#1 – A Hectic Morning
 

Sam is 4, May 8, Daisy 12, Halfred 15, Hamson 19, Marigold is 8 months and Hamfast is 58. (about 2 ½, 5, 7 ½, 9 ½, 12, 5 months, and 37 in Man years.)

Wedmath, 1384 SR
 

“Give it to me, May!” Daisy shrieked. The girls tore out of their room, May in the lead as she clutched a pink ribbon in her hand. “That’s the ribbon Ma gave me!”

“It is not!” May shot back, ducking behind the rocker in the parlor just in time to avoid getting her hair snatched by her sister. “Cousin Lily gave me this just last week.”

“She did not!”

“Did too!”

“That’s mine!”

“It isn’t!”

“Is too! Daddy, she has my ribbon and she’s going to ruin it!” Daisy called through the humble smial, near to tears as she again attempted to make a lunge for her sister.

May shot away at the last second and scrambled behind the settee. “Tis my ribbon as I got from Cousin Lily,” she insisted, loud enough for Hamfast to hear, wherever he may be. “She gave me it herself. Just ask her.” She pointed her tongue out at Daisy, then had to scramble away again as Daisy attempted to round the settee to get to her.

Halfred strolled down the tunnel to the parlor, a comb halfway through his wet curls and his shirt hanging loose and unbuttoned over his shoulders. He finished combing his hair and leaned against the wall to watch the cat fight. “If you leap over the settee, you’ll get to her right enough,” he supplied to Daisy. “But you have to wait for the proper moment like, so’s you can catch her at unawares.”

Daisy ignored him as she and May continued to dart back and forth on opposite sides of the settee.

“If you see her readying to leap at you, you best be getting down the hall and out the door as best you can,” Halfred now advised May. “Wait till she’s in mid-leap, as she won’t be able to stop herself then.”

“Fred, shut up!” Daisy shouted and stomped her feet in frustration. “I know it’s mine, May. You took it from my box, I saw you. Now give it back!”

“It’s mine and if you lost yours, that’s your pity. You shouldn’t be so careless with Ma’s things,” May said, and tucked the ribbon up her sleeve. It was her ribbon, and she was tired of Daisy always trying to claim her things.

“Feint going right, then jump straight over the middle. That way, you can trap her on the inside of the room,” Halfred called to Daisy from the sidelines. His next piece of advice never passed his lips, as that was the moment Hamson entered the parlor behind him and boxed him hard on the ear.

“Finish your washing up,” Hamson ordered over his brother’s surprised yelp. He was cleaned and groomed, and dressed in his most comfortable work clothes, which is to say, the clothes with the most mends and patches in them. He nudged Halfred back toward the tunnel and called to his sisters, “You best be getting to breakfast, lest you be wanting the switch from Gaffer. He’s near finished with Sammy and Goldie and he’s not in the best of moods.”

“She has me ribbon, the one as Ma gave me,” Daisy cried, not caring about anything else.

“Ma gave you lots of ribbons, and if you want to be keeping any of them, you best be stopping this foolishness,” Hamson said, but not in time. No sooner did he finish his warning than a shout of a more commanding and forceful sort rent through the smial.

“DAISY! MAY!” Hamfast was finished dressing the little ones, and he was ready to deal with the lasses.

Hamson mouthed, “I told you so,” then grabbed Halfred, who was still standing in the doorway watching the scene, and headed for the kitchen. Looked like the lads would be fixing first breakfast again.

They passed their father in the hall, and he wore a face that would curdle new milk. They relieved him of Sam and Marigold, though Hamfast hardly noticed as he thundered down the narrow tunnel toward the parlor. Halfred took Marigold and let her suckle his thumb while he headed for the pantry to fetch a bottle of milk to warm.

Sam raised his hands to Hamson and made grabbing motions, his face tight with worry. “Up,” he requested. Hamson bent down and scooped his brother up, and Sam nuzzled his face into his brother’s shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around Hamson’s neck. Hamson patted Sam’s back reassuringly, just as their father reached the parlor.

“They’ll be all right, Sammy. Right as rain, you just wait and see,” Hamson said, entering the kitchen as the Gaffer’s scolding started in the parlor.

“I don’t be caring whose ribbon it is, or who be getting what from who. I’ll take it away and neither of you will have one, and see how that suits. Just one morning without the two of you harping like a pair of wild wolves – is that too much to be asking?”

“No, Daddy,” the sisters said, cowed for now.

Hamson pulled himself loose of Sam’s grip and plopped his little brother into his high chair as the Gaffer continued his tongue lashing in the parlor. “There you be, lad.”

