Chapter 2
Turnip Stew
A low flickering of the candle caused Sam to pull away from Frodo's little book and placed it beside him on his bed. Looking at the candle, he noticed that it had burnt down to just melting wax. Opening the drawer to the bedside table, his hand fumbled to find another candle. Sam took out an extra thick candle and lit it against the other, since it burnt too quickly. He knew that he could not put down his master's book, until he had completely finished reading it.
Sam's heart leaped in happiness knowing that Minderrell decided to meet with Frodo. He could not wait to turn the page and read what his master wrote next.
Settling back down in his warm cozy bed, Sam turned the page and began to read once more.
"Frodo, why have you chosen me to write these words of love?" she asked him standing there in front of him.
"How could I not, Minderrell?" he gently spoke to her. "You have touched my heart to where it is not my own anymore. You are in my every thought and in my every dream."
Her eyes raised to where the sound of his voice was coming from and for the first time standing this closely to her, Frodo noticed not only the most beautiful eyes that he had ever looked into, he also saw something else. That she could not see him, she was blind. Her song of the shades of darkness on a cold winter night now made sense to Frodo and why she sang it.
She could sense the despair within Frodo and heard a sigh that took his breath away with his realization of what she could not hide any longer. A sigh that she had recognized growing up from the pity others felt for her. "You can take your pity, Mr. Baggins and cast it to others that may seek it. I have been blind all my life and I can do much for myself."
A smile broke the corners of his lips while he looked upon her lovely face. "It is not pity that I feel for you; it is much deeper feelings that I have, Minderrell. I wish to know all that I can of you. Your blindness is only just one part and not the whole part of you. I sense a spirit in you that no blindness can hinder, a fight in you that will never give up. I see a trust in you that is not easily won, but then forever given. I see a gentle heart that can be broken and yet capable of love. It is not pity, but only of love for you that I feel."
"Your words are what I have longed to hear and it opens my heart to you. You see me fair, Frodo, and not hidden from your view. I can sense within you a quality that is very rare and a richness of spirit that has no end. For you, Frodo, I will trust this love."
She reached her hands up to his face to gently caress his features. She traced a light touch to his brow and down the straightness of his nose and over softly to his eyelids that flickered the feathery texture of his eyelashes. She pressed her hands to his cheeks and touched the soft texture of his curly hair. Her fingers traced down to his lips, touching them softly. Each feature she put to her memory and she smiled in getting to see Frodo for the very first time.
Standing this close to her and while she touched his face, Frodo too was memorizing the loveliest face that his eyes had ever beheld. Her skin appeared soft, pale and flawless and his fingers longed to touch the velvety texture that he saw, but forced his hands to remain at his side. Her thick, black eyelashes fluttered to moisten her eyes from the wind that blew upon them and framed those most magnificent eyes. Eyes that Frodo yearned would look directly into his so she could see the love he had for her. But what possessed Frodo's heart the most were the color of Minderrell's eyes. They were like a valley of crystal-blue diamonds shimmering as if the sunlight cast its brilliance upon it. Her eyes were so unforgettable that it haunted his every thought. But for the darkness that encircled them in the center of her eyes, Frodo saw a deep void, an abyss that could never be reached and it torn and rendered his heart to ache. He took both of her hands from his face and held them gently putting a light kiss upon them. Frodo knew from that moment he would always love Minderrell.
Sam placed Frodo's book to his chest and closed his eyes. In his mind, he thought of Rosie. He knew each line of her delicate face and each wrinkle. He could recall every detail of her features. Her eyes that sparkled just for him each time their eyes would meet; her soft caresses from her gentle hands, her laughter that lightened his heart and her arms that held him. Sam's heart heaved inside of him and the hurt of missing Rosie cascaded throughout him. What Frodo had written in his book about his feelings for Minderrell, Sam knew them also with his wife, for he had loved Rosie with all of his heart. Again Sam forced his thoughts away from his wife which were too painful to recall.
