27 ~ Troubles

Sam and I stand in the front room of a very dilapidated hole that had once been the home of a family of hobbits with eleven children.

I survey the damaged the Ruffians inflicted on the hole and close my eyes a moment. I hear Sam explaining to Mr. Goodbody that Lobelia Sackville-Baggins died three days ago and left me in charge of her money and Lotho’s with orders to help hobbits hurt or made homeless by the Troubles, as they call it. The Goodbody’s are able to live in their hole, but it is hardly in livable condition.

The children gather around behind their father, staring at Sam and I shyly. I notice the oldest boy standing near the back of the group, his left arm in a sling. I meet his gaze for a moment, then glance away when I see the haunted look in his eyes.

But he keeps looking at me, and steps around his siblings to stand in front of me. He looks about twenty-six years old, but as I look in his eyes again I get the feeling that he understands more than most.

“Are you troubled by what you see?” he asks, watching me sympathetically.

I glance around at the nearly ruined hole, and nod. I turn back to him and ask, “What happened?”

Mr. Goodbody and Sam head toward the kitchen, Mrs. Goodbody and the children following. Mrs. Goodbody turns and gives us a sad smile before closing the door behind her.

“The Ruffians wanted to use our hole like they used Bag End, because it’s in between Hobbiton and the Great Smials,” the boy begins. “They kicked us out, and forced a few of us to work the fields to produce food they kept for themselves. We moved back after your friends kicked them out, but we’ve had no help since.”

I shudder. Why hadn’t I thought to help before? Even Lobelia had thought of it before me.

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Frodo,” he says, reminding me of Sam. “You couldn’t have done anything then anyhow. You were needed in Hobbiton.”

“What’s your name, lad?” I ask, meeting his eye again.

“Ellis,” he replies.

“Ellis,” I repeat. “I gather you were forced to work as well?” I see numerous scars on his face and wonder about the sling on his arm.

He nods as he sits down on the ripped up couch. “They worked us hard. After a while, maybe seven or eight months, they wanted me to work as their servant boy, instead of in the fields. Just before you returned, my older sister died giving birth to her second child, and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything that day, so they beat me. Broke my arm. It didn’t set right when it healed, so now it’s useless.” He laughs a little. “My Da said he’d save to hire me a teacher, though, since I can’t do any manual trade now. I’ve always wanted to learn how to read.”

Suddenly I get an idea. “I can teach you to read for free,” I say. “And write and do sums and anything else you’ll need to know.” After all, I did teach Sam pretty much on my own with little help from Bilbo.

“Would you?” Ellis’ face lights up.

“Yes. I’d be glad to,” I reply.

He throws his good arm around me and hugs me tightly. “Thank you, Mr. Frodo!” he says. “I’d love you to teach me!”

“Then we shall talk with your father as soon as Sam’s done with him.” I gaze at the door to the kitchen.

“My mum probably has something to eat in there. Let’s join them,” Ellis says, taking my hand and leading me into the kitchen where his family and my Sam are gathered around a huge table, eating the food Mrs. Goodbody has prepared.

Ellis takes a seat beside his father and I take the empty chair to Sam’s left.

“What were you talking about?” Sam asks me in a whisper.

“I’ll tell you later,” I reply as he hands me a plate with a few pieces of fruit and a slice of Mrs. Goodbody’s cake on it.

“Eat that,” he says, returning to the conversation he was having with Mr. Goodbody.

A moment later they’ve finished discussing what must be done to make their hole decent to live in again, and Ellis turns to his father.

“Da, Mr. Frodo said he could teach me to read,” he says gently.

Mr. Goodbody turns to me, and I see Sam smile out of the corner of my eye.

“Would you teach him?” he asks, looking at me hopefully.

I nod. “Without charge. If he can find a way to be at Bag End three days a week I’ll teach him,” I say.

Sam takes my maimed hand under the table and squeezes it as we talk about details. I can tell he’s proud of me, and that he noticed I ate everything he put on my plate.

As we ride away Sam asks what Ellis and I had been talking about.

“About what happened to their family,” I reply. “He reminds me of myself as a child,” I say quietly. “He knows the reality of death and evil, yet he is still innocent and pure.”

I don’t miss the reproachful look Sam gives me but I ignore it. He knows what I had implied by that statement.

“I’m glad you said you’d teach him. You need it as much as he does, I think,” Sam says, changing the subject.

I nod. “I just want to help them.”

* * *

I rise the next morning to find Rosie and her twin brother Jolly here talking with Sam about wedding plans.

“Can we have it soon? There’s not much to prepare and there’s no point waitin’ much longer,” Rosie says as I enter the room.

“As soon as you want,” Sam says. “How ‘bout the first of May?”

I sit down at the kitchen table next to him.

“Sound’s fine to me,” Rosie says. She suddenly notices me. “Good morning Mr. Frodo,” she exclaims. “Your trip yesterday must have wore you out. It’s nearly elevenses!”

I nod. “I was very tired.”

“We should have all our plans ready for May first,” Rosie says, informing me on some of the things they were planning.

When Rose and Jolly leave, Sam turns to me and says, “Frodo, I was wondering…” he hesitates a moment.

“What, Sam?” I ask.

“Well, you know as how the groom should have one of his brothers standing with him in the ceremony? I was wondering if you’d do it for me instead of Ham or Hal.”

I smile. “Why, of course, Sam,” I say. “But,” I add. “What will your brothers say?”

Sam shook his head. “They don’t mind,” he says. “I’ve never been as close with them as I have with you, and they understand that.”

“Then yes, I will,” I say.