Tara opened her eyes and sat up. She was laying on the couch in the living room, but she didn’t remember laying down. The sound of laughter came from the rec room down the hall and she tried to get up to investigate.
Her legs didn’t seem to want to supporte her though. “This is crazy!” she thought. “I’m not sick…am I?” With slow and wobbly steps – and with one hand on the wall – she made her ponderous way to the rec room door. Much to her surprise her sister and four boys were sitting on the floor watching Mel Brooks Robin Hood: Men in Tights.
“Karen what’s going on? Who are these people?” Her sister looked turned to look at her with a huge smile, and stopped the movie. The four boys stood and turned around so she could see them better.
“Tara our wish came true. The entire Fellowship is here. Let me introduce the Hobbit Frodo, son of Drogo and the Ringbearer, Samwise Gamgee, Peregrine Took, and Meriadoc Brandybuck. Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn are in the kitchen talking.”
The hobbits regarded Tara with a mix of something like curiostiy and worry. “I need to sit down.” Tara said after an uncomfortable pause and moved toward the closest empty chair. All four of the “hobbits” looked very much like their movie conterparts.
“You’ve been alseep for hours. Do you feel okay?” her sister was worried more about her health than the fact that they eight strangers named after the characters of Tolkien’s book wandering about their house.
“I’m not quite sure,” was the only reply Tara gave her sister. She leaned back in the leather recliner and closed her eyes. She had a raging headache; she would deal with whatever was going on later.
Karen hit play on the remote and the loud voices of Robin’s merry men filled the room…
“We’re men, we’re men in tights.
We roam around the forest looking for fights….”
Karen leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Do you want me to get you some tylenol? Aragorn said you fainted.”
“Don’t worry about. I’ll get up and get it.” she stood shakily and walked toward the kitchen. When she pushed open the door to the desired room, she stopped and stared at the foor men sitting at the breakfast nook table.
“Greetings Lady.” one of them, probably the one who told Karen he was Aragorn, stood and asked if she was feeling better. She looked at him then at the others at the table. There was a tall blonde who could have very easily passed for an elf, and shorter man with long frizzy hair and a riduculously long beard, and another with shoulder length hair and a gotee. Now she understood how they had conveced Karen that they were the Fellowship.
Probably because she had a headache and beacuse she was annoyed that these people had fooled her sweet little sister into believing they were from Middle-earth she replied in Sindarin instead of English. “Amin anta est” (I need to rest).
The blonde stood and looked at his accomplise in surprise. “Lle quena i’lambe tel’ Eldalie?” (you speak elvish?) The shock in his voice was mirrored on face. He again looked at the man who called himself Aragorn.
“Why don’t you sit down and let us explain?” he asked. Tara nodded tiredly. It was going to be a very long day.