The Hobette

The Hobette

by Ivy Miller

Belba Buggins was not looking for an adventure. She was looking for a husband. Not that she needed a man, to be clear. It was just that without a husband, Belba couldn't get a loan for a house. Nor could she get a credit card or take advantage of the tax benefits. Her secretary position could only get her so far, although her male co-worker (who did not do nearly as much work for their boss as she did—at least not during work hours) seemed to do pretty well for himself. Of course, that could be because he was paid twice as much as Belba was, but the point was, Belba needed a husband.

Upon attempting to buy a pipe for herself, Belba was told they were for men and so she got a cigarette holder instead, like movie stars had in the pictures. She was trying it out in her flower garden when a tall older woman in a drab grey dress and a hideous matching pointy hat came along. She carried with her a staff. Belba had never seen a woman with a staff before.

"How do you do?" Belba said in greeting.

"How do I do what?" the woman asked.

"I mean, how are you?" Belba explained.

"How am I what?" the woman asked.

"I mean, are you having a good day so far?" Belba said carefully.

"Well, why didn't you say so?" the woman asked. "Yes, my day so far has been agreeable."

Belba frowned. This woman, she thought, was decidedly disagreeable, but it would have been unladylike to say so. Perhaps the woman was on her period, although upon further study of the woman, Belba thought it was perhaps more likely the woman was going through menopause. Either way, Belba had no desire to speak with her and waited for the woman to be on her way. Instead of leaving, the woman took out a longer, shinier cigarette holder which held five cigarettes at a time and lit all five.

"Can I help you?" Belba asked.

"Very well," the woman said. "You're lucky I had that job opening."

"Job opening?" Belba repeated.

"Yes. I've been looking for a thief and you've got the job."

"A thief!" remarked Belba. "I already have a respectable job as a secretary, thank you very much!"

"Thief is the only respectable career for a lady," the woman declared. "No other job will allow a woman to be respected, except perhaps for murderer. But that one can be messy."

"Murderer!" Belba exclaimed. "Now see here, I will not have such horrible things said in my garden! Who do you think you are?"

"My dear Belba Buggins, do you not remember me?"

Belba blinked. Had she met this disagreeable woman before? She could not recall.

"You were a child, but surely you cannot have forgotten my fireworks at the Marabella Carnival?"

That certainly refreshed Belba's memory. She couldn't help but to gasp as she pointed at the woman before her.

"Hannalf the Horrible! Didn't they burn you at the stake for witchcraft after that?"

"They did," Hannalf admitted, looking none too pleased, "which is why I no longer make fireworks for hobbits."

At this point it should be noted that Belba Buggins was a hobbit, and she took offence to this.

"Not all hobbits," she said, "will burn a witch at the stake for producing fireworks."

Hannalf the Horrible rolled her eyes.