Drabbles and Ficlets about the Fairy Ancestress of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins
Here they are…delightful little bite-sized stories and an occasional longer one…enjoy!
Here’s our Petal once more…….
Petal–Drabbles & Ficlets about the Fairy Ancestress of the Tooks
By Armariel, a.k.a. RoZita
I. Fairy Lady
Her wavy hair, cascading nearly to her ankles, was three different colors. Bronze-brown underneath, overlaid with coppery red-gold, and on top, streaks of flaming gold that could appear silver at times. Beneath it shone a face of pure delicate beauty, like the lilies-of-the-valley she liked to tuck behind one sharply pointed ear. And her eyes could go from green to blue to lavender to silver to gold and back again.
Her wings, whenever they appeared, seemed made of lace and starlight. Usually, however, she looked merely to be a tiny bubble of twinkling light in the dusk.
~*~*~
II. Omen
Frodo had arisen to answer nature’s call, but once that was accomplished, he heard a soft chiming music outside his window, and saw a flickering brightness. His ten-year-old heart fluttered and he climbed out for a better look.
There in the starry darkness of the midsummer night, danced a radiant little lady about one foot tall amongst the garden flowers. Her hair appeared a candle flame whirling out about her as she moved with quicksilver grace and lightness. Her gown seemed made of a moonbeam.
Am I dreaming? he thought, with a rush of both fear and joy.
~*~*~
III. Secret
“Those who have seen Petal, say my mother was very similar when she was young,” Primula Baggins said as she set the breakfast table. “Of course, the Bagginses scoff at such nonsense.”
“Have you ever seen her, Mum?” Frodo asked.
“No, I think not. Although…I may have heard her voice. It was just before you were born. She whispered, ‘I will let no harm befall him.’ I often thought I dreamt it…but now….Best we not tell your father what you saw. He will not understand, and may be impatient.”
“It will be our little secret,” Frodo said with a wink.
~*~*~
IV. Tattoo
She could make a flower appear on her face just by looking at it and then thinking about it. This morning she had seen a blue morning-glory in the Baggins garden. And she thought of the lad who had watched her that night, how his eyes were near the same shade.
She bent over the forest pool sparkling greenly and silverly in the noonday sunlight, carelessly ordering her long hair to stay back. And an imprint of the morning-glory showed beneath her left eye, looking pleased to be upon such a lovely background.
I’ve a mortal tattoo, she thought laughing.
~*~*~
V. Morning Dew
He was beautiful.
Even she could not have told why. She only knew he was beautiful and she wanted him.
She held her fingers out to the full moon. Strands of moonshine soon found their way to her fingertips, and she wove them into a simple white gown. And washed her hair in morning dew and honeysuckle nectar. Lastly, she put a tiny red rose on her face.
I’m on my way to get myself a mortal mate, she told the other Fairies.
Bloodroot would not be happy about it. But he would have to learn to do without her.
~*~*~
VII. Legendary
So, Petal, what lovespell will you use? Vervain asked.
I shan’t use one. They do not last, and can be used but once.
You think it enough to look big and beautiful, and smell good, and put flowers on your face?
And to sing and dance upon his lawn. I shall make use of my voice.
What of your feet? Will you put hair on them?
Only if he wishes it.
I cannot understand. Hobbits are so dull. Why do you trouble with them?
Petal’s smile lit the entire dell.
After he is mine, they will be legendary, she said.
~*~*~
VIII. Gratitude
“And…and…I got big, and helped him pull the goat from the pit,” Butternut sputtered, “and what do you think he said? ‘Thank you!’ ‘Thank you’ indeed! Of all the…Why are you laughing?”
For his sister Bittersweet was falling over giggling, and Petal laughed also, albeit gently.
“‘Tis considered polite amongst Mortals,” she explained, “to thank one for a favor. To Fairies, to thank one means one is forgetting the good deed, and wanting something to guarantee remembrance. But ’tis different with Mortals. They think it rude not to thank one.”
Butternut thought this over.
“Well,” he sniffed, “I’m glad one of us has lived amongst them, and knows their ways. However, you certainly won’t catch ME doing so. I’m minded to tie a knot in his hair while he sleeps.”