Sam's thoughts turned to Minderrell Maggot. He had met the Maggots many long years ago when Frodo, Merry, Pippin and himself trying to flee the Shire. It was Farmer Maggot that came to their aid. Sam remembered meeting this family, but not anyone called Minderrell. Not even Farmer Maggot gave Frodo any special attention or recognition concerning this delicate matter. But mostly he knew Mr. Frodo and he knew his master's heart. If a love this strong existed with his master, there would have been a marriage and everyone in the Shire would have known about it. This Sam knew about his Master and no one could convince him otherwise, not even Mr. Frodo himself. Something must have happened, something that would have been so ominous to erase this memory from the minds of everyone involved and only left in mention within the tale of this small book. Could it only have been a wishful dream that played within his master's mind, was she truly real?
Sam's eyes returned back to Frodo's book and read on.
Frodo watched her sure steps walking the same familiar path that led to her home, a path that she must have walked a million times throughout her life. Minderrell held Frodo's hand when she led him to the doorway and felt him slightly pull away. Understanding his fear, she quietly announced to him so only he could hear. "My da has gone hunting, Frodo, and will be gone for a few weeks. He has taken his dogs with him. You need not have fear of them, I will keep you safe."
Frodo smiled at her and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "My Mum is in the kitchen cooking her finest turnip stew seasoned with spicy mushrooms. You can smell the seasonings from out here."
Frodo took in a deep sniff and also smelt the wonderful meal being prepared.
When she opened the door to her home and allowed Frodo to enter first ahead of her, she closed the door and stood next to him. A small group of hobbits joined the young couple varying in age.
"Hullo, Frodo Baggins," the older male tween stretched out his hand to greet him. "I'm Minderrell's oldest brother, Napus."
Frodo shook his hand and nodded his greeting to him. He was a bit amazed that they all knew of him since he was not properly introduced to them before. He smiled at Minderrell and knew his name was often spoken about within this family.
"My name is Meadow, Mr. Baggins, Minderrell's sister," and she too shook his hand.
The next eldest of her brothers came forward and reached his hand out to him. "I'm Tabagus,"
A younger lass shyly approached and smiled in her greeting to Frodo. "My name is Bell Morel," and lightly touched his hand and went to stand behind her older sister, Meadow.
Napus Maggot again approached Frodo, "There are two other brothers that are not here, but working the fields with our two-hired lads that live here with us also. You will meet them later in the day."
Minderrell took Frodo's arm and guided him towards the kitchen to meet her mother. Frodo watched her carefully as she skillfully maneuvered around chairs and tables with all sorts of decorative items upon it. There was a large flowerpot sitting upon the floor and she knew just when to sidestep in order not to bump into it. Even though Minderrell was blind, she was very capable within her home that she grew-up in.
Mrs. Maggot stood over her cook stove stirring big pots that boiled and steamed. She was short, chubby type of hobbitess that looked like she had enjoyed her cooking as much as she liked making her meals for her family and her kitchen gave evidence of this. There were short barrels sitting lined up across the tops of her cupboards and filled full of mushrooms, turnips, onions and potatoes. Frodo saw baskets of carrots, tomatoes and rutabagas. She had glass jars of canned jellies, salt pork and numerous other types of canned products. There were fresh breads sitting on thick slaps of bakery boards and a big bowl of churned butter sitting next to them. The strong smell of her spices filled the room and gave promise to family and guest of culinary delight. No stomach ever went empty from Mrs. Maggot's table.
"Minderrell, get yer Mum a jar 'o me best sweet pickles and put'em in a serv'n bowl," she asked over her shoulder while she stirred her big pot of turnip stew. "Mr. Baggins, me wash tub is over 'ere, clean yer hands good and proper and then ya can help me daughter set the table. 'is 'ere turnip stew needs a close eyes upon it. If'n its not cooked enough, tis tough a chew'n and too much cook'n makes it tasteless and stringy. Ya need not worry yerself none, I make the finest turnip stew 'at teeth ever been sunk in ta."
He never doubted it a minute that Mrs. Maggot's turnip stew was the finest. Even the cooks at Brandyhall paid the old hobbitess homage over her turnip stew and none could make it equal to her. Turnips and mushrooms were in abundance here in the Marish and the hobbits were happy to pay Farmer Maggot his asking price.
