PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

Chapter XXI: Failed Dating Life

I took a sip of my black coffee and watched as Jack settled in the chair opposite mine, holding a mocha frappuccino in one hand and a blueberry muffin in the other. We were sitting at one of the round metal tables on the street outside the Starbucks. I'd wanted to sit outside, hoping that the sounds of traffic and pedestrians would cover up any awkwardness in our conversation. It was spring in Ohio, which meant that the sky was blue and the sun was shining but I still needed a leather jacket.

"I don't know how you can drink that," I said, pulling my jacket closer around me. "It's freezing outside."

"It's the taste that matters," said Jack, taking another sip of his mocha frap.

"No." I shuddered. "I'm a hot drinks on cold days and cold drinks on hot days kind of a woman. Balance is best. Like a balanced breakfast. The most important meal of the day… I really need to stop rambling."

Jack laughed. "You really don't know how to stop talking."

"Not at all."

Jack's smiled faded. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. I leaned forward, trying to figure out what it was. Then, he started to open it, and I saw that it was a list of mythical creatures that I could possibly be.

"Not this again," I groaned. "Really? You're trying so hard."

"I'm trying to figure out how you can teleport," said Jack. His hazel eyes were wide and earnest.

"It's cute," I said. "It's really cute. All right." I leaned back in my chair and sipped my coffee. "Give it to me. What do you think I am?"

"This is embarrassing," muttered Jack. "Okay, first on the list is vampire."

"I want to suck your blood." If I ever tried to suck Thorin's blood, he'd probably murder me. Or better yet, Gandalf would probably zap me into the next life with magic.

"Okay," said Jack, crossing it off the list with a ballpoint pen. "Next is werewolf—which doesn't really make sense since you teleported."

"You got me," I said. "I jumped off the roof, turned into a wolf, sprinted back up the building to the roof, and turned back into the human. All because I wanted to fool you. I'm awesome like that."

"No," said Jack. "I didn't think so." All right. How about a nymph?"

I laughed and clapped my hands together. "Can I be a nymph? That'd be fun. I'll be a sea nymph. Watch me ride the ocean waves—except I'd constantly have the taste of salt in my mouth. That would suck. Okay, I'm not a nymph."

"You're having too much fun with this," muttered Jack. "Next on the list is a fairy."

"Ew," I said. "Fairies are little things that fly around and follow little boys in stupid green outfits. Though I do have the blonde thing going for me."

"Not a fairy," said Jack. "Are you a dwarf?"

Right when he said that, I had taken a sip of coffee. I spat it out all over the table. (Not a good thing to do on a first date, but well…)

"Yes!" I cried. "I want to be a dwarf. Then Thorin can no longer mock me. Can I be was dwarf, please?"

"I'll take it you're not one then."

I practically wilted in disappointment. "But I want to be one."

Jack frowned. "You know dwarves?"

"Oh." My excitement vanished instantly, and it was only then that I realized I might have said too much. "Uh, well, I have an affinity for short people."

"How tall are you?" asked Jack.

I screwed up my face. Throughout high school, I'd hated having to answer that question. I didn't dislike being short anymore, but I hated everyone asking me about my height. "Four-foot-eight."

Jack opened his mouth, and I could see him struggling not to make a comment about how short I was. Finally, he chose to cross "dwarf" off the list and ask, "Are you an elf?"

"What?" I made a face. "Definitely. Pick something else. How did you even go from dwarf—short—to elves?"

"Elves are short," said Jack. "Like Santa's little helpers."

I tried to imagine Legolas or Elrond working as one of Santa's elves. The idea was ridiculous. "They'd be insulted to hear that. Nope. Hate to break it to you, but elves are tall and snobbish though excellent drinkers."

"You know elves?"

"Nope." I silently cursed my stupidity. "I'm just saying. Look it up on the internet."

"It doesn't say elves are good drinkers on the internet."

"You're not looking in the right places."

Jack slurped his drink through the straw. "Suspicious, very suspicious. You know elves and dwarves."

"No, I don't," I said. "I know short people, and I know how to use the internet. It's quite simple really. You just want me to be some magical being so you can say to your friends, 'Hey, guess what, I went on a date with an elf.'"

