Chapter Nine - Under His Wings

Paladin lay on his back in the shade of a tree gazing up at the clear blue sky. He watched as a few puffs of white clouds floated towards the horizon of tall grasses. He smiled to himself as he filled his lungs with the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle that played upon the breeze. With all the responsibilities of being an adult--being a husband and father for the past fifteen or so years--he’d completely forgotten what it was like to be a young boy. It was his little nephew, Merry, who had been reminding him the past several days. After their camp out, Merry asked the following evening if they could go out and catch fire flies, then yesterday they went out climbing trees. Well, Merry did most of the climbing, but he was assisted by his uncle. Today they decided to go fishing. Merry had never been fishing before, while Paladin would go quite often with his own dad when he was young. Never really caught much then--or now, but it was the joy of being with his dad that Paladin remembered the most. Would Merry remember this day years from now?

He opened one eye and lifted his head to check on his nephew. He could see Merry lying on his back not too far from him, hands under his head and one leg crossed over the other just like his uncle. Paladin smiled. “I think we ought to check our lines,” he said, sitting up.

Merry jumped up and ran to where his line was tied to one of the lower branches of one of the trees growing on the stream bank. He shook his head in disappointment as he pulled the fishing line out of the water. “Nothing.”

“Well, I guess that’s to be expected when folks who are fishing take their ease in the soft grass for a while.” Paladin crouched on the bank and pulled up his empty line. He looked at the sky again--this time for a reason. “It’s getting late, Merry. Why don’t we head back home?” He wound up his and Merry’s fishing lines and put them inside his pack.

Merry picked up a few choice rocks to skim across the water. “When I get back home, my dad will take me fishing, too!” he said, swinging his arm out, letting the rock glide over the water’s surface.

Paladin swung his pack over his shoulder, then picked up a few rocks of his own. “He ought to,” he replied, letting a rock fly. “What sort of things do you and your dad do?” Though Paladin already knew what the answer to that question was.

“My dad does lots of things with me.” Came Merry’s answer.

Paladin stopped in his tracks and looked at his nephew, knowing full well that Saradoc had done very little with his son. Then Merry continued, “We visit trolls, and...and go far, far away with Dwarfs, and fight dragons. We’ve even seen a goblin.” Merry stopped talking when he saw his uncle’s face. It looked sad to him. He dropped the rest of his rocks at his feet, looking at the ground.

Paladin stepped over to the small lad and lifted him into his arms and carried him as he started to walk home. Merry was quiet for a while, resting his head on his uncle’s shoulder as he carried him. He did not feel anger or disappointment from his uncle. Just sadness. “I told a lie,” he finally said.

“I know,” answered Paladin softly.

“Are you going to punish me? Mummy makes me stand in the corner.”

“No.” I’d like to punish your father, he thought.

After a minute passed, Merry ventured a question. “Can I come fishing with you again?” he asked.

“You can come fishing with me any time you want, Merry.”

“Uncle Paldin?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I come back and visit you again?”

Paladin gave Merry hug as he carried him. “I’d like that.”

Merry closed his eyes and relaxed. “Me, too.”