Bettina’s search continued. She’d trudged only a few feet when, out of the corner of one eye, she caught a glimpse of something moving. She snapped her head in the direction of the something. Whatever it was had stopped. Perhaps it was a rabbit. Or her own imagination.
She threw her pack over her shoulder and moved on. There it was again! This time she saw it for more than a second. It was small and lightning fast. And red. Red? What is red in the forest in wintertime? She darted toward the spot where she’d seen the flash of color and waited. Ahead, but not too far, she saw it again and she followed.
The small red blur continued to disappear only to reappear a short distance ahead, seeming to dare Bettina to keep up. She followed as closely as she could but never managed to get a good look at whatever it was that was leading her. Bettina soon found that keeping an eye on the ground and her surroundings at the same time was nearly impossible.
For half an hour, she hurried after the elusive blur. Every time she thought she’d lost it, a small glimmer of red would reappear. Eventually, Bettina became wary. Was this a trick? Did someone wish for her to become so disoriented in the forest that she would be lost for days?
Bettina stopped running. Nothing was familiar. She stared at the ground around her and saw a mingled mess of footprints, all of them her own. How could she have been so stupid? She had followed the little red blur blindly, and now? Now she imagined her parents coming home to find not one but both of their daughters missing!
Up ahead there was movement again. Bettina trailed it cautiously now, trying to find something familiar in her surroundings. She circled around a pine and found herself standing at the foot of the big crooked oak, the one with a million acorns near where Far and Mr. Pedersen had cut wood. How had she gotten back here when moments ago she was sure she was lost?
Bettina took one step toward the tree when her left boot got caught beneath a huge gnarled root. Thwack. She hit the hard white ground, arms out to her sides and facedown in the frosty snow. Still flat out on her stomach, Bettina used a mittened hand to wipe the cold snow from her eyes.
When she opened them, she quickly squeezed them shut again. It was a test; Bettina had to be sure her eyes were not playing tricks on her. She opened them slowly, drew in her breath, and forgot to let it out again.
It was no trick. Before her stood the tiniest man she’d ever seen. He had a round face with a mischievous expression framed in dark brown curls and a full brown beard. He wore a brown coat and boots. Red stockings covered his knees. And on top of his head was a tall red pointed cap that drooped just a bit at the point. The flash of red!
The little man gave Bettina a long, significant look, then darted under another root of the big crooked oak.
Bettina blinked her eyes one more time as she lay flat on her stomach in the snow. It was a nisse! She was absolutely certain. He looked just like the little people in books, only more . . . real. But where had he disappeared to? All that lay before her was a twisted old tree root.
Pushing herself up on her elbows, Bettina used her teeth to remove one snow-soaked mitten. With her bare hand, she reached behind her and found the zipper on her backpack. She dug around until she had her hand on the small flashlight she’d packed. Clicking it on, she searched deep beneath the root. She half expected to find the little nisse man hiding there, cowering in the cold, perhaps as frightened of her as she was surprised by him.
Instead, what she saw made her draw in her breath yet again. The yellow glow of her flashlight illuminated a tiny wooden door, complete with a dull iron knocker, two wrought-iron hinges, and a latch. Should she . . . knock? As she contemplated how she would lift the minuscule knocker with fingers that seemed far too large, the door opened and an old, gray nisse man stepped out. He immediately shielded his eyes from the blinding light with one short arm. He was dressed similarly to the nisse Bettina had followed through the forest, only the point of his cap stood straight and tall.
And then the nisse spoke.
“Welcome, Bettina. We’ve been expecting you.”
Bettina nearly dropped her flashlight. The older nisse man was talking to her! And he knew her name! She struggled to keep the light focused squarely on the tiny man.
“I . . . how do you know me?”
The man took a step to the left, still shielding his eyes with one arm.
“Would you be so kind as to lower your light just a bit?” he asked politely.
“Oh!” Bettina cried, feeling embarrassed. “Of course.”
She aimed the light on the old man’s boots instead, which cast the area behind the open door in shadows. Bettina was intensely curious, and she was sorely tempted to shine the light behind the man to see inside, if only for a moment. But the little man was being so nice, and he might have information that would lead her to Pia. She didn’t want to offend him.
“You’re looking for your baby sister,” the nisse stated.
