He paid no mind to his insistent headache and kept focusing on what was happening in the garden. He had to know the truth, even if it was more like a nightmare to him.
* * *
Bilbo looked at both Sam and the Gaffer in astonishment, unable to believe what he had just heard. The Gamgee family was an institution at Bag End, and Bilbo had always been very fond of Hamfast and his youngest son.
“Oh, surely this is the last thing I ever thought could happen! Do you really want to go, dear Sam?” asked Bilbo. “This would be a great loss, for not only are you the best gardener in all the Shire, but …”
The old hobbit paused, looking straight into Sam’s eyes. He saw sadness in those amber depths, and no determination at all.
“Well, Sam,” he continued, “you know how fond we are of you, Frodo and myself. You’ve been with us since you were just a child. Why have you decided to go?”
“Master Bilbo …” Sam tried to speak, to steady his trembling voice, now no more than a whisper, but the Gaffer interrupted him.
“Hamson needs some help, and who would be better than Sam?” He patted Sam’s shoulder. “The rope business is becoming more and more demanding, so another pair of strong hands will be appreciated.”
Bilbo was not convinced at all.
“Sam?”
Sam bowed his head, unable to speak, and swallowed. It took all his strength and will not to burst into tears, not to tell Bilbo and the Gaffer that his place was there, in that garden that he loved with all his heart, that he had tended for years, as a gift of love for Frodo. Sam had realized it too late. All his days of hard work and sweat: every single flower, leaf, tree and fruit in that garden, all was meant to match the beauty of Frodo, to make his young Master smile, to see those amazing eyes wide in surprise and appreciation. Now Sam knew for sure. And now it was too late.
“Sam?” Bilbo asked again. “Are you feeling well, lad?”
The young gardener regained his composure, looking directly into the older hobbit’s eyes, his voice firm. “I’m fine, Master Bilbo.”
Sam had never been able to go against his father’s will, no matter what his feelings or thoughts were. The respect for his old father had always been a steady point and rule in his life. A rule never to be broken.
“I’ll do as me Gaffer said. I just came to … inform you about this decision, and … to thank you, sir, for you have been the best Master to me.”
“If this is what you have decided .. ” said Bilbo, shaking his head. “I’m not going to force you to stay, although I’m quite sorry about it! When are you planning to go?”
“In a couple of days, presumably,” was the Gaffer’s answer.
“One last thing, Sam. Are you definitely moving on, to stay with your brother, or are you going to come back, sooner or later?”
Sam didn’t dare speak. He already knew what he was going to face, but to say those words would have been the affirmation of a reality he didn’t want to accept, that he would not have accepted if only had he been in the position to refuse it.
