuddered to think what it would be like to have two little Pippins to raise--three if you count Merry, but Paladin wouldn’t have it any other way. Then he remembered his own father’s words...something about a parent’s revenge. He came out of his musings and smiled at his youngest daughter, “You must leave now, Sweat pea; I need to get up and get dressed.”

After his Pervinca left the room, Paladin drew aside his covers and padded over to the bureau. He looked at his reflection in the glass. What have I done to that lad?, he thought to himself. He cupped his hands, dipping them into the cool water and rinsed his face. Yesterday morning it took Merry almost a half hour to get Degger inside the barn. Apparently the lad had never seen a cow up close--nor pigs, or chickens.

He finished washing up and got dressed for the day. Out in the kitchen Pearl laid a large platters of eggs, bacon, and bread on the table, but curiously, a huge platter of flat-cakes stayed on the counter-board. “Why aren’t you setting out the flat-cakes?”

“Because they’re not fit to eat,” Pearl answered. “I’m making more.”

“How are your flat-cakes unfit to eat, Pearl? Your flat-cakes have always been delicious.” Pearl handed her father a piece of an unfit flat-cake. After just one chew Paladin knew exactly what was unfit about them; they were salty. He quickly washed it down with Pippin’s milk (his tea was still too hot!), making a face at the awful taste.

Pearl elaborated on the cakes, “I sent Degger to the larder to fetch me the sugar, and well...you can taste what he came away with.”

“I’m sorry, Pearl,” he said, though his taste-buds were still recovering from the shock of salt. “You knew he couldn’t read, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I didn’t think there was any harm in sending him for sugar.”

“But if he doesn’t know his letters, Pearl, that means he doesn’t understand the difference between the ‘sugar’ and ‘salt’ labels.” He wiped the milk from his mouth. “I would refrain from sending the lad on any further errands that require reading for a while.”

Just then, Eglantine came through the kitchen door in a huff, followed by Pervinca. “Paladin, that lad is up in the rafters and we can’t talk him down!”

Another disaster! Paladin cringed and put his hands to his eyes, “What happened this time?”

Eglantine hung up her cloak on one of the pegs, “He got too close to the barn cat and it jumped all over him, scratching the boy up, I daresay.” She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down next to her husband. “I knew from the start, Paladin, this lad wasn’t made to live on a farm, and yet he tries so hard.”

Paladin figured the boy to be miserable and he felt responsible. “I’ll go and get him.”

“Degger!” Paladin was in the barn calling up towards the bales of hay. “Come out, son.” No answer. He caught sight of a small shadow away up between two stacks. He climbed up until he was level with the boy. “Degger, breakfast is waiting,” he said.

“Where’s that horrid beast that attacked me?” Degger sat trembling between the bales.

“It wasn’t a beast,” Paladin answered, then added, “well--not in the most practical sense anyway.” He looked about the barn, not seeing the animal. “It was a cat, and she’s not in the barn right now--you’ve scared her away.” He tried to laugh off the boy’s fright, “Come on.” He held out his hand to the lad. “I promise I won’t let her hurt you, but you must come down and eat breakfast.” The boy hesitated, but after several deep breaths, he took Paladin’s hand.

Once Degger was on firm ground, he ventured a question, “Why do you keep such wild animals?”

“Every animal on a farm has a purpose,” Paladin answered. He led Degger back towards the smial. “We raise cows, pigs, and chickens so that we can eat.”

“As long as they stay in the barn and away from me, I s’pose I can live here.”

“I’d like for you to give it a try, if you can.”

Later that same day.....

“Uncle Paladin!” Merry found Paladin repairing the wooden slats of the fence in the back pasture. “Degger’s hiding again, but at least he’s hiding in his room this time.” He stopped and watched his uncle pound in the last nail. “He saw Pim and I preparing a chicken for supper and got sick behind the barn and then ran into the smial. I tried talking to him but he won’t come out.”

“Degger?” Paladin knocked and then opened the door ajar only to see Degger curled up upon his bed. Going in with him was his wife, Eglantine; she, too, was concerned over the lad.

“I want t’go home,” the boy sniffed. “I can’t live here. I tried, but I can’t.”

Paladin sat miserably in a chair and rested his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to say, and yet he wouldn’t dare entertain the idea of taking Degger back to Michel Delving. No; not after all the portents Merry experienced and also witnessing how cruelly treated the children were at the hands of Mr. Thatch. Young Ollie at the Mercantile booth was still clear in his mind as was the grave of a fourteen year old Tad Greenhill--Degger’s own brother.

It was Eglantine who spoke, “Not everyone is suited for farming, Degger, and it’s all right that it’s not for you, either. That’s why we have clothiers, tanners, carpenters and the like. If everyone was a farmer, then who would make the cloth that I sew my son’s breeches with?” She leaned in conspiratorially, “I can tell you, lad, the talent of handling a loom lies with others--not me!” Then she added, “And who would build the table that we eat upon?”

Paladin listened as his beloved soothed the fears of his self-appointed charge. The idea that he had in the cart on their return trip from Michel Delving came back into his thoughts. “Tina, may I discuss something with you--alone?”

Paladin trailed Eglantine into their bedroom and quietly shut the door. “Tina, I think Degger’s having a bit of a problem adjusting to life on a farm.” He saw her raise her eyebrows in response. “All right--he’s having a large problem adjusting.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I was only trying to...I don’t know. I just couldn’t leave him there in that filthy alley. You should’ve seen it; rats and filth everywhere.”

“I don’t doubt you, dear, but did you give it a thought as to how a child raised in a large town would deal with life here?” She sat down next to him, “He misses his home.”

“What home did he have? Living under the eaves of a crate and going for days without a morsel! What kind of life is that for a child?”

“I wasn’t there, Paladin, but I can see that he doesn’t seem to have a life here either,” she replied. “Gracious me, the lad is afraid of the cows and chickens!”

The two were silent for several minutes. Finally Paladin spoke, “I’ve an idea to take him to Great Smials--at least we can keep an eye on him there and he will be treated well. No sleeping alongside with rats, and not taking a bath for weeks. Tooks won’t mistreat him, either.”

“Have you talked about this to him? He’d be a servant, you know.”

“No, not yet,” he said. “He may be frightened of the barn animals, but he’s no stranger to hard work. He used to sweep chimneys before he outgrew them and began working for Thatch--and we all know that Thatch is a ruthless hobbit.” Paladin put his arm around his wife, “I wanted to hear what you had to say on the matter of taking him to the Smials.”

Eglantine hesitated, “I...don’t see anything wrong with it, but I think we ought to ask him. I know of a family in Waymeet that takes in orphaned children. Do you think he’d like it there? Perhaps we should give Degger the choice.”

Paladin smiled, “Agreed--if you are certain this family is willing to take on another child.”

“Why don’t you talk to Cousin Lalia and Ferumbras tomorrow,” offered Eglantine, “and I will find a courier in Tuckborough who will ride to Waymeet and back. Then tomorrow night we shall speak to him, and let him choose, if he wishes. But I do know he’s not happy here with the animals.”

Paladin thought about the young teen in the guest room, “He has taken to the boys, though hasn’t he? Just like a brother to them he is.”

Now Eglantine laughed, “Or...like yet another son, Paladin?” She shook her head, “No, love, lasses rule the roost here!”

Paladin smiled, “Thank you.”

Eglantine was surprised, “For what?”

“For putting up with me bringing home stray children.”

She drew him close and said, “I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Then she kissed him.