“You would do better to paint a gold streak in it,” Petal suggested.
~~~~
A/N: Tangles in the hair, or “elf-locks” were once thought to be the result of fairy mischief.
~*~*~
IX. Jealousy
“I say,” Bloodroot suggested, “that we tie knots in his hair, paint his eyes yellow, and make his teeth black, so he will look very ugly, and she will not want him.”
“She will just put him back again,” Vervain said. “She has more powers than us. Why don’t you just wait until he dies? Then perhaps you will have your chance…if you change your ways.”
“Change my ways?” he snorted. “I don’t wish to change. Wickedness is part of my allure.”
“Well, obviously you did not explain that to Petal,” Vervain said.
~*~*~
X. A Fairy’s Burden
“So,” Bittersweet said, “did you take the Queen’s suggestion, and paint a gold streak in his hair?”
“I did not,” Butternut said defiantly, “do aught so ridiculous. But neither did I tie knots in it. I’ve my pride to think of.”
“But of course,” Bittersweet said most sweetly. She saw Petal come up behind them, but Butternut did not.
“These Mortals,” he grumbled, “with their thank yous, and their thises and their thats. The things a Fairy must put up with.”
“It gets worse,” Petal said with her most radiant smile.
~*~*~
XI. Harm
“She said she would let no harm befall me,” Frodo said a week after the funeral. “Then why did she do this? Why didn’t she save them?”
“Who?” Bilbo said brushing back a curl from the boy’s wet face.
“HER,” Frodo lifted his head from the pillow. “My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother…or whatever she is. Mum said so.”
“My lad,” Bilbo said, “no harm has befallen you.”
“What could be WORSE than losing BOTH your parents??” Frodo demanded, sitting straight up.
“Never to have had them at all,” Bilbo said, a bit helplessly.
~*~*~
XII. Discovery
But flowers are so pretty, his mother said. Why would you take them apart?
To see how they work, he replied.
Now he sat by the brook, having found that he could make things appear larger by putting them in the water. He could see that the leaf he held was composed of tiny parts that all fit together. If only he could see inside each of them to discover what made them work.
And even as he held it to the sunlight to look through it, suddenly it grew much larger, and he could see each tiny part as though it were as big as the leaf. And all the tinier parts that made it up.
What can be doing that? he wondered, with sudden joy.
And Petal smiled as she held her thumb and forefinger in a circle over his leaf.
You will find out soon, she thought.
~*~*~
XIII. Fragrance
Ever since he had seen her dancing, he had spoken to her betimes, loved her, believed in her, planted a special yellow rose, just for her. And now she had let him down.
He seldom came out of his room at Brandy Hall. Rarely talked to anyone. Ate very little.
One morning his maidservant, Daffodil, came bursting in, crying, “Mister Frodo, look out your window!”
The girl practically had to pull him out of bed. Reluctantly Frodo looked out, saying, “This better be good.”
There, dewy and glistening in the morning sun, was that very same yellow rose.
~*~*~
XIV. Respectability
You’ve met someone, haven’t you, his mother said. I can see it. Why do you not let me meet her? Is she not respectable? Do you not care at all what folks will think?
His smile was slightly maddening.
And that night when he slipped out of bed and went out to the garden, she followed him secretly.
There she saw a slender luminous form, moving with incredible slow grace to the sound of a small drum and tinkling bells, unseen. A shower of pale-blue and silver tiny stars followed in its wake, and suddenly it sprang upward like a startled bird, whirling and scattering more stars.
And then it drifted back to the ground, and she saw a pair of wings, seemingly made of lace and starlight, rising behind it.
And she saw her son sitting motionless, just watching. And she knew nothing would ever be the same again, including herself.
~*~*~
XV. Lo, how a Rose
How did that get here? Mrs Brandybuck asked. That yellow rosebush. Our gardener didn’t plant it.
SHE planted it, Daffodil said. Didn’t she, Mister Frodo?
She who?
The Fairy lady. His great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmum….
Stop talking nonsense, Daff, said Mrs. Brandybuck. That’s all a lot of tall tales. Sheer moonshine.