“It’s loud,” Sam complained and raised his arms hopefully.

“Aye,” Hamson agreed, but turned away from his brother to dig through the larder to find food for first breakfast. “But that’s lasses for you, Sammy. Always loud, if you let them. Don’t be worrit none for them. You know plain as day Dad’ll do them no harm, for all he may want to strangle them ‘bout the neck at times.” Hamson talked as he worked, keeping his voice calm and reassuring, and this assuaged Sam for the moment.

Halfred came out of the pantry then, cold milk bottle in hand, and set about fixing a blaze in the oven, Marigold still drooling happily on his thumb. He awkwardly banked the fire one-handed, then placed the pan on the stove, poured some water from a jug into it and set the bottle standing in the middle. That done, he sat next to Sam at the table, and kept his younger siblings occupied while Hamson prepared first breakfast.

A minute later, the lasses sulked into the kitchen, neither of them looking at the other. Hamson wasted no time in giving his orders. They were running late again this morning, as they always seemed to be doing lately, and they had no time to spare. “Daisy, set the table and come chop up these vegetables as needs it. May, get the little ones things ready for taking to Missus Rumble. You’re to be helping her with her stitching and washing today as she looks after the lot of you.”

May grumbled, but turned about and headed for the nursery to first prepare a bag for the bairn before gathering up Sam’s things. Daisy uttered not a sound, but took the plates and bowls from the cupboard to set the table. Then she started water boiling for washing the dishes later, before taking her place at her eldest brother’s side. Hamfast entered the kitchen then, his arms loaded with firewood, and a pink ribbon sticking out of his shirt pocket.

Sam saw his father and his face lit up into a toothy grin. He raised his arms. “Gaffy. Up, Gaffy,” he chimed.

Hamfast smiled at his youngest son, the frown lines smoothing from his forehead, but he shook his head. “I can’t be carting you ‘round all day, Sammy, and the sooner as you learn that, the better.” He dumped the logs into the wood box and spared a moment to pat Sam on the head as he made his way over to the stove. He checked the bottle, testing the milk on his wrist. Satisfied, he retrieved Marigold to take her into the parlor, to feed her on the rocking chair where Bell always used to feed the others when they were still bairns.

Now free of his sister, Halfred helped Hamson with the rest of the breakfast preparations, and Daisy moved on to crush and strain apples for juice, occasionally cutting off a small piece of fruit for Sam to nibble on. May returned then, two bags prepared with Marigold’s and Sam’s things, as well as a satchel full of yarn and knitting she and Daisy had worked on the previous night to take back to Missus Rumble this morning.

The time passed quietly, everyone concentrating on their own tasks, and if anyone noticed the lingering tension between the two sisters, no one paid it any mind. The lasses would work it out eventually, or Daisy would find her ribbon or May would discover she left hers at the Cottons, and all would be forgiven.

First breakfast was soon finished and on the table, just as Hamfast returned with Marigold, a towel draped over his shoulder as he patted the bairn softly on her back, wincing when she pulled on his curls a bit too enthusiastically. Sam again attempted his request to be held.

“Now, Sammy, I’ll be needing at least one hand to eat with,” Hamfast said gently and took his place at the head of the table. Halfred served him and Sam, and the others all got their own plates.

Daisy sat next to Sam, and helped him eat as she fed herself. She eyed the ribbon still sticking out of her father’s pocket and sighed, knowing it was useless to attempt to get it back now. She’d have words with May over this before the day was done, but she knew it was best to wait until the Gaffer was nowhere about to hear it. She didn’t need anymore trouble than she was already in.

Hamfast turned to his sons. “You’re both to be helping Noakes this morn?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” Halfred answered. “His field needs plowing and digging up. We might get up to the Cottons’ afterwards for a spell. Cousin Tom’s needing strong backs for a barn raising.”

“Just don’t take on more than you can handle,” Hamfast said, “or you’ll be more a burden than a help, and get hurt besides most like.”

“We’ll just be hauling planks about if we go,” Hamson said. Going to the Cottons’ would depend on how long it took them to finish Noakes’ fields. If it took too long, they would make their way to market and find other work there.

“Send word up to Bag End where you’ll be then, if your plans change,” Hamfast ordered.

“We will, sir,” his sons chimed back.

“We will, sir,” Sam repeated from his high chair and splattered his eggs about with his fork. Daisy quickly grabbed the fork away from him before he could make too much of a mess and resumed feeding him until he was full before satisfying her own appetite.

