Noddy Ferndingle knocked on the door of Bag End. "Is Mr. Baggins in, Sam?" he inquired. "I hear tell he looks into peculiar things--and I got a most peculiar thing that needs looking into!"
This was getting to be commonplace. The finding of the late Mrs. Taggart's missing jewels had made Frodo famous around the Shire as a detective. He'd been involved in other cases before, even solving several murders, but those had been mostly private affairs, taken up for the sake of his family; after he'd recovered Mrs. Taggart's jewelry, however, her children had been so grateful for his help that they'd praised him to everyone they knew. News of the incident spread quickly, for there are few stories hobbits enjoy more than those concerning the finding of lost treasures. It wasn't long before anybody with a missing kitten or stray lamb was coming to ask for Frodo's help.
Whenever he could, Frodo did help. For cases of lost objects or animals, he usually sent Sam--and Merry as well, once he'd returned from Budgeford--to search: they asked questions around the neighborhood, put up notices, and looked around for themselves, and were successful often enough to maintain a reputation. In the case of a pie stolen from Mrs. Muscote's kitchen, Frodo went to visit the Proudfoots and have a word with his young cousin Sancho. The pie could not be restored to its owner, since it had already been eaten by Sancho and his best friend, Wilcome Chubb, but an abashed apology was forthcoming from both boys; Prunella Proudfoot, Sancho's grandmother, offered Mrs. Muscote a pie of her own as a replacement.
Sometimes, all that was needed was personal advice. Frodo would take the prospective client into the parlor for a confidential chat, and have the visitor leave in a more composed frame of mind. "He only wanted someone to talk to," was Frodo's standard explanation for these cases.
Merry had once joked that they ought to put up a sign at the front door: 'Mr. Frodo Baggins and associates, private investigators.' Sam was beginning to think this would be a good idea. If they made a regular business of it, they could keep to 'shop' hours, or he could make appointments for people to see Frodo when it was convenient. As it was, people dropped by unexpectedly at all hours, interrupting Frodo at his writing, and all this investigating gave him little time to rest as much as Sam thought he ought to.
Sam tried to screen clients as they showed up, but Frodo never turned anyone away without at least hearing them out. He knew that Frodo would want to see Noddy.
After he had shown Noddy into the sitting room, Sam went to the study to find Frodo seated at his desk. Since he was chewing distractedly on the feather of his quill pen, and not actually writing, Sam ventured, "Hope it's no interruption, but we've got another one. Noddy Ferndingle's asking to see you."
Frodo laid down the quill and turned to Sam. "'Noddy' Ferndingle?"
"Nador, it is properly, but he's been 'Noddy' to them as knows him since he was a little lad." Sam lowered his voice, lest their visitor should overhear. "He's a bit dim-witted, you see."
"You sound as if you know him. Is he a friend of yours, Sam?"
"His father was a friend of the Gaffer's, so I've seen 'm now and again since we was boys," Sam explained, and since he knew that Frodo would want to hear more about this potential client, he went on: "The Ferndingles' farm is about ten miles south of here. It's a little place, near the Green Hill Wood. Noddy runs it by himself now his father's passed on and his brother's run off." He shook his head. "I wouldn't've said he could manage on his own, but he looks to be doing well enough for himself, as long as naught goes wrong."
"And has something gone wrong?" Frodo wondered. "What does he want to see me about?"
"He didn't say, 'cept that it was peculiar."
"I daresay one of his cows has wandered off into the wood and he wants us to find it. Oh, very well..." Frodo left his desk and went out to greet his guest.
Noddy was seated by the window, but he rose when Frodo entered the sitting room. "Thank'ee for seeing me, Mr. Baggins," he said timidly. "I'm much obliged. I'll tell you right off I can't pay you for looking into this problem of mine, but the harvest has been good this year. I could send up some bushels of corn or apples, if that'll do."
"That's very kind, but you needn't mind about that now," Frodo assured him. For the most part, he did not accept fees for his work. He sat down in his usual chair by the fire; Sam took an inconspicuous seat in the settle behind Noddy. "What seems to be the trouble?"
"It's like this, Mr. Baggins. There's some awful peculiar goings-on at my farm of late, and I'd be ever-so grateful if you'd tell me how to put a stop to it. I hear tell you're an educated gent, Mr. Baggins, like old Mr. Bilbo who was here afore. You read Elvish books and traveled to all sorts of odd places. I reckon you know about magic and such-like."
"I know a bit," Frodo admitted, bemused by Noddy's introduction of the subject. "Does this problem of yours have something to do with magic?"
"It does indeed," Noddy confirmed. "You see, there's a curse on my farm, and I need it taken off."
Frodo and Sam exchanged surprised glances. This was not going to be one of their usual cases!
"What makes you think it's under a curse?" Frodo asked. "Please, tell me more about these goings-on. When did they start?"
"It was two weeks ago Trewsday," Noddy replied. "Nothing's gone right since. First off, the pigs got into the kitchen--and they know they oughtn't be in there 'til they come cut and cured for breakfast! Then my best cow got up on the roof o' the barn, and was so 'frighted she hasn't given a drop of good milk since. Things started disappearing about the place, and coming back where I never put them. I found a white pony wandering in the yard one day. It was quite tame when I caught it, and I tied it to the gate with a good, tight knot. I thought as I'd find how who it belonged to, but when I come back from my chores, it was gone like it'd never been there! Even the rope was gone! And then the little fellow showed up."
