Chapter 12. Losers Weepers?

At this point, it might be helpful to remember that Rudivar Bolger (and Took) was a very young tween. His last meal (not counting the handful he’d absently fished out of the sack of supplies he’d brought for Farry and Goldi) had been nearly four hours earlier. Added to the emptiness of his stomach and the accompanying confusion that was increasingly affecting his thoughts (perhaps one of the reasons why tweens are not generally known for clear thinking) was the shock of hearing that the son of the Thain had been injured! And badly enough that his ankle needed splinting and applications of ice!

Indeed, the future looked bleak to him in that moment – if he could even be said to have a future, that is. Such is a common thought for a tween, especially a tween whose stomach is empty, or nearly so. Tweens grow out of their nonsense, of course, once the long-drawn-out tweenish growth-spurt that transforms one from a child into an adult is finished. But alas, poor Rudi... for he was but a young tween at that point in time and was only beginning to learn to cope with the trials inherent to that stage of development. In addition, he’d had no “growing sleep” the previous night, and his weariness was beginning to tell heavily on him.

Thus, when the gammer took him by the arm and began to direct his steps to the smial, making him feel like a prisoner under guard, all thoughts of cantering – or galloping – back to The Green Dragon fled. His mind went blank; he lost all sense of the time, and became the epitome of an “empty-headed tween” and a fair illustration of the byword amongst Shire-folk.

“Auntie” turned her head to address Laurel. ‘Lass! Tie up his pony for him? The poor wee lad is nearly dropping from hunger!’

The thought of Snowfoot broke through Rudi’s misery, and he tried to pull away. ‘I can—’

‘Nonsense!’ the old hobbit contradicted, renewing her grip on him, her strong, wiry fingers digging into his arm like the talons of a bird of prey, strengthening his impression that he was being dragged to his doom. ‘Come along!’

Doom turned out to be the table in the kitchen, where a fresh, bright cloth had been spread, a cosied teapot steamed, and a platter of warm currant scones sent their inviting fragrance into the air.

‘Sit yoursel’ down,’ the gammer ordered, pushing Rudi towards the nearest chair. Once he’d obeyed, she gave a firm nod and then turned to the cupboard to fetch another plate, which she laid on the table before him, along with a knife and teaspoon and an additional mug that she took down from a hook. ‘That’s my Gary’s mug,’ she said as she took her own place at the table and picked up the teapot to pour out. ‘Mind you don’t drop it.’

Rudi hastily put his hands in his lap to avoid coming near the mug. Wondering how he was supposed to drink tea without touching his mug did not occur to him.

Laurel, who’d entered in time to hear the warning, chided gently, ‘O Auntie!’ and swapped the mug at Rudi’s place with the mug at the third place set at the table – her own. ‘I’ll mind Uncle Agaricus’s cup for you; don’t you worry about that.’ She eyed Rudi. ‘His colour’s not all that good. If I didn’t know better, I should think he might be about to faint.’

Rudi stirred. ‘I’m well,’ he protested, blinking.

‘You’ll be well,’ the old gammer said, pouring steaming tea into his mug. Laurel reached over to spoon a double-dollop of honey into Rudi’s mug, stirred vigorously, and added a generous splash of goats’ milk from the pitcher. ‘Now drink your tea!’ Auntie ordered.

Rudi drank his tea. The beverage brought with it a feeling of comforting warmth that spread outward, dissipating a chill he hadn’t known was there. His vision cleared and he suddenly noticed the plate in front of him, holding a scone with butter and jam, and as he looked up, he saw Laurel buttering another, which she then deposited on his plate beside the first. ‘Eat!’ the lass said, sounding almost like an echo of her “Auntie”.

For the next half hour or so, the old hobbit and her young tween helper continued to ply their guest with food and drink, with Laurel alternating between restoring her own energies and nagging Rudi to “have another”!

Rudi was beginning to feel better with the food and kind attention when a sound that came from behind him suddenly had him feeling worse again. He hoped it might be Uncle Bertie, whoever that might be, but it sounded remarkably like his da, clearing his throat.

“Auntie” hopped up from her chair, as spry as a lively cricket. ‘Hullo!’ she chirped in her high, cracked voice. ‘Is there something ye be needin’?’

‘Seems as if I’ve found it,’ came Ferdi’s dry tones from the doorway.

Rudi spun around, nearly falling in his haste. ‘Da!’

As Ferdibrand reached out to steady the lad, “Auntie” was saying, ‘But where are my manners?’ She dropped a creditable courtesy and added, ‘Petunia Sandheaver, at yer service!’

Maintaining his hold on the tween, Ferdi bowed to the old hobbit and answered, ‘Ferdibrand Took. At yours, and your family’s... but it’s rather the other way around, I should think.’

‘This’un belongs to you?’ “Auntie” asked.

‘You might say that,’ Ferdi said. ‘We were supposed to take tea together some time ago, but it appears he had a prior engagement.’

Rudi coloured and opened his mouth to explain, but “Auntie” wasn’t finished.

‘And the children in the byre... are they yours as well?’

Ferdi’s grip on Rudi’s arm tightened, and his eyebrows went up, though he continued to speak in a bland tone. ‘I should say so,’ he said. ‘Though it was my impression that we were not supposed to catch them so early in the game...’

‘The game!’ Laurel said excitedly. ‘Why, that’s what Rudi called it! And what the little lad said they were playing! Some grand version of “I hide and you seek me”! And Rudi, here, said he was watching over them! But I didn’t believe him!’

Watching out for them, actually. Rudi wanted to correct her, but it seemed more prudent to keep his mouth shut.

