Bartholomew Does Something Rather Grand

Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid.

~ Franklin P. Jones

"A rescue, you said?" it was the golden voice of the calm lady speaking. A massive wooden door had been opened and closed and the sound of boot heels echoed off stone to rebound in a very large space. Bartholomew could tell from the way the voices were ringing that they were in a prodigious great room.

"A squirrel," Pete said.

Bartholomew hunched as a large hand reached into the pocket and great strong fingers closed around his little furry body. He didn't bite…but he wanted to. He began to rise…then stuck.

"Oh hang it," Pete said. "I went and put him in the pocket with the string and he's gotten himself all tangled up in it."

A moment later, Bartholomew Nutty was pulled into the light, string and all. He stared with great eyes as he stood with as much dignity as he could muster on the palm of that very large hand. He clutched his tail.

Massive people stood around him; a lady with golden hair was already untangling the string from around his paws, another lady with very dark hair had put a hand to her mouth and saw staring back at him with adoring eyes, a brown haired man with kind eyes stood to the side and Bartholomew knew he must be Peridan. Ed was there too, looking at him with amusement twitching the corner of his mouth.

And all around the people was the room…it was such a massive and large room that at first Bartholomew thought it was outdoors; the gilded ceiling seemed as high as the sky and a great glittering staircase came down from a higher storey like a waterfall. The woodwork all around was so cleverly carved that he might be forgiven for at first thinking he was in a forest grove.

"Good morning, friend, and how are you?" It was Ed speaking, leaning down a little to be on the same level. Bartholomew looked up into his clear blue eyes and realized with a jolt that Ed was addressing him.

"V-v-very good…s-sir," Bartholomew clutched his tail even harder. He had never spoken to a Man before.

"What is your name, young one?" Pete asked. "Are you the missing Squirrel washed away from Oak's Edge last night?"

"I'm B-b-bartholomew N-n-nutty, if you please…sir…and that was me…I blew away in the night."

"Oh, poor little dear! How dreadfully your family must be worried!" this was the dark haired lady, who had been worried herself before. The golden haired lady's voice was golden, but hers was silver. She held out her cupped hands to Bartholomew and after a hesitation, he stepped into them. They were cold…but somehow he didn't mind. They were gentle.

"You must be nearly dead from exhaustion…and being carried around in a pocket, too," she glanced up at Pete with reproach. Bartholomew fancied he saw a resemblance.

"There wasn't really anywhere else to put him," Pete said defensively. "And he's safe and sound now."

"I'd have done the same, Su," Ed added.

"We'll have to set him up with a good dinner, anyway," the golden haired lady said, holding out a hand for Bartholomew. Obediently he scampered up her arm and settled on her shoulder. Her hand had been warm. "I'll find someone to take care of him. And remember, it's Christmas. We haven't even finished decorating the tree."

"I have some work to finish, first," Pete said.

"So have I," Ed added. "Spending reports."

And with that, they all took their leave, wishing Bartholomew, especially, a Good Morning. Bartholomew watched them go, listening as their voices grew gradually fainter.

"Funny," he heard Pete's voice echoing down a corridor off the great entrance hall. "I thought I still had a bit of toffee left."

A few minutes more, and Bartholomew was alone with the golden haired lady, riding her shoulder down sunlit corridors to look out jack-frosted windows at a freezing world outside. This was what squirrels were meant to do, he quickly decided. From up here, he had a human eye's view on the world; he could look people in the eye at their own level. It made his heart beat a little faster. The whole time, Lucy talked, saying what door went where, and telling about how someone named Prince Corin had slid down those stairs on a tea tray and how someone else (Bartholomew thought she might have said 'Ed') had knocked a ball through that window by accident.

Presently, he perceived from his exalted position that a small squirrel, near his own size, was coming swiftly down the corridor towards them. It was a She-Squirrel, Bartholomew saw, and a very Pretty one. His heart thundered against his ribs when Lucy stopped her.

