by Peter Brown
“Don’t be ridiculous,” interrupted Mrs. Beaver. “We can’t let a perfectly good birch go to waste!”
“I’m afraid I must insist!” said Mr. Beaver.
Mrs. Beaver turned to her husband. “Remember how you asked me to point out when you’re being stubborn and rude? Well, you’re being stubborn and rude!” Then she turned back to Roz. “Thank you, monster. If you’d be so kind as to drop the tree in the water, we’ll take it from there.”
“I am not a monster.” Roz tossed the tree like a twig. “I am a robot.” The tree smacked against the water and sent the beavers bobbing up and down.
Just then, Brightbill started peeping. “Mama! Hungry!” So Roz dropped a ball of grass into the nest.
“The gosling thinks you’re his mother?” came a quiet voice. It was Paddler, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver’s son.
“His real mother is dead,” said Roz. “So I have adopted him.”
There was a brief silence. Then Paddler looked up at Roz and said, “You’re a very good robot to take care of Brightbill.”
Mr. Beaver sighed. “Yes, yes, that’s very good of you, Roz. But I don’t understand what any of this has to do with us.”
“My son and I need a home, and Loudwing said you would help us build one.”
“Of course she did,” Mr. Beaver muttered to himself. “Loudwing gets me out of one lousy jam, and I spend the rest of my days doing her favors.”
Mrs. Beaver glared at her husband.
“Sorry,” he said, realizing he was being stubborn and rude again. “Stay right there, Roz. We need to have a family meeting.”
The three beavers slipped under the water, and a moment later their muffled voices could be heard inside the lodge. The robot stood on the dam and patiently waited with her son.
“Mama! Mama!”
“Yes, Brightbill, I am trying to act like a good mother.”
A ripple, and Mr. Beaver’s head appeared above the water. “If you bring us four more trees—good, healthy ones—maybe I’ll have time to help you and the gosling.”
“That is wonderful!” said the robot. “We will be right back!”
CHAPTER 30
THE NEST
“I’ve built my fair share of lodges over the years.” Mr. Beaver stood at the water’s edge. “But I can’t say I’ve ever built one for a robot and a gosling. So, just what exactly do you need?”
“We need a lodge big enough for us both,” said Roz. “It should be comfortable and safe. And it should be near the pond.”
“How long do you plan on living in this lodge?”
“I do not know.”
“Then we’d better make sure it’s strong and sturdy.” Mr. Beaver stroked his whiskers as he thought. “Do you plan on having friends over? The missus loves to entertain guests.”
“I do not have any friends.”
“No friends? Well, you seem pretty likable for a monster. I mean, a robot. But if you want my advice, you should grow yourself a garden. Your neighbors won’t be able to resist fresh herbs and berries and flowers. Just you wait and see! So we’ll make sure there’s a place for a garden, and we’ll give your lodge some extra space for all the friends you’ll be hosting.” The beaver winked. “We also need to find a way to keep your lodge comfortable when it’s cold outside. Our lodge is heated by our own bodies. But I think we’ll have to find another way to heat yours.”
The beaver and the robot thought about heat for a while. The first thing that came to Roz’s mind was the sun. But then she remembered the hot sparks she had felt while sliding down the mountain peak.
“I could heat our lodge with fire,” she said.
Mr. Beaver blinked his little eyes.
“I will need to experiment,” Roz continued. “But I think there is a way.”
“You go right ahead, Roz,” said the beaver. “But would you try not to burn down the entire forest?”
“Do not worry. I will be careful.”
“Let’s move on.” Mr. Beaver sighed. “The next order of business is to find a site for your lodge. That meadow across the water would be perfect, but the hares will have a fit if we try to build there. I think we should clear out some trees and build right in the forest. And I know just the place!”
The beaver took them along the water and up to a dense section of forest that jutted into the pond.
“It needs some work,” said Mr. Beaver, trudging through the thick weeds, “but this ought to do the job.”
“Yes, this ought to do the job,” said Roz, in her friendliest voice.