‘The lad is nothing if not honest,’ Ferdi said, and his tight hold relaxed somewhat, though he guided the youth back to the table and directed him to sit down. ‘Have another cup of tea,’ he murmured.

Rudi passed his hand over his eyes and apologised to all and sundry. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me...’ he began.

‘It might have something to do with no sleep and a great deal of worry,’ Ferdi said, patting his son’s shoulder. ‘But all will be well, lad.’

‘That’s what I’ve been tellin’ him,’ “Auntie” said, moving to take a teacup and saucer from the shelf, as well as another plate. ‘Please,’ she added, ‘join us. I’m afraid we’ve no more mugs...’

‘My mother taught me to use a teacup nearly as well as a mug,’ Ferdi answered with a smile, and the old lady laughed delightedly as she poured out more tea.

Still smiling, the newest arrival lifted an empty chair from its peg on the wall and sat himself down at the table, then accepted the cup and its saucer.

But he lost his smile as Rudi said urgently, ‘But Da, Farry’s been injured!’

‘Young Faramir’s hurt?’ Ferdi put the teacup down on its saucer and half-rose from his chair.

‘Aye,’ Rudi said. At the same time, Laurel was saying, ‘I think he may have broken his ankle. I splinted it, and put a little ice on it – though it will have all melted away by now...’ Auntie Rosemary, Uncle Bertie’s wife had taught her to apply ice in small amounts, let it melt, and then wait some time before applying more, for it could inflict additional injury to leave an ice pack against the skin for too long.

‘But neither of us is a healer,’ “Auntie” put in. ‘The lass simply applied some of the common sense she’s been taught. I was going to send her for the healer just as soon as she’d got some tea and scones in her to speed her on her way.’ She fixed the Thain’s special assistant with a keen glance and said, ‘The children are asleep, and from what I saw of them, they’re likely to stay asleep for a little while yet. Exhausted, they looked, and before falling asleep, they devoured the food my Laurel brought them as if they were starving young wolves!’

‘They walked a long way,’ Ferdi said, sitting back down but not relaxing in his chair. To be polite, he took a scone from the serving plate, buttered it, and took a bite, then picked up his teacup and sipped to wash the morsel down. ‘Mmm, good,’ he said, toasting “Auntie” with his teacup.

‘And now it’s time to bring them home,’ Rudi said. ‘Since Farry’s injured...’

‘But is the game truly finished?’ Ferdi said.

“Auntie” and Laurel stared at him. The lad’s ankle was badly sprained, at the least, and quite possibly broken!

But then, with sudden insight beyond her years, Laurel said slowly, ‘Goldi said that they would go back, “and no one would be the wiser”.’

Rudi drew a sharp breath. Ferdi placed his hand on the lad’s and asked, ‘Goldi said so?’

Laurel nodded firmly. ‘It was the lass who said so! And it wasn’t as if the lad wanted to stay hidden and continue the game... but that he was letting her be the one to decide.’ Her brows knit together, and then her face cleared and she said triumphantly, ‘But she talked as if she were protecting him somehow! She was so worried that he’d be in “awful trouble”!’ And then she added earnestly, ‘Why, I saw tears in her eyes when she pleaded with me not to give them away but to let them hide here until Farry’s ankle was better. And though she turned her head and wiped at her face, she was weeping, I think, when she said she wanted them to go back without anyone getting in trouble! And it seemed to me that her tears were more on his account than her own!’

Ferdi nodded. ‘I see,’ he said very quietly. And then he seemed to look into a far distance, pondering, before returning to the here and now. At last, he added, ‘Then, it seems, they’ve won the game.’ 

He finished his scone in a few more bites, murmured something about it being “delicious”, then drained his teacup and set it precisely on the saucer. After contemplating the cup and saucer for a moment, he held up a restraining hand to prevent “Auntie” from refilling his cup and rose from his chair. ‘If you’ll just take me to them...’ he said.

‘Laurel,’ the old lady said, rising from her chair. ‘Take the hobbit out to the byre.’ As Laurel rose obediently, the old hobbit fixed Rudi with a sharp glance. ‘And ye, lad, are ye feeling more yoursel’?’

‘I’m well,’ Rudi said, hastily standing to his feet.

‘Good!’ “Auntie” said. ‘Then out wit’ ye! For after the washing up, it’s sweepin’ and scrubbin’, and I don’t need you hobbits underfoot and tracking across the wet floor!’

Ferdi picked up his chair and nodded to Rudi to do the same. They hung their chairs up on the waiting pegs on the wall and followed with the other two chairs.

As they turned back to “Auntie” and Laurel, the gammer thanked them for their courtesy.

‘We’re the ones owing thanks,’ Ferdi said with a bow. Rudi hastily offered a bow and thanks of his own, and then Laurel led the two visitors out the door and to the byre where the children were sleeping on a soft bed of hay and blankets.

*** 

That evening over supper, once all the visitors had departed and they had the farm all to themselves again, “Auntie” and Laurel talked about the odd happenings of the day. The old hobbit shook her head over the vagaries of the Tooks. ‘What sort of hobbits play a child’s game in such a far-reaching manner?’ she said. ‘Those Tooks! Practically a law unto themselves!’

‘Well,’ Laurel said thoughtfully. ‘They did keep the Tookland from being overrun by ruffians in Lotho’s time...’

‘Hmmm,’ “Auntie” mused, then nodded. ‘I think you might just have something there, lass...’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘And yet...’ she added. ‘It makes you wonder just what their parents are thinking...’

***