To Catch a Thief

The hobbit’s eyes darted back and forth beneath his mop of brown curls. Satisfied that he was alone, he stealthily crept forward to the enormous box.

Standing on his toes to peer inside, his eyes widened as he saw the array of colors. Leaning forward even more until his entire body was nearly submerged, the hobbit continued to rummage through the carton with his tiny hands.

“Bilbo Baggins!” The hobbit yelped at the dreaded, but not unexpected, shout and fell into the box with a thump.

A large hand reached inside and plucked the squirming child from the sea of blue and red and green and gold.

Beneath the wide brim of his hat the wizard glowered at Bilbo, and the poor young hobbit shook with fright.

“A box of fireworks is no place for a hobbit to explore,” Gandalf said sternly. “You should have asked first if you wanted to see them.”

After a moment of staring down the trembling hobbit, Gandalf retrieved a blue cone-shaped object from the box.

“Most of them are too dangerous for children,” Gandalf admitted, “but I keep a few special ones aside for my favorite lads and lasses.”

Bilbo looked away, certain that he would never be this wizard’s favorite.

With a wave of Gandalf’s hand the cone burst into light, a steady stream of stars and dragonflies flowing from its top. Bilbo’s eyes widened at the sight but he made an effort to be obedient, and stayed silent.

“For you, my lad,” Gandalf said gently and handed it to Bilbo with a smile. Bilbo stuttered his thanks and scampered away, eager to show his friends.

The wizard laughed a little as he watched the would-be thief disappear into the crowd. He would have to remember to keep an eye on that hobbit.