The others continued to prattle about the Fairy lady. Frodo just stooped beside the small rosebush and touched the yellow petals of the one flower on it.
Bilbo smiled sadly to himself.
Let ’em think it was she, he thought, digging at a bit of dirt under his thumbnail. Why not?
~*~*~
XVI. Sparkles and Twinkles
I saw her last night, his mother said. Don’t think I didn’t. She had no hair on her feet. And was she wearing any clothes? I could scarcely tell. So many sparkles and twinkles in the way. Never saw the like of it.
She was clothed in dewdrops and starshine, he said with dreamy eyes.
Oh, be off with you, she said impatiently.
I do not know, really, Mum, he said. But I would like to find out.
Listen to you! Always wanting to find out things.
At least I come by it honestly, he said with a wink.
~*~*~
XVII. Mushrooms
“Bilbo, look!” cried Frodo as they entered the gate of his new home. And there, on his lawn, outside the window of the room that would be Frodo’s, was a circle of mushrooms.
“A Fairy ring,” Bilbo said. “’Twasn’t there before.”
“Are they good eating?”
“Nay, you don’t want to eat those. Why, I’m surprised at you for asking, lad.”
Frodo told himself he would not look out his window that night. He was done with such nonsense.
He lay with the covers pulled over his head, yet could not sleep.
And then he heard a soft shimmering music. Giving up on his resolve, he finally stole over to the window, taking his lighted candle.
He saw no bright beings dancing in the Fairy ring. But he did see something in the middle.
The yellow rose, softly glowing.
Those mushrooms were most definitely not for eating.
~*~*~
XVIII. Resignation
One does not simply go off and wed a Fairy. Who ever heard of such a thing?
Standing before the burrow with him in the afternoon, she appeared not as an elemental creature, but merely a lovely little woman, dressed as a Hobbitess, her hair trimmed to hip-length and braided. Its colors were synthesized into a beautiful auburn, and she had been practicing keeping her eyes green, supposing he would like green best, being so fond of leaves. In one hand she held a bunch of flowers.
What will I tell my friends? Why must you make me look a fool?
“Hullo, Mother,” she said with a quaint curtsey, offering the bouquet.
What of your children? What will they be like? Will they have wings?
And his mother looked at her feet, clad in green slippers.
Why can’t you be like your brother?
“Hullo, Daughter,” she said, resigned.
~*~*~
XIX. Colors
Fairy eyes come in five colors: blue, lavender, silver, gold, and green. Petal was one of the few whose eyes were all these colors.
Blue denotes humor, a spirit of mischief and merriment, while lavender eyes indicate tranquility, a satisfaction and peace with one’s sphere. Silver is for wisdom, an intuitive feel for the right thing, while gold is for an affinity for beauty and music. And green is for love, of the sort that is selfless and giving and enduring.
And so Petal decided to keep hers green while she was married. At least, when others could see her.
~*~*~
XX. Something Queer
Sam, what’s the matter with you, lad? You used to love going to the Bagginses with me to help with the gardenin’. Now you’re actin’ like there’s a snake over there goin’ to bite ye.
There’s…somethin’ queer goin’ on there, Dad. Somethin’ mighty queer, and somebody ought to tell ’em about it. I’ve looked out my window and seen…somethin’ mighty queer.
Yer tryin’ me patience, lad. What is it you been seein’?
Well sir…it’s in their garden. I been seein’ pretty lights there in the night. ‘Specially in that mushroom circle. And I’ve heard music. You have to get real close to hear it. But I heard it. Then there’s that yellow rosebush. There’s only ever one flower on it, and it stays pretty for two weeks, then when it’s gone, another takes its place. It’s queer, I tell you. And it’s only been happenin’ since Mister Frodo went to live there. Then there’s that light he’s got. You can see it ‘specially when he’s a sleepin’. Before he started livin’ there, he didn’t have it.
Gaffer Gamgee emitted an exasperated snort.
You’ll be tellin’ me that Fairies dance on their lawn next, he said.
~*~*~
XXI. Riding a Swan
Of course you can ride on a swan, Petal said gold-eyed. Here is one now.