The older lads finished their meal first and started clearing up the dishes and cleaning the kitchen. May finished next and took Marigold from her father, and Sam didn’t waste a second in asking to be held. Hamfast relented then, and took Sam outside with him as he went to greet the day and have a word with Daddy Twofoot and Odo Goodlove down the lane. He needed someone to take his taters into market for him and sell them for a decent price.

Inside, the older children made quick work of the breakfast dishes, and Daisy went to fetch the laundry and help May finish her chores and change the bairn’s soiled napkin. Hamson and Halfred stayed in the kitchen, preparing luncheon boxes for both themselves and their father. The lasses would eat at the Rumbles, but the lads never knew where they might be for luncheon and the Gaffer always took his own meal up to Bag End.

When they finished, they quickly cleaned what small mess they made, and called to their sisters that they were leaving, then headed out the door to start their days. They paused in front of Goodlove’s hole, and handed Hamfast his luncheon before continuing on their way, smiles and cheer on their faces. Hamfast watched them go as he leaned on the fence and spoke business and gossip with his neighbors, Sam bouncing happily on his hip.

Daisy made a quick sweep through the smial, making sure all was tidy as it should be, as May placed the bairn in her buggy carriage, tucking her away safe and tight so she wouldn’t be exposed to the sun’s bright rays. She shouldered her small bag, and Daisy met her and took the bigger burden.

“I know it was mine,” Daisy said, quietly. “I best not see you with any of my other things.”

“Fine then,” May replied. “I best not see you trying to take none of mine either.”

“Like I would want anything of yours.” 

With that, Daisy stepped out of the smial and clicked her way to the garden gate, holding it open for May as she pushed the carriage at a slow but steady pace. A few minutes later, they passed the Goodlove’s, and Hamfast set Sam down with a pat to the head. Sam, however, wasn’t ready to be let down. He hugged onto his father’s legs with an iron grip and buried his face into his father’s trousers.

Hamfast sighed. “Sammy, we can’t be doing this every morning. I’m late enough as it is.”

“Noooo,” Sam wailed, his cry muffled through fabric. His grip tightened. “I come with you.”

“You can’t, lad, and you know it. I can’t be watching over you while I work. Go on with Daisy now, like a big lad.”

“No.” Sam stared up at Hamfast, tears standing in his large, brown eyes, his lower lip quivering. “I want come, Gaffy.”

Daisy finally reached out and plied one of his hands loose from their father’s trousers. She held his hand tight and tugged gently. “Come on, Sammy. Mama Daisy will take care of you.”

“You’re not Ma.”

“I know,” Daisy said, she voice slightly tightened. “But I’ll do the best I can.”

Sam looked down at their joined hands and for a long moment did nothing. Then, reluctantly, he let his father go and let Daisy lead him away, May struggling beside them with the buggy carriage. As they reached the end of the lane, Sam looked back and waved to his father, like he did every morning, and Hamfast had the strangest feeling Sam was preparing never to see him again. For that was how it happened with his mother, just a few short months ago. Seeing Sam standing there, trying to be brave, was always the hardest part of Hamfast’s mornings.

He stood his ground though and let his children go, only lifting his hand to wave back. The distance to the Rumble’s was not great and they would not need to go more than halfway down the Hill to get there. Hamfast watched them with worried eyes until they reached their destination.

“I don’t know how you be managing it, Ham,” Daddy said to him now, and Odo hummed in agreement. “Tis a wild bunch you got there in those two lasses, a hollering near every morning seems like.”

“They’re good girls,” Hamfast said wistfully. He fingered the ribbon tucked away in his pocket, missing his Bell terribly. Had she been here to handle things, it wouldn’t have come to shouting and harsh words, and that was a fact.

“Sammy’s still taking it hard,” Odo stated.

“Didn’t Mr. Baggins say as you could take him to work with you if you needed?” Daddy asked.

“Aye, but I’m not burdening Mr. Bilbo with my affairs. Sam will get along,” Hamfast said, unconvinced even as he said it. He would give it another week or two, and if Sam’s fits didn’t subside, he would speak with Mr. Bilbo about the matter again.

“Well, I’ve business in market meself today,” Odo said, getting back to the matter at hand. “I’ll take your taters for you and not take less than as they’re worth, no charge for it neither.”

“Thank you, Odo,” Hamfast said and nodded to his friends. “I best be going on myself. Mr. Bilbo’ll be waiting, no doubt. Can’t be late again.”

“Nay, you could be late as the cows coming home and he’d not mind none, I reckon,” Daddy said in kindly jest.

Hamfast laughed ruefully and hauled himself off the fence. “He might not mind none, but them gladioli will. Good day to you.”

“Keep yourself well, Ham,” Daddy and Odo said and waved Hamfast off to his day.
 
 
 

GF 6/19/05