Frodo would have been envied by every Bucklander sitting at the table of the Maggots sharing a fine meal with them. They'd all come a knocking on their door, if it was not for their dogs that kept them away.
Frodo nodded politely and noticed all the jars lined up in her cupboard. The jars set three rows deep and there were more than just pickles in them. He worried if Minderrell would be able to find them from the other items that sat on the shelf. Making an attempt to help her by reaching his hand up towards the pickles, he suddenly realized that it was unnecessary. Minderrell stroked her hands across the rows of the jars, counting them and stopped when her hands touched the pickles. Taking it down, she opened them. Frodo soon realized that she did not need any help what so ever and marveled again at her skills.
He went to the wash tub and began to wash up for one of the best meals that he would eat. His mouth watered just being in the kitchen.
Sam's mouth watered also reading about what Frodo wrote in his book about Mrs. Maggot and her turnip stew. He was no longer concerned about Minderrell's blindness or how Frodo was getting along with the young lass. His stomach now ached with hunger and all he could think about was turnip stew.
There was just no sleep for this old hobbit tonight. His mind was so occupied with his old master, Minderrell, missing his dearly-departed wife, feeling guilty for reading Frodo's secrets and now an empty stomach that only wanted to eat turnip stew. This was sure turning out to be one of Sam's most perplexing nights that he had ever spent.
The old hobbit climbed out of his bed and covered his shoulders with one of Rosie's knitted shawls. Taking his candle he slowly made his way down the long corridors of Bag End, heading to the kitchen.
Opening his pantry door, Sam scoured through the jars, baskets and barrels, but not one turnip could be found. There were tomatoes, potatoes, a few head of cabbages and a basket of onions.
But they would not satisfy Sam's appetite, not when one is thinking about turnip stew. He looked through his pickle jar, but it was empty and the basket next to it only held three old dried out mushrooms that have long since lost their flavor. He went over to his stone countertop when he spied a crust of bread and half of a wedge of cheese heavily waxed to keep it fresh, sitting next it. Taking his knife, he cut a good chunk from the wedge of cheese and shaved off the wax coating. When he picked up the crust of bread, it was harden and dried out. He banged it upon the stone countertop and knew it was not fit for eating. He would have to wait until his cook came in the morning with fresh bread from her oven. Picking-up the wedge of cheese and his lit candle, Sam headed back to his bed and Frodo's small book.
Farmer Maggot's eldest son's came in with their two hired-hands that joined them. One was introduced as Boletac and Agaric Maggot, while his hired hands were called Togo Marlgrass, and his younger brother Podo. They were stout lads of thick arms and shoulders and upon their hairy feet shown the earth that they treaded and ground in clay upon their fingers. Still Frodo stood and shook their hands proudly.
After the lads washed up and joined the others at the table, almost every seat was taken, except one. Even the three bowls that sat on a woven circular rug in front of the hearth sat empty and unoccupied. Frodo was thankful for this since he held to truth what Farmer Maggot promised if he had ever stepped foot on his land again that his dogs would eat him.
Pots were passed and heavy ladle spoons were filled-full and placed on empty plates in front of those that dined. Bowls of the finest turnip stew were filled and glasses poured of fresh warm goats milk and they all sat back eating, laughing and sharing their stories. Frodo never enjoyed himself more than sitting with this family and especially Minderrell by his side.
Sam let out a grown just reading this and rubbed his empty belly that growled.
When the afternoon wore on, the Maggots and their guest went outside on their large porch because the temperature became too hot to sit inside. Minderrell asked Frodo to take a walk with her around their farm. Holding hands, they strolled over to the grove of trees. The shade of the trees provided made the warmer temperatures easier to bear and with the creek just on the other side of the grove, Frodo walked Minderrell over to it so they could soak their feet into the water.
Frodo had a chance to tell Minderrell about his life growing up at Brandy Hall. Knowing Minderrell could not see, Frodo told her in many details describing everything of great importance to her about the hobbits that lived there and Brandy Hall.
