Happy Birthday Dreamflower!

Moonshadow

Merry slowly woke up, the odd tune being played on a whistle not fading as it should have had it only been part of a dream.

“That’s odd,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe I’m dreaming that I’ve woken up.”

He closed his eyes, left them shut a few moments while the strange music played on, then he quickly opened them again.

“Very odd,” Merry said more clearly. “I must really be hearing that whistle. But it’s the middle of the night. Surely Pippin wouldn’t . . .”

Merry paused in his monologue as he realized that surely Pippin would be up playing his tin whistle at . . . he looked at his pocket watch hanging on its stand where it could be read by the low light of the bedside lamp.

“Two o’clock in the morning!” He looked toward his window. The curtains stirred in a lazy manner on a subtle breeze, letting in glimpses of bright moonlight. The sounds of his cousin’s whistle were coming in from outside. Merry sat up, grabbed the watch and held it to his ear to make sure it was running. It was. He set the watch down on the nightstand none too gently. He left his cozy bed with an aggrieved grunt, shoved his arms roughly into his dressing gown, then tramped outside.

Merry looked around until he spotted his cousin. Off a ways from the Took’s farmhouse, on a low hill to the west, Pippin was dancing and playing his tin whistle in the moonlight. Only the brightest stars could be seen surrounding the silhouetted form of the swaying youngster, the rest were over powered by the blue-white glare of the full moon.

“They are right, all the gossips in Hobbiton and Buckland,” Merry said has he neared the rise. “Tooks are lunatics!” He sighed heavily. “Just what do you think you are doing, Pippin?”

Merry had expected Pippin to jump in surprise as he was not facing the house as he played and moved about on the flat top of the hillock, but he hadn’t. He kept dancing, only removing the instrument from his lips so he could reply.

“I’m dancing and playing my whistle.” Pippin put the whistle back in place and the strange tune began again.

“I can see and hear that, Pip. I suppose the better question would be why. Why are you dancing and playing your whistle at two o’clock in the morning?”

The whistle moved, glinting a bit in the moonlight; the music stopped. “Why have you heard it when no one else seems to have?” The whistle moved back, the music returned.

Merry marched around to be in front of his cousin. He grabbed hold of the lad’s shoulders, endeavoring to hold him still. Even beneath the elder lad’s strong grip, Pippin continued to sway to the music.

“Quit Pippin! Quit playing!”

Pippin stopped.

“All right, Merry, I’ve stopped,” Pippin pouted.

Merry looked carefully at his cousin. It was difficult to tell if he was pale with illness or flushed with fever in the moonlight. Nothing ever looks quite as it should in moonlight. He could, however, see stars in the lad’s eyes. He hoped his voice would sound more stern than frightened.

“Why were you dancing about and playing your whistle this time of night, Pippin?”

“I . . . eh . . . It was the right thing to do.”

Merry thought a moment. “Is this some sort of Tookish good luck charm?”

“No!” the lad replied hastily. “No, not at all. It’s more a . . . um . . . way to see the bright side of life.”

“The bright side of life? Wouldn’t that work better in the light of the midday sun?”

Pippin’s head tipped a little to one side. “One would think that it might, yes, but this works in the light of the full moon on a very clear night.” His eyes widened as he spoke enthusiastically. “You see, Merry, you have to have a good clear moonshadow, and it has to be following you, so you have to be facing the moon. Then you dance about on the feet of your moonshadow., and as you are dancing your moonshadow is dancing and you can see happier ways of looking at life. It really is quite amazing.”

Merry cast a doubtful eye at Pippin.

“And this really works, you say?”

Pippin nodded his head vigorously.

“For anyone?”

“Hmmm. I don’t know.” the lad admitted after a pause to think it over. “It has for me!”

Pippin’s smile was as bright as the moonlight. Merry frowned.

“You’re always looking on the bright side of things anyway.”

Pippin laid his finger along side his pointed nose. “Ah, yes! But Merry,” he leaned in conspiratorially. “This isn’t the first time I’ve done this, old lad.” As he backed away he added a nod and a wink to his gesture.

Merry did his best impersonation of his father. “Prove it to me, Pip. Prove to me that this lunacy works.”

“Alright, I will. I will play and dance and you give me some dire situation to contemplate.”

The strange melody filled the air as Pippin played and danced. After a few moments, Merry spoke.

