Deela awoke the next morning to the sound of her phone, ringing. She grabbed it, and answered in a barely audible husk. “Uh huh?”
“Deela? Are you still asleep? We have school in ten minutes. I’m on my way to pick you up.”
Deela didn’t get a word in before her best friend, Cara hung up the phone, giving Deela barely even five minutes to get dressed and washed up. She would even have to skip breakfast. Deela’s stomach grumbled as though it was as annoyed as she was that Cara only lived a house away. She leapt to her feet, picked out jeans and a lavender sweater, threw them on then brushed the sleep knots out of her hair. Absentmindedly, she bent towards her dresser and swiped the ring from it to slip into her pocket. The bookmark still lay there, and she didn’t take it, but stared at it, at Frodo with his possessive eyes on the ring he held. Elijah Wood played a very convincing Frodo, she thought with a small nod.
Something caught her eye, drawing her from the bookmark to the pyjamas lying over the end of her bed. They were visibly wet, the blue and silver stripes were dark in color and with a touch to the thin strapped shirt, she gasped. It felt soaked. It occurred to her that her dream involved an incident of almost drowning, but that was only a dream. “I woke up in a cold sweat too. That’s probably it,” she reasoned to convince her muddled brain. She picked up the shirt and bottoms and tossed them into her laundry basket in front of her bed.
There was a loud knock on her door. “Five minutes, are you ready?” Cara asked with impatience.
“Yes,” called Deela. She crossed her room and opened the door. Cara stood there, brown hair in a ponytail, bag on her back, frown on her face. “Sorry- lets go,” muttered Deela and the two left for school.
It was a nice day in the city of Winnipeg. The sun shone down warmly, highlighting the streets of the awakening neighbourhood. Deela smiled. Cara glanced sideways at her. “What’s up, Dee?” She asked.
Deela looked at her. “I dreamed that I met Samwise Gamgee, and he was so sweet that he took me to see Hobbiton in the Shire.”
“Uh- okay, you met a hobbit? You saw the Shire. Nope, there’s nothing strange at all about that,” remarked Cara with a traditional eye roll that she always used whenever Deela said something strange, and it was often. She was obsessed with Frodo.
Deela sighed. “It was great, I saw Frodo’s home, even touched the door.”
“Dee, you’re strange,” laughed Cara.
Deela’s eyes landed on Cara, anger rising within them. “It was a dream, I’m not a nutter, you know. I don’t pretend to think that Middle Earth exists outside of fantasy.”
“Neither does Frodo,” whispered Cara.
Deela huffed an annoyed sigh, and quickened her pace till she was walking ahead of Cara. “I was joking around, Dee. Take it easy, and- slow down.”
“Don’t you dream?” Snapped Deela, without looking at Cara.
Cara hurried to Deela’s side, answering in between breaths. “Yes- I - dream-”
“Have you ever dreamed of somewhere that wasn’t here?”
“Um- no,” replied Cara. “My psyche-” she stopped with a pant of breath and grabbed Deela’s shoulder. “My psyche must know that if I’m not gonna visit some place like Middle Earth or Hogwarts in my real life then why the hell would I in a dream, you know?”
Deela faced Cara, and her anger receeded. “I’m not crazy, Cara, I just like Frodo.”
“I know, Dee.” A grin came to Cara’s face. “I like the elf.”
Deela giggled. Both girls had overcome their quarrel just as the buzzer sounded. They were late, and they raced up the stairs, crashed through the doors of the school, hurtled up the first floor steps, and burst into their English class- still late.
All throughout the lesson, after receiving detention from their teacher, Miss Caref, Deela was constantly being taunted by a student that sat directly behind her. She knew the student’s name although they were far from friends, she was called Shannon. Her voice was like nails across a chalkboard to Deela, who pressed her hands to her head which hovered above her closed binder. “Hey, you gonna dream about Frodo again? Hey, hey Deela.”