And Frodo climbed onto its back. Up it went, into the infinite blueness. And he felt that he was inside a morning-glory that had grown huge. Below him were clouds like endless fields and mountains and copses of snow. And more swans floating in lakes of lavender.
Then it went dark and there were silver stars, and some fell on him and stuck, singing.
And Sam looked at his glowing face shaded in greenness.
What are you dreamin’ of this time, Mister Frodo? he wondered.
~*~*~
XXII. Columbine
You would give a hobbit-child a Fairy name? No one names their children after flowers here.
She’s half Fairy too, Mother, he explained patiently.
But she has to live amongst Mortal children, son. Why not give her a sensible name? You simply cannot call her ‘Columbine’, it’s perfectly ridiculous.
Perhaps it will set a precedent, Petal said smiling. And it seemed the babe smiled in her arms as well.
And so she was called Columbine. And Petal’s sister-in-law, not to be outdone, named her newborn daughter Pansy.
At least the poor little creature has no wings, his mother thought.
~*~*~
Drabble and a half…..
XXIII. The Call
Sam went to bed with the chickens, as his mum would have put it, and as he did he saw a lovely little lady standing right in the middle of his room, all lit up like a lamp she was, and he would have sworn she had wings, although he actually didn’t see any such.
Samwise, she said in her silvery little voice, you must go next door. I must leave him now. That Thing he carries is too much for me any more. You will know soon what you must do.
And before he could say boo, she vanished, just like that, and he jumped up, yanked on his clothes, and fairly jumped out his window. Dashing over to the Bagginses, he heard voices, and went to peek in a window. And could not believe what he saw. And heard.
You will do what I can no longer, Petal thought sadly.
~*~*~
XIV. Toadflax
After Columbine came the two little lads, Valerian and Yarrow, and then baby Marjoram. At the least one’s naming, their grandmother was heard to heave a great sigh of relief, and the older siblings giggled.
“She was afraid you would call it ‘Toadflax’,” Columbine said as she held her tiny sister for the first time.
“Where would she get such an idea?” their dad said. Petal glanced at the two lads, who were looking very innocent indeed, and gazing intently upon the new addition.
“Grandmum takes some odd notions sometimes,” she said smiling beatifically upon her family.
~*~*~
XXV. Tangles
Ugh, here’s another!
What is it, Mum?
Son…ever since you married that…creature, I’ve gotten one tangle after another in my hair! You can’t tell me it wasn’t her doing…Why does she hate me? Because I opposed the match? It was for your own good!
Petal wouldn’t do this, Mother. I will ask her, she’ll know what to do.
Petal appeared in the doorway just then.
This is Bloodroot’s doing, she said. Hang a pony-shoe in your bedroom window and another on the door, Mum. Fairies cannot abide iron. That will keep him out.
And she ran her fingertips over her mother-in-law’s curls, and all the tangles disappeared and the hair was shinier than before.
Petal could not come within three feet of that doorway afterward, but she did not complain. No one had said marriage would be easy. And her mother-in-law frequently baked her favorite strawberry layer cake after that.
~*~*~
XXVI. Mortality
She had to wonder what her husband was feeling when he made love to her.
She greatly enjoyed the closeness. But she knew she was not feeling what he was feeling. What was it? This pleasure that he said was the greatest one could know?
Was he frustrated that she did not feel it with him, that it was enough for her to be able to give it to him, like a meal she cooked just for him, unable to taste any of it herself?
Sometimes I would like to be Mortal for just one day, she thought. Even if it meant becoming acquainted with Pain also. Like those mothers whom she had helped to bear their children. When she asked him, he said it was worth it all, that she did not have to go through that. He could scarcely have borne it.
And yet she continued to wonder….
~*~*~
XXVII. Gossip
In the first few weeks of her marriage, she had felt it was enough just to be with him. Then she began missing Vervain and her other friends. And she wondered what it was to have friends among the hobbit-women.
She walked through the village invisible, just observing. She watched the hobbitesses in the market-place, walking their babies in prams, or chatting over tea or needlework. They talked of their families, or the best way to cook potatoes, or what to do for the croup. Sometimes they exchanged items of gossip, not always malicious, but occasionally so. Petal did not understand the nature of scandal, but the wicked gleams in their eyes told her much. They spoke of who had gotten betrothed or jilted, or who had a little black sheep and what were they doing wrong?
