PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

Chapter XXXVIII: The Greatest Fear

"You got to spend three weeks partying with elves?" cried Nick. He released Bonnie from his bear-hug and stepped back to survey her suspiciously. We were standing in the mall parking lot beside Nick's old, beaten-up car (also known as Gertrude). After Bonnie had given up on trying to kill me, I'd called Nick and asked him to come pick us up. Nick had broken all speed limits in his rush to get to the mall.

"It was fun—elves party almost every night," said Bonnie. "Why? Where were you?"

"I was playing court jester to a bunch of goblins," grumbled Nick.

Swaying slightly and my brain fuzzy, I said, "I still don't understand."

"Understand what?" asked Nick.

"How did you manage to survive the goblins?" I asked. "Your jokes aren't that funny."

"You lack a refined sense of humor," scoffed Nick. "Your jokes would have gotten us killed."

Bonnie groaned. "You didn't hear her elf insults. Who in their right mind would tell an elf to take a pointy stick and shove it up his ass?"

"I didn't use the word ass," I said, my words blending together. "It makes it seem slightly more polite that way." I giggled at my own joke.

Nick's eyes narrowed at me. Then he turned to Bonnie. "Is she drunk?"

"We were partying with the elves," said Bonnie. "Of course, she's drunk."

I nodded. "They have strong wine."

"Get her in the back of the car," said Nick. "I'll drive her home."

"You'll make her sick with your driving," muttered Bonnie.

Nick, who refused to believe any of our criticisms against his driving, shrugged and said, "Well, either I can drive her home or we can leave her on the side of the rode to hitchhike."

"Back of the car it is," said Bonnie.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. "I'm not drunk." I took two steps towards Nick's car and somehow ended up turned around, facing the mall again. "Whoa. How did that happen?"

"Elvish wine?" asked Nick.

"Elvish wine," confirmed Bonnie.

"Damn. Where can I get me some of that stuff?"

Bonnie whacked Nick over the back of his head. "Idiot."

She grabbed me by the arm and steered me in the right direction. By some miracle, my two friends managed to get the drunk me into the back of Nick's car. And we were off back to my apartment—with Nick behind the wheel. Needless to say, that sobered me up.

"You demon!" I clutched the car door. "Drive like a normal person!"

"Go to happy place," muttered Bonnie. "Go to happy place. Go to happy place."

"You people overreact," said Nick. "Karen thinks my driving's fine."

"She's lying!" I wailed as Nick made a particularly stop turn. "And as your girlfriend, Karen's biased."

"Karen?" Bonnie frowned. "What happened to Joanna?"

Still clinging to the door, I said, "Karen's cool. You're like her."

"What is this?" asked Bonnie with a little shriek as Nick drove through a "stoptional" sign. "I've been away for a year. and Nick has a new girlfriend—not a big surprise, actually—but Ana likes Nick's girlfriend."

"At least, Nick's terrible driving has stayed the same," I said. My stomach had turned at the mention of one year. That one year missed that Bonnie would never get back. One year where the world had moved on and she had stayed the same. She would have to start her senior year of college all over again. She would have to come up with excuses as to where she'd been. She would have to readjust, learn what she'd missed in the past year. The fault lay with me of course—me and this stupid Skip's.

As I pulled myself out of my thoughts, Nick and Bonnie were discussing how she'd gotten Thranduil to not throw her in prison. Bonnie, thankfully, had a much better way with elves and was not thrown into prison—she also had a more useful college major than I did. She had explained to the elves the importance of handrails and other architectural conveniences of our world, and Thranduil had invited her to stay provided she talked with his elven architects.

"The only race in Middle Earth I've seen use handrails are the goblins of the Mistry Mountains," I said.

"The goblins are clever in their own way." Nick shuddered, and I regretted mentioning the goblins. He glanced over at Bonnie and asked, "The elves sound like fun."

"They are," said Bonnie. While I scoffed. She scowled at me and asked, "What do you have against elves?"

