"I need a haircut," she groaned. Deagol kicked his feet up so they were resting on the edge of the boat.
"Why? Your hair's not very long."
"I just want to chop it all off," she muttered, reeling in her line.
"That'd be a site," chuckled Deagol.
"Believe it or not there was a time when I thought I'd look great being bald"
she said, reaching for her hook to clean off the weeds that had collected on
it. Behind her she heard Deagol snort and he glanced over his shoulder at
her.
"You can't be serious!" he asked her.
"No, really I did," she said, picking up a new worm. "I wanted to shave my hair off and be bald like Daddy." She smirked at herself and hooked the worm. "Mom wouldn't let me."
"And a good thing too," said Deagol with a nod. "As if you weren't enough the talk of the town all ready." At this Hope turned around and looked at him.
"What?" she asked. Deagol paused, the look on his face reminding her of a deer in the headlights, and he turned around to face her.
"You don't know?" he asked her, searching her eyes for lies. Hope shook her head and set her pole down. "Ever since you showed up, the people have been curious about you. They want to know where you came from, why you dress so strangely, and why your hair is short if you're a girl."
"Then they're just curious," she said dismissively.
"Well... the thing is... once they start getting curious... that's when they start coming up with their own answers." Hope felt her stomach start to knot up.
"Like what?" Deagol looked as though he was uncomfortable with the topic,
now knowing that she had been oblivious to this. But it was too late now, so
he spoke up.
"Well... I might have heard this one fellow say you were... banished from
your homeland." Hope knew part of her couldn't quite dismiss that as a lie.
There was some truth to it. "And that's where the stories get nasty because
now that they've decided you were banished, they want to know what
happened to give you that punishment." He cleared his throat
uncomfortably. "And... they seem to have noticed how well you get along
with... the men..." He raised his eyebrows suggestively and Hope shrank
back, her jaw hanging in astonishment.
"They think I'm a whore?" she asked.
"No... they think you 'were' a whore, but not all of them." As if that helped any. Somehow the changing of words didn't lift her spirits at all.
"And you?" she demanded, looking up at him. "Do you think that?"
"No!" Deagol answered... but a little too quickly. "I mean... I don't know much about where you came from... but... I've never... I mean..." Hope couldn't believe him, and she sat back.
"So... everytime one of the men come up to me to say 'Good morning' or shake my hand... they're doing it because they think I'm going to..."
"No!" cried Deagol. "Never! Don't think that way!"
"Why would they do this?" she muttered, looking out at the lake.
"It's because they've got nothing better to do," said Deagol, placing a hand
on her shoulder. "Ignore them. You've never let other people's opinions
bother you before." Hope was silent for a moment, but then nodded. "But"
started Deagol, carefully putting his words together. "Out of curiousity.
why did you come here?"
Hope looked at him, trying to decide if he was asking because he thought she was possibly a whore or if he just wanted to know the truth. "I was kicked out of my house," she said softly. "But not for that reason."
"Why then?" he asked, leaning over on his side, intrigued
"Because," she answered. "Just because." Because I screwed up, was what
she wanted to say, but knew that would leave more explaining to do. Deagol
shrugged and they went back to fishing, trying not to bring up the topic
again.
----
Smeagol traveled down the road, hands jammed in his pockets and his mind wandering every which way. There were a million reasons why he shouldn't be here right now. But he had to see her. He had to make sure...
He didn't know why he was really doing this, but for reasons beyond him he
went anyway until he found the small house along the edge of town. He
inspected it up and down the trees were growing nicely around it, some
large and full, probably standing there since the beginning of time, others
were small and young, planted a few summers ago. There was a beautiful
and flourishing flowerbed in front of the house, holding an array of colors,
and the over all feeling around the house was pleasant.
The front door opened and Smeagol quickly hid from sight. Out bounded a
little girl, her long black hair in two french braids, and a smile on her face.
Smeagol couldn't help but smile when he saw her. Another person stepped
out of the house and joined her. It was a woman, probably her new mother,
picking a few flowers with her and placing them in her hair.
Smeagol smiled to himself. Samara was as well as she had said. She didn't look like the same shy girl he had known for a while. She was actually smiling, and playing with a mother who treated her right. Smeagol stood up and quietly walked away, knowing the pair were too busy to notice him.
When he was but a few houses away from his own he found a rather large group surrounded by one of the houses, filled with chattering hobbits, all of them seeming a mixture of eager and distressed about what was going on in the house the were gathered around. Smeagol couldn't really understand what they were talking about, but his answer soon came.
"They say she died in her sleep, poor thing!" said one voice.
"I'll warrant he poisoned her in her sleep," said another.
"Or perhaps she poisoned herself!" threw in another. He rolled his eyes. It was just like them to jump in with gossip and outrageous assumptions. He knew the family that lived there. It was his neighbor Tailor and Anna Goodwink. They had no children though they both wanted them badly. The front door opened and a doctor stepped out, shaking his head as Tailor Goodwink followed. He collapsed on the front step, holding his head in his hands, no doubt sobbing miserably, as others moved in to offer comfort.
"She's gone!" Smeagol heard him cry. "She was my world and now she's gone!"
Suddenly, something about his words struck a chord in Smeagol and his mind drifted to Hope. What would he do if she ever... He looked at the hobbit weeping on the stairs and could see himself in him. Hope had come to mean so much to him, and he had never thought that in the blink of an eye she could be gone. She had become his everything over the last few months.
He couldn't stay here. He'd offer his condolences later, but for now he had to find Hope. That was all he could think about. Turning, he hurried back to his house, wondering if she was still inside.
-
A few hours had gone by and Hope and Deagol were about ready to give up
when something grabbed a hold on Hope's line and pulled for all it was
worth. Hope lurched forward a little, then pulled back, not really knowing
what she was supposed to do now.
"Uh, Deagol?" she called. He turned and looked at her, then gave a yelp,
spinning around fully so he could help her.
"Just carefully... pull it up!" Hope tugged a little and Deagol helped talk her through it. The fish gave another vicious pull, and Hope was nearly tugged out of the boat, screaching and laughing as she fought to stay in. The fish was not coming up without a fight. Hope tried to pull again, but the fish pulled even harder. Hope teetered forward, and before Deagol could reach out and grab her, she was pulled face first into the water with a scream.
Deagol broke out laughing, waiting for her to surface.
Smeagol came running towards the lake, having not found Hope at his
house, and was about to call out to Deagol to ask if he had seen her when he
saw something float up above the water, unmoving as if it were dead.
Deagol scrambled about in the boat, panicing immediatly.
"Hope!" he shouted, and Smeagol felt his heart plunge into his stomach.
Hope floated about for a moment, laying on her stomach and looking as
though she had drowned, but a moment later her head snapped up and she
spat water into Deagol's face, smiling mischieviously.
"Gotcha!" she laughed. Deagol splashed her, cursing at her, and helped her climb back into the boat.
"You scared me to death!" he cried, but smiled, still finding the humor in it.
Smeagol took a deep breath, still getting over it himself. Hard as he tried, he didn't see her little joke as funny at all. Deagol rowed back to shore and Smeagol decided to make himself known.
"There you two are!" he called, forcing a smile. "I was looking around for you!"
"Sorry," said Hope with a smile, water dripping off her face. "Should have left a note or something."
"Well, we'd better get you into some dry clothes," said Smeagol. Hope
nodded and waved to Deagol as they left. Once they were inside his house,
not caring that she was soaked, Smeagol pulled her into a hug and kissed
her cheek. Then he let go and she stepped back with a smile.
"What was that for?" she asked. He didn't answer her and left her to get
dressed.
----