Part 14

Frodo had decided to let his questions go unanswered. He had eaten breakfast without questioning Merry or Pippin. Pippin had slept through first breakfast in spite of the fact that the entire smial was filled with the smell of bacon. Merry had done something very un-Merry-like and had come to first breakfast in his night shirt without his dressing gown or his trousers. Looking slightly uncomfortable, Merry had seated himself at the table and grinned. "This smells wonderful, Sam. In fact, I don’t think I’ll even take time to dress before eating. Frodo might get too far ahead of me."

Frodo had given Merry a questioning look but Merry had filled his mouth with bacon and looked away so Frodo had not pressed the issue. Sam had turned quickly to the door announcing that he would be back just after the noon meal to give Master Pippin his lessons. "If I might say so, Mister Frodo," Sam suggested nervously with a quick glance at Merry. "You might want to just let Master Pippin sleep in. He’s been workin’ right hard on his carpentry and that way he’ll get a fresh start. I put back a plate for him near the fire so it’ll keep warm ‘til he wakes." Sam had proceeded to hurry out of the kitchen and off to his morning’s work.

Again Frodo looked at Merry. "Fine. Don’t bother to explain," Frodo said picking up his knife and putting some jam on his toast. "Just tell me where Pippin is now."

"Asleep," Merry mumbled around a mouth full of egg.

"In the barn?" Frodo asked.

"My room," Merry said.

Frodo wanted to ask how this had come about but he could see that Merry wasn’t in a talkative mood just now so he settled for being grateful that Pippin wasn’t in the barn. This helped explain why Merry was on the sofa and also why Merry had not got dressed for first breakfast. Merry had not wanted to wake Pippin by going into his room and rummaging about for his dressing gown or his clothing. There were too many unanswered questions for this early in the day. Frodo sighed and took a drink of his tea.

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Sam handed the hammer to Master Pippin a bit reluctantly. He would have to get this over with sometime and now was going to have to be the time. He’d been dreading the point at which Master Pippin would be using the hammer again, but he’d run clean out of things for the lad to do that didn’t involve the darned tool! He gave Pippin the handle of it but held fast to the top and looked seriously at the lad. Pippin tugged a bit and then returned Sam’s gaze with a puzzled one. "What’s wrong, Sam?"

"Well, there’s a thing or two that needs sayin’ a’fore you start hammerin’," Sam said. "Why don’t you lay the hammer down on the table until I get finished?"

Pippin was reluctant to let go of what Sam suspected was his favorite tool, but the lad obeyed and put the hammer down. Sam let out a long breath and realized that he’d been holding it from the moment that Master Pippin’s hand had come into contact with the hammer. Pippin leaned his head to one side and gave Sam a very confused look but didn’t say anything.

Sam grinned, feeling foolish, and said, "Now, a’fore you and I started workin’ together, did Mister Tunnely teach you anything about how to use a hammer?"

Pippin instantly picked up the hammer and smacked it hard on the table. "Every one knows how to use a hammer, Sam," Pippin said looking a bit annoyed. "It’s easy." Before Sam could object, Pippin raised the hammer again and proceeded to bring it down on his own thumb with quite a bit of force. Pippin’s face drained of all color and his eyes watered. He let the hammer fall to the table top and sucked in a breath of air.

Sam walked over and took hold of the lad’s wrist and gently lifted the hand so that he could inspect the injured thumb. Master Pippin stood very still and tried his best not to cry. Sam examined the thumb. "Can you move it?" he asked.

Pippin nodded but made no effort to flex the thumb.

"I know it hurts, but let me see if you can move it, Master Pippin," Sam said again.

Pippin shut his eyes tightly and slowly wiggled the thumb. "Ouch," he said softly.

"Sit down on that crate over yonder and I’ll go and get something cold to put on your thumb," Sam instructed.

Pippin looked at the hammer for a minute and then moved over toward the crate. Sam was very tempted to take the hammer with him but he decided that Master Pippin could be trusted not to touch the thing just now. The lad was in too much pain to give that another go. As Pippin sank down onto the crate, Sam hurried toward Bag End trying not to think about the hammer.

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Frodo was standing in Pippin’s room again. There had to be a reason why the lad wouldn’t sleep in here but Frodo couldn’t see anything that would explain it. Pippin was not the sort that had to have company in order to fall asleep. Oh, naturally, as a tiny child, Pippin had crept into other people’s rooms looking for comfort and company, but he had out-grown that when he’d been about thirteen or so. Pippin had still slept with Merry from time to time. This was mostly because Pippin wanted to talk and tell stories rather than sleep. Pippin wasn’t afraid, he just wanted to stay awake longer. This visit had been different though. Pippin had not crept into Merry’s room for conversation. Merry had noticed it too and had even remarked on it to Frodo.

Frodo sighed. Merry had sounded rather hurt when he’d brought the subject up. "He doesn’t seem the same, Frodo. He never comes into my room any more. He just goes straight to bed."

