Chapter 6

Aimlessly Wandering, Wondering to Myself

The next few years (the Big Man continued. His audience remained riveted to the story, though in the manner of hobbits, while listening, Pippin poured out more wine and Merry refreshed everyone’s plate from the serving plates, for nothing eases a story like good food and drink.) I spent as a wanderer, drifting from village to village, hamlet to hamlet. I have had many trades in my third life, for this is what it was. My first life had been in Gondor, until the time…well…you know what I did. I died that day. And then I was reborn to the Wild Folk, and sent out into the world. That was the end of my second life, and now I was on my third. (He laughed softly at the wonder in his listeners’ faces.) Yes, many might count themselves lucky to live a second life. But let me not digress.

For a while I worked with a blacksmith, and learned much about the care of horses and their trappings. When I moved on, I took work in a vineyard. Those were good years, but always restlessness followed at my heels, and sooner or later I would move on. I continued to speak with the One Light, and grew more and more in the way of self-examination. I was learning how to be anew . I was now Boromir the Traveler.

I had spent my first life acting out a part, like a mummer, without knowing why. I still do not know all the reasons, but I have learned much. I will not trouble your hearts with this, however. Suffice to say that I shed many years worth of sorrow, fear and anger.

I found I was beginning to understand myself in earnest a bit more now, yet still, I knew my path would be a long and hard one before I could find a measure of peace. I took ship, and worked for a time as a common sailor, but found difficult the long stretch of days and weeks at sea, and so I ended that quickly enough. Life at sea was not for me. I love the sea, but upon reflection it was not the right or wisest course to follow. It would have been too easy to just forget myself, and in so doing, lose myself. I did not desire this; I had come too far to do that.

And so I traveled far and wide, and came to know much of the world that I had not seen before, and to see things as the eyes of strangers saw them. That is the most difficult thing I have learned, seeing through the eyes of others, but a skill I highly recommend. I stayed with an old hermit called Galapas for a while. He lived in a cave. We spoke long into the night on matters of the heart and soul, and much I learned from him. He was very old, and I did not wish to leave him, so even when I moved to a nearby hamlet, I would go and visit with him. He was kind and exceedingly wise, and much I know of the One Light, I learned from him. One lesson I treasured above all was learning the way to find communion with Him Who Created All. In this way, I found that all my questions and pleas had been answered, when I had foolishly believed them to be both unaskable and unanswerable, and these I would share with you now. May they serve you all your lives as they have served me.

Here the narrative seemed to end. The hobbits did not stir, staring with wide eyes, taut with anticipation. Boromir looked from one to another, smiled slightly, and closed his eyes. Bowing his head humbly he spoke soft and low these words:

“I asked of the Light strength, that I might achieve,

I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.

I asked for health, that I might do greater things.

I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for great riches, that I might be happy.

I was given poverty, that I might be wise.

I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men,

I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of the Light.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life,

I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.

I received nothing that I asked for - but everything I had hoped for.

Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am, among all men, most richly blessed.”

Boromir raised his head once more, and his friends saw in his face an inner peace. It seemed to Merry and Pippin that Boromir’s spirit glowed within him, lending a kind of inner light and joy. Such a departure this was from the Boromir they had known those many years ago! He was still Boromir, yet now the grim desperation, the worry, weariness and sadness was so much diminished that the pair of hobbits were filled with a kind of wonder. Both of the cousins were filled with questions concerning this change. Had their friend dug deeply into himself and dragged out these worrisome things, as a badger digs out prey? This seemed quite likely. Yet what of other things which could well haunt the big Man? What of his sense of dishonor and shame and treachery which were the scars of the soul left by the Ring? Both Hobbits wanted to ask about these matters, most especially the inquisitive and unquenchable Pippin, though neither would speak of them. They were, after all, Hobbits. They would not make much of these questions lest too much be made of them. Obviously, their friend saw clearly this wonder and the unasked but obvious questions for now he laughed merrily, and it seemed to his friends that Boromir was very young and carefree and yet at once both old and wise. The hobbits found his mirth catching, and laughed a while with their friend. Boromir paused and poured wine for them all, and raising their cups, they drank a silent toast among themselves. After a little while, Boromir sobered, and took up the tale again.

“I learned many things from Galapas. He was as a father to me, a father the likes of which would be a blessing to any man. He was my best and greatest teacher, and I was honored to have him as my Master. In him was the wisdom of many ages.

“He died by our fire one warm summer night. I made his grave, and bid him farewell, and knew we would see each other in the Light. I stayed in the little hamlet for two years at least, though it may have been a little longer. I find that now, I lose track of the weeks and months more easily than I used; it is odd, and I know not why this has happened, but it matters little to me now.

