3: New Year’s Eve

The rest of the week went by without much fuss. Finrod continued to work at the bookstore, which saw a great deal of business, more so than usual.

“Do not worry,” he told Nick on Thursday after they had seen five children and three adults out the door. “Once the novelty wears off of seeing me working here, I do not think we will see as many customers.”

“Pity that,” Nick said with a straight face and Finrod smiled knowingly. “Are you all right with staying late tomorrow and working on Saturday to help me with the year-end inventory?” Nick asked as Finrod grabbed his cloak, preparing to leave.

“Yes. What time should I come?”

“Well, the store will be closed to the public so we can start at any hour. Would you mind coming here around seven each morning? We’ll probably be working rather late on Friday, but we’ll stop early Saturday with it being New Year’s Eve and all. What we don’t finish by then, we’ll wrap up on Monday.”

“I will be here,” Finrod promised and true to his word, he was at the bookstore just as the town clock struck the hour. Nick came shortly thereafter and they entered the store together. The only other shop that was open this early was the bakery next door and the delectable smells of cinnamon and rising bread wafted through the air. Nick went over to the bakery while Finrod put on the coffee and returned a few minutes later with cinnamon rolls for them both.

“Straight out of the oven,” Nick proclaimed as he bit into one. “Ever do inventory before?” he asked as he downed some coffee.

“Of course,” Finrod replied. “As king of Nargothrond, I had to oversee the inventorying of our supplies of food and weapons and such.”

“Okay, well, here is the way we do it for books,” Nick said and he spent a few minutes explaining the system and then they went to work.

The hours passed in comfortable silence as the two men worked. Around one, they stopped for lunch, going across the square to the café for a quick bite. By then the lunch crowd had thinned so they had no trouble finding seats and getting served. By two, they were back at the shop. Nick ordered a pizza for their dinner and they ate standing up and discussing New Year’s Eve plans.

“I’ll go to the square like everyone else,” Nick told Finrod when he asked, “and then go home and fall into bed.” He smiled shyly. “Guess I’m not much of a party person. What about you?”

“I believe we, too, will attend the festivities at the square and then we will have a… a cook… out, I think is the term, in the woods behind the mansion. There is a clearing where we like to congregate.”

“A cookout in the middle of the night,” Nick said with disbelief.

“We are having filet mignon and lobster.”

“But it’ll be freezing!”

Finrod shrugged, amused by the Mortal’s reaction. “I am sure it will not be too cold. Certainly not as cold as crossing the Helcaraxë.”

He saw Nick shiver at that, now looking very upset. Finrod smiled at him sympathetically. “It is well, child,” he said softly, giving him a hug, which startled the Man. “Do not fret. Shall we get back to work, then?”

“What? Oh, yeah, work. Did you finish the fantasy and sci-fi books? Good. You want to start on mysteries? I still need to finish up the social sciences.”

They continued working for another two or three hours until Nick finally decided they should quit, trying not to yawn, but having little luck.

“Go and I will close up,” Finrod told him. “I wish to finish this section first.” He was now working through the children’s books.

“You sure?” Nick asked around a couple of yawns.

“Perfectly sure. Go and get some sleep. I will see you tomorrow.”

Nick just nodded and in a few minutes he was bundled up and heading out. Finrod saw him to the door, wishing him a good night. He started back to where he’d been working and then stopped, glancing at the clock and coming to a decision. He fished out his cell phone and speed-dialed a number.

“DelaFiore.”

“It is I, gwador,” Finrod said, speaking Sindarin.

“Still at the store?” Glorfindel asked in the same language.

“I just sent Nicholas home. Poor child was dead on his feet.”

“You finishing up then? Would you like me to meet you somewhere? The café is still open or the Blue Petrel.”

“Actually, I had another idea.”…

****

When Nick showed up at the shop the next morning, he found the place already open and when he came inside he stopped in shock at the sight of several people, Elves to be precise, standing about with mugs of coffee in their hands, munching on cinnamon rolls.

“What’s all this?” he demanded, spotting Finrod who was sitting near the stove with Glorfindel. They both looked up and smiled identical smiles. “You’re here early,” he said as he doffed his coat and hat.

“I never left,” Finrod said.

“Never left? You mean you….” Nick glanced about, trying to understand. The store was no longer in the shambles it had been when he left the night before; every book was back in place.