And they spoke of her. She contemplated suddenly appearing before them, just to see the look on their faces.
She’s lovely to look at and seems very charming, but what IS she??
I feel so sorry for his poor mother.
Well, I don’t. She’s a nosy old thing, and she got exactly what she deserved.
I am missing something, Petal thought. But what?
~*~*~
XXVIII. Farewell
It came to her in a dream.
She had not even been aware that he had safely returned home.
And she did not know if he had truly forgiven her for what she could not do.
She arrived in time to see the ship sail away, with the light shining from it as his friends wept on the shore.
She did not weep. But she tried to convey one last message to him.
I did not think I could ever love anyone else that way, after my husband died. Farewell, and may you find joy in your new home…my Beloved.
~*~*~
XXIX. A Boon
Lord Ulmo, can you grant me a boon?
And what would that be, child?
Can you turn back the time? For but a few minutes?
Why do you wish this, daughter of Irmo?
There is one I would farewell. And see one last time.
One hour is all I can give you.
She looked to the retreating figures of his friends. They would have to go through the pain of parting once more….
Never mind, Lord Ulmo. Just see him safely home.
I will, dear one. And I will see to it that he has joy.
Thank you, my Lord.
~*~*~
XXX. Pondering
Sam…did you notice that the mushrooms and the yellow rosebush disappeared…the day after Gandalf told us about the Ring?
Of course I noticed, Mister Frodo. What do you suppose is with that?
It means she’s gone. I don’t know where. And I don’t have good dreams anymore.
Don’t you, sir?
No. I wonder why she’d just leave. Just like that.
Maybe it’s a sign of some kind. Maybe…she thinks you should go on this…journey.
I wonder why she took such an interest in me in the first place. Bilbo said it was because I was marked out for something, special. Do you suppose this is it?
Could be, Mister Frodo. Yes. This could very well be it.
Well, there’s no more doubt in my mind, then. I’m going. Even if she’s not around to see to me any more.
You still got me, Mister Frodo.
Yes, Sam. That I do.
~*~*~
XXXI. Beauty Secrets
Lina dear, WHAT have you been using on your hair? I’ve never seen it look so shiny, and never realized it was such a pretty shade of brown. No grey at all. Tell me love, what’s your secret?
Oh, I simply started brushing it a hundred strokes per night, like my mother taught me.
And she went her way, chuckling to herself. That old biddy had never been so nicey-nice to her before.
Blessed if I’m going to tell her my beauty secrets, she thought as she stopped at the fruit-stand to buy some fresh strawberries. Just let her wonder.
~*~*~
XXXII. Insomnia
The others are asleep now. But I cannot sleep. I do not think it is because we are so high up in this tree. I slept in a tree once before, when I was a lad.
I wonder where she is now, what she is doing.
Perhaps she left because I did not appreciate her. I took what she gave me, and did not thank her. For her protection, for the lovely dreams, the inspiration.
I wonder if I shall ever see her again. I hope so, so I might thank her.
I think perhaps I could love her, but of course that is absurd. She is my ancestress. It would scarcely even be natural.
I wonder if I shall even come back alive. Perhaps she is somewhere about even now, keeping watch as she used to? No, I think not, I would sense her presence. I would have better dreams.
I cannot but wonder if she gave me that dream of the Sea. I dreamt it again. What can it mean?
Is that where I will find my doom?
Or perhaps my greatest joy?
I should be glad of some peaceful sleep now. That is all I would ask….
~*~*~
XXXIII. Aim
Her mother-in-law had suffered no further outrages upon her locks, so they decided it was safe to take the pony-shoes from the door and windows.
But then one day they came upon an astonishing sight: a lady looking exactly like Petal, strutting through the marketplace singing a rude song, hiking her skirts nearly to her knees, flirting with the males, snatching things from small children.
He’s at it again, Petal said with lifted eyebrows.
She snatched an apple from a cart and and started to hurl it, when her mother-in-law took it from her, saying, Allow me. And she flung it, breaking his concentration so he became Bloodroot once more. He turned and saw them, then disappeared like a soap-bubble.