Deela lowered her eyes, not wanting to remember a day two weeks ago when she had fallen asleep in class due to a long night before of studying for a math test, which she failed, that and the combination of an eighteenth century film with phrases that lost all meaning for her. She couldn’t control her eyes from drooping or her head from sagging onto her desk, just as she couldn’t control the dream that came after. A dream that would be Shannon’s ammunition for the rest of Deela’s school years.
Deela had finished watching the last of the Lord of the Rings trilogy although she couldn’t remember it (she dreamed before the movie was released), and stood up to an empty theater. Across from her shone something gold, and obviously very expensive. She made her way to it, and leaned down. Her eyes widened to the sight of the one ring. A hiss of a voice echoed around her, and a thought occurred- this was Frodo’s ring. She picked it up and called throughout the empty theater. “Frodo! Frodo! Your ring, you dropped your ring!”
A strange melodic whisper came from the ring, sending her into some sort of hypotic trance. She was falling, but her voice came none the less- “Frodo!”
Deela shook her head of the dream’s raised memories and felt a tap of a pen on her shoulder. “Did you get his ring to him yet? I’m still on pins and needles.”
Shannon snickered, and Deela pressed a hand to her face, ignoring the looks and laughter of the students who were either friends with Shannon or simply laughed because they didn’t want to be the subject of humiliation. Deela felt a red heat rise into her face, and she felt close to clocking Shannon, but her embarrassment prevented her from it. If she messed that up there would only be more laughter and she’d probably be put into detention, like she needed another one. Instead, she pretended she couldn’t be bothered, and opened her binder to start copying notes from the overhead. She looked up, the sun had beamed it’s brightest yet, and she was suddenly distracted by its glow. She turned and was given a jolt for there, standing on the lawn in front of the school was a woman dressed in flowing white robes. Long golden hair fell in waves over her shoulders and she looked to be smiling.
“Deela! Deela, will you pay attention!”
Deela twisted right around to Miss Caref’s deep frown. She was posed on giving the girl a week’s worth of detentions. Deela spoke, however. “I’m sorry, the sun was in my eyes.”
Shannon snorted from behind her, but Deela ignored her to keep her eyes routed on her teacher. The threat faded from Miss Caref’s eyes, and she gave an impatient sigh. “Turn your desk a little then.” She addressed the class next. “Onto the assignment. You will all take a moment to think of what you have accomplished in your lives, then you will write a story about it, A thousand words is your limit, there must be a striking title and I want it handed in by next Friday, that gives you a week You will lose marks if it‘s late.”
Shannon poked Deela again. “The accomplishment must be real, Deela. None of your lame stories about Frodo. I’m betting you don’t have any real accomplishment to write about. Oh well, guess you’ll have to fail- your life story.”
Deela closed her eyes, and pushed her binder away to lay her head on her desk. How she wanted to poke Shannon in the eye with her pen, but as much loathing as she felt, she couldn’t deny the truth, even coming from an enemy. She hadn’t accomplished anything. She was barely passing tenth grade. With this horrible thought, she got up at the end of the lesson, and approached Miss Caref’s desk, eyes downcast. “Um- about the assignment-”
“Yes?” Said Miss Caref, and lifted her head. A weary look was in her soft green eyes.
“I don’t think I can write it.”
The green eyes suddenly lit and a warmth entered them. There was sympathy in her face for Deela. “What do you think I expect from you, Deela?” She asked.
Deela shrugged, trying to avoid the tears that were coming into her throat. “I don’t know.”
“Miss Caref met her eyes, revealing the part of her that truly loved her career, and had been hoping to help a student. “This assignment is a chance to look inside yourself, and I mean, really look. There are stories in each of us, even if we can’t see them. Do you understand?”
Deela shook her head. “I’m not anything special, I couldn’t write about something great I’ve done, cause I haven’t done anything great.”
“Deela,” murmured Miss Caref. “Try to write something, really delve deep, and discover. If you really feel like there is nothing there, come to me, and I’ll help you.” Miss Caref stood then, with encouragement in her eyes. “I see it. There is something special in you, Deela, it just hasn’t surfaced yet. Remember, you have a week.” She winked, and sat with a smile as she began to grade papers.