“For every home I had a different name. I did not wish to return to Gondor. My brother, and everyone else for that matter, thought me dead, and so I thought it would be unjust to thrust myself back into all…that. I wanted no more of war or politics. I wanted something quieter and simpler. Besides, had I returned to Gondor, I would have brought a chest full of troubles along with me for my brother and the King to deal with. I knew that many would know of my misdeed, and I did not wish to burden anyone with the problem that the “old” Boromir would represent. I had done a terrible wrong, I had dishonored my country and myself and so I had exiled myself.

“For a time, I worked as a gardener for a wealthy merchant. So often I thought of dear old Sam while I did that! I learned that gardening is a wonderful thing, and that there is great pleasure in watching a thing grow, and that sometimes we must pull out weeds, all the while keeping the soil worked and fed, and that we must prune back certain branches. All I learned in gardening can be applied to the life of a man. There are times and seasons, and ways to cut and prune and shape. There is the seedtime and the harvest, and the time when the soil must rest. There is the sweet springtime and the bitter frost, and then the rebirth. It is little wonder that Sam has his own kind of wisdom, and I hope I shall see him sometime soon. There is much I would say to Sam, much that needs to be said. Moreover, I would wager he could school me more than a little in gardening, for it is a thing I still would pursue.

“But, as I said, always was I restless. I felt I had not found my way just yet, or rather, I think, the Light did not think I had. For I have learned that I can understand if I listen very carefully to what the Light says, speaking to the heart. One need only be willing to listen, and one can hear.

“When next I moved on, I took a job with a merchant as a driver. Now that was an interesting job! Once, I actually made a delivery to Gondor itself. To Gondor! Yes, even unto Minas Tirith, itself! It was good to see Gondor coming back into her own, to see the White Tree at the fountain, and best of all to see smiles on the faces of her children, a sight that was once all too rare. I was afraid I would be recognized, and nearly was. But I was known then under the name of Beeman, which I still use today, and I managed to win my way out of it. When I returned I gave my notice. I would not take that chance again.

“After that, I moved further west, and thus, closer to the Westmarch. There was a farmer who had no sons, only daughters, and he needed someone to help him. He offered me a small house and a wage and all the food I could grow in exchange for my labor. I settled in, and there I lived quite happily. He had a daughter, and, well, I loved her! Oh, she was so pretty, pretty and bright as an apple on Midwinter’s Day. And she was so sweet, and, well, we wed. Her name was Ruby, and she had green eyes and hair of gold, and a voice like a little bell. She was my first real love. Ah, what a memory!

“My happiness, however, did not last, for she died in childbirth and the babe with her. He…he was a little boy child. I – I named him Faramir.”

Boromir glanced once more skyward, his eyes filled with sorrow unspoken in word, but not in manner. He hung his head, struggling to master himself, and the two Hobbits heard a soft choking sound. The big Man once more rubbed his left arm. Pippin glanced toward the cabin in which his own Faramir lay sleeping, while Merry studied Boromir’s face. His countenance was drawn with grief still keenly felt, as silent tears coursed down the rugged features. Merry placed a hand over Boromir’s hand where it still rested on the left arm of the Man. As Pippin turned his gaze once more to his old friend, he gently brushed Boromir’s hair out of the Man’s face with soft, soothing nonsensical sounds, and Merry could see Boromir’s ashen hue and blue lips – a sure sign the Man’s health was not all it could be.

The three friends sat quietly for some time. Somewhere in the trees a mourning dove cooed and a robin sang, piercing the air with exactly nine perfect notes. At last, Boromir seemed to summon the will to go on. “I was torn to pieces. I thought I would die with them. When I was not working, I sat by their graves and talked to them. I know that they are in the Light, and that I will see them again someday, for part of my very soul went with them. Oh, I am sorry, Merry, do you have another handkerchief?” (here Merry pressed a handkerchief – the same one Pippin had used earlier since no other was at hand – into Boromir’s palm) “Ah, so hard and cruel a thing. I thank you. No, it is only a few little Pippin smudges, it will do just fine. Thank you so much. I am sorry. Ah, me…

“It was two more years before I could think of anything but them, and I knew if I did not move on, I would follow them in death. So, though it pained me to leave their graves, I moved on. I miss them so. I shall never forget…No! I cannot dwell on it! It was too awful.

“I wandered, taking work where I could, and always, I spoke to the Light, and the Light to me. The Light led me down what path it would have me travel, and I follow always in good faith, for the Light has not led me astray. Then one day, I found myself in Bree.

“In Bree! I worked at the livery there for a while, but I longed for more solitude, and when I heard the old beekeeper from these parts had died and none had taken his place in the market, that settled it. So I came to the Old Forest with a few honey-pots, and well…here we are. I knew no one lived here, and so felt I was doing no wrong in making my very first home, belonging to no one but myself, right here. It is humble, but I am more at home here than I have ever felt myself elsewhere, save in the White City itself. I suppose I shall always long in no small measure for the lands from which I sprang; yet I feel I have come home. The Light has led me to stay here, and so I have, and now you have my explanation. I hope that it has satisfied.”