Hobbits
I was walking in the woods. I've had this dream before many, many times, but this time it was different. I could almost touch the damp branches of the trees, and I could smell the mist in the morning. I remember thinking that it was strange to have such a vivid dream. Anyway, I was walking, wearing my green flannel pajama pants and a blue tank top. The early morning chill settled in my clothes, and the mist made little droplets on my skin. I reached a small clearing in the woods, and decided it was a good place to stop as any. I was tired from walking, although I had never gotten tired when I had this dream before. There was a fallen tree trunk next to a small brook that ran through the clearing. I beside the tree and looked up at the sky and trees.
"Wake up, Mr. Frodo," a voice said suddenly from behind me. I spun around quickly to look at the source of the voice. Peering over the tree trunk, I saw a tiny man, about the size of a child, was standing on the other side of the tree. Another one was lying beside the brook, rubbing his eyes.
"Good morning, Sam. What's for breakfast?" the other one asked, yawning widely. The other one moved over to a small campfire and sat down. He had curly blond hair and a round, simple face. He rummaged around the fire for a while as he gathered some cooking utensils together.
"Well, we have some bacon left over from yesterday . . ." the one called Sam began, looking up at the one called Frodo. Almost by accident, he looked past him and at me. He stood up suddenly, his eyes wide with fear. "We aren't alone!" He exclaimed, pointing at me. The other one turned to look at me then stood up as well.
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you," I said, holding up my hands in a gesture of peace. They looked at me suspiciously, obviously not trusting me. "My name is Jaime," I said, extending one of my hands and standing up. "I'm lost," I added, hoping to make myself sound less dangerous. I knew I didn't look very intimidating. I was soaked by the mist and not very imposing at my five feet and three inches. Then again, it was probably imposing to the tiny men on the other side of the tree trunk.
"I'm Frodo, and this is Sam," the one with curly brown hair and lean figure said, taking my hand and shaking it. He looked at me cautiously, then asked rather slowly, "What is a Man doing in the Shire?"
"I'm sorry, what?" I asked in slight bewilderment. This dream is taking a rather odd turn, I thought. Frodo repeated his question. "Ah, I'm sorry, but I don't quite understand. I was walking through the woods," I said, gesturing to where I had come from, "and the next thing I know is I'm standing here, talking to you two. If you don't mind me asking, what are you, exactly?"
"We're hobbits," Sam said with the air of someone who had been highly insulted. "Halflings," he added, seeing the blank look on my face.
"I'm sorry, I have no clue as to what that is," I admitted. "Perhaps you'd explain to me?" I asked hopefully, climbing over the trunk. They backed away in fear, ready to bolt for the forest. I rolled my eyes. "Oh, stop it," I said irritably. "I'm unarmed, as you can obviously see, and quite clueless as to where I am and what I'm doing here. Now could you kindly explain?"
"Very well," said Frodo, sitting down. "I don't know if it's a good idea, but I trust you." He cleared his throat. "You are currently in the Shire, not far from the town of Hobbiton."
"Wait, what?" I asked in disbelief. "But I live in Boston," I protested.
"I don't know of any Boston, and I don't think that you're anywhere near it anymore," Sam said critically, eying me with some disapproval.
"Well, what am I going to do, then?" I demanded. "I need to get home. I have to go to work tomorrow. I have my sister's birthday party to go to. I can't be here!" I stood up and began pacing back and forth.
"Well, the first thing to do is to get you to a town," Frodo said finally, after some thought. "You should go to Bree with us. Strangers aren't exactly widely accepted in Hobbiton, and I doubt you'll find much help there." He sat down again. "In the meantime, why don't we have breakfast? Won't do us much good if we starve."
"Yes," Sam agreed, looking considerably brighter. "As I was saying, we've got some leftover bacon and tomatoes from last night. No need to waste it, is there?" Sam busied himself with the campfire. He looked up at me, less critically this time. "You can sit down if you want, Jaime. We'll head out in an hour, all right?"
"How long will it take to reach Bree?" I asked grudgingly.
"A few more days, maybe a week," Frodo said, shrugging. He rolled up some blankets and stuffed some things into a pack.
Sighing, I sat down. "Need any help?" I asked half-heartedly.