Deela left slightly shaken by her teacher’s confidence in her. Her hand went to her pocket and felt for the ring. It was still there. She caught sight of Cara, striding to catch up with her. She looked upset. “Great, a long story to write. I hate writing, you know. And we have a week, yet.”
“What are you gonna write about?” Deela asked.
“My dancing. I think it deserves a thousand words for fourteen years of lessons. What about you, Dee?”
Deela laughed. “I can’t write anything, and unless something happens to me this week, I’ll be failing this class too.” Deela had slowed which proved a bad idea when a group of roudy nineth graders pushed past her, nearly knocking her into the wall.
Cara yelled after them in boiling anger. She hated the nineth graders. “Get some manners!” They were always so rude.
Deela slid down along the wall, and pulled her knees up to her chin. “This sucks,” she grumbled. “I’m not good at anything.”
“That’s not true,” murmured Cara, kneeling in front of Deela. “You’re great at obsessing.”
Deela’s eyes rose in frustration. “Thank you. Tell me again, why you’re friends with me?”
Cara laughed and helped Deela to her feet. “Come on, we have math next.”
Deela groaned. The two were on their way to the second set of stairs when a familiar voice ceased Deela’s steps. Shannon had caught up to them. A gaggle of girls and some guys had followed. “What was the teacher telling you? Did it have anything at all to do with failing, cause that wouldn’t be a surprise.”
“Piss off, Shannon!” Shot Cara, and tried to lead Deela away.
“It comes with too much daydreaming, you know. Did you get another detention for that, cause no one believes the sun was really in your eyes.”
Deela broke away from Cara, and raced down the steps towards the foyet while tears splashed down her cheeks. “Deela! Dee! Where are you going! We have math now!” Deela could hear the outbreaks of laughter amongst the crowd along with Cara’s angry curses to them.
With a crash, Deela hit the floor, and lost her bag and books as they slid straight into the doors. She had gone head on into someone, and never thought to look before another horrible event happened that would destroy the rest of her high school years. Before she could apologize however, an arm extended and a small hand, glowing serenely stretched to her. Deela grabbed it, and was helped to her feet. Her mouth gaped. The woman she had seen on the lawn was standing in front of her now with an expression of concern on her face.
Deela stepped back, and a hand went to her pocket as though she thought the woman was there to steal her ring. “Who are you?” She choked.
The woman smiled warmly. “I am someone who is seeking your help,” she spoke in a low and regal tone.
“My help?” Gasped Deela, shaking her head. “I can’t help you, I don’t even know you.”
“Must you help only those whom you know? That may be very limited in a world so big as this,” said the woman.
Deela sucked in a breath. “I have to go,” she muttered.
“But you have it,” cried the woman, and her eyes went wide with terror.
Deela ran past the woman, gasping as she rammed her shoulder into the doors to leave quickly. Cara’s voice came after her in plea and misunderstanding. “Dee! Wait- wait up!”
Deela stopped only long enough to grab Cara’s arm and run with her down the street. She spoke, but through her heavy panting. “I saw- that woman- staring at me- she wants- she wants-”
Cara veered Deela to the right off the main road and into the back lane. A trailer with an orange tarp was enough to hide them from view for the moment of explanation so the two girls ducked along behind it, and crouched out of view. Cara spoke first, gripping her chest. “You were saying something about the woman, wanting something. What does she want?”
Deela pulled the ring from her pocket and showed it to Cara, breathing heavily. “She knows I have it.”
“Some nutter woman wants your cheap ring?” Choked Cara. “Does she know it’s not the real one?”
Deela shrugged, and shook visibly, even her teeth chattered. “I don’t know, but I need to get home. I have to call the police- or something.”
Cara lifted to peek over the tarp. “I don’t see her. Maybe she gave up. Someone should tell her she can get the same ring at Coles.”
Deela sighed, and crushed the ring in her fist. “I missed math.”
“Same.”