"Are you in a particular hurry?" she asked.

"I'm only bringing a message to Queen Susan from the Head Cook about the geese. She thinks she'll have enough after all."

"I'll tell her," Lucy said. "Meanwhile, I'd like you to take our young friend, Bartholomew, to a warm dinner."

Almost before he knew what was happening, Bartholomew was standing on the floor next to the other Squirrel. He was almost jealous…this young Squirrel of about his own age and size, was wearing dark green livery with the letters 'CP' embroidered in gold.

"Thank you, and good bye, Bartholomew," Lucy said, starting back down the corridor. "See that he has a room."

"Consider it done, your majesty," the She-Squirrel said importantly.

Bartholomew's head suddenly whirled…

"What did you call her?" he gasped.

"Your majesty…" the She-Squirrel replied in a puzzled voice. "What else should I call Queen Lucy?"

"Queen Lucy…" Bartholomew considered fainting…but remembered he wasn't alone. It would never do to faint in front of her.

"And the other people…Pete and Ed and Su…"

"The High King and King Edmund and Queen Susan," the other Squirrel replied. "Really, you are quite stupid."

Bartholomew felt humbled. And the other Squirrel took pity on him.

"My name is Angelique," she said. "And I'm pleased to meet you. Are you the Squirrel that went missing from Oak's Edge?"

"Yes," Bartholomew said.

"You must have had a time," Angelique said with something like envy in her voice. "Well, don't stand there gawking; come along."

Angelique set off at a dash along the shining wood floor. She seemed to have only one speed, which was far too fast for a Squirrel who had just been rescued from death forty-one minutes before. But Bartholomew would never show weakness and he gritted his teeth and kept up as best he could.

But it wasn't long before she came to a halt before a panel, and, when she touched it in a particular place, Bartholomew, to his astonishment, saw it swing suddenly inwards, revealing a squirrel sized passage with a squirrel sized carpet on the floor. Wonderingly, he followed Angelique in.

There were a row of panelled doors to the right with small brass placards on them telling who was inside. Angelique stopped and tapped respectfully at one labelled Head of the Department of Squirrel Affairs.

"Come in!" a rather frazzled voice said from inside.

They went in.

It was a squirrel sized room, with a heavy desk at one end beneath a small window that had long ago been covered with snow. On entering, Bartholomew saw the walls lined with squirrel sized bookshelves with all sorts of delectable squirrelish titles…Of Squirrels and Men, A Tale of Two Squirrels, Squirrel and Peace, Much Ado about Squirrels, Squirrelanger Abbey, Gone with the Squirrel, That Hideous Squirrel and a three volume set called The Lord of the Squirrels.

"Work, work, work! I'm snowed under with work!" A rather portly Squirrel with a monocle sat at the desk, pulling in exasperation at his ear tufts. He grabbed a handful of papers and threw them in the air. They came fluttering down like snowflakes. "I doubt even the High King himself has as much work as I do! Release forms! Permissions! The Squirrel Choir has run out of funding just before Christmas! I'm going to go mad!"

"I have Bartholomew Nutty, the Squirrel who went missing from Oak's Edge," Angelique informed him. "Queen Lucy said he was to have dinner and a room."

"More work!" The monocled Squirrel screamed. "Take him away! Do something with him, just don't bother me with it. I'm busy! Good morning!"

A moment later, they found themselves back in the corridor staring at a closed door.

"Well!" Angelique said in disgust. "That's what you get for going through the Proper Channels. We'll just figure it ourselves, then."

And quite rudely, she stuck her tongue out at the door.

"What will we do now?" Bartholomew said.

"Take you to a warm dinner and a room," Angelique said. "That's what Queen Lucy directed and that's what I shall do."

~o*o~

After a meal in the squirrel dining hall, Bartholomew was taken to a room of his own. He had never had a room of his own before…in fact, he'd never slept in a bed before, only a pile of heather…and he didn't know what sheets were and had never seen a real embroidered coverlet. There was even a pitcher and washbasin on a stand and a mirror over the dresser.

