back at the doorstep

chapter 6

By eight o’ clock that evening, the Bloom residence had enough people in it to warrant a township. The roll call was as follows:

The locals, Ian and Nick, arrived with two of Ian’s great-nephews and their girlfriends as well as five of Nick’s friends from New Zealand. John came with “a lady friend” whom he proceeded to serenade for the rest of the night.

From the north, Sean Bean, his wife Marie, her sons, Colin and Rafferty, his youngest daughter, Evie, and her boyfriend. Fortunately for the boyfriend, Sean was better behaved than Orlando. Well, a maybe only a little better.

The Glaswegian visitors took up an entire neighbourhood themselves with Billy, Jillian, their first set of twins, Nick and Jamie, Tarrin the Tornado, the girl twins, Kiera and Aislinn, and baby Nesta. Just in case that wasn’t entertaining enough, they brought with them a chest of toys that hooted, whistled, chimed, beeped, bopped and, inevitably, booped.

From New York, Elijah and Liv who’d arrived with her husband and two daughters just a few hours ago. Yasmina Langdon pointed out that her elder sister, Amber, and Rafferty Hausmann-Bean were making eyes at each other. Royston, Liv's husband, was very unamused.

Viggo came on his lonesome from his cabin in the Colorado Rockies. Henry was in the middle of touring and couldn’t get any time off.

The rest of the Americans hailed from LA. Sean and Christine came with all three of their children--Ally, Joshua, and Lisa--who also brought spouses, boyfriends, and children to add twelve more to the party. Dominic and Anita came with their two daughters, Naomi and Victoria. Terrence, their eldest, was in the middle of the summer term in university.

The Kiwi brigade included Karl and his family of five and David and his four. Unfortunately, Miranda and Peter were both in the middle of a tight filming schedule but in true New Zealand fashion, they sent a box each of little nonsensical gifts.

Finally were the owners of the house themselves-- Orlando, Mira, and CJ plus two mutts, five obese koi, and one cat to rule them all.

Sardines were more comfortable in their cans.

“This place has really changed,” Viggo was saying as he unloaded his two bags from the taxi. “I was thinking of going for a drive for a few months. After all this is finished. Maybe stay in London for a while. Bean says fishing up north is a dream.”

"So, where are ye goin' tae stay?" asked Billy.

The American shrugged, his movements still as fluid as when he first picked up a sword. "I'll rent a flat. Somewhere in the area."

"You're free to stay with us," offered Ian.

"Or us." CJ nudged Orlando who nodded vigorously.

Viggo gave them his lop-sided grin. "You two lovebirds make me jealous," he told Ian and Nick. "Besides, I know Nick's going to throw a fit if I turn one of the bathrooms into a darkroom. And you and Orli already have Elijah staying over. Speaking of which, where is Ol' Bug-Eye?"

"He and Mira volunteered for kitchen duty,” said CJ. Then she added with an impish tone, “Actually, I think Lij just wants to stay away from the Boyd bratlings and Mira felt sorry for him.”

Billy winked, his smile reaching both ears. "I personally know two girls who are ready tae rip Mira's eyes out. First for having Orlando Bloom as her father, then having Elijah Wood as a houseguest and finally, to top it all off, getting a visit from Colin Hunka-Hunka Burnin' Love' Hausmann. I am, once again, demoted tae chopped liver." Billy sighed and put a hand over his chest as his lower lip trembled. Snorting, Viggo bopped him lightly on the head with his fist. Billy let out an affronted squawk. "And abused, too! I'm telling Jillian on you."

"I'm shaking. No, really," insisted Viggo. "Your wife is scary. We have to set up a date for the photoshoot. Heard she's got some disgusting pictures of you even."

"And you want to see it?" Orlando made a retching face.

"I want to see it." CJ gave Billy a wink. "We were supposed to go out, remember? Before my best friend stole you away?"

"Bashed me on me head that first date," agreed Billy. "Lord love the woman. But she absolutely cannae control herself around me."

“Hah!” Jill came in with a glass of sparkling wine and hooked her arm around Billy’s. “I only hit you because you wouldn’t stop kissing the ground I walked on.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“You betcha.” Billy leaned down to whisper something in Jill’s ear. She turned purple, stopped breathing for a few seconds, then blinked dazedly. “Wow. Okay, fine, I concede.”

Dom, as the resident chef, peeked into the kitchen every few minutes to make sure that all went well. Usually, he and Jill got along great but woe betide anyone who got caught in the crossfire should an argument about food erupt. Anita called it an argument; Billy called it calculated military manoeuvres and taught his children to duck under heavy furniture. Current score was at tie due to the fact that no one wanted to get on Jillian or Dom's bad side. This night, Elijah was ready to declare Dom a winner if only to shut him up.