I was walking in the woods. I've had this dream before many, many times, but this time it was different. I could almost touch the damp branches of the trees, and I could smell the mist in the morning. I remember thinking that it was strange to have such a vivid dream. Anyway, I was walking, wearing my green flannel pajama pants and a blue tank top. The early morning chill settled in my clothes, and the mist made little droplets on my skin. I reached a small clearing in the woods, and decided it was a good place to stop as any. I was tired from walking, although I had never gotten tired when I had this dream before. There was a fallen tree trunk next to a small brook that ran through the clearing. I beside the tree and looked up at the sky and trees.
"Wake up, Mr. Frodo," a voice said suddenly from behind me. I spun around quickly to look at the source of the voice. Peering over the tree trunk, I saw a tiny man, about the size of a child, was standing on the other side of the tree. Another one was lying beside the brook, rubbing his eyes.
"Good morning, Sam. What's for breakfast?" the other one asked, yawning widely. The other one moved over to a small campfire and sat down. He had curly blond hair and a round, simple face. He rummaged around the fire for a while as he gathered some cooking utensils together.
"Well, we have some bacon left over from yesterday . . ." the one called Sam began, looking up at the one called Frodo. Almost by accident, he looked past him and at me. He stood up suddenly, his eyes wide with fear. "We aren't alone!" He exclaimed, pointing at me. The other one turned to look at me then stood up as well.
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you," I said, holding up my hands in a gesture of peace. They looked at me suspiciously, obviously not trusting me. "My name is Jaime," I said, extending one of my hands and standing up. "I'm lost," I added, hoping to make myself sound less dangerous. I knew I didn't look very intimidating. I was soaked by the mist and not very imposing at my five feet and three inches. Then again, it was probably imposing to the tiny men on the other side of the tree trunk.
"I'm Frodo, and this is Sam," the one with curly brown hair and lean figure said, taking my hand and shaking it. He looked at me cautiously, then asked rather slowly, "What is a Man doing in the Shire?"
"I'm sorry, what?" I asked in slight bewilderment. This dream is taking a rather odd turn, I thought. Frodo repeated his question. "Ah, I'm sorry, but I don't quite understand. I was walking through the woods," I said, gesturing to where I had come from, "and the next thing I know is I'm standing here, talking to you two. If you don't mind me asking, what are you, exactly?"
"We're hobbits," Sam said with the air of someone who had been highly insulted. "Halflings," he added, seeing the blank look on my face.
"I'm sorry, I have no clue as to what that is," I admitted. "Perhaps you'd explain to me?" I asked hopefully, climbing over the trunk. They backed away in fear, ready to bolt for the forest. I rolled my eyes. "Oh, stop it," I said irritably. "I'm unarmed, as you can obviously see, and quite clueless as to where I am and what I'm doing here. Now could you kindly explain?"
"Very well," said Frodo, sitting down. "I don't know if it's a good idea, but I trust you." He cleared his throat. "You are currently in the Shire, not far from the town of Hobbiton."
"Wait, what?" I asked in disbelief. "But I live in Boston," I protested.
"I don't know of any Boston, and I don't think that you're anywhere near it anymore," Sam said critically, eying me with some disapproval.
"Well, what am I going to do, then?" I demanded. "I need to get home. I have to go to work tomorrow. I have my sister's birthday party to go to. I can't be here!" I stood up and began pacing back and forth.
"Well, the first thing to do is to get you to a town," Frodo said finally, after some thought. "You should go to Bree with us. Strangers aren't exactly widely accepted in Hobbiton, and I doubt you'll find much help there." He sat down again. "In the meantime, why don't we have breakfast? Won't do us much good if we starve."
"Yes," Sam agreed, looking considerably brighter. "As I was saying, we've got some leftover bacon and tomatoes from last night. No need to waste it, is there?" Sam busied himself with the campfire. He looked up at me, less critically this time. "You can sit down if you want, Jaime. We'll head out in an hour, all right?"
"How long will it take to reach Bree?" I asked grudgingly.
"A few more days, maybe a week," Frodo said, shrugging. He rolled up some blankets and stuffed some things into a pack.
Sighing, I sat down. "Need any help?" I asked half-heartedly.