She pulled out a coin and gave it to the apple-vendor, smiling most sweetly.
We hobbits have the best aim, she said to Petal, who smiled back in wicked delight.
~*~*~
XXXIV. Grandmum Took’s Pride
She most certainly had the best-looking grandchildren in town.
Columbine was the prettiest, with her reddish-brown mop of curls, the big hazel eyes like her father’s, her heart-shaped face and dimpled cheeks. She had a merry heart, and liked to find out things, just like her daddy. And she wouldn’t take any guff from anyone. Anybody who tried to trifle with her or her siblings would likely get their noses pulled.
Many years later, Petal would look at Belladonna Took and see much of Columbine in her. Even though it was Valerian who was her ancestor.
Valerian was violently red-haired, clever, quick-tempered, and reckless. Not much he wouldn’t do on a dare. When he got big, he was the world’s greatest flirt. Every lass in the village was in love with him. He married late in life, and begot six children. Only one was a boy, who would become the great-great-grandfather of Isengrim Took II.
Sandy-haired Yarrow admired Valerian without reservation. He was an incorrigible chatterbox, who was constantly in trouble because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He liked to eavesdrop, yet was nearly always discovered because he just couldn’t keep quiet. Which was why no one liked to take him fishing. His father did so, however, just because.
Marjoram was everyone’s baby, even when she grew up. She was very pretty and knew it, and full of oddities and whims. Her mum said she was the most fairy-like of them all, and the only one with changeable eyes. They could look hazel, or green, or grey, according to what colors she wore or the light around her. However, she could not change them at will.
All four of them attracted much attention everywhere they went, whether they tried to or not…and more often than not, they did try.
~*~*~
XXXV. Sweet Dreams and Frozen Faces
Petal had lived among Mortals before. Very briefly, and a very long time ago.
It was when the village had just begun to be built. She was curious about it, and went to watch. A good deal of digging went on, as with rabbits, but the creatures building were most certainly not rabbits.
It was her first sighting of Big Folk.
Her curiosity grew, until she got closer and closer, hovering invisible above it all, until she got a bit too close to a pile of strange objects that had a debilitating effect, and she lost her strength and fell among them. Then one of the big folk picked one of the objects up, and she happened to be caught in it. He then began pounding on a building with it, and it was dreadful. She cried out to him to stop it, very weakly, but he did not seem to hear her.
It was her first encounter with iron.
Then a smaller member of their race came and picked up the hammer after the bigger fellow laid it down, and examined it closely. She called to him, feeling her strength draining more and more until it seemed she could not even raise her voice, and she wondered if she would expire like an insect.
Then it spoke.
Daddy, this squeaks!
Nonsense, me lad, Daddy said. Hammers don’t squeak. They go blam blam BLAM! Didn’t yer hear?
It’s a squeakin’ Dad, listen.
But instead of checking, Daddy went inside the round door, and the offspring followed him in, where a female was using a bundle of long straws tied to a long stick on the floor, and a much smaller female sat holding what appeared to be a babe but it did not move or cry. She watched the lad with interest as he waved the hammer about. Then she would try it out.
This time Petal became dislodged from it.
She flew toward the door, but realized the hinges were of iron.
She was trapped inside the burrow. But at least she was alive.
The wall-holes all had curved iron things hung in them. This family was taking no chances letting Fairies in.
She would have to attach herself to someone, and when that person went out, she would go out also.
She chose the little one holding the inanimate babe. The child was closest to the door at the moment.
‘Tis almost time for supper, the older female called out. Ferris, Meggy, go out and get washed up now.
So there was Petal’s chance to escape. And yet, she was intrigued. She wished to stay and observe for a while.
Daddy took the two offsprings outside where he pulled up water from a deep hole in the ground. Soon the children were rubbing it on their faces, and the boy threw some at the girl, which made her squeal and cry out.
Daddy, he splashed meeee!
Ferris, leave your sister alone afore I knuckle yer head, Daddy said, sounding angry.
Baby, Ferris said, and Daddy brought his knuckles down on his head. Ow! The boy cried rubbing the top of his head and screwing up his face.
