Sunday
Sunday morning, they arrived at church early, relaxed, and sat a couple of rows from the front. Pastor Derek searched them out, and chatted with Janiece and Jake, and Nathaniel. Nathaniel explained the conversation with Mrs. Chattam, and Derek looked pleased.
They worshiped in earnest, and introduced Nathaniel casually without fanfare to whoever wanted to meet him. The rumor mill had already described him as a short homeless man in counseling, and that was enough. Children were intrigued by him, and everyone was polite.
When the service was over, Nathaniel went up to the stage, and picked up one of the drumsticks, and hefted it, feeling its weight. He perused the drum set, and gingerly flicked one of the cymbals with his fingernail. Jake hung back, watching.
The drummer came up to the stage, and Jake nodded at him. "Hi, Mark." Mark nodded back, and approached Nathaniel. "Hi, pal."
"Hello."
"Look interesting?"
"Yes."
Mark nodded, and picked up the other drumstick, and demonstrated a light relaxed grip, which Nathaniel imitated. Mark gave the snare a few taps, and then nodded at Nathaniel, who mimicked him. Then Nathaniel experimentally thumped the toms, in sequence, and timidly gave the crash a delicate tap. He winced as the sound rang out in the quiet room. Mark pinched the cymbal into silence, and then smiled. "Here. Like this." He whacked it, and Nathaniel jumped, but grinned. "Go on." Mark whacked it again. "Not too hard, but firm." Nathaniel gathered his courage, and the cymbal rang out for a third time. He laughed out loud.
Derek joined James and Janiece, and smiling said, "No rush. Let's watch."
Mark handed the second stick to Nathaniel, and then adjusted the seat a little, and snatching Nathaniel under his arms, hoisted him unceremoniously onto the seat. Nathaniel was startled, but delighted. Mark locked the high hat. Casting about a little, he collected four large bibles, and stacked them under the bass pedal. "There you go." Nathaniel stomped energetically on it, and Mark jumped. "Whoa!"
As the Scotts watched, Mark showed Nathaniel a basic rhythm, and Josh beamed as he picked it up. "Once he gets used to the weight of the sticks, he'll have it, " Josh muttered.
"Why the drums?" James muttered. "Mom will never let us get him a set. And he's too little. Man, couldn't he have picked something else?"
"Maybe hand drums," Josh replied.
Derek edged into the conversation. "He's a natural, " he said. "Shame not to develop that. Can always use an extra drummer."
"I know, " James muttered. "But Mom always said, no drums in the house."
"Aw, that was years ago, right?" Derek said.
"Not that long ago, " Josh frowned, trying to figure out what year.
They watched and waited, and Mark demonstrated another rhythm, and Nathaniel picked it up, struggling a little with the hand and foot co-ordination. He fought his way through it, and eventually had it almost under control. He was using a combination of muscles he had rarely used before, and was starting to get tired.
"Enough?"
"One more."
Mark picked a simpler rhythm, and Nathaniel mastered it quickly. But then he returned to the more difficult one, and battled it for another ten minutes. He was too tired to get it right, but too stubborn to admit he was tired.
Mark joined the Scotts. "Talented little kid, and determined. He's got what it takes. How old is he?"
"Mid-twenties."
"Huh! Seriously?"
"Short for his age."
"Well, yeah, I guess. Sheesh, he's a regular little hobbit. Guess I shouldn't call him that though, huh?"
"We'd rather you didn't, " said Janiece, with remarkable composure. James broke into a cold sweat.
"Sure. I hope I don't slip. What's his name?"
"Nathaniel."
"Nathaniel. Right."
Janiece smiled at Derek. "We won't have time for coffee, will we?"
"Recruiting new drummers is worth the price. I'm not worried."
"Would you like to come over this evening instead?"
"All right. Can I talk you boys into worshipping again?"
"Whose turn is it? Jake again?"
"Well, I was hoping you'd all three plug in. Like old times."
Janiece rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Can we keep it to a dull roar?"
"Oh, " said Derek. "Yes, of course."
"Might be easier on Mom if we came here instead, " Jake suggested.
"Oh, I'll manage, " Janiece replied, not wanting to be left out yet again.
"Too bad, " Mark muttered to Josh. "I was going to play drums, if you came here..."
Derek turned to Janiece, and jerked a thumb at Nathaniel, still stubbornly hammering away at the elusive rhythm. "I wonder if Nathaniel could play one of those kid's drum sets they have in department stores. I saw one for under one-fifty, the other day."
Janiece considered that. "I suppose it might be quieter than a full-sized set."
Mark nodded, looking glum. "Yeah, no power at all. Awful cheesy sounding."
Josh held his breath. Cheesy to Mark might mean acceptable to Mom. And they could always turn the amps down a notch or two.