“I was not tired, so I decided to stay and finish the inventory,” Finrod explained. “I called my friends to come help me.” He nodded to the others. Besides Glorfindel, Nick recognized Finrod’s son, and his two friends and Nell. Daeron was also there along with two ellith whom he thought went by the names Helena and Anna. Helena was sitting on the sofa with Glorfindel, his arm around her shoulders, and Anna was standing close to Daeron.

“You mean you worked through the night?” Nick asked, still trying to grasp what was happening.

“Hmm… yes,” Finrod answered. “As I said, I was not tired and decided to continue working. I called Glorfindel to see if he would be willing to keep me company. He brought the others along and together we’ve completed inventorying your entire stock. You will find everything is in order.”

“But surely you must be exhausted,” Nick protested. “You all must be. I know I would be. The days of burning the candle at both ends are long past.”

“I slept well on Thursday,” Finrod said with a shrug. “I doubt I will need to sleep again for another few days. Normally I can refresh myself by weaving waking dreams and sleep for real only a few times in a month, but since getting shot, I find I need to rest more often.”

“But…” Nick found he had no words. The idea that someone only needed to sleep a few times a month was beyond his comprehension. He had gone without sleep for a couple of days when he was younger but that was about his limit. To go for weeks without sleeping….

“Here, have a sticky bun,” Findalaurë, who was standing near him, said, offering him a cinnamon roll and giving him a clinical look. “You look as if you need something sweet. How do you like your coffee?”

Nick stared at the ellon he knew as Lawrence for a long moment. Until now, he had thought of him and his two friends and Nell as youngsters, mainly because all the other Elves spoke of them that way, but he suddenly realized how very wrong that was. He had only to look into Findalaurë’s eyes to know that he was no ‘youngster’. Young he might appear, looking no older than twenty or so, but his eyes gave away the truth, for they were old, old eyes. Here was one who had lived for a very, very long time, for longer than human history, if he remembered rightly, and that meant that Finrod and Glorfindel had lived even longer.

Suddenly, he felt his whole world, everything he knew or thought he knew, crashing in on him. Until now, it had been easy to accept the Elves as just better-looking humans, but now he realized how truly alien they were, for all that they looked as human as he. It was more than just the pointed ears that separated them from him; it was something more basic, almost on the cellular level, and the implications of that made him feel weak.

“I… I … I think I need some air,” he said faintly, closing his eyes. Before he realized what was happening, someone was opening the door and he was outside breathing in the cold. He felt someone standing beside him, wrapping him in a cloak.

“Deep breaths, my friend,” he heard Finrod say. “That’s it. All is well. Now, come inside. Finda, bring Nicholas some coffee. He likes it with one sugar and no milk. Here, sit. Good. Now drink.”

Nick took a sip of the hot, bitter brew and then a second one and had drunk half the mug before he sighed, feeling more himself. He looked over to see Finrod kneeling before him. Glorfindel was standing next to him, both of them looking concerned. The others hung back, watching in silence.

“Feeling better?” Finrod asked solicitously.

“I guess,” Nick replied. “Sorry. Suddenly, I felt like Alice looking back through the looking-glass and everything seemed so… so alien. I guess my brain couldn’t deal with it.”

“It’s alright, Nick,” Glorfindel said gently. “We understand, truly.”

“I am sorry if anything I said upset you,” Finrod said.

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine. It just sort of hit me how… how not human you really are. Sorry. That’s not what I meant. I mean…”

“It’s fine, Nick,” Glorfindel said with a smile. “We understand. We do. Now, we should be going. The Safeway will be opening shortly and I need to do some shopping for tonight.”

“Oh yeah, the midnight cookout,” Nick said with a grin, some of his equilibrium restored. “Filet mignon and lobster? You guys don’t fool around, do you?”

The Elves all grinned and Finrod stood up. “Do you wish for me to stay? With the inventory done you can open the store for business.”

Nick shook his head, standing up so he could remove the cloak that was still around him and handed it to Finrod. “No. I think I’ll just close up and go home. We’ll open again on Monday. Thank you, all of you, for your help. I really appreciate it, but don’t think I’m paying you for overtime, Mr. O’Brien, nor your friends, either.”

Everyone chuckled at his attempt at levity. “We’ll just clean up then and be on our way,” Glorfindel said and fifteen minutes later they were all trooping out. As Nick locked the door, he gave them a sly look. “So, now that you’ve spent the entire night working in my shop, does this mean that tomorrow night you’ll go down to the shoe repair shop and help out there?”