Petal noticed that all three had squigglies all over their heads, as well as on their feet. She decided it looked attractive, so she made her own hair so, before she remembered that they could not see her.
They all went back indoors, where the older female, whom the others called Mummy, was setting things on a platform with long legs. A pleasant smell permeated the air. Then all sat down on two shorter platforms on shorter legs, and began eating. Mummy told Ferris not to take such big bites, and then she told Meggy not to play with her food. Daddy was taking bigger bites than anyone, but Mummy did not tell him not to do so. Petal, invisible, went about sampling bits of the food, finding that some of it appealed to her. Once more Ferris saw fit to annoy his sister, putting his fingers in the corners of his mouth and pulling it to the sides, crossing his eyes, then pulling them downward at the outer corners and flicking his tongue like a snake.
Ferris-lad, your face will freeze that way, Mummy said. Petal stared at him, waiting to see his face freeze, but it did not happen. Meggy’s lower lip protruded and her eyes got wet.
Someone is likely not to get any arfters, Daddy said looking sternly at Ferris. Petal once more was puzzled, wondering what this could mean.
Then Mummy brought in something on a large disk, with red berries on the top. She cut it into wedges and put one on each plate, then took a silver vessel and poured thick white stuff all over each wedge, and the children’s eyes widened in evident delight.
And Ferris’s face did not freeze. It looked quite warm, in fact.
But then he put a blob of white stuff on his tongue, and a small berry on top of that, and extended it toward Meggy, rolling his eyes around and around and pulling his ears outward, and Petal had a sudden inspiration. She waved her hand, and suddenly Ferris’s face stuck, his tongue still protruding, his eyeballs fixed looking upward.
Mummy, look! Meggy exclaimed, pointing at her brother. Mummy looked, frowning. Ferris made a strange noise but spoke no words.
Ferris-lad, stop that at once, Mummy said, but the boy could only make more noises.
Upon me word, his face IS froze, Daddy exclaimed, looking upon his son with fearful eyes.
Meggy giggled. Mummy looked sharply at her, and the giggle died. That was a pity; it was such a lovely sound.
Ferris, I said stop it, Mummy said. And once more he made the noise.
He truly is froze, Hanna, Daddy said. Look, he can’t blink. Something is goin’ on.
Petal was puzzled at this other name for Mummy. Why did she have two names?
I want to try it, Meggy said. Mummy-Hanna looked sharply at her once more as the child’s chubby forefinger made as if to dip itself in the white stuff.
Petal decided the joke had gone on long enough, and she unfroze Ferris’s face. He began to whimper a bit.
Something queer is goin’ on, Daddy said, and I mean to get to the bottom of it.
Never mind it, dear, Mummy said. He was just bein’ silly, like usual. Ferris-lad, sit up and eat yer cake before I take and throw it to the pig.
Later on Mummy put the remains of the supper into a large container, and carried it outside. Since the handle of it was iron, Petal did not go with her. She remained in the cooking-room, looking at the dishes piled into a very large wooden bowl—or tub. They were smeared over with food and smelled rather badly, so Petal decided to clean them and surprise Mummy when she came back. She waved a hand over them, and behold, they were sparkling, and then she piled them nicely, plates on one stack, cups in another, bowls, eating-sticks, all in neat piles.
Then she went into the other big room, and saw Daddy sitting and putting some dead grass into a tiny cup attached to a curved tube. He set the grass on fire, then put the tube in his mouth, and watched little Meggy holding her false baby and rocking it in her arms. He seemed to have a soft glow about him. Then Ferris came in, making a whistling sound through puckered lips. He carried something on a string. It consisted of pieces of wood held together with bits of metal, and she saw that it was meant to represent a person, just as the cloth thing Meggy held represented an infant. Ferris dangled his wooden person and shook it, making it click and clack, appearing to dance, and he made it dance on Daddy’s feet, then on Meggy’s head, and she cried out and slapped it away, and Daddy told him to stop picking on his sister or he’d take that thing away and put it in the fire.