"She's a dwarvish woman," said Nick. He slammed on the brakes to stop in time at a red light, giving us a brief reprieve from his driving. "Hating elves is in her DNA."

"Yeah," said Bonnie. "Except she's not actually a dwarf."

"I don't hate all elves," I said. "I like Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen. I even like Legolas in my own way. And Riadan. Never forget about Riadan." I turned to Nick. "Riadan is my estranged step-brother."

The light turned green, and once again, Nick stepped on the gas pedal, while Bonnie and I held on for dear life.

"So you avoided the elves prisons though," said Nick. "Ana made it sound like Thranduil threw every stranger he met in there."

"Those cells are for dwarves," said Bonnie. "Thranduil even nicknamed his prison the Dwarf Pen."

"Stupid elf," I muttered.

"So then," asked Nick, ignoring me, "how did you meet the elves?"

"When Ana first dumped me in Middle Earth," said Bonnie. "I was in Mirkwood. Alone. There were shadows everywhere and creatures that I'm pretty sure wanted to rip out my jugular and devour my intestines were constantly watching me."

I cringed. "Sorry…"

"I was pretty certain that there was no way out of Mirkwood. So the, in the depths of despair, from out of the shadows came the two most beautiful creatures I have ever seen."

"If you're going to say an elf than I'm going to puke," I said. "I mean it."

Bonnie decided to ignore me. "The hot elves turned out to be Turthonion and Turungol. They were friendly enough for elves who put me in irons and brought me to the Woodland Realm to stand before their king."

"That sounds like elves," I muttered. Though, honestly, I had quite liked Turthonion and Turungol when I met them.

"I explained to Thranduil the weirdness of the situation and recommended the use of handrails. It helped that he had drunk a bit too much at dinner that night. He ended up naming me an honorary elf—"

"Bonnie," I said in disgust. "You've gone over to the dark side."

"So, the next morning," said Bonnie loudly, "Thranduil woke up and didn't remember who I was. He wanted to throw me in one of the Dwarf Pens, but Legolas said that I was now an honorary elf and that Thranduil had to respect that. And so, I stayed with the elves for those three weeks, giving them construction ideas an drinking elvish wine."

"You had it easy," said Nick. "You should see goblins party."

Bonnie grinned. "No one parties like elves."

"Goblins try to eat each other."

"Elves do too," said Bonnie with a snort. "One time, Riadan got really drunk and tried to eat Valior. So Valior went warrior-mode on his ass and beat up Riadan. But in the process, Valior accidentally hit Lastaeon and, well, Lastaeon doesn't like to be hit. So there was this massive fight of kicking and biting and scratching and somehow they all managed to come out of that looking graceful and beautiful."

"I'm going to throw up," I said.

"Seriously, Ana," said Bonnie. "Don't be such a drama queen. Elves aren't that bad—"

I puked in the back of Nick's car. The elvish wine had finally gotten the best of me.

"You're cleaning that up," muttered Nick as he ran another red light.

Okay, okay, I know you're not interested in hearing about my epic drunk failures. You have more than enough of those stories. But don't you dare run away. I'm moving on! Just for you, I'll be real quick about what happened next.

I cleaned out Nick's car. I called my parents, told them I was okay. I stayed in my apartment for the next couple weeks. I avoided Jack like the plague. I hung out with Nick. I hung out with Bonnie. I hung out with Karen. I looked for a new job. I did not get a new job. I was reminded that my life sucked.

So, one day, I was making myself ramen noodle soup in the microwave and chatting on the phone with Bonnie at the same time.

"Movie?" I asked.

"Yeah. There's a new horror movie out."

"Is it the one with the little girl stalking the children?" I asked. "Because I will not see that one. Remember the last time I saw a horror movie where a little girl was the killer? The one where the five-year-old girl kidnapped her classmates and stabbed them to death with a pair of scissors? I freaked out for a week every time you held a pair of scissors in art class."

"Oh yeah," said Bonnie, her laughter crackling through the phone. "That was funny."

"No, it definitely was not."