Bartholomew had never seen a reflection of his own face…sometimes, if the river was very still, he could see a hazy reflection, but it was very faint. As his mother always said, what you can't see, won't hurt you.

But he couldn't help gazing for a long time at the thin and haggard young Squirrel that stared out from the mirror. He could see quite a lot of his father in that face and some of Aunt Gertie and a second cousin named Mazy. And the longer he looked, the sadder he felt, because this threadbare little Squirrel was so Small and Insignificant. Here he was, tucked away in a little room somewhere in the foundations of this Great and Magnificent castle, run by four magnificent people who were both Great and Just, Brave and Gentle. He could only accept their goodness…he could never repay them. What could he, Bartholomew Nutty, do of the slightest Significance?

And with that rather unhappy thought, he went to bed.

It seemed only a second later that he was woken rudely by whiskers against his face.

"Wake up!" a voice said. "You've been sleeping like a log for five hours! You don't won't to miss the Lighting of the Tree and the Christmas feast, do you?"

Bartholomew opened his eyes to see Angelique looking down at him in dissatisfaction. She had a dripping sponge in one paw. "I've brought you something to wear. I think it's about your size."

And Bartholomew suddenly stopped breathing when he saw what she had over her arm. It was a green velvet doublet with the letters 'CP' worked in gold on the chest. A Palace Squirrel! For at least one night, he would be a Palace Squirrel! He almost couldn't bear the deliciousness of the Thought.

"Well, get up and put it on," Angelique said.

A moment later, the two of them were racing down the corridors again, shoulder to shoulder. Sometimes the corridors went straight up and they had to scamper up walls to get to another story of the castle. Sometimes they passed windows, and once they paused to look out at the courtyard, to see that in the deep freeze of the gathering night, a great sheet of ice had formed and skaters were spinning and dancing, reflected upside-down with the burning torches that flickered gold.

At last, they continued on, and presently the gloom was cut by a blade of light when Angelique opened a little door and stepped out into a massive room.

As Bartholomew followed her, he saw that this was the largest room of all…far larger than the entrance hall…far larger, it seemed, than even Outdoors. He couldn't help wondering if even the sky on a summer day was as high as that great, dark hammerbeam roof. There were creatures everywhere, all sorts of Animals and Centaurs, Fauns and Humans, all talking and laughing…some on the great inlayed floor, some lined up on the balconies, all hanging garlands of gold and green, glimmering with holly and mistletoe and scented with spices.

And in the very middle of the floor stood a Tree.

What a tree it was! It towered in the room, nearly seeming to brush the ceiling with a feathered top, and on all its many branches hung gold and silver, sparkling and beautiful. Even as Bartholomew watched, little birds with lit tapers in their beaks were flying around it, lighting a thousand little candles until that Great Hall seemed to shimmer with ten thousand lights as each light glittered and glittered again off sparkling windows and mirrors.

"It's stupendous, isn't it?" Angelique asked and Bartholomew could only nod. He couldn't speak. It was too wonderful. It seemed to him that just being part of Something so Grand and Beautiful would be enough…even if it was only a very little and insignificant part.

As they went further into the room, they saw that the two kings and the two queens were there, standing looking up at the Tree. They were dressed in magnificent clothes, not the everyday clothes Bartholomew had seen them in before. A great, kingly man stood with them and Angelique said it was King Lune of Archenland and that bright and jolly boy who stood with him was Corin, the Crown Prince. King Edmund had a fiddle and was gently playing a tune Bartholomew had never heard before. Beside him, Queen Susan began to sing, softly at first, but growing in confidence.

"I," said the donkey, shaggy and brown,

"I carried His mother up hill and down;

I carried her safely to Bethlehem town."

"I," said the donkey, shaggy and brown.

~o*o~

"I," said the cow all white and red

"I gave Him my manger for His bed;

I gave him my hay to pillow his head."