“Job!” said Brightbill.
Mr. Beaver was incredibly skilled at taking down trees, but even he couldn’t keep up with Roz’s powerful chopping hands. So he let the robot do the hard work. He pointed out the trees and shrubs that needed to go, and Roz started hacking away. By sunset, they were standing in a newly cleared site, and they had more than enough wood to build the lodge.
“You did some fine work today, Roz.” Mr. Beaver yawned. “I’ll return in the morning, and we’ll pick up right where we left off.”
“What would you like me to do?” said the robot.
“Tonight? So you still feel like working, do you? Very good! Well, you can start by digging out these tree stumps. And you can collect all those large, flat stones over there. And you can smooth down this patch of dirt so we have a level place to build. That should keep you busy!”
The next morning, Mr. Beaver returned to find that Roz had been very busy indeed. All the tree stumps had been dug up, and their holes filled in with dirt. Twenty large stones had been stacked. And the ground was now perfectly level. But what most astonished Mr. Beaver was that Roz and Brightbill were huddled around a small crackling campfire.
Mr. Beaver moved his lips, but no words came out.
“Brightbill was cold last night,” said Roz. “So I taught myself how to make a fire.”
“But—but—but how?”
“I discovered that when I strike these two stones together, they create sparks, like this. I directed sparks onto dry leaves and wood until they ignited. Once I had a fire, it was easy to keep it going. And if I need to put it out, I can just add water!”
Mr. Beaver sat and warmed his paws. “I’ve never seen fire in such a neat little bundle.” He stared into the flames. “I’ve only seen it blazing through the forest, burning everything in its path. But this is marvelous!” He took another minute to enjoy the warmth. Then he and the robot got back to work.
Mr. Beaver asked Roz to dig a trench here, to place large stones there, to arrange logs this way, to smear mud that way. Birds and squirrels perched in the trees and watched the new lodge take shape. It resembled the beaver lodge, but it was larger, a great dome of wood and mud and leaves. A simple opening in the wall served as the entrance, and the door was nothing more than a heavy stone that the robot could slide out of the way.
Inside, the lodge was one big, round room. The arched ceiling was high enough that Roz could stand upright. A fire pit was set into the center of the floor, and a mesh of thin branches above acted as a vent. Long stones lined the interior walls, like benches, and were covered with thick cushions of moss. There was even a hole for storing food and water for Brightbill.
“You’ve got yourself a beautiful pond-view property!” said Mr. Beaver. “What are you going to name it?”
“I do not understand.”
“Why, a beautiful lodge like this deserves a name! We call our lodge Streamcatcher.”
The robot’s computer brain didn’t take long. “The lodge is for Brightbill. Brightbill is a bird. Birds live in nests. Could we call this lodge the Nest?”
“Huzzah!” squeaked the beaver. “The Nest is a fine name for your lodge!”
“Nest! Nest!” laughed Brightbill.
They stood outside the Nest and admired their handiwork until Mr. Beaver’s belly began to grumble. “That sound means it’s time for me to go get dinner.”
“Thank you very much for your help,” said Roz. �
�We could not have done this without you.”
“You’re quite welcome!” said Mr. Beaver, smiling. “For your garden you’ll want to speak with Tawny, the doe who lives over the hill. She’ll know just what to do. And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to hurry home before Paddler eats all the best leaves. Enjoy your first night in the Nest!”
CHAPTER 31
THE FIRST NIGHT
The stars were out. A fire was crackling in the fire pit. Roz and Brightbill were settling into their first night in their new home.
“This lodge is where we will live from now on.” The robot plucked her son from his little woven nest and placed him on the floor. “I hope you like it.”
The gosling did like it. He liked that it was big and warm and peaceful. And he liked knowing that the forest and the pond were just outside. He waddled around, peeping to himself and exploring every little corner of the lodge until it was time for bed. His mother carefully laid him on a soft cushion of moss. But he didn’t want to sleep there. So she put him back in his little nest, but he didn’t want to sleep there either.