"What? No." Jack frowned, creases appearing between his eyebrows. "I just want to know how you can teleport."

"I don't teleport."

"Yes, you do," said Jack. "Also, this is not a date."

"Why won't you admit that it's a date?" I pouted a little. "I don't get to go on dates often—let me have this one date to brag about!"

Jack sighed. "Fine. It's a date."

I had to take a long sip of coffee so that my smile didn't scare Jack away. He had no idea how important it was to me that this was a date, how much I needed to prove to myself that I could still be normal.

"Do you do that all the time?" asked Jack.

"What?"

"Finagle guys into taking you on dates."

"Only half the time," I said. "The other times I teleport like boss."

"You just said you didn't teleport."

"I changed my mind. I teleport now. I'm like Superman or— Wait? Does Superman teleport? I don't remember. He's like the superhero of superheroes, so I feel like he should be able to teleport."

"I don't think he teleports," said Jack.

"Wait," I said. "Superman can't teleport., but I can teleport… Awesome, I can compete with Superman on the badass level."

Jack smiled and shook his head. "You are far from badass." He set his coffee cup back down on the table and said, "I'm finished."

"I'm not," I said quickly. I didn't want the date to be over so soon. I wanted to be normal for a little while longer. "I'm savoring it."

"Well, you can take that with you, can't you?" said Jack.

"Why? Is the date over already?"

"No." Jack hesitated. "I was going to see if you watched to catch a movie."

I blinked. Okay, let me just take in the moment. I, a girl who could not hold onto anything long than a minute before she disappeared, was being asked to go see a movie. By a cute guy. My life was complete. Complete, I tell you. First date was a success!

(You can guess where this is headed, can't you?)

So, we left the coffee shop and headed for the theater, which was a few blocks away. We didn't talk all that much as we walked. Or, if we did, I don't remember that much of it. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the possibility of this going well. From the moment Jack had seen me jump off the roof, I'd figured any real chance at a romance with him was gone. I'd even had to plead to get him to call this date. But now, he was the one wanting to see a movie with me. Maybe romance wasn't ruled out at all? Maybe I still had a chance…

"So what movie do you want to see?" asked Jack.

I had no idea. I didn't even know what showing. I spent too much time in another world to keep up with movies.

"You pick," I said, trying to smile flirtatiously.

Jack picked the biggest action movie he could. I swear I just about had a fit just looking at the movie poster, which featured men and guns surrounded by an inferno.

Let me set this straight, I don't like action movies. Yes, I managed to sit through 300; Bonnie liked to make Nick and I watch action movies when it was her turn to pick on movie night. Nick is squeamish when it comes to blood and violence (I'm amazed he survived the goblins), and I just don't like that genre of movie. They were either a) incredible inaccurate or b) too close to my actual life for comfort. Mostly action movies fell into the first category, and I have no appreciation for the inaccurate fight scenes. But then there was the second category…

If I was a sensible person, I would have told Jack that I didn't like action movies and asked him to pick something else. But I took one look at that adorable face and those blue eyes, and I was a goner.

"Sure," I said. "Let's see that."

Jack paid for the tickets and I bought the popcorn; then we headed to the theater to find seats at the back.

"Do you like action movies?" asked Jack. "Or should I have picked the comedy?"

"Oh, um, actions movies are good," I lied. "I mean it gets kind of annoying when they use the swords wrong, and everyone's just so good at fighting. The worst are the fantasy movies. Don't even get me started on the ridiculous dragons in those movies. Totally inaccurate."

"Um." Jack looked at me sidelong. "Most people haven't seen a real dragon. Have you?"

I blinked. "Of course, I have—it's called the internet, a wondrous place of facts and lies. When you go look up elves, look up dragons as well."

Jack was watching me suspiciously, and he probably would have asked me more if, right then, the theater lights hadn't dimmed. Saved by the movie. Breathing a sigh of relief, I reached for a bite of popcorn, but—Skip—I never got it.

My hand reached out and caught hold of a dry, dead bush. I screamed and stumbled backwards. I fell off the rock I was sitting on and landed in on the brittle grass. It was late in the morning, the pale sun high in the sky, and I was in a grassland surrounded by dying trees and dying plants. Everything was browning as if the place had been struck by some disease.