“What if you grab hold of a hot cooking pot with both hands and forget to use pot holders and your hands get burned and don’t work right afterwards?”

Pippin piped and danced about on the rise; his shadow followed his every move.

“If I couldn’t use my hands I wouldn’t have to do chores anymore. I could eat with my face in the plate and no one could tell me I oughtn’t do it. I would sing and just whistle with my lips instead of using my tin whistle or playing my fiddle.”

The young Took leapt and hopped about in time to his music.

“What if,” Merry began then paused to think of the next calamity. “What if you got lye in your eyes?”

Pippin’s tune changed its tempo, he swayed more than danced.

“I wouldn’t see . . .” he said softly after taking the whistle from his lips. “I wouldn’t see myself grow old,” his voice grew cheerier as he spoke. “Nor dying flowers, nor dried out stream beds. I could imagine things the way I want them to look and, for me, that is how they would be.”

A shiver ran through Merry. Pippin was good at perceiving a more pleasant view of life, but this was different somehow. The music had begun again as the agile Took danced in large, sweeping steps. His movements gave Merry his next idea.

“What if you break both legs and they don’t heal properly?”

Pippin’s voice glided along with his movements, gracefully using the legs he was talking about losing the use of.

“I would have a wheeled chair like Cousin Lalia, and I would have company all the time as someone would need to roll me about. I wouldn’t complain. I could enjoy a good book or a game with a friend, or Patience if my chair pusher wasn’t about, and no one could tell me to quite being idle.”

Merry wasn’t sure if he was becoming angry or frightened. The moonlight seemed to be getting so bright that it was hurting his eyes; the air so clear that it hurt to breathe it in. Into his mind came the final blow. Something that should bring an end to Pippin’s turning the dark things of life into moonbeams.

“You can’t talk!” he shouted at the dancer.

Pippin stopped.

He stopped playing and he stopped dancing.

He walked over to Merry, stood toe to toe with him . . .

. . . and slowly smiled.

It was a Pippin smile of the highest order leaving Merry smiling back. Pippin nodded, then began to laugh. Silently, of course, but no one could not know it for laughter, and soon, Merry was laughing. Suddenly, the older cousin was enveloped in an enthusiastic hug, joined by a hearty kiss on his cheek. He hugged Pippin tightly and placed a kiss of his own on the lad’s cheek. When Pippin pulled away, his shoulders slumped and tears glistened in the moonlight as they lay along his lower eyelids, and sorrow welled up in Merry’s chest. Then Pippin was dancing away, acting as though he were playing his fiddle, then he whistled with his lips before putting the tin whistle in place to continue the tune.

Merry smiled. Loquacious Pippin would figure out someway to express himself. Another thought slowly formed itself in Merry’s mind.

“What if you go off like Bilbo did and have horrid things happen to you?”

Pippin played and danced until Merry was near to repeating his question, when suddenly Pippin danced up to him. He started the steps to a familiar dance where the lads would dance together and the lasses with the lasses until they would eventually split off into pairs, a lad with a lass. Merry matched Pippin’s footwork. The music stopped but they kept dancing.

“I’ll be fine as long as you go with me, Merry.”

“Yes, Pippin,” Merry said, finally giving himself over to the music in their heads. “We’ll go together.”

And they danced on their moonshadows until the moon himself sank behind the trees at the edge of the clearing where the farm buildings stood.

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This was inspired by and is titled after a song written by Cat Stevens in 1971. Here are the lyrics:

Oh, I'm being followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Leapin and hoppin' on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my land,
Oh if I ever lose my hands, oh if.... I won't have to work no more.
And if I ever lose my eyes, if my colours all run dry,
Yes if I ever lose my eyes, oh if.... I won't have to cry no more.

Yes, I'm being followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Leapin and hoppin' on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my legs, I won't moan, and I won't beg,
Yes if I ever lose my legs, oh if.... I won't have to walk no more.
And if I ever lose my mouth, all my teeth, north and south,
Yes if I ever lose my mouth, oh if.... I won't have to talk...

Did it take long to find me? I asked the faithful light.
Did it take long to find me? And are you gonna stay the night?

I'm being followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
A’leapin and hoppin' on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
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I could see Pippin “leaping and hopping on a moonshadow” every time I hear the song.