Deela was a typical sixteen year old, and typical sixteen year olds had various obsessions- okay, not that kind of obsession where Deela had to resort to a method of stalking. That wasn’t possible with this certain obsession, anyhow. Frodo Baggins was not a movie star nor even a regular human being. For those that had read J.R.R Tolkien’s series, they were sure to know that Frodo was a hobbit from Middle Earth, and to those that had read much further then the first page, Frodo wasn’t a normal hobbit, he was a hero. Deela found him fascinating, and found a lot in him that she couldn’t find in herself. Maybe that was why she turned him into her first teenage obsession.
Deela entered Coles bookstore to head straight for the stand, lined with bookmarks. Behind her followed her best friend, Cara. “Okay, Deela, you’re really starting to creep me out with this whole crush on Frodo thing. Do you know you deliberately passed by two of the hottest guys back there?”
Deela spun around, holding a bookmark up to show Cara with a beaming smile on her face. “They’re out today,” she exclaimed.
“Yeah,” sighed Cara, and gazed at the image on the bookmark of Frodo, holding the one ring possessively close to his chest, and staring back over his shoulder in suspicion. Cara grinned. “Elijah’s hot.”
“You mean, Frodo,” corrected Deela, stroking the gold tassels, hanging from the bookmark. “Frodo’s hot.”
“No, actually I meant Elijah. Come on, Dee, we can catch up with those hot blond guys in the food court if you hurry up.”
Deela turned the bookmark around for a glimpse of the price when a small gold ring caught her eye, spinning on the end of the tassels. She was taken by it, and lifted it into the palm of her hand to gaze fixedly at it. “Cool. I didn’t know they were selling such real looking rings. Looks like it came right out of the movie.”
Cara’s head had peeked over Deela’s shoulder, and nodded knowingly. “A good move on the merchandiser’s part. It does look real. Can I hold it?”
“Get one of your own, Cara,” said Deela, not taking her eyes from the ring that was starting to feel warm against her skin.
“Can I get that one, Dee?”
Deela’s eyes met with Cara’s and her fingers closed over the ring.
Cara made a noise in her throat of agitation before moving to the tower of bookmarks and choosing one. Her voice did not sound satisfied. “I got one, now lets go.” The two friends took their purchases to the front, but unlike Cara, Deela didn’t lay hers on the counter. Her eyes were intent on Cara’s bookmark and ring. Deela opened her palm and gave a gasp.
Cara looked at her. “What?”
Deela closed her palm, and swallowed hard. “Your ring looks different,” she replied.
“Oh come on,” Cara mumbled with a shake of her head. “How do you mean, different? Let me see.”
Deela felt the urge to put her hand behind her back, but Cara was her best friend, and she had never kept secrets from her before. Slowly, she opened her palm, and Cara bent forward for a look. “The ring is missing the markings,” said Cara disbelievingly.
“Are the rest like this?” asked Deela.
The two left the counter to go through the tower of bookmarks, looking for a ring that didn’t have the markings, but all did, all but the one Deela had. Deela went to the counter, and caught the attention of the cashier that had just arrived with an armful of books. They were the Lord of the Rings boxset.
“Excuse me,” called Deela.
The cashier set the box sets down with a sigh and a wipe of his brow. He was a tall man, big in the stomach who wore a strange green burette and matching t-shirt. Deela showed him the ring cautiously, ready to close her fist if he went to grab it from her. “A ring,” said he in a slightly hypnotized tone of voice.
“There’s no markings on it. The others have markings,” she explained.
“A manufacturer’s mistake,” he told her. “It’s different, though”. His head bowed to the computer in front of him and began punching the keys. “It’s still only 3.99 if price is what you’re worried about.”
Deela smiled, and held the bookmark out for him to scan. “Good, then I’ll buy it.” The cashier nodded, and the purchase was made. After, Deela put the bookmark in her pocket while waiting for Cara to purchase her own.