"Great. Just great." Well, this wasn't the movie theater.

I collapsed onto to the ground. And there went my one chance at a successful date. He was going to think I ditched him in the movie theater. Unless I could get back before the movie ended. Maybe he wouldn't realize I was gone… (Yes, I now realize this was a slim hope, but I was desperate and single.) Maybe I could explain to him that I had no control over my "teleporting", but the Skipping still wasn't a part of my life that I wanted to share with just anybody. It'd been hard enough to tell Nick; I didn't think I was ready to explain anything to the next-door neighbor.

After getting to my feet, I looked around the dying landscape. It wasn't a place or time I recognized, and I didn't see any of the Company or the Fellowship. There was no one here I cared to hang out with. So, I set off in search of a cliff or something I could jump off.

But then, I tripped over a hobbit.

"Hey!" I said, picking myself off the ground and brushing dirt off my jeans. "Watch where you're going!"

The hobbit leapt up from his sleeping bag, drawing his dagger. His blue eyes widened in astonishment when he registered my appearance.

"Ana?"

"Frodo?"

I glanced down at Frodo's sleeping blanket and the second blanket next to his. He had set up camp just behind some bushes so that passers-by would not see him unless they practically stepped on him (like me).

"What are you doing here?" asked Frodo.

"You still have to ask that question at this point?" I asked. "I Skipped here." I looked around. "Where is everyone else?"

"Everyone else?" Frodo frowned, and then slow understanding crossed his face. "You were not here for the breaking of the Fellowship."

"The breaking?" I cried. "Whoa, when did this happen?"

"After we left Lothlórien," said Frodo. "Gandalf died and…" Frodo took a deep breath. "I decided that I must go to Mordor without the others. This task was appointed to me, and I cannot expose my friends to the evils of the Ring. I planned to complete the journey on my own, but Sam insisted on coming with me." He smiled at the empty blanket. "He must be off preparing breakfast."

"Good old, Sam," I said. "But still, you broke the Fellowship? Because Gandalf died? But, but, but he came back to life!"

A frown tugged at Frodo's mouth. "Ana, what are you talking about?"

I froze. Should I tell Frodo what had happened? Was he supposed to know Gandalf had come back to life? Who knew?

"Ah, I meant, I'm going to bring Gandalf back to life. You heard me. Before your quest is over, I'm going to bring Gandalf back to life."

Frodo smiled weakly. "You keep working on that, Ana."

"I will. I promise you. It's going to happen."

Frodo did not say anything. I don't think he believed me. Well, I wouldn't really believe me either. Of course, I felt a bit bad for taking credit for Gandalf's resurrection, but, you know, I was intending to bring him back to life before he came back on his own. I'm owed partial credit.

"So, how have you been?" I asked.

"Alive," said Frodo.

"Nasty hobbit, fat hobbit, we curses it, we curses it."

I spun around and saw the most pitiful, ugly creature I could ever imagine. He was nothing more than skin and bones that crawled along the ground on all-fours. His head was bald with a few strands of long, greasy hair hanging down past his pointed chin. Each division of his spine was clear beneath his taut, gray skin, and he wore only a filthy brown loincloth. When he lifted his head, I could see his huge, bulbous gray eyes. He stared at me and then at Frodo and then back to me. His eyes narrowed with distaste and distrust.

"Um, hi," I said, waving.

"What is it, precious?" asked the creature, beginning to circle me. "What is it? Can we eats it, precious? Does it tastes good, precious?"

"Do not eat her, Sméagol," said Frodo. "She is a friend."

"Friends? Sméagol does not have any friends. Is that not right, precious? There is only Sméagol and the precious and the foods."

"Is he all right?" I asked Frodo.

"His name is Sméagol, or Gollum," said Frodo.

"Gollum?" The memory of Bilbo's burglar story was still fresh in my mind. I glanced down at the pitiful creature. "Why is he with you?"

"He is our guide," said Frodo. "He is leading us into Mordor."

I watched Gollum circle me. "Well, that's suspicious."