“Dom, I’m okay,” he said. Again. For the fourteenth time. In the past ten minutes.

“Garnishes make or break a plate, Lij.” Dom peered around the young man’s shoulder to observe Elijah’s cutting techniques. “Jill’s using carrot curls in hers. Maybe I should use butterfly slices.”

“I don’t know how to make butterfly slices.”

“Oh, it’s simple, just--“

“Dammit, Dom! Go away and stop hovering!”

“But the garnishes--“

“Come near me again and I’ll show you where I’ll stick this damned carrot, butterfly or no.”

In the counter next to a sizzling wok, Mira silently julienned her string beans and made a mental note to go to Dom’s restaurants more often.

Because of the size of the crowd, there were three designated dining areas. The Fellowship and their spouses occupied the largest table in the formal dining room. Those under the age of eighteen gulped down their meals in the games room while playing foozball and billiards with the stereo on high. The remaining guests, mainly the college goers and the second generation who had very young children, ate in the living room which was only separated from the dining area by a long, narrow table that housed the desserts. The desserts had its own table because every single person knew each other’s sugar addictions-- Dom’s in particular-- and brought a plate of goodies.

Mira stayed in the games room during the actual meal but at around dessert time, she migrated to the adult table. Not only did Jill and CJ let her sip from their glasses (port and rum and Coke respectively) but Ian was guaranteed to tell a story after being well fed. He was right in the middle of one when she came in.

"... course, you call know how junkets are. Same damned questions over and over again given the exact same answers over and over again."

The rest of the Fellowship nodded, some groaning in remembrance.

"I just got bored, that's all." Ian shrugged. "Strange things happen in the midst of boredom."

"And what," Nick put in, "could be stranger than his august presence jumping out of his chair with his hands on his hips and proclaiming 'I am... Magneto!' In a powder blue oxford shirt, no less."

Billy hooted, slapping his lap. "I'm going tae burst me gut!"

Ian took a calm sip of his drink but his eyes were twinkling. "He did ask about my other movie roles."

"Can you imagine if you did that for the Shakespearean faculty next week?" Sean B. adjusted imaginary spectacles, an invisible pen poised over a nonexistent pad of paper. "And how do you see this Magneto character in terms of the sociopolitical pressures during the Elizabethan period, sir?"

"Richard III," said Sean A. "Magneto's probably most like Richard III."

"I rather see him as Lear, myself. Good intentions but misguided."

"Awfully cute in leather," added Nick with a wink.

Jill smacked her lips. "Mmm, Ian in leather. Colour me intrigued."

"My darling, Jillian." Ian took her hand and gave it an affectionate pat. "If only your dangly bits were a foot lower, I'd be more than happy to accommodate you."

Jill rolled her eyes. "Last I looked, they hung to about that distance." She waited a few breaths' time before nudging her husband. "That's your cue."

Billy immediately dropped his glass and cleared his throat in dramatic fashion, one hand at his chest, the other raised as in classical speech. "Yuir breasts are as sweet an' firm an' delectable as apples freshly picked from the Garden of Eden."

"Apples?"

"Er... peaches? Cantaloupes? Surely no' pears. Ouch! That's husband abuse an' I dinna have tae take it!" Billy grabbed Jill's flailing fists, biting down lightly on the knuckles.

"Ah, enough of you two randy rabbits." Mira waved away the scene. "How about an embarrassing Elwood story?"

"Why me?" Elijah demanded.

"Why not?"

"Wouldn't you rather hear about embarrassing Billy stories? There are dozens."

Mira wagged a finger at him. "Elijah, I am appalled. I have nothing but respect for Billy and could never believe that he would be able to do anything without grace, prudence and a suave je ne sais quoi."

Billy raised his glass in a toast. "Oh, I like that. Yuir gettin' a raise."

John, on the other hand, gave her a doubtful, disgusted expression. "Can you smell anything past that hunk of brown on your nose?"

"Honestly," said Mira after the chuckles died down. "Aren't there any nice, juicy, horribly embarrassing Elwood stories in your brain, Uncle Ian? There must be at least one."

"I know!" Sean B. clapped a hand on the table. "Tell her about the time they had to evacuate the make-up trailer."

The entire table burst into laughter as Elijah cried, "No! Not that one!" His face went grey then neon pink.

"Ooooh, yes, that one!" squealed Mira, clapping.

"Oh, God." Elijah dropped his head on the table. "I hate you all."

Ian took a thoughtful sip of his wine then sat back to get in a comfortable talking position. "It was the very first full day of shooting in New Zealand. Just approaching summertime, I believe, the ambient temperature being warm enough for jeans and a light, long-sleeved shirt.