Brightbill looked up and said, “Mama, sit!”
Roz sat down.
Then he said, “Mama, hold!”
Roz held him. The robot’s body may have been hard and mechanical, but it was also strong and safe. The gosling felt loved. His eyes slowly winked closed. And he spent the whole night quietly sleeping in his mother’s arms.
CHAPTER 32
THE DEER
The deer family did not run from the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves. They had heard all about Roz and Brightbill, and they knew there was nothing to fear. Crownpoint stood before his doe and his three spotted fawns, and the family watched as the robot approached with the gosling on her shoulder.
“Hello, deer, my name is Roz, and this is Brightbill. We are looking for a doe named Tawny.”
Crownpoint moved aside, and the doe silently stepped forward.
“Mr. Beaver helped us build a lodge,” said Roz, “and he thought you might help us grow a garden.”
“Mr. Beaver helped you?” came Tawny’s gentle voice. “You must have done something for the beavers.”
“I brought them freshly cut trees,” said Roz.
Tawny looked at Crownpoint, and the buck slowly nodded.
“I will help you grow a garden,” said the doe to the robot, “if you will let my family eat from it.”
The robot nodded in agreement. And then she quietly led Tawny back to the Nest.
CHAPTER 33
THE GARDEN
After inspecting the grounds, Tawny asked Roz to remove all the dried brambles and weeds and leaves from the garden area. She asked her burrowing friends, the moles and the groundhogs, to dig through the dirt and loosen the soil. And then she asked all the neighbors to do something rather peculiar.
“Please leave your droppings around the Nest! The more droppings, the richer the soil, the healthier the garden.”
As you can imagine, Tawny’s request got everyone’s attention. The place was soon crawling with woodland creatures curious to hear more about the garden project. And just like that, the robot was meeting her neighbors. The plan to help her make friends was already starting to work.
There was a festive feeling around the Nest that day. Animals were coming and going and chatting and laughing. After some pleasant conversation, each neighbor would choose their spot, leave their droppings, and be on their way. And always with a smile.
“We’re happy to help!” said two smiling weasels after finishing up their business.
“It was our pleasure!” said a flock of smiling sparrows before they flew away.
“I shouldn’t be much longer, now,” said a smiling turtle as he slowly made his contribution.
As all this was going on, Roz walked around and thanked everyone. “I am not capable of defecating,” she explained, “so your droppings are most appreciated!”
Once the grounds were fertilized, it was time for the plants. Tawny brought Roz and Brightbill out to a lush meadow. The robot sank her fingers into the ground and felt the spongy layer of roots below the grass. Slowly, carefully, she rolled up wide strips of sod, exposing the dark, wormy soil. She carried the rolls back to the Nest and spread them out to make a patchy lawn. Then she transplanted clumps of wildflowers and clovers and berries and shrubs and herbs until the Nest was surrounded by a scraggly collection of plants.
“It’s not much to look at now,” said Tawny, “but the grass will grow into these gaps, and the flowers and bushes should perk up in a few days. I’ll return soon to make sure it’s all taking root. Before long this will be a lovely, wild garden.”
CHAPTER 34
THE MOTHER
Like most goslings, Brightbill followed his mother everywhere. He was a slow, tottering little thing, but Roz was rarely in a hurry, and together they loved meandering along the forest paths and around the banks of the pond. However, they spent most of their time right in their own garden. You see, the garden was no longer scraggly. Thanks to the robot’s careful attention, it was now bursting with colors and scents and flavors. Clearly, Roz was designed to work with plants.
“Oh, Roz, you’ve been busy!” said Tawny as her family grazed on the wonderland of growing things. “This garden is glorious! You’ll be seeing quite a lot of us around here.”
Tawny meant what she said. Each morning, around daybreak, Roz and Brightbill would hear quiet footsteps outside the Nest. And there would be Tawny and Crownpoint and their fawns, Willow, Thistle, and Brook, happily nibbling on the garden.