"Little fellow?" said Frodo. "You mean, a small hobbit?"
"No, one o' the Big Folk... but little. He had boots and a beard, and he wasn't more'n this high." Noddy demonstrated by tapping his hand to his chest, then extending it out at the same level to show how tall the little fellow had stood before him. "He was standing by the barn early one morning when I was going to milk the cows. Never saw the like o' him before! He told me there was a curse on my place, as it was in the hands of somebody it didn't rightfully belong to. The woods was old, he told me. Older'n the Shire and belonging to forces that ruled here before hobbits ever came and settled the land. I was trespassing, and if I didn't wish to clear off--which I certainly did not!--then there was only one way to protect myself from harm. Magic beans."
"Magic beans?" Sam echoed incredulously.
Noddy twisted around to face him. "That's what he said. I was to take 'em to the old city of Fornost and plant 'em in the sacred stone circle atop the hill."
"He wanted you to go all the way to Fornost?" Sam sputtered, his incredulity growing by the minute. "But that's beyond the Shire, far to the north of Bree! It'd take you days to get there."
"But that's what he told me," Noddy repeated. "I was to head off to Fornost as soon as ever I could and plant these beans on the next night o' the full moon. I was to say these special words over 'em." Standing a little straighter, clasping his hands behind him and shutting his eyes as if he were reciting a piece of poetry, Noddy declaimed:
"'Begone O Spirits of the Wood! Fly from my home and begone for good!'
"I was to stay at Fornost and do that at the stone circle every month at the first full moon, and when the bean sprouts grew up, that'd be a sign that the curse had passed. Come spring, I could return to a peaceful farm."
"Did you see these beans?" Frodo asked, and bit down on his lip. He didn't dare to meet Sam's eyes; he would burst into laughter if he did. Sam too was trying very hard not to laugh at Noddy's ridiculous tale. It sounded like a joke, except that the young farmer was so obviously in earnest and distressed by these events.
"The little fellow gave me a bagfull to take with me," answered Noddy. "They looked like ordinary kidney beans to me, but bigger and yellow-colored."
"But you didn't go to Fornost with them."
"No." Noddy shook his head scornfully. "I mayn't be the cleverest hobbit hereabouts, Mr. Baggins, but I an't so slow-witted as that. It sounded like rubbish to me, and I'd travel far from home for no reason. I told 'm No and sent him off, and I planted the beans in my kitchen garden. If they did any good, they'd just as well do it here! But afterwards, I began to wondering if he wasn't right about the curse. There's been one odd doing after another, and it grows odder every day. There was a light like a fire in the orchard one night, but no flames to be seen when I went to put it out. I hear music and laughter from the woods at nights, and great booming voices like thunder! I've seen ghostly figures in among the trees too, but they vanish like mist if I go out after 'em. 'Tis magic, and more'n a hobbit can stand.
"And yesterday," Noddy finished, "he was back again--the little Man. He said he'd tried to warn me, but it was too late now, as the full moon was upon us. Things'd only get worse from here on out. So I came here to you, Mr. Baggins. I don't want to leave my farm. I'd rather be rid of the curse, if you please. Can you tell me how to do that?"
"It certainly sounds very strange!" said Frodo, trying to keep his composure and address this bizarre request seriously. "Have you considered that your little Man might be doing this himself?"
"I thought as maybe he was the one who put a curse on the place," Noddy replied thoughtfully, "but he couldn't be doing it without magic, Mr. Baggins! You tell me how a little bit of a Big Folk like that could lift a cow onto the roof, or make a pony disappear, or all else that I've seen."
Frodo had one or two theories, but he offered no explanations for the moment. "Are there other farms near you?" he asked.
Noddy shook his head. "My nearest neighbor's about three miles off, and the Green Hill Inn is as far in the other direction."
"Does anybody else live with you?"
"Not at the farm. There's Mrs. Biddle, who used to look after my dad, and still comes to look after me. I have some hands in to help with the spring planting and the harvest, and pay 'em out in part of the crops, but the harvest is in now and the last of 'em's gone."
"Has anyone else witnessed these peculiar events? Mrs. Biddle?"
"No, Mr. Baggins. She's only in for days, and most of what goes on, goes on after nightfall." His brow furrowed as an idea began to form. "You don't mean to say I'm imagining it? It's true, I tell you. Every word!"
"I didn't mean that at all," Frodo hastened to reassure him. "I believe you've had a very odd experience, and one that I admit I'm quite curious to learn more about. I will look into this problem of yours, Farmer Ferndingle, and I will do my best to solve it."
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Odd Goings-On at the Ferndingle Farm by Kathryn Ramage
Story notes: There are no dead hobbits in this story.
This story takes place in November of 1420 (S.R.), a few weeks after my last mystery, "The Family Jewels."
Like my previous mysteries, this story takes elements from the book, but also uses two key points from the film version of LOTR: the Shire is untouched, and the four main hobbits are all around the same age.
Disclaimer: The characters and overall storyline are certainly not mine. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate, and I'm just playing with them to entertain myself and anyone else who likes this kind of thing.
October 2005
The Frodo Investigates! series