And once more Petal had an inspiration, and she caused the string holding it to break so that the wooden dancer fell to the floor, then sprang up and began to dance on its own, all about the room. The children gasped, and Daddy sat transfixed, as it leaped up on articles of furniture and danced on them. Then Meggy laughed in delight, and Ferris’s face nearly froze again, and the cup of burning grass Daddy held in his mouth fell into his lap. He came untransfixed then as the ashes fell onto his breeches, and picked it up and knocked the ashes into a little bowl beside him, but he did not take his eyes off the wooden thing. Finally it came back to Ferris, who backed off from it fearfully, and collapsed once more in front of him.
Somethin’ mighty queer is goin’ on, Daddy exclaimed. I must of left a pony-shoe off one of the winders. I better go and check on it.
Mummy came in just then, saying Who done the dishes? Ferdy, was that you?
So Daddy did have another name also.
And Petal noticed then that Mummy’s belly was a bit large for the rest of her, and she smiled gently as she divined the reason. She also noticed that although Mummy was a good bit plump, she had a pretty face and rosy cheeks and sparkling big brown eyes, and a ready smile particularly when she watched her family. And the squigglies on her head were bound into a coil at the back of her neck, and partially covered with something white and ruffled like a big white flower.
After the children were taken to their nesting-places, Mummy sat near Daddy and took a thin pointed silver object with string connected to it, and with this she made two pieces of cloth stick together. So that was how clothing was made, thought Petal. It looked a slow and tedious process, but Mummy seemed to enjoy it somehow. Daddy said he must go and purchase some more pony-shoes from the blacksmith tomorrow, while Mummy told him smiling that he was pulling her leg. Another puzzlement, since he was doing nothing of the sort, but he only made a little snorting noise, and said he saw what he saw. Petal almost giggled then.
Later she left them talking quietly and went into the children’s room. They lay asleep in the two nesting-places, Meggy still clutching her false baby, and Ferris had a cloth bear-cub in his arm, to Petal’s surprise. She smelled iron, and saw two iron bowls under the beds. She realized she would have to go out soon, but not before bestowing some dreams on the children. She turned Meggy’s doll into a real babe, and put it into her arms so she might have a taste of what it would be like to hold the new little brother or sister she would soon have. And she brought Ferris’s wooden dancer to life once more, and the bear also, so that they danced with each other, and Ferris watched with wonder until he too felt drawn to dance, and they capered over a flowering meadow while Meggy rocked the babe in her arms beside a silvery streamlet where fishes came and nibbled at her toes in the whispering water.
And Petal let them see her only in those dreams.
Soon she found a nesting-place in Mummy’s basket of cloth-scraps, Mummy and Daddy having gone to their nest as well. Before they retired, she gave them a dream also, in which they saw a blessing fall upon their home, and the apple-trees grew thick and high, and the berries in the garden especially red and plump and sweet, the cow gave so much milk they could scarcely use it all and had to sell some, and the hens laid so many eggs that many had to be sold also.
And so they found it when they all awoke next day. Not all at once, but gradually, and Daddy forgot about buying the pony-shoes and instead, at Petal’s unseen bidding, constructed a swing in a high tree and a box full of river-sand, and in a few days the children were playing together more nicely, Ferris less inclined to tease his sister, and Meggy less apt to cry and whine over small things. It seemed they all sensed Petal’s presence, and a spirit of joy and gladness pervaded like the freshness of the early morning.
And at last as she took her final leave a week later, she noticed a piece of wood out by the path to the burrow, which had some writing on it: THE TOOKS. The letters were drawn very badly, and she had no idea what the words meant. Yet it seemed important, so she waved her hand, and the letters became beautiful and graceful, with little dots within the circles like berries on little cakes, and the S with a long tail like a pretty snake, twining protectively about the other letters.
She would visit other families from time to time, yet it was this one to which she returned, feeling compelled somehow; it seemed this one was chosen for something, although it would be many, many years before she knew. She saw the farm flourish and become fertile and lush, and the family grew wealthy and yet always willing to help out their less fortunate neighbors. She saw Ferris and Meggy and the other children that came along grow and marry and have children of their own. And one of the descendents would be he who became her husband.
And when she told Valerian his face would freeze if he persisted in contorting it at his sisters, he stopped, for he knew that it would, for absolute certain, if only for a time….
Yellow Rose Publications 