Cara turned to her and giggled. The two stood up to start home when a scream leapt from Cara’s mouth and Deela put a hand to hers. The woman was there behind Cara and her light hand was on Cara’s shoulder.
“Let her go,” demanded Deela. Deela then opened her palm and extended the ring to the woman. “Here, take it and let my friend go- please.”
The woman smiled, then, and shook her head. “It is not that which I seek, it is you.”
Deela pulled the ring back to her, and Cara yanked away from the woman to stand next to Deela. “Why me?” Asked Deela quietly, not wanting to set off this woman.
“Tis you who has the one ring.”
Deela shook her head. “No, I don’t. This ring came off a bookmark. I bought it for 3.99, at Coles. Go there and you’ll see for yourself.”
The woman’s eyes flashed. “Show it to me,” she ordered, a hardness in her tone, but it was not for the girls, but for the ring which lay innocently enough on Deela’s palm. Deela held it out carefully. “There is not one marking upon the band. Do you see?”
Deela nodded. “I noticed that before, but it was probably just a mistake.”
“Tis no mistake,” said the woman, and her hand came over the ring, though not at all touching it. “I will show you something. It will not hurt, but the sight may frighten you. I mean you no harm, and this will cause none.”
Deela took a long breath and exhaled, wondering if she should close her eyes. She didn’t. The woman’s hand had at once emitted a white flame which began to circle the ring, though no heat came from the flame. Deela blinked to the sight.
“Do not flinch. Look at the ring.”
Deela bent her face close to the rising white flames, and Cara’s face came close to hers in wonder and amazement. Within the flames, the ring was glowing brilliantly, and along the band were forming words thinner then a strand of hair. Whispers could be heard as loud as shouts off mountain tops and Deela had to catch her breath.
“That is wicked,” gasped Cara.
The voice, however had shaken Deela. “One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.”
One wave of the woman’s hand and the fire went out instantly. The ring was silent. Deela looked reluctantly to the pale face of Cara, who after admitting she thought the ring was wicked, now saw that the ring was truly a threat if it could whisper and place fear in their hearts. The woman spoke then in a voice firm and no longer warm. “Sauron will live again if his ring is not destroyed. You must make the journey to Mordor and cast the ring into the fire where it will be destroyed. Seven days will mark the ring’s power and even the bearer will feel and succumb to it’s will if she is not strong.”
Deela stared at the woman, then down at the ring in her hand. “Seven days?”
Cara shook her head. “We can’t. Our assignment is due in seven days, plus- how do we get to Mount Doom if there isn’t one?”
The woman closed her eyes sullenly, speaking with many years in her voice. “You are the only one to whom this task can belong. You are the soul bearer of the one ring, and with it- the very fate of Middle Earth.”
“But I- I just bought it,” whimpered Deela.
“Hello! We have an issue with the existence or lack there of, of Middle Earth,” said Cara in agitation and disbelief.
The woman looked hard pressed on what she was about to utter next. “You must put the ring on to find Middle Earth, though I am not sure of where you will end up.” She bent before Deela, taking her hand. “You did it once,” she whispered.
Deela’s voice cracked. “That was a dream.”
“It was no dream. Go back, for it is up to you.”
The woman vanished before their eyes, and Deela glanced to the sky suddenly filled with a terrified courage. The sun was at it’s highest point in the sky, signalling the middle of her first day. She had seven days, and she decided she wouldn’t waste them. She turned to Cara who shook visibly, a look of dread in her pale green eyes.
“No- we can’t, Deela. Middle Earth? None of it is real, and we don’t know who that woman was.”
Deela clutched the ring in her fist, and nodded. “I think it’s real, and I think this ring is too. Cara, this thing is dangerous, and we have a lot of dangerous people in this world who do not need to get their hands on something so powerful. I think we should get rid of it.”
Cara sighed heavily and gripped her friend’s arm. “I think this is crazy,” Cara admitted.
“For the first time, I totally agree with you,” replied Deela, and closed her eyes before slipping the ring onto her finger. I’m not ready for this, she thought.