Finrod and those from Valinor gave Nick blank looks, while Daeron rolled his eyes and Glorfindel grinned, pretending to swat Nick upside his head. He ducked and gave them a smirk.

“Whyever would we do that?” Finrod asked in confusion, turning to Glorfindel. “I do not know anything about repairing shoes.”

Now Daeron and Glorfindel both laughed. “I’ll explain later,” Glorfindel said. “Come on, the Safeway is opening. Happy New Year to you, Nick.”

Nick wished them all a Happy New Year and headed home. At the last minute Finrod decided to accompany Glorfindel and Helena to the store and the others went their own way.

****

When the Elves arrived at the town square around eleven that evening, they found it nearly full. The Christmas tree was lit up and the high school band was playing. The bakery was still open and doing a brisk business as people stepped in for something sweet. Coffee, tea and hot chocolate were the beverages of choice rather than champagne as the Mortals huddled in their coats and waited for midnight. Several people were ice skating and Finrod gave his son and niece permission to join them. Elennen and Calandil went with them.

“We will head for the woods as soon as the ceremony is over with,” he told them. “Stay for as long as the rink is open and then come join us.”

“What exactly will happen?” one of the Valinórean Elves asked Daeron.

“Do you see that glowing ball suspended over there?” he pointed to where a bright yellow ball hung high above the roof of the courthouse, visible from the square, though it was a block away. Below it, a large digital timer was counting down the minutes and seconds. “A minute before midnight, it will begin to descend and it’s timed to reach the roof at the stroke of midnight. When it touches down it will set off a light show. The entire square is wired. You’ll see what I mean.”

They waited along with the Mortals. Several people standing nearby wished them a Happy New Year and they traded comments with the Wiseman Elves about the previous year’s light show and if there was going to be anything different this year. Then there was a minute left of the old year and an expectant hush fell across the square as everyone craned their necks to see the ball begin to descend, keeping one eye on the digital timer. Even the skaters had ceased to skate, standing about and looking on. When the timer reached ten seconds all the Mortals began counting down aloud, their voices rising in excitement as the seconds of the old year fled.

“…five… four… three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

The ball began sparkling and suddenly, the roofs of the buildings surrounding the square lit up in a dazzling display of pyrotechnics as the high school band began playing and the entire square exploded into song, the Wiseman Elves joining in, while those from Valinor looked on in amazement:

“Should old acquaintances be forgot
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintances be forgot
and auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.”

Everyone started cheering and clapping and hugging and kissing each other indiscriminately. Several of the Valinórean Elves found themselves unceremoniously hugged by strangers, kisses planted on their cheeks and good wishes for a Happy New Year ringing in their ears. It was bedlam and confusion and no one seemed to notice or to mind, enjoying the light show above them. Eventually, though, the pyrotechnics ceased and people began heading off, intent on continuing their partying in warmer conditions. The Elves remained where they were until the square was emptier and quieter.

“So, what did you think?” Glorfindel asked Finrod, giving him a grin.

“I do not think I have been kissed by so many females in so short a time before,” he quipped and everyone around him laughed.

“And this is tame compared to how people celebrate elsewhere,” Daeron said.

“The skating rink is closing,” Vorondur observed. “Let’s round up the youngsters and get on our way.”

With that they all agreed and in a short while they were making their way back to the mansion, grabbing the coolers already filled with food and drink before heading for the woods. Mithlas and Beleg, who now went by the names Mick and Bela, respectively, went ahead to start the bonfire, which had been set up earlier that afternoon, so when the others arrived, they were greeted by a merry blaze. It was not long before the steaks and lobster were sizzling away, wrapped in foil and covered with coals. Glorfindel went along the perimeter of the glade with Finrod in tow, the two of them raising a Song of Power, creating a barrier. It was a minor working, not the major working Glorfindel had originally planned. This barrier would not stop anyone from outside from entering the glade but it would cause them to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep. The Elves were determined not to be disturbed by any Mortals fool enough to find their way into the woods.

“There, that should do it,” Glorfindel said when the two had come full circle. “Let’s see if there’s any champagne left.”

Finrod grinned and together they joined the others around the fire. Daeron handed them both champagne flutes.

“To the New Year,” he intoned, raising his glass.

“To the New Year,” everyone echoed.

“And may it be less exciting than the last,” Glorfindel added.

“Násië!” came the fervent response from the others.

And then Gil and Barry began singing a traditional song sung at the Elvish New Year and soon everyone was joining in.