"So movie?" asked Bonnie. "It's the one with the possessed kid. Nick is bringing Karen, so I need you to be my date."

The microwave beeped, and I pulled out the cup of ramen noodles. "I don't—Ah!" The hot water spilled over the edges of the cup, scorching the fingers of my right hand. I instantly dropped the cup. Water and noodles spilled over the floor. I danced out of the range of the chicken broth.

"Frigging frig," I cursed.

"What happened?" asked Bonnie. "You didn't Skip, did you?"

"If I had Skipped, I wouldn't be talking to you right now. Middle Earth doesn't have reception." I groaned and grabbed a dishtowel from the counter. "There goes my dinner." Kneeling down on the kitchen floor, I started mopping up the spilt chicken broth with the dishtowel.

"You should bring me with you next time you Skip."

I stopped, mid-clean, and shifted the phone in my left hand awkwardly. "What?"

"I know you have no control over it, but damn it's fun. You should definitely try and bring me next time. We can jump off a building together. Now that'll be some serious bonding time."

I grabbed the garbage can from beside the counter and used the towel to scoop up the fallen noodles.

Bonnie kept talking, "I really want to meet Thorin. I don't believe that he's really as majestic as you say. And Faramir sounds pretty awesome. And Legolas! I want to see Legolas sixty years in the future! He'll be so surprised!"

"Weren't you mad at me when you found out I Skipped you?" I asked, my voice flat.

"Yeah," said Bonnie. "But if you take me this time, then I won't get lost, right. You took Nick to meet the Ents, and he was fine. So why can't you take me to meet the Fellowship or the Company?"

I tossed the noodles in the trash. They made a dull thud as they struck the bottom of the can.

"Ana? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"You were going all silent on me," said Bonnie. "That is not normal. Are you getting sick?"

"What are you talking about? I'm just cleaning." I let out a little, awkward laugh. "Do you know how gross it is to clear ramen noodles off the floor? Though it's not as gross as cleaning ice cream off the floor. Remember that time Nick came over with ice cream for me and him, but not for you? And then, you got angry and tried to steal Nick's ice cream and it ended up spilling all over the floor. And then you two fled the apartment and left me to clean up the mess."

"Oh yeah…" There was a pause on Bonnie's end of the line. "Are you mad at me?"

"Yeah," I said. "You didn't help me clean up the frigging ice cream."

"Ana."

"Almost done cleaning." I dropped the filthy dishtowel in the trash along with the noodles and broth. "I need to buy more paper towels."

I could hear her sigh through the telephone line. "Cleaning is not a healthy way to vent your rage."

"Bonnie, I'm not mad."

"Ana."

"I'm really not. It's just that you don't…" I trailed off. I didn't know how to explain to her how horrible the Skips were. It was a ridiculously contradictory, because I'd been upset with Nick for not liking Middle Earth enough and now I was upset with Bonnie for liking it too much. No. It wasn't because she liked it too much. It was because she liked Skipper. She didn't understand how much it tore my life apart. She had just missed out a year of her life, and yet she still didn't understand how painful Skipping was. I couldn't explain it to her, I couldn't make her understand, so in the end, I just said, "Never mind."

"Tell me," said Bonnie. "Just talk it out. You like talking."

"You just don't—"

I Skipped.

Still holding my cellphone to my ear, I looked around the cave. I'd never visited this cave before—I had no idea where or when I was. The cave was dark, damp, and cramped. The moist stone walls seemed to be sagging, as if they were on the verge of collapsing and would come crashing down on my head at any second. The cave offered none of the vast openness and comfort of dwarven halls like Erebor and Moria. How odd that two places—both underground—should provoke two different emotions in me. Both were made of stone. Both were inaccessible to sunlight. Both were tunnels made for no man. And yet, they were so different.

I used my cellphone as a flashlight. The pale, blue light fell upon the dank walls of the cave—and urg, the walls were a mess of bones and cobwebs. White, sticky thread coated the walls like a veil. Skeletons—sometimes deformed, sometimes only a decrepit bone or two—clung to the spider web. Empty eye sockets glared out at me.