“Yes.” Bettina breathed deeply. His mention of Pia must mean he knows where she is! “Yes, is she . . . is she in there?” It was a ridiculous question. The door itself was smaller than Pia.
The little man’s round red cheeks grew redder. His dark eyes became a bit darker with concern. He shook his head, and his red cap swayed.
“No, my dear. I’m afraid she’s not here. She should be. But she’s not.”
She should be? “What do you mean?”
The old gentleman opened his mouth to answer, then froze. “Shh. Listen,” he said, his gray head and red cap tilted to one side.
Bettina listened. She heard nothing and was about to say so, but the nisse man was listening so intently, she tried again.
At first she heard only the sounds of the forest in the late afternoon. Sparrows making their final flights before settling in for the night. A squirrel’s toes scratching across a fallen log as he hunted one last hiding place that might contain a nut for a bedtime snack. Just regular evening woodland sounds met Bettina’s ears until . . .
“Bettina! Bettina Larsen!”
It was unmistakably the sound of Rasmus Pedersen’s voice. And it appeared to be coming closer.
“You must not answer, Bettina,” the old nisse told her.
“But it’s Mr. Pedersen,” she protested. “He’s looking for me.”
“If you want to find your baby sister, we must keep all other humans out of this,” he told her with such authority in his voice that Bettina wanted to obey without question. But having had no previous experience with a real-life nisse, she was leery. She raised her flashlight just a bit. The odd little face that glowed in its beam looked honest and sincere.
“BET-TINA!”
This time Mr. Pedersen’s voice was loud and clear and close by. Very close by.
Bettina looked once more at the nisse man. She could answer Mr. Pedersen. She could call out to him right now, and he would hear her. But something in the old gentleman’s eyes convinced her to stay quiet. They were no doubt the kindest eyes she had seen since Farfar’s.
“Come inside,” the nisse said, pointing toward the tiny door.
“What? I can’t . . .”
“Indeed, you can,” he assured her. “Just reach for the door.”
Reach for the door? Her hand alone was bigger than the door!
“BET-TINA! BET-TINA!”
Should she trust this small stranger more than a longtime neighbor?
“Now!”
Bettina, still lying on her stomach in the snow, glanced over her shoulder and saw Mr. Pedersen appear in the distance. When she looked back at the tree, the old nisse had disappeared and the tiny door was firmly closed.
She had only a moment to decide what to do next.
With her eyes closed tightly, Bettina thrust her hand into the space beneath the root. She felt the tiny latch and pushed down. The door opened, and with a sudden rush of air, she felt herself being pulled inside.
Bettina stood eye to eye with three little people inside a cozy kitchen in a tidy house.
Gammel extended his hand and Bettina shook it, amazed to see that her hand looked small in his!
“I did not have sufficient time to warn you,” Gammel continued. “I know you must be a bit surprised.”
Surprised, indeed. Bettina wasn’t sure what she thought would happen when she reached for the small door beneath the crooked oak, but she never expected to find herself standing inside such a beautiful, brightly lit kitchen with a handful of . . . yes, she was quite certain they were . . . nisse.
Bettina may have been speechless, but her hosts were not.
“Hello, my dear. I’m Pernilla,” said the nisse woman, her smile so broad and her eyes so kind, Bettina couldn’t help but smile in return. “Gammel is my father.”
Pernilla was neatly dressed in a crisp white blouse and a long green skirt that swished as she took a step toward Bettina and clasped her hand. On her head perched a tall cap just like the little nisse man wore, only Pernilla’s was green. Long blond braids with just a hint of gray hung down either side of her face.
“Welcome,” the third nisse chimed in — another man. His beard was also gray but not nearly as long as Gammel’s. “They call me Hagen,” he said, his voice deep but friendly.
Bettina glanced around. Where was the nisse she had chased through the woods? The frantic little man with dark curls and a droopy hat? He had seemed younger than Hagen — though age was a difficult trait to judge among nisse, she decided. Just how old was Gammel, the grayest of the nisse?
Even though she had a million questions swirling around in her head, Bettina couldn’t for the life of her form one in her mouth.
“Come, everyone,” said Pernilla. “Let’s have cider.”
Immediately, two nisse toddlers, one boy and one girl, appeared from behind Pernilla. They took Bettina by the hand and led her to a finely crafted oak table. Twins, she thought, just as the book had said. They each sucked on a pacifier, one pink and one green. The children remained at her side, gazing at her, pacifiers bobbing as they sucked.
