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Chapter Three.
Feeling rather bloated, the Fellowship left the big M, and ambled about the streets, going nowhere in particular. Pippin was still sucking at his coke and waiting for his ice-cubes to melt. The grease, salt and sugar seemed to have stimulated Gandalf's brain, for he was thinking hard, pulling on his beard, and not paying any attention to his surroundings. Aragorn asked him what he was thinking of.
"The records..." Gandalf walked into a big hard post with a lantern at the top. Rubbing his forehead where he had hit it, he said, "The records at Isengard. A long time ago, when I went through them, I found something that I think relates to our present situation."
"What?"
"A document."
"Gandalf, now is not the time for riddles."
Gandalf smiled. "It is not a riddle; it is all I can remember."
The hobbits stared, bug-eyed at the shops they passed. It was getting dark, and the streets were brightly lit by lots of lights in flashing colours. Loud music blared from one open shop doorway, and they stopped, enthralled by the beat. The music jumped; and seemed to bounce right up into the sky in the joy of being alive, tried to touch the stars simply for the fun of it. Entranced, they forgot to move on when the others did, and were left behind for several minutes before Legolas noticed they were missing.
"You must keep up with us!" Gandalf scowled. "What would happen if we got seperated?"
"We'd head for the nearest big M." Pippin said innocently.
"Peregrin Took, one more foolish comment from you, and you will never see the inside of a big M again!" Gandalf stopped suddenly. Pippin, thinking he had finished getting his earful, gazed longingly at the shop where the music was still coming from. A group of teenagers came out, all talking with each other. One saw Pippin looking, and said, "Cool outfit, man."
Pippin, trying not to be put off by the fact that the boy had no hair, and that he did not know whether "cool" was good or bad, asked, "What music is that playing?"
That got the others' attentions as well. "Its Rendez - Vous Four, Curly-Top."
"Jean Michel Jarre. Spacey, huh?"
"Supreme cool!"
"Yes...cool." Pippin tried out the unfamiliar word, decided he liked the sound of it, and repeated, "Cool. Very cool."
Frodo pulled at his elbow and drew him away as Gandalf began walking very fast away from the shop. The hobbits had to trot to keep up with him. Gandalf did not stop until they had left the bright lights and noise behind them; he paused eventually on a large bridge over a wide stretch of water. On one side, Frodo could dimly make out lots of large buildings, and on the other, more water, and more buildings. Even from the bridge, lights were visible, and the big metal things still roared on the roads, giving the hobbits a fright as they flew past, and leaving a funny smell in the air when they had gone. People still walked on the roads, going hither and thither about their business.
"Does this place never sleep?" Gimli said aloud.
"Its always awake." Frodo said thoughtfully. "Its alive, too, in an odd sort of way. Everyone in it, always so busy, always doing something, gives the city a life of its own. It feeds on the lives of its inhabitants, yet supports them by its deadness."
Sam looked at him in suprise, for Frodo sounded completely serious. His face, too, looked less strained than it had been of late. The Ring did not seem to be affecting Frodo as much in this world. Well, that's good then, Sam thought.
Gandalf said, in a voice that gave no room for questions, "Everyone, come close. Now, we need to find somewhere to sleep tonight. We cannot walk through London the entire night."
"Can we not find a corner somewhere?" asked Gimli. "Anything is better than the snow under Caradhras, where we would have spent this night."
"Are there no inns in this place?" Boromir asked.
"I have been watching out for one." Aragorn said. "For the most part, there seems to be just places where people go in and obtain alcohol, and then come out in the last stages of inebriation."
"I'll never take the Prancing Pony for granted again." Sam muttered to Merry.
"Why not ask one of the locals? They have proved themselves to be friendly, for the most part." Legolas proposed.
"And there is another place that I must find." Gandalf said.
"What is that?"
"A bookshop."
"A bookshop? But why?"
"So that I may find a book."
Pippin said, with a pained expression. "What book? Gandalf, I know you love to be close about life-threatening issues, but it might be safer if we all knew what the plan is. In case we get seperated." he added, a trifle smugly.
"There is no plan as yet, Peregrin. And even if there was, I assure you that it would not be revealed to you."
Thus crushed, Pippin quietened, and Gandalf waylaid a passer-by, asking him, "Excuse me, but do you know of anyplace where we might sleep tonight?"
The man squinted through the dark and a pair of thick and dirty glasses. "Oh, this your family, is it? You should try a B and B, they have good prices, and plenty of TV for your grandchildren."
"Grandchildren?" Frodo squeaked, while Merry, Pippin and Sam went off into gales of laughter. The man came to the conclusion that he had been insulted, and stalked off in a huff. Gimli chuckled into his beard, and Boromir hid a smile at the expression on Gandalf's face, while Legolas and Aragorn exchanged amused glances.
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Finally, they had no choice but to bed down in a small tunnel that went underneath the street. After nearly getting run over by the horrendous metal things, they managed to get across the road. It was Merry who noticed that the big post with lights on commanded the stream of traffic. If it glowed red, the things stopped long enough for people to cross, if it went green, then the things moved.
"At least they obey something." Gimli said, squatting down on a clean patch of the floor and dropping his axe with a sigh. The others followed suit and leaned back against the grey walls. The tunnel was smelly and a bit drafty, and someone else was already in it, a woman with a bag huddled up in a rough coat on the other side. She glared at them suspiciously, but when she saw that they meant no harm, settled down and began leafing through a paper. Frodo dropped his head down onto his knees and shut his eyes. He had not realised it before, but he was tired. The excitement of the new world combined with the effects of the snows of Caradhras combined, and Frodo drifted off into slumber.