The deer weren’t the only regular visitors. The beavers became quite fond of gnawing on a certain hardy shrub at the edge of the garden. Digdown, the old groundhog, popped up to munch on berries. Broadfoot, the giant bull moose, came by to chew on tree shoots. And of course bees and butterflies were there every day, happily floating through the flowers. There always seemed to be friendly animals hanging around the garden.
It was amazing how differently everyone treated Roz these days. Animals who once ran from the robot in fear now stopped by the Nest just to spend time with her. The neighbors smiled and waved whenever Roz and Brightbill wandered past. And at the Dawn Truce, the other mothers were eager to share their parenting advice.
“Make sure Brightbill gets plenty of rest. A tired gosling is a cranky gosling!”
“When the wind starts blowing from the north, you must immediately get Brightbill to safety. North winds always bring bad weather.”
“You’ll never be the perfect mother, so just do the best you can. All Brightbill really needs is to know you’re doing your best.”
No gosling ever had a more attentive mother. Roz was always there, ready to answer her son’s questions, or to play with him, or to rock him to sleep, or to whisk him away from danger. With a computer brain packed full of parenting advice, and the lessons she was learning on her own, the robot was actually becoming an excellent mother.
CHAPTER 35
THE FIRST SWIM
“Good afternoon, you two!” said Loudwing as she waddled into the garden. “Remember me, Brightbill?”
“Loudwing! Loudwing!”
“Very good!” The old goose giggled. “Now, Roz, do you know what tomorrow is? Tomorrow is Swimming Day! The day when all the parents take their goslings out on the pond for the first time. And you simply must bring Brightbill.”
“Swim! Swim!” said the gosling, shaking his tail feathers.
“Brightbill can go,” said Roz, “but I cannot swim. I cannot go on the pond with him. I will not be able to protect him.”
“Who’d have thought a big thing like you would be afraid of a little water?” Loudwing laughed. “Well, don’t you worry about Brightbill; he’ll be safe in the flock. And he’s going to have so much fun swimming with the other goslings! We begin at sunrise, so don’t be late! See you in the morning!” And with that, the goose plopped into the water and glided away.
“Swim! Swim!” said
the gosling.
“Yes, Brightbill,” said the robot, staring at the pond. “Swim, swim.”
Early the next morning, peeps and honks and splashes began echoing across the calm water. Roz and Brightbill followed a trail through the fog and over to a beach that was crawling with fluffy goslings and proud parents.
Roz took a few steps into the water, and her Survival Instincts immediately flared up. The robot’s computer brain knew that if water got inside her body, it could do serious damage. And so as the other parents began swimming across the pond, Roz stood safely in the shallows and watched.
Brightbill ran up and down the beach with the other goslings, peeping and laughing and pretending to be afraid of the tiny waves. When one wave finally pulled him in, he felt his body floating on top of the water. A big smile appeared on the gosling’s face. Clearly, Brightbill was designed to swim.
“Very good, Brightbill!” said Loudwing as she floated past. “You’re a natural!”
“Yes, Brightbill, you are a natural!” said Roz, trying to sound like a good mother.
Loudwing rounded up all the goslings and gave them a quick swimming lesson. “Remember, everyone, paddle your feet evenly to swim in a straight line. Paddle with your right foot to go left, and paddle with your left foot to go right. Try it out and join the rest of us when you’re ready. Happy Swimming Day!”
Loudwing and the other adult geese calmly glided toward the center of the pond. A jumble of goslings tried to keep up with them. The youngsters jostled and splashed and peeped with excitement, and gradually they paddled in the direction of their parents.
Only Brightbill lagged behind. “Mama swim?”
Roz pointed to the flock. “I cannot swim. Go have fun with the other geese. You will be safe with them.”
The gosling took a deep breath. Then he shook his tail feathers and paddled his feet and set out on his very first swim. He drifted too far to the left. Then he drifted too far to the right. But his feet just kept paddling until he caught up to the other goslings.