"Nasty girls, nasty girls," said Gollum. "She suspects poor, innocent Sméagol. What has Sméagol ever done to her? She does not likes Sméagol? Sméagol does not likes her."

"And I've lost nothing," I said, turning back to Frodo. "Where's Sam?"

"He's—"

"Mister Frodo!" Sam came running through the bushes. He was thinner than before, but with the same messy blond hair and chubby cheeks. He stopped when he saw me. "Ana?"

"Hey, Sam," I said. "Long time no see."

"What are you doing here?"

"Me?" I sighed dramatically. "Well, I was in the middle of a date—a great date, mind you. It was going well. And then—poof—I disappeared. God, the guy's going to think I ditched him. My love life is doomed. I had a date with a cute guy and instead I get a date with, with, with, um, that." I nodded my head towards Gollum.

"Stupid girls," muttered Gollum. "She thinks she's so much better than Sméagol. But Sméagol will show her. Yes, Sméagol will shows her, precious. When she sleepsies, Sméagol with find a rock and, and…" Gollum glanced at us suspiciously.

"No, Sméagol," said Frodo. "No, hurting Ana."

Gollum frowned. "Sméagol cannot hurts the nasty girls."

"Great," I muttered. "My life is just a little ray of sunshine."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but we were interrupted by a loud, trumpeting sound.

A still silence fell over us as we turned to see what it was. Frodo started walking towards the noise, and Sam followed, equally as curious. Honestly, my first reaction was to run away from loud noises in the middle of nowhere (loud noises usually meant bad things), but I followed the hobbits despite my better judgment.

Eventually, we entered a thicket of dry, crackling bushes. Crouching down, we moved through the undergrowth until we reached the edge of a cliff. Using the elvish cloaks Frodo and Sam had received during their stay in Lothlórien to conceal us, we lay down on the ground and peered out. I tried to stay as far back from the ledge as possible, trying not to look at the long fall down.

The valley below, I saw, was filled with a marching army. They were not like any people I had seen in Middle Earth before. They were human, judging by their heights and builds; however, they wore leather armor with dark reds and black cloth. Some of them had color face paints, while others had dark tattoos on their arms and legs. There must have been well over a thousand of them, walking together through the dying grassland. They were ready for war with bows and arrows strapped to their backs and swords at their sides.

I gulped. "Where are they headed?"

"I do not know," said Sam.

"You know," I said. "I have advice for this kind of situation."

"What is that?" asked Frodo.

"Get as far away from here as you can as fast as you can."

"That is good advice," said Sam, starting to get to his feet.

"Wait!" Frodo grabbed Sam's wrist. "Look."

Both Sam and I turned to see what had caught Frodo's attention. It was an elephant. Well, it wasn't really an elephant, but when I first saw it, I could have sworn it was an elephant. The creature was about a hundred feet tall with four tusks protruding from its jaw. There was a wooden structure attached to its back that formed platforms where the men could walk about.

"It is an oliphaunt," whispered Sam, incredulously.

"A what?" I asked.

"An oliphaunt," said Frodo. "But I have only ever heard of them in stories."

"You should come to my world," I said. "We have creatures like that. Being very humane people, we keep them locked up in zoos to ogle at." I stared across the valley at the oliphaunt. Despite us being up on a cliff, the oliphaunt's head was still at our eye-level.

An arrow fired.

It flew through the air from a thicket of trees and embedded itself in the head of one of the men on the oliphaunt's back. The man let out a shrill scream before toppling over the edge of the platform and falling—all one hundred feet there was to fall— to the ground. I stared at his broken, bloodied body for a second. My head started to spin, and I had to look away.

A volley of arrows soon followed the first, and a battle broke out between the men and their unseen attackers. Frodo, Sam, and I watched in horror as men fell from the oliphaunt's back, and blood stained the brown grass below.

Then, suddenly realizing the danger we were in, Frodo got to his feet. "We have lingered here too long."

With one last look at the oliphaunt, Sam got to his feet. I started to follow him—and came face to face with the heads of several arrows.

I squeaked and threw my hands in front of my face. "Eat the hobbits and not me. I don't taste good."

Sam sighed. "You have not changed in the slightest, Ana."