~Austin Slugg, Class of 2025

A portal opens in my room, a swirling mass of purple, blue and stars. I enter cautiously, and I immediately get dizzy from the swirling vortex and my ears pop, then I start to feel stretchy, like my muscles are a million rubber bands. I feel like I am being squeezed through a tube and suddenly I end up on a hill in front of a painted green door that is small and completely round. With the world still spinning around me, I proceed to throw up in the bushes beside the door. 

As my vision returns to normal I look up to see a gleaming door knob sits directly in the middle; a brass bull’s eye. Upon knocking, a hobbit slowly opens the door and welcomes me inside for tea. His name, he says, is Bilbo Baggins. 

His hobbit hole is not what you’d expect from being underground. It is not dark, damp, or dirty. Rather, it is quite a lavish and warm home. Dark oak beams hold up the curved ceiling which is a lovely shade of pale yellow that matches the walls. To the left, is the dining room, with a small fireplace, and the smells of mint tea and roast pork come wafting from the kitchen. Off of the dining room is the pantry, overflowing with rolls, carrots, and smoked salmon. Down the hall is where we sit down for afternoon tea. 

I chose a spot on a leather couch that has been worn by years of use. It is quite small, made for a hobbit instead of a human, and I have to bend my knees very tightly to not hit the coffee table in front of me. The aroma of chamomile from the two cups of fine china filled with steaming tea fills the room. The heat from the cup warms my hands and I suddenly realize how cold it was outside. 

We sit and chat for hours. I tell him of my life right now, with school, art, swimming, and video games. He says that sounds very interesting, and is especially intrigued by the video games which seem like magic to him. He begins to tell me of an adventure he went on to find a magic ring. Feeling a little embarrassed, I politely interrupt him and let him know all about that escapade. I explained to him that his adventure is a very famous story in my world. 

Bilbo’s face grows wide with surprise. “Really? Who told you about it”, the old hobbit exclaimed. “Wait, I bet it was that other young fellow, the soldier who fought in what he called The Great War”, Bilbo said. “We shared stories and I learned of the great evil he and his kind fought against and the terrible toll it took on your world”. My mind and heart raced. “You mean JRR Tolkien?”, I asked with utter amazement. “Yes!” Bilbo shouted, nearly spilling his tea. “I remember the young lad now. He showed up at my door ages ago looking for shelter and food, saying he came to my world after a great explosion. He looked like he had been through a rough time, so I helped him before sending him on his way. We passed the time telling tales”, Bilbo explained.

So it is real, I think. It’s all real. Sitting there, pondering the information I had just heard, I see night is quickly approaching and get the odd sense I must go soon. He walks me to the front door of his wonderful home and upon opening it I re-enter the portal, feeling that same dizzy, then stretchy feeling. 

As I look back behind me, the portal is gone and I hear my mom calling me to dinner, no longer nauseous but hungry from my travels. 

Before I go downstairs, I see my copy of The Hobbit open on my desk, and on the inside cover written in gold was a note: “Glad you enjoyed my story. Come back again, if you can. Sincerely, Bilbo Baggins”.