Chapter Ten: Eggs

"Before long, my grandmother had painted all the paper we had and was beginning to grow restless again. Déagol, however, had an idea.

"'My oldest sisters do this,' he said, setting down a basket of eggs on the kitchen table. He had just returned from the hen house. I was sitting in the rocking chair by the fire, wrapped in my quilt; it was the first day of November and the weather had suddenly turned cold overnight.

"Déagol took out one egg and held it up so that the blunt end faced him. He picked up a small knife that was lying near the basket and lightly pricked the egg's surface. 'You have to do this part very carefully,' he said. Slowly, he cut out a small circle from the shell.

"'I can't remember where your mother keeps her bowls. Could you get me one, please, dear?' Pleased by the last word, I rose from my seat without hesitation and walked to the cupboard across from the fireplace. 'Thank you,' he said, when I had brought him the bowl, a solid brown one that my father had made.

"He put his lips over the egg's hole and then tilted his head back so that the sharper end of the egg pointed towards the ceiling. I watched with fascination as he slowly sucked out the insides of the egg. After a minute or so he took the shell away from his lips and spat the yolk into the bowl. The yellow center was still intact.

"'The trick is to do it slowly and lightly,' he said, and spat again.

"'And what do you expect us to do with the saliva-covered yolks?' I asked teasingly.

"'You, nothing. I plan to fry this one and eat it. Your grandmother can do what she likes with her yolks. So – ' he held up the egg again ' – once the insides have been sucked out, you rise the egg, outside and inside. Once it dries you can paint on it. My sister Peridot has an entire shelf of them above her bed.'

"'Is she the one who answered the door?' I asked.

"'Yes. I just had a letter from her yesterday.'

"'You know,' I said thoughtfully, staring vaguely at the eggshell, 'the more I think about it, the more it amazes me how I managed to get to your house riding bareback, in the rain, and with only a belt for reins.'

"'People can usually do anything if they absolutely have to,' he said. 'I once dived down to the bottom of the river and came back up, even though I can barely swim.'

"'Why?' I asked.

"For a reason I could not fathom, he looked away from me. 'To rescue something a friend had lost,' he said. Then, suddenly as he had looked down, he looked up. 'Now you try an egg.' He handed me the knife.

"I took it from him, chose an egg, and tentatively pressed the tip on the knife on the shell. A small bit of yolk told me I had pierced the surface. I began to slowly cut a hole, as Déagol had done.

"'That's remarkably good,' said Déagol, leaning over my shoulder, and I realized he was standing right behind me. My blood quickened. 'I must have ruined fifteen before I finally succeeded.'

"I took out the piece of eggshell and set it on the table. 'How exactly do I suck it out?'

"'Slowly. Try to keep your teeth away from the shell. Let your tongue move back to accommodate the center of the yolk.' I looked at the egg and back at him. 'Go on, try it.'

"As he had done, I put my lips around the hole and then tipped my head back. At first nothing came out; I brushed my tongue against the shell and found that that large yellow part was blocking the opening. I sucked harder. The egg broke and all of the yolk rushed into my mouth. I gagged and grasped for the bowl.

"'All right, spit it out,' said Déagol, hastily pushing the bowl towards me and speaking the way he did when something was wrong: brusque and hurried.

"I gagged again and then spat into the bowl. 'Spit as many times as you need to,' said Déagol. One of his hands was rubbing up and down my spine. He was still standing behind me.

"'It can be a bit hard to do,' he said, his hand stopping between my shoulder blades as I spat again and began to lick my teeth with my tongue. 'Maybe you ought to make the hole bigger.'

"'Maybe,' I said, recovered, and picked up a new egg.

"This time the opening was big enough that I could have stuck my thumb through it. As Déagol watched, I attempted to suck out the yolk once more. This time, I could feel the thick liquid slide easily past my lips. I let my cheeks swell out as the center began to come through. When I had sucked all that there was, I took the shell away from my lips and expelled the contents.

"'I'm impressed,' said Déagol. I smiled and blushed.

"'Sméagol!' exclaimed a voice from behind me. I spun around to face my mother. Her hands were on her hips. 'Is that a chicken egg?'

"'Yes,' I said.

"'I don't want you using those. The rest of the family might like to eat some too, you know.'

"'I'm sorry,' said Déagol. 'It was my idea.'

"'Oh!' she said, and looked flustered. 'I'm sorry, I – '

"'No, you're right. I should have asked permission first.'

"Once he had explained, my mother decided that the rest of the family could live with less eggs than usual, provided that it would help my grandmother. We received permission to take half of what the chickens laid each day.

"'I think you're becoming her favorite child,' I said to Déagol once my mother had left.

"He laughed, the first time I had ever seen him do so. It was even more beautiful than his smile. 'No, they're just worried about Mistress Violet. And a good thing for you, too – otherwise, if you wanted eggs, you might have to do the unthinkable and climb a tree.'

"'I actually climbed trees a great deal when I was younger,' I said. 'I stole eggs too.'

"'Really?'

''Yes. My brothers used to call me Sméagol Bird-Foe.'

"He grinned.

"'I don't know why I stopped,' I said. 'I guess I just began to prefer the ground to the sky. Déagol?'

"'Yes?'

"'I – I'm glad you're here.

"He rested one hand on my shoulder and smiled, the sad sort of smile he sometimes had. 'So am I, my dear. So am I.'"