Frodo’s eyes suddenly widened. He had gone straight to bed. That first week or so, Pippin had gone to bed in this very room and slept all night long. It had been Merry who had been displeased with things. It had been Merry who seemed upset because he’d lost his night time visitor, but Pippin had been sleeping soundly. Frodo scratched his head and tried to recall exactly when Pippin had started wandering the smial at night.

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Sam wrapped the cold cloth around Pippin’s sore thumb. "That should help things along," Sam said.

"At least the nail will grow back if it falls off," Pippin mumbled.

Sam smiled remembering that earlier conversation. "It will, but there’s no sense in testin’ the theory," Sam said. "What you need to be doin’ is avoidin’ smackin’ your thumb with that hammer."

Pippin nodded. "I guess maybe I don’t know how to use a hammer, do I?" Pippin asked, looking embarrassed.

"Everybody has to learn, Master Pippin," Sam said. "Hobbits aren’t born knowin’ how to do things. That’s why you get parents and older relatives, or it’s one reason."

"It looks like it’d be easy to do," Pippin said. "You just take hold of it and swing."

Sam winced a bit as he thought of Master Pippin swingin’ that hammer. "You don’t swing it, and you have to take careful aim at what you plan to hit so’s you don’t, well, so’s you don’t hit your thumb or anything."

"I didn’t mean to hit my own thumb," Pippin said a bit crossly.

"I know you didn’t, but you didn’t stop to look where you were hitting a’fore you smacked the table, did you?" Sam asked.

Pippin looked up at him unhappily. "No."

Sam walked over to the table and retrieved the hammer. "Now, I’m goin’ to show you a thing or two about this hammer while your thumb is recoverin’. Pay attention cause you’re runnin’ out ‘o thumbs."

Pippin looked at his hands and sighed. He still had a strip of white cloth around his left thumb from when he’d hit it before and now his right thumb was throbbing. It really was a good thing that the thumb nails would grow back.

"First off, which hand do you write with?" Sam asked.

"The right one," Pippin said hoping that Sam didn’t intend on giving him a writing lesson. He was getting enough of those from Frodo.

"Then how did you smack your right thumb?" Sam asked.

Pippin looked at his hands and then back at Sam. "I was using my left hand to swing the hammer that time. Does it matter?"

"If you’re right hand is the one that you use most often for things like writin’ and carvin’ meat and catching a ball and such, then you should always use your right hand to hold the hammer," Sam said. "You'll have more control that way."

Pippin looked at his hands again and shrugged. Sam was usually right about things, but Pippin had two sore thumbs and so he suspected that in his case, it really didn’t matter which hand held the hammer. Either way, he was likely to wind up with a sore thumb. He decided not to say this and listened as Sam continued.

"Next thing to know is that you don’t have to raise the hammer clean over your head in order to drive in a nail," Sam said. "You can get better aim and almost as much strength into your swing by raisin’ it from the elbow instead of usin’ your shoulder." Sam went on when Master Pippin didn’t say anything. It was always best to take advantage of Master Pippin’s quiet moments because they’re weren’t many of them. "You also gotta aim at what you plan to hit. Before when you were showin’ me how you could use the hammer, what did you aim for?"

"Well, I wasn’t aiming at my own thumb," Pippin said. "I meant to hit the table is all."

"That’s a mighty big target," Sam said.

Pippin blushed. "And I still missed."

"I don’t mean that as no insult, Master Pippin," Sam said. "I mean that you should have a point in mind when you aim. You shouldn't just aim at the whole table and hope you hit some part of it.  You know how it is when you try to skip a stone or throw a rock. Don’t you aim at a point a’fore you toss?"

Pippin nodded.

"Well, it’s the same with hammers," Sam said. "You have to aim. Walk over to the table and I’ll show you what I mean."

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"Merry," Frodo said hurrying over to his younger cousin who was sitting on the sofa reading. "Merry!"

"What?" Merry asked. Looking up to see Frodo standing in front of him. "You look like you’ve just discovered gold in the hallway or something. What is it?"

"I was just in Pippin’s bedroom and I have a question for you," Frodo said.

"What is it?" Merry asked. "If this is about this morning-"

"This is about when you and Pippin first arrived here for the summer, Merry," Frodo interrupted.

Merry lay the book aside as Frodo sat down next to him. "Ask away, Cousin."

"You remember that when you first arrived, I surprised Pippin with his own, larger room across the hall from yours?"

"Of course," Merry said. "Pippin seemed a bit confused by it all, but then he seemed pleased about it. He liked the idea after he realized that you had done it because he was getting older and might want a bit of privacy."

"Exactly!" Frodo crowed. "He liked the idea!"

Merry grinned at Frodo’s expression. "Why are you so excited by that?"