A twitching ball of spider web dangled above my head. The light of the cellphone was shaking as I shone it above my head, and then, out from the depths of the trembling ball, a black eye stared out at me.

I clasped a hand out my mouth and gagged. I nearly dropped the cell phone.

I hate spiders. And I don't say that lightly. I hate spiders. They have all those legs and those beady eyes and they're black and hairy and they make webs and they suck their food dry. Urg. They're just icky and gross. You know my fear of heights? Yeah, well, my fear of spiders is ten times worse.

"Bonnie…" I said into my phone. Some small part of me hoped that Middle Earth had magically started receiving reception. There was no answer. "Help me…" My voice was nothing more than a squeak. "Help."

The cellphone was the only light in the cave. Without the phone, I would have been left in pure darkness. Alone. Blind. Amongst the cobwebs and the spiders.

A shiver raced up my spine, and I wrapped my arms around my shoulders. Oh God, this was disgusting. I felt as though a thousand spiders were crawling up my legs; their little legs pricking my skin as they scampered up my legs, across my stomach and down my arms and up my neck until they covered every inch of my body.

Arg! I'm creeping myself out just describing this.

I shook my head, trying to wipe away the fears. I had to focus. I knew that. I couldn't think of the spiders.

Thinking of happy things usually helped. Like Thorin's majesty. What I wouldn't give for some of Thorin's majesty right then. What was it that Galadriel said to Frodo? "May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out." I need Thorin to say that to me, except it would be something like "I give you the light of my majesty for when all other lights go out." Yeah, I needed Thorin around for situations like these. His majesty burns so brightly in the dark. Plus, you know, I wouldn't have said no to having a sturdy dwarf by my side.

I don't know how I survived this next part of the story. I don't know if it was instinct or some amount of foresight that saved my life.

I couldn't hear anything. Other than the sound of my own breathing, the cave was dead silent. There was no clue, and no warning. I turned around on a sheer whim. And found myself face to face with a giant spider.

When I say that I'm terrified of spiders, I mean the little tiny spiders that you find crawling around the rim of your bathtub or sitting on the headboard of your bed. The little creepy spiders. This was a giant spider. And when I say giant, I mean giant. The spider was at least twice the height of a full grown man and many times fatter. She was massive. Her eight legs protruded from her body at awkward angles, resting on all sides of the curved walls of the cave. She had thousands of black, glassy eyes embedded in her fat head, and her pincers snapped open and closed as she gazed at me. Her pulsing stinger bounced up and down behind her, visible beneath her body.

For a moment, a dreadfully long moment, the spider and I stared at each other.

We had two very different perspectives on the matter. The spider saw me as a juicy morsel, about to be wrapped up in sticky spider web and dangled from the ceiling to ripen before she sank her pincers into me and devoured me alive and wriggling. She was waiting for her moment to strike. I, on the other hand, was paralyzed with fear. The spider might have had this great plan for how to capture me and devour me—but me? All that was going through my mind was: that's a big spider.

The spider took a step forward, all eight of her legs working seamlessly to make the movement as graceful possible. Her pincers clacked together, inches from my face.

I stared. The spider's black eyes gleamed with delight. I stared. The spider's thin, white hairs stood on end. I stared. The spider's leathery hide bumped against the cave walls. I stared. The spider's pincer throbbed hungrily. I fled.

"Not like this! Not like this! Not like this! I don't do spiders!" I sprinted down the tunnel, screaming at the top of my lungs until my throat felt like it was splitting in two. "I don't taste good!"

The spider didn't listen to me. She charged after me, maneuvering gracefully through the tunnel. She was almost upon me, her pincers opening and closing rapidly.

I took a right turn—and ran into someone.

With a scream, I leapt backwards. "Out of my way! I don't want to be breakfast! Or lunch! Or dinner! I don't actually know what time of day it is!"

"Ana?"

I opened my eyes and stared at the hobbit in front of me. It was difficult to make out his face in the darkness of the cave even though he was holding a flickering torch in his left hand, the orange flames illuminating his round face and curly hair.