"I," said the cow all white and red.

~o*o~

"I," said the sheep with curly horn,

"I gave Him my wool for His blanket warm;

He wore my coat on Christmas morn."

"I," said the sheep with curly horn.

~o*o~

"I," said the dove from the rafters high,

"I cooed Him to sleep so He would not cry;

We cooed him to sleep, my mate and I."

"I," said the dove from the rafters high.

Bartholomew listened to her beautiful, silvery voice, more lovely, even, than the River on a summer's day. And he thought, if only I could sing like that, perhaps it wouldn't matter that I am a Squirrel of very Small Stature. And as he stood there, with shining eyes, he realized that Queen Lucy had knelt down next to him.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," he said, wondering that she, a Queen, should even speak to him. "I'm sorry I didn't know before that you were Queen Lucy."

Lucy laughed her golden laugh, "Does it matter?"

"It does matter!" Bartholomew cried. "You are Great and Good; all people bow before you and do you homage…I only wish I could do something great to show you how Wonderful you are."

"Ah," Lucy said softly, "And sometimes I wish I could do something great to show how wonderful my own Master is. But I cannot, because he is so great and so wonderful, anything I could do would seem like nothing."

"You too?" Bartholomew asked, taking a hold of his tail. "But you can't quite understand how it is to be little and insignificant like me. I am so small and you are so much larger, you can't quite Know what it's like."

"Perhaps not quite," Lucy said leaning closer to him. "But, often times, no matter how Little and Insignificant we are, we found ourselves doing Things far beyond our power. Sometimes it's about being in the right Place at the right Time…sometimes it's something we manage to say, which goes far Deeper than we could ever imagine. You never Know. All that matters is that we are There and Ready. It doesn't matter if we are Small, or Great, only that we are here for such a Time as This."

Bartholomew stared up at her, with shivering heart and wide eyes. Could even he, Bartholomew Nutty, be There and Ready for such a Time as This? It seemed like such a terrible and brave thing, to Wait for the Word even when it was Beyond his Power.

"Just Be," Lucy said, putting a hand on his tiny head before she stood up.

Queen Susan was looking through one of the last boxes of ornaments, before she picked up a rather insignificant box tied up with string. She looked from it, up at the tree, then back again.

"I say, Edmund," she said, and her brother stopped fiddling for a moment. "Someone went and forgot to put the Star up at the very top of the tree."

She opened the box and held the Star up, a thing of filigree gold…shimmering.

"Oh," Edmund said, looking at it. "I wonder how that happened?" He turned, glancing around the room. "Can anyone run it up to the top?"

And a little voice from near his feet said, "I can!" and Bartholomew Nutty, country squirrel, stepped forward to offer his services.

"Good man!" Peter exclaimed.

And in the moments that followed, Bartholomew was tying the Star to his back with a bit of string. They were wishing him Aslan's Speed…then, he was rushing up the branches, mile after mile of glittering ornaments, gold lit candles…glass icicles dashing light. The roof was coming nearer…he saw faces watching him from the balconies.

Then, he was at the very tippy top, clinging, his tail twisting to keep his balance as he untied the Star. With the very last of his strength, he lifted it into place. He could hear cheering from down below and he looked back to see them all so small and insignificant at the base of the tree, looking up at him. He saw Angelique with an expression almost of admiration, he saw the Kings and Queens smiling…and thanking him.

And Bartholomew Nutty knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, that even Small Animals can be Useful to Great Kings.

The End

Author's Note: And there it is, the final chapter of the Wanderings of Bartholomew...I hope you enjoyed it! I must say, I am not adverse to furthering Bartholomew's story at some Point in Time. If anyone has any ideas for Adventures that could happen to him, please feel free to let me know. ;) He is rather a Special Squirrel.

Thank you so much for all your Kind Comments!

Merry Christmas from both of us to All of You!

~Rose and Psyche