Childhood in The Shire

By: Kari (little took lassie3)

Chapter 4

I was glad that my cousins Frodo and Merry stood at the Great Smials for the rest of the weekend, for I was not allowed to leave home for my lack of being there. Samwise Gamgee stayed too. Because it looked as if it was going to rain, I made the three sleep on the floor of my room. Sam shared with me that when he was little, he feared thunder storms too. I asked him why he didn't anymore.

"Why, I found out it was the rain that made the flowers grow."

I told Sam that was a silly reason to like the rain and Merry scolded me and said that that was impolite. I apologized.

I was awoken from my nightmare that night from a loud boom of thunder. I wailed and Merry came to comfort me, "Shhh, it's alright, Pip."

But it wasn't. My nightmare normally made no sense. I would see the lightening strike, then fire, and what was ablaze and who's voice I heard screaming was not clear. But I knew now. I had thought my dream was a horrible memory, but it was really a horrible future. It was now. I tried to explain what my dream was about to Merry, but I seemed to have forgotten the common language.

"Pippin, calm down," Merry tried to stop my babbling nonsense.

"Merry! It was her!"

"What? Who?"

I looked to Frodo. I must have had a look on my face that suggested what I was thinking, for he guessed correctly, "Cecelia."

I nodded, "Her smial's on fire! It was the lightning!"

"Pip, it was a dream."

"NO!" I shouted at Merry and it startled him immensely. He stared at me for sometime. I started again, "We have to do something! She's in trouble! I know it!"

Though I seemed to have convinced them, there was nothing that we could do. Outdoors, it was now hailing. My father reported to us that the hail was as big as his own fist. He and my mother didn't allow any of us to go to Cecelia's rescue. I didn't understand. If Frodo was truly Cecelia's boyfriend, didn't that mean that he was supposed to save her? Wasn't that the job of the boyfriend? Why wouldn't my parents let us go? Why would they stop Frodo from doing what he was supposed to do? Frodo too had the same questions and my parents said that he was their responsibility, and no nine-year-old child's nightmare was going to risk his life.

But Frodo seemed to believe my nightmare more than anybody else, and he tried numerous times to run out of the hole, my father stopping him each time, "It's too dangerous, Boy."

After a dozen failed attempts at leaving, Frodo gave up. Sam tried to comfort him, as Merry took me back to my room to go back to sleep, "I don't want to sleep, Merry! Cecelia's in trouble!"

"Sorry, Pip, I'm just doing what your parents told me to do."

"Please, Merry! Don't make me go to sleep!"

"I won't. Just lay in bed, Pip. You don't necessarily have to sleep."

Merry was always a genius at outsmarting our parents.

Just as we were about to enter my room, I saw my sisters were awake and talking just outside the door of Pearl's room. "I hope it really is on fire," I heard Pimpernel remark, and my first instinct was to attack her, but Merry held me back, "Just ignore it, Pippin."

"Why are my sisters so mean about Cecelia, Merry?" I asked him as he tucked me into bed.

Merry sighed, "What a question," he paused, "Well, that's just the way girls are. You see, if one lass is prettier than other lasses, then that lass is hated by those other lasses."

"Why? That doesn't make any sense!"

"That's just the way girls are. You're sisters are just jealous. Cecelia is more beautiful than the three of them combined, plus all their dumb friends…" Merry's voice slowly trailed away. He shook his head, ridding of the dreamy expression that was briefly showed, "Er-- Anyway, don't mind them, Pippin. It's just talk. Words can't hurt."

"Yes they can! They can, Merry!" I disagreed. To show what I meant I stood up in bed and pointed at Merry and called him an ugly, dumb, smelly stinker, "See? Didn't that hurt? It would have hurt me!"

"But you mustn't let it, Pippin."

We paused as we heard evil laughter from my sisters. I scowled, "Oh, I'll show them!"

Merry caught me just as I was about to leap off my bed. He laid me down again, "People can say anything they want to, but that doesn't mean those things are true. As long as you know these things aren't true, then there is no need to fuss about them. You're sisters can call Cecelia anything, but you know how she really is. You met her."

"She's really nice, Mer. I don't understand why they talk so cruel. I don't understand why they don't like her."

"Because they never took it upon themselves to meet her. All they saw was a beautiful lass. A threat. An enemy. I know it sounds unfair, but everyone does it."

"I don't."

"I bet you have."

"I'd never be that mean!"

"Everyone has done it. Including you and I. We may not realize it, but we do it. It's awful, I know, but we do it. Why? Well, we're selfish. All we can think about is what makes us happy. What makes us feel good. And if mocking somebody gives us a better respect for ourselves-- we do it."

That whole night was overwhelming. And despite my anger, my bewilderment, and my fear for poor Cecelia's life, I fell asleep. I would only awake in the morning to the more dreadful news that Cecelia was dead.