"Because," Frodo said. "Merry, my lad. Whatever happened that caused Pippin to quit sleeping in that room didn’t happen at the first of the visit. Pippin was sleeping in that room and enjoying it for the first three weeks of the visit and maybe a bit longer than that. Whatever made him stop sleeping in there, happened around the time that Mister Tunnely started Pippin’s lessons."

Merry’s eyes widened. "That’s right! Pippin liked his room before that."

"Now, all we have to do, is figure out what happened that changed things," Frodo said.

Merry’s smile faded. "Then aren’t we in the same place with this that we were when we started out?"

Frodo scowled. "No, we aren’t. We know that Pippin liked the room to begin with. We know that he was sleeping just fine in there at the start of the visit. We know that there isn’t anything wrong with that room. Something happened that changed Pippin’s thoughts on it all and all we have to do is find out what that was." Frodo smiled and patted Merry on the arm. "We are a bit closer to an answer, Merry."

"If you ask me, we are right back at the beginning, Frodo," Merry said. "We still don’t know a thing."

Frodo stood. "We know where to start now, Merry. All we have to do is try to remember anything different that happened at that time and that should give us our answer. So, instead of sitting there tossing cold water on my breakthrough, why don’t you try to remember anything that you can about that time."

Merry wrinkled his nose a bit and leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Well, Mister Tunnely started coming to teach Pippin carpentry."

"That can’t be it," Frodo said firmly.

"Why not?" Merry asked.

"Because Mister Tunnely is no longer giving Pippin lessons and Pippin is still not sleeping in his room," Frodo said. "If Mister Tunnely were the problem, then Pippin would be sleeping just fine now."

"You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you?" Merry asked.

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Sam watched from the opposite side of the table as Pippin took what appeared to be careful aim at the nail and brought the hammer down to it. Sam had showed Pippin how to touch the hammer head to the top of the nail lightly and then raise the hammer back and then bring it back down onto the nail. Pippin had been practicing for a while now. Sam had the lad driving nails into a couple of old pieces of scrap wood in the hopes that Pippin would get the feel of it and start to have some control over the hammer. The last two nails had gone in without any trouble and a smile was starting at the corner’s of Pippin’s mouth.

Master Pippin had looked so grim when they’d begun. The youngster had been frustrated with his failure to hit the nails properly and Sam had been afraid that Master Pippin might give up. Now, after about an hour of practice, Master Pippin was starting to improve. Sam found that he was no longer holding his breath each time Master Pippin raised the hammer.

Pippin finished driving the last of the nails into the board and looked up at Sam. "It’s getting easier!" he crowed, grinning widely now.

"I thought it might if you’d give yourself time on it," Sam said returning the grin. "I think you might just be ready to try and put your wheelbarrow together."

Master Pippin looked so proud of himself that Sam thought that lad might burst. "I can really start putting it together?"

"I think that’d be a fine idea," Sam said encouragingly.

"I was beginning to think that all I would have was a pile of nicely shellacked boards and three wheels that weren’t attached to anything at all," Pippin said. "I’m really going to build this, aren’t I?"

"That you are," Sam smiled. "We got us a fair to get ready for."

Pippin shivered slightly but the smile didn’t leave his face. "Do you think it will be good enough for the fair?"

"Course it will," Sam said. "It’s already better then some o’ the things that get displayed at the fair and it ain’t even in one piece yet."

"Sam?"

"Yes?"

"What do you suppose Mister Tunnely will say when he sees it?" Pippin asked.

"I suspect that he’ll be too busy eatin’ his earlier words to say anything new," Sam said and Pippin laughed.

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After supper, Frodo took Pippin into the study for the hated writing lessons. So far, neither Frodo nor Merry had been able to figure out what was causing Pippin not to sleep in his room. They had both tried all afternoon to come up with something. Well, Frodo had tried all afternoon. Merry had given the matter some thought but had become distracted and taken a nice long nap instead leaving Frodo to puzzle it all out on his own. Now, Frodo was tempted to bring the subject up with Pippin, but he wasn’t sure how to begin. Instead, he got out the ink and the quill and sat Pippin down at the desk. Maybe something would occur to him while they worked.

"Frodo, I don’t think that I should do my writing lesson tonight," Pippin said breaking into Frodo’s thoughts.

"You don’t?" Frodo wondered what new excuse that his cousin had for him this evening would be.

"Well, it might not be a very good idea because Sam and I are to the point now where we are putting the wh-, er, my project together," Pippin said.

"What does that have to do with your writing lesson?" Frodo asked.

"Well, this is my hammer hand," Pippin said raising his right hand so that Frodo could look at it. "I might injure it writing and not be able to hammer anything tomorrow. I already have two sore thumbs and so if my hand cramps up from all of this writing then how will I hammer anything?"

Frodo rolled his eyes. Pippin might not have the best handwriting in the Shire, but he certainly was creative. Hammer hand indeed!

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TBC