"As I said, it was the first full day of shooting, which meant the hobbits were up at about five in the morning so that two hours later, they emerged in their woolen, foam-latexed glory at the set. You will recall--" Ian patted his chin with two fingers. "-- that Elijah had the sweatiest feet of all the hobbits? Well, you can imagine the state his feet were in by that time. They taped for twelve hours straight, only reapplying glue to Elijah's feet around lunch time at his request."

"I didn't want to waste time," Elijah said, his voice half-muffled by his hands.

"He was dead embarrassed," was Dom’s contribution.

"Any case, at about seven-thirty in the evening just as Gandalf was getting his prosthetic nose removed, my own very real nose encountered the most dreadful... nauseating... hellish odour emanating from the other side of the partition."

"It was Elijah," Sean A. jumped in, unable to contain himself. "As soon as Helen--his make-up person-- took off the foot, there was this sloppy, sucking noise-- like 'ssshhhhlep'-- an' there was this... smell!" His face wrinkled up. "To this day, I cannot forget that smell. It was like a colony of diseased rats had drowned in a sewer and were left to dry out in a damp pantry."

As one, the table tipped their heads back and howled. Dom almost fell out of his seat. Liv did and remained curled in foetal position for a good ten minutes.

"Imagine," continued Sean. "His feet stuck in those rubber things that wouldn’t let them breathe, right? The sweat had collected over the hours so much that there was a puddle inside and his f-f-feet were white and wrinkled.”

Mira tears stained Nick’s shirt. CJ wiped her nose on Orlando’s. Meanwhile, Elijah kept trying to melt into the table, muttering something about justifiable homicide.

"Even after they left the doors open all night, the hobbits had to use a different bus the next day." Ian ended his story by giving Elijah's back a conciliatory pat. "From that day forward, they always replaced his feet at noon, no matter if they were coming off or not."

"Thank you, Ian," Elijah bit out. "I'd just gotten over that. Now I'm going to have to visit a shrink for another ten years."

"Believe me, Elijah; it was my pleasure."

More port was poured to those with empty glasses. CJ broke out the cigars and the conversation moved to more important subjects.

Elijah let the flavour of the tobacco roll in his tongue. "Billy's turn. You guys have to have something equally embarrassing about Billy."

"Isn't being Billy an embarrassment in and of itself?" said Orlando.

The subject of the conversation threatened to stick a butter knife in his host's eye. "Just wait until it's yuir turn, Elf Boy. I could tell Mira stories tha' would make her completely lose all respect for ye."

"Will never happen. Will it, love?" Orlando threw his daughter a smile that, for as long as she could remember, was only meant for her.

"Not a chance, Papa."

"Aww... how sweeeeet," Jill cooed as she cuddled her tumbler. "Aren't they sweet? Why don't our kids say things like that?"

"Because they learn swear words at birth from you, love." Billy kissed the tip of her nose.

“Get a bloody room.” Viggo tossed a wilted spinach leaf at them.

“Remember when we got Elwood lost in the woods?” said Orlando.

Elijah pushed off from the table, crossing his arms and doing his best to look pissed off. “What is this-- Pick-on-Elijah night?”

“Oh, yeah.” Dom clapped rubbed his hands together in sadistic joy.

“No, no, no.” CJ waved her hands around. “Tell her about the first time you fed him dog meat. That one always kills me.”

“Give me break, guys!” Lij shot Mira a half-hearted glare. “This is all your fault.”

She only grinned, unrepentant.

John rubbed his chin. “I’ve always been partial to the story about the ice cubes myself.”

“They did the ice cube thing to you, too?” Sean B exclaimed. “Ach, I’m on your side then. Never trust an Elf who’s friends with a Dwarf.”

Orlando and John traded high fives.

“What’s this?” Ian asked, always ready for a new tale.

“Wake-up call,” answered Orlando, unabashedly proud. “We snuck into Sean’s apartment with a couple of ice cubes, stuck them in his armpits, and taped his arms to his sides.”

“He fought well,” John intoned quite seriously, “He fought bravely. But he was no match for us.”

“Elijah was just our test subject.”

“I feel so much better.” Elijah rolled his eyes. “I didn’t see you enjoying your wake-up call.”

“It was five against one!”Orlando protested.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch.”

“Bitsh!” came from the corridor. Nesta waddled in holding up a broken toy.

“Bih,” parroted Ally Astin’s firstborn holding up an empty bottle.

Sean A. scowled. “Now you’ve all got my grandson swearing!” He picked both kids up, one on each arm. After throwing the giggling, unrepentant group an admonishing scowl, he walked away.

They all looked at each other. “Remember,” said Billy, “when Sean tried to direct the helicopters on the mountains?”