THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING-MY RETURN TO MIDDLE EARTH
Introduction-
It was two years to the day after I had returned from my adventures in Middle Earth and I was beginning to grow despondent. "At this rate, I will never get to show my wife the simplistic beauty of the Shire or the Majesty of the mountains in Middle Earth," I mumbled to myself as I finished uploading the final chapter of a "fanfic" I had written about my journey.
"Babe," my wife walked up behind me, "I know that you are feeling bad about this being the two year anniversary of 'your accident' (as she had begun calling it after Wyatt had been born) and we haven't 'gone to Middle Earth,' but I think that it is high time that you let it go." I knew that she was only trying to be comforting, but I just couldn't handle the way that she said it. Trying my best to appease her, I nodded and said, "You're right. I wanted so badly for it to be real, especially after waking up taller, more fit, and with all of the things that I had on me."
"I have always wondered about that too. I was knocked unconscious by the blast from the living room and woke up fifteen minutes later to find you in the living room with the armor, weapons, jewels, and looking the way that you do now," she replied, "I still can't explain it!" "Neither can I," I tried to smile (looking more like a pained grimace), "Where is Wyatt?"
Lynn, my wife, pointed to our two year-old son's bedroom. She grabbed my arm as I began to go see what Wyatt was up to. Wyatt was a rambunctious boy and was always making noise. If he was quiet he was usually up to something.
"Do you hear that," she whispered. I turned an ear toward his door and heard a gentle sounding woman's voice talking to our son. Being a military veteran and after my experiences in Middle Earth, I went on high alert. "Be quiet and get your P224," I whispered to my wife (referring to one of the conceal carry weapons we owned). I pulled my tactical rifle quietly out of its hiding place and threw the door to Wyatt's room open as I chambered a round.
"Freeze you son of a bitch," I bellowed (my rifle pointed at a woman with long, blonde hair). Wyatt jumped at the sound of my voice, but smiled up at me. "Hi daddy," Wyatt giggled, "This is Gala…Glad…" he tried to say the name as my wife grabbed Wyatt.
The woman turned, smiled, and said; "The time for your return is nigh." I looked from her to my wife and son (who were looking at me). When we all looked back, she was gone.
"I don't know who that was, but if she shows her face here again, I am going to shoot her;" the "Mama Bear" in Lynn coming out. She was visibly shaken, and Wyatt was grinning in a slightly confused manner. After I had made several passes through the house (clearing every single room in military style-our English Bull dog and German shepherd in tow), she had finally calmed down enough to agree to watch a movie with me.
Since Wyatt was our pride and joy, we usually gave in and let him choose the movie. "What'll it be 'Law Man'," I used one of my nicknames for our son (his first name was that of one of my favorite old west figures-Wyatt Earp). "Lord of the Rings," he shouted happily. "Just like his daddy," Lynn chuckled. "Okay lad," I ruffled his hair, "Which one will it be?" "All," he said in a "You should know I want a marathon" tone.
Lynn sighed and said, "Why does that not surprise me?" "Like father, like son," I teased her as she put the Blu-ray disc into the player. We chose the extended cut, subtitled, and turned the lights down as the movie began. As can be expected with any young boy freshly potty-trained, Wyatt was calling for a potty break just as Frodo appeared on screen, reading a book beneath a large tree.
While Wyatt was in the bathroom (Lynn watching him closely after our strange encounter), the screen began to take on a three dimensional look. "Oh. Just great," I thought, "Now you decide to return me with my family." "What was that sweetie," Lynn had heard my distracted mumbling. "Nothing babe, I was just realizing that Wyatt is out of diapers, and now all we have to worry about is the occasional accident. Thank heavens," she bought my story.
"That is true," she continued, "I am going to make some popcorn before we start the movie again." Wyatt crawled into my lap and sat there, bouncing up and down wanting to hear a story about "dorfs" as he called them. Out of the corner of my eye there was a massive flash of light and a scream as Lynn pressed start on the microwave. The last thing that I remember before blacking out was wrapping myself around Wyatt to protect him and thinking, "Here we go again."