Later on that night, Deela lay in her bed, holding the bookmark close to gaze into the face of Frodo. There was an intensity in his big blue eyes to keep the ring he was holding like some childhood memory. Deela was startled by something bouncing onto her chest. She laid the bookmark aside to find that the ring had come undone from it’s tassels and rested lazily on Deela’s collarbone. She picked it up to gaze wonderingly at it. She looked for the markings that should’ve been there, but weren’t. She thought she heard a whisper, but it may have been her need to sleep bearing down on her. She reached over and switched off her lamp, rolling over with the ring in her view, pinched between two fingers. It was a nice ring. She couldn’t help, but like it. A strange thought came to her. A very strange thought. What if someone tried to take her ring? Deela was an only child and so there was no threat of siblings, coming to steal it, but that didn’t rule out her mom and dad. They could think she stole it. The ring did look a little too nice for a sixteen year old to own. She brought it close to her face, smiling as she twisted it, liking the feel of it against her skin. It was startlingly warm.
Slowly, as though by accident, she slipped it onto the middle finger of her right hand. Her eyes fell closed, she was asleep. Hours should’ve passed, but instead she had been awake barely seconds after she closed her eyes.
A voice of barely a whisper sank into her. “Bring it back… bring it back to me…”
A chill rose through her, filling her night shirt, and bottoms. She couldn’t open her mouth. She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs stung from not being used. She propelled her arms to push herself up through the cold until with a crash she was able to suck in a breath of fresh air. Water surrounded her so she paddled her arms and legs to stay above it. “I’m dreaming,” gasped Deela, turning from one direction to another. The sun was hot on the top of her head, and she was desperately fighting not to be dragged away with the waves that passed her. She caught sight of a dock a ways from her. Squinting, she could make out the form of someone sitting alone with a makeshift fishing pole in his hand. She swam in the direction of the dock and coming even closer, she could see that the someone was indeed a man with golden orange hair and very solemn eyes. She was reminded of someone, while looking at him. He wore a straw hat with a piece of wheat grass, poking from it. What was even more strange was his clothes. They didn’t look like modern garments from GAP or Old Navy, they looked shabby and simple. A white dress shirt with overalls and no shoes or socks. She was inches from him now, but he still hadn’t yet noticed she was there. He sat alone, sad, thinking, and fishing without much success.
Her eyes were led again to the feet, dangling off the dock and her breath caught. The man’s feet were covered in thick brown fur. She sank. A hobbit, her brain pounded into her as she fought with her feet to start moving again.
She was suddenly hauled up through the icy surface and her hand had been clutched tight around the wrist of the hobbit. Her coughing jag lasted until she had been brought up onto the dock. “You could have drowned. What did you think you were doing down there?”
The hobbit’s accent wasn’t like any she had ever heard, perhaps even the movie did not do it justice. She answered shakily. “I um- I thought I was sleeping.”
The hobbit laughed. “Sleeping in the water? I have never heard a thing like it.”,/p>
“Um- yeah,” Stammered Deela, grabbing her forehead.
It was in this moment when Deela was the most puzzled that the hobbit jumped to his feet, a look of blind terror in his eyes. Deela stood too, ready to explain about her pyjamas when the hobbit began to speak in fragments. “Th- that- wh- where- “
Deela shrugged, glancing down at her pyjamas. “The Garage?”
The hobbit’s finger was pointed at Deela, and he went white. “The- the- master’s ring-”
Deela held up her finger in realization, and plunged it behind her back. “Oh no, it’s not that ring. I bought this one at a bookstore where I come from.” The hobbit looked dangerously close to tears. “Are you alright?” Gasped she.
“Sauron’s ring- not the master Frodo’s- I - I always say that-”
“Sam!” Blurted Deela with a grinning realization.
Sam jumped with surprise that this human knew him by name and he narrowed his eyes on her. “H-How did you know that?”
Deela felt her excitement come very close to the surface, as she answered. “I’ve rea- I mean, I’ve heard your story, Sam.
“My- story?” Sam choked, looking dumbfounded.
“Yeah, the story of you, Frodo and the ring. You’re famous where I’m from.”
Sam bit his lip. “I do not understand. Where are you from if I may know?”
Deela was jumpy by this time, not even feeling the wet clothes, being glued to her skin. “I’m from Winnipeg in Canada.
Sam continued to keep his distance from Deela, but a look of amusement came into his eyes at the odd place, he had never travelled. “If you are from such a far place that even I have not heard of, why do you come here?”
Deela was blunt. “I’m dreaming, it’s the best explanation I can give you for now, Sam.” She stepped forward, trembling from head to foot with anticipation. “Can I shake your hand? I’ve never dreamed about you before and I’m finding it really cool.” Sam shuffled back from her. “It’s okay, Sam, I’m really a good person when you get to know me. My friend, Cara could tell you. By the way, I’m Deela Nexic.”