"The biggest slope is upon Buck Hill, the slope is vast and it seems to go on forever. When you're traveling from the east you can see the four large rounded doors that are thickly made and heavily craved. The doors lead off into many fine tunnels with carves beams and wooden wall. They say there are over hundred windows and other smaller doors to get you where you want to go and just on the other side of Brandy Hall is Bucklebury and you can get almost anything you may want in their stores and shops."
"Oh, Frodo, it sounds wonderful!" exclaimed Minderrell. "You must take me there someday."
"Someday, Minderrell, I would love to take you there and to Hobbiton to meet my Uncle Bilbo. His home is equally impressive and is one of the largest smials one could possible imagine. One day, I hope you come to love Bag End as much as I do." Frodo told her.
"Frodo, you have been to so many places and seen so many things," she commented. "I on the other hand have hardly ever left my home."
"You will one day, Minderrell. I will take you to those places and you will experience everything there is in the Shire," Frodo promised her.
Frodo stood in the water where he was soaking his feet into the creek and began to wade further in to see how deep it was.
"Frodo?" questioned Minderrell. She could hear the lapping of water from Frodo's feet while he waded out in the water. "What are you doing?"
"The day is so hot that I thought perhaps you and I could go swimming in the creek. The water is only waste high and it has an even bottom. Would you like to try it?"
"I would be too fearful to try such a thing," she told him.
"If I promise to hold you and not let you go, would you try it with me?"
Minderrell bit her bottom lip worrying if she should or not. Her feet felt cool and comfortable, but the heat of the hot day was making the rest of her feel hot and sticky. Allowing her adventurous side to take over, she stood and held her hands out for Frodo to carry her.
Picking her up in his arm, Frodo slowly waded out in the water with Minderrell and slowly allowed her to become wet a little bit at a time the deeper he walked into the water. She squeezed Frodo neck holding on to him for dear life, but Frodo gently talked to her and made her feel comfortable and relaxed. She loved how cool the water felt all around her and she no longer felt hot and miserable.
Frodo had his arms around her small waste and she leaned the back of her head against his shoulder. Allowing her feet to raise to the top of the water, she marveled how wonderful it felt just floating. He taught her how to paddle her feet and stroke the water with her arms. From time to time, he would let go of her for just a moment to show her that she did not need him to stay afloat in the water. When he did this, Minderrell would stop paddling her legs and stroking the water with her arms. However, Frodo was right there and immediately gathered her up in his arms. She clung on to him, holding him tightly. "You promised not to let go," she declared to him.
"But you were swimming on your own and you did not need me to hold you up," he told her.
Minderell raised the lids of her eyes in surprise as she too realized that she did not sink in the water but stayed afloat as long as she paddled her feet and stroked her arms. She immediately wanted to try it again. This time, she told Frodo to back away from her and she paddled and stroked her arms in the water and swam over to him.
Laughing with excitement, Minderrell flung her arms around him proclaiming, "I did it, Frodo. I can swim!"
She hugged him tenderly to thank him.
Frodo was amazed with the lass he held in his arms, at her fearlessness. It reminded him of another fearless lass that had taught him how to swim in the Brandywine River. It was his mother. Stroking her wet hair, he slightly pulled her away from him so he could see her face. "Now you must give me a promise, Minderell."
"Yes, Frodo, anything," she told him still laughing.
"You must promise never to go swimming by yourself and you must always wait until I am with you," said Frodo.
And from his serious tone of voice, Minderell knew that this promise meant a great deal to Frodo. "Yes, Frodo, I promise never to go swimming without you."
Then to fade the seriousness from that moment, Frodo dunked her into the water and she splashed water into his face, while the two laughed holding each other and playing in the water. Their laughter rang out with delightful squeals and giggles that her brother, Napus heard and observed.
Frodo carried her from the creek, holding her tenderly in his arms and laid her down upon the grass, joining her. Stroking her wet hair to dry it in the warmth of the breeze that met them, Frodo felt the softness of her face that he had longed to touch. Their laughter suddenly stopped and Minderrell could sense that Frodo wished to kiss her.
She raised her hand to his cheek and guided his lips to hers and she kissed him tenderly under the shade of the grove of trees.