"Sam?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Ana!" Sam's gray eyes widened in a mixture of surprise, joy, and fear. "What are you doing here?"

"Spider!" I cried, looking wildly over my shoulder. The spider was gone. I spun around in circles, searching for the beast, but it was nowhere to be found.

"What are you searching for?" asked Sam, looking over his shoulder too.

"The spider," I said. "It was chasing me. Oh my God! It was huge! Sam!" I grasped his shoulders. "Where's Frodo? We have to get out of here. Right. Now. The spider will eat us all. It'll suck us dry until we're nothing more than skeletons hanging from the walls of her cave like decorations."

"We cannot leave yet," said Sam.

"Why not?" I wailed.

"We must find Mister Frodo first."

I blinked. Slowly, I looked from left to right. There was no sign of Frodo. I turned back to Sam. "Where is he?"

"Gollum separated us," explained Sam. "We were wandering through the cave together. I heard Gollum's voice, calling me in one direction. I tried to follow him—and then, when I next looked over my shoulder, Mister Frodo was gone."

"You mean he's disappeared? In this place?" I asked, my voice breaking as I pictured Frodo alone with that giant spider.

Sam nodded mutely.

I glanced around, scanning the darkness for any sign of the spider. I turned back at Sam and asked, "Can we just leave him to escape on his own? He's a strong hobbit. We'll head for the exit…and Frodo can meet us outside."

"No!" cried Sam. "How can you think that? We must find Mister Frodo first."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Frodo's very capable. He could be outside the cave already. He's probably out there—waiting. For us."

"Not if Gollum has his say," said Sam darkly. "Come along, Ana. We will find Mister Frodo, and then we will leave this cave alive."

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice squeaking. "Think about the spider…"

Ignoring my words, Sam led the way through the cave. I bit my bottom lip. I didn't want to follow. I could just picture the spider, with all its legs, stalking me through the darkness. But Sam was looking for Frodo and I didn't want to be left alone. Trying to stop my hands from shaking, I hurried after Sam.

The cave was larger than I'd initially thought, and eventually, I realized the cave was actually a series of tunnels. Cobwebs and skeletons covered every inch of the walls. We moved carefully through the tunnels, wary of the giant spider that had to be lurking somewhere in the darkness. Sam was much less bothered by the spider and her webs than I was. He twitched at every dead body but other than that his reaction was contained. Me, on the other hand, was an emotional, terrified wreck. I yelped and clung to Sam's back whenever my hand or foot would accidentally brush against a spider web (an awkward thing since Sam is at least a foot shorter than me). When Sam's torch died, I lit the way with my cellphone. At first, Sam was fascinated by the device, but when I showed how it worked, he grew suspicious and would call it witchcraft.

"Man," I grumbled, "it's just a cellphone. And don't call it witchcraft. Nothing good comes about when I'm accused of being a witch."

"We do not have need for such things in the Shire," said Sam. "Why should your world have need of such devilish devices?"

"My world is very different from the Shire," I said. "Actually, my world is very different from Middle Earth. We have skyscrapers, cars, trucks, buses, and trains. I bet you've never even heard of any of those. Cellphones are a common thing in my world. And we have computers and laptops. Way more advanced than this little cell phone."

Sam glared at the little light in my hand. "Your world delves deep into the dark arts."

"It's called science."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but a piercing scream shot through the tunnels of the cave and cut across Sam's response.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Mister Frodo!" cried Sam.

"We don't know that it's him," I said. "It could be Gollum. We don't like Gollum. We probably shouldn't do anything rash and risk both our lives…"

Sam sprinted down the tunnel in the direction the scream had come from. I groaned.

"I'm not following!" I shouted. "I'll be right here. Safe and sound from danger."

A couple seconds passed. I glanced to my right. There was a skeleton attached to the wall. His jaw was dislodged and crooked. There were maggots in his empty eye sockets.

"Wait for me!" I sprinted down the tunnel after Sam.