Sam took her hand reluctantly, and a small smile spread from his eyes to his lips. “Samwise Gamgee, son of Hamfast Gamgee,” greeted Sam.
“So, Samwise, the brave?” she added with a blush.
Sam blushed too, and spoke modestly. “I did what any hobbit would do if they had to.”
“And Frodo-”
Deela’s words came to a stop when a film of tears came to Sam’s brown eyes, and a mourning of years showed up in his face. “I must be off, I have not caught a fish and I feel very hungry now.”
Sam went to leave when Deela boldly grabbed for his hand. “Frodo was great, a hero. Please don’t leave, Sam, this is my first time in Middle Earth.”
Sam didn’t take another step, instead he spoke in a choked tone. “There is not much I could show you.”
“Show me the shire,” pleaded Deela.
Sam turned slowly and Deela smiled to the sight of his face. In an action of gratitude, Deela bent down and picked up Sam’s fishing pole. She held it gently, and carefully so Sam sent her a smile. “I will show you Hobbiton, but t’is all I can show you, because I am getting very hungry.”
“I’ll eat with you,” offered she, as they walked off the dock onto a path.
Sam laughed. “If you are dreaming, you may not stay long to eat.”
“Okay, then we’ll see how long I stay, and if you’re still hungry and I haven’t woken up yet, I get to eat with you.”
“All right.”
Deela’s eyes were opened to a world she never thought she’d see in her lifetime. The Shire was indeed the fantasy place that all had imagined it to be with lush green fields, and growing gardens of fresh vegetables along with an assortment of flowers, some she knew, but others that were foreign. Further along the path were houses with green grass roofs and round doors. Hobbit holes, she thought to herself with admiration to their creation. She heard the sounds of creatures around her that her world would never know or hear of. She stopped abruptly to the sight of red tailed bird with an emerald green body and a song that lightened the heart. The bird soared majestically past her face, and she sighed.
The experience of walking with a hobbit through the shire in Hobbiton was incredible. Her eyes popped to the sight of a very familiar house, a hobbit hole that had been described in the book as one of the nicest. Deela made her way up the walkway towards the round shaped door and put her hand to it. “Wow, this is it… Frodo’s house- hobbit hole, I’m sorry.” She was alone, however, for Sam was standing far from the walkway, looking away from the house.
“Nobody lives there,” murmured Sam.
Deela turned to face him sadly. “Oh yeah.” She sighed. “I would live there, it’s so beautiful.” The garden was still well tended and bright pink roses blossomed around the side of the house, but inside was all so dark, like the lingering shadow of Frodo’s absence.
“It may be a little small for you,” commented Sam.
Deela smiled. “I could deal.” She felt the urge to open the door, but stopped for the sake of Sam’s broken heart. Suddenly she was struck by a searing pain and it shot her back into Sam, nearly knocking him off his feet, and to the rocky path below. Her eyes were squinted shut, as the image of a giant fiery eye blocked her view, glaring piercingly at her.
Deela let out a scream and yanked the ring from her finger. Her eyes opened to find that she was no longer in the Shire with Sam, but standing next to her own bed with the ring clutched tight in her fingers. Cold sweat dripped off her stunned face, and her breathing felt more like choking. How could that dream become such a nightmare? She dropped onto her bed, closing her arms around her two pillows, and breathing heavily into them. The ring she held was placed up into the corner of her dresser, and she trembled from the memory of the horrible eye that ripped into her soul. She reached up and pulled the blankets over her. The trembling subsided little by little, but the thought of closing her eyes was almost unbearable. She couldn’t return to Middle Earth. She turned onto her back and swiped her bookmark off her dresser to hold against her. “It was only a dream, it was only a dream,” she chanted until these words played for her and her eyes closed for a third time that night.
A floaty female voice made it’s way through her chant, however. “He will come back and together you will have to destroy it once again- forever.”
The movie, Deela thought sleepily. It’s just a quote from the movie, though she could not remember it.
“Goodnight small human. You have a long journey ahead of you, come tomorrow.”
“Goodnight,” Deela whispered back to the mysterious voice.
She was asleep.