Janiece looked at Derek thoughtfully. "Where did you see this?"
Derek described the department store, and then said, "But that was around Christmas time. Might have better luck ordering one now."
"Interesting, " Janiece said.
James shook his head, bewildered. "Mom, are you serious? But you always forbade us to have a drum set in the house. What makes you change your mind?"
Janiece met his eyes. "Where the drum set is, the band practice is. I wanted you practicing in church, where there was supervision, and not alone in our house after school."
James' jaw dropped even further. "I thought it was the noise!"
"Well, a child's set would be a little quieter, wouldn't it? And I trust that you'll stop practice well before my bedtime?"
"Yes, Ma'am, " Jake interrupted.
"I think I can trust Nathaniel to make sure that everyone behaves himself, " Janiece said with a twinkle in her eye.
**********
Later that week, Josh and Janiece surprised Bolco with an inexpensive, child-sized drum set from a local department store. From then on, in addition to studying his runes, or letters as he began to call them, and doing his homework for his various study classes, he also practiced the drums daily. The brothers often plugged in and led, but if they were busy or tired, he would put on a CD. He was often seen tapping softly with his hands, fingers, and feet, whenever he was bored or distracted.
Bolco settled into the new schedule happily, and life in Massachusetts became a cheerful adventure for him. He got along fairly well with his new counselor, although occasionally he would turn to Jake and inform him that he thought a particular question was not necessary, and whenever he did so, that signaled the end of that part of the discussion.
Janiece accompanied Bolco, Jake, and Anne on numerous daylight walks, and grew to enjoy the woods almost as much as Anne did, although she never went out in the dark. The Scott family became a familiar sight in all the woods for many miles around. Once in a while, they went on day trips, and in late May they even drove up to New Hampshire and hiked Mt. Chocorua. Bolco had never seen anything like the view from the top of the mountain, and he never forgot it, and talked of it for weeks afterwards.
He swam hard, and his strokes and endurance steadily improved. Josh persistently fine-tuned his form. Bolco began swimming with Jake every day, and James or Josh joined them when they could.
He thoroughly enjoyed participating in bible studies and classes. He made rapid progress with his reading skills, and Mrs. Chattam was pleased. He learned his multiplication tables, and simple division, and then she started him on fractions and decimals, and some geometry. He often drew figures in the dirt while he was weeding. She didn't mind. She was greatly amused to find him planting early pansies by color in an octagonal pattern. But she never tolerated idle drumming, on the desk or table or counter, anywhere in her house.
Several different individuals in his classes or bible studies compared him favorably to a hobbit, and when they mentioned it to him, he smiled, sadly. "My counselor would not be pleased to hear you say so, " he would reply. "However, I thank you kindly for the generous compliment." And he would let it go at that.
***********
At the end of May, when he felt that his reading was progressing quite well, he approached Jake, and asked him for the folder that Carla had assembled. Jake hesitantly got it out.
Bolco flipped through the pages, and asked Jake which page was the one that listed what Carla thought was wrong with him. Jake helped him find it.
Bolco held it up, and studied it, sounding out the strange words, and asking Jake what each one meant. Jake discussed each word with him, and repeatedly re-assured him that most of the conclusions that the counselors had come to were just plain wrong, although one could see why they would have come to them.
"Look, Bolco, we know you're not crazy, and you know you're not crazy."
"I know, Jake. It's all right."
"Why did you want to see it?"
Bolco studied the paper. "Because it's this piece of paper that proves to everyone here that I'm not a hobbit, " he said, simply.
Jake watched him, and waited.
"Doesn't it?"
"But--"
"It does, Jake. This piece of paper has turned me into a short, confused man, instead of a lost hobbit."
Jake did not know what to say.
"In a way, I'm grateful for it. It has enabled me to blend in, and become just another person, and I've learned a lot that way. But..."
Jake shook his head. "We know who you are."
"I know. In a way, you do. But in a way, have you forgotten?" He sighed. "Jake, I miss Lilac. I miss the Shire. I want to go home."
Jake waited.
"I've looked on the computer, on the internet, with James' help, " Bolco said. "He's right. There's no place called The Shire on any of the maps, that looks like my home; no Hobbiton, no Tuckborough, no Green Hill Country, no Woody End. We've searched. It's not there. But I haven't forgotten. And I still want to go home."
"It'll half kill me when you go, " Jake said. "But I know I've got to let you go when it's time. I just hope it's not today or tomorrow, or the day after."
"You'll get in trouble, won't you?"
"Yeah. The agencies will get after me something fierce."
"I don't like that."
"I don't see what you can do about it. When God brings you home, he'll bring you home."
Bolco reread the paper one more time, and then smiled. "Proof that I'm crazy, " he said, holding up the paper.
Jake snorted, and put the paper away.
**********