“Meet Tika and Erik,” Pernilla said as she busied herself at the stove, which was a grand piece of workmanship made of iron and painted green with an intricate heart-and-scroll design. “Please, dear,” Pernilla said. “Sit.”
Bettina sat at the beautifully carved table, her mind slowly registering what it was, exactly, that she was sitting on: an overturned walnut shell! She’d been too stunned to realize it earlier, but now it hit her like a fat acorn dropped from high above. If she was able to sit, feet dangling, on the top of a walnut shell, if she was able to look eye to eye with the old nisse she’d met outside, then something unbelievable — something magical — must have happened to her on her way in.
Gazing around the room in awe, Bettina noticed other familiar items being used quite imaginatively. In the corner near the fireplace, neat piles of dried leaves sat in an old bird’s nest, ready to be used as kindling. Twigs were stacked for firewood. Fireflies perched in small glass globes filled the room with soft yellow light.
Gammel and Hagen joined Bettina. Pernilla carried four cups of steaming cider over to the table. Taking a seat, she whispered something to the nisse children, who detached themselves from Bettina’s side and tottered to a rug made of thick green moss to play.
“Please, drink,” Pernilla urged.
Staring into the caramel-colored cider in her cup, Bettina realized that the cup itself was a hazelnut shell. She drank, and the warm sweet-tart liquid on the back of her throat felt as good as it tasted.
She observed Tika and Erik as they took two large round acorns from a woven-grass basket and began to spin them on their pointy ends, like tops. Surely the acorns had been gathered from the ground beneath the big gnarled oak tree that Bettina had visited so many times. These were the same acorns that she had been able to carry by the handfuls, but here in the nisse realm, they were as big as softballs! Tika and Erik giggled as their spinning acorns slowed and then toppled sideways. Pia would love these young nisse and their toys! But Pia was nowhere to be seen.
Bettina didn’t wish to be rude, but she hadn’t come to socialize.
“You said Pia wasn’t here,” she began.
Gammel nodded in agreement. “I did.”
“But you said she should be. Why?”
Pernilla sighed. Hagen cleared his throat and took a long drink from his nutshell cup.
Finally, Gammel spoke.
“Well, Klakke brought her to us earlier today. Do you know him?”
“Klakke?” Bettina had never heard the name before, but she suspected she’d seen this nisse man. “Is that who I followed here?”
“Yes, indeed. Klakke has been with your family for twelve years,” Gammel explained.
“With my family? He lives with us?”
“In your barn. He cares for your family and your animals.”
“Twelve years,” Bettina repeated. “Why, he’s been there since . . .”
“Since you were born,” Gammel said, finishing her sentence. “He’s done well for your family, that Klakke. We’re quite proud of him.”
“Oh,” said Bettina. She had to ask. “And my family? Have we done well by Klakke?”
Gammel smiled. “Of course you have.”
“But —” Bettina protested, remembering that just days before they hadn’t remembered to be kind to their nisse. Their Klakke.
As if he knew exactly what she was going to say, Gammel held up a stubby finger to stop her.
“Klakke is young. He didn’t take the time to learn the facts about your mormor’s fall. If he had, he wouldn’t have been so unhappy about the rice pudding.”
“You mean the lack of rice pudding.” Bettina sighed, wondering how Gammel knew about Mormor’s broken hip.
Gammel nodded.
“Is that why he took Pia?” Bettina asked, as another sip of warm cider slid down her throat.
“No,” Gammel answered slowly. “No, Klakke took your sister because he was curious. A bit foolish, too, I might add. But he did the right thing in the end. He brought her to me.”
“But she’s not here?” Bettina heard herself ask, confused.
“No, I’m sorry to say she is gone again. And this time, I’m afraid, it wasn’t Klakke who took her away.”
By now Bettina was having a hard time following the conversation. Pia was here; Pia wasn’t here? Things weren’t getting any better.
“Someone else took Pia? Who? Do you know?”
Gammel nodded.
“Yes, I believe I do. But don’t you worry, dear girl. Old Gammel knows how to take care of this.”
Bettina was about to ask Gammel whom he suspected took Pia when Hagen stood.
“Please excuse me,” he said, finishing the last sip of cider from his cup, “but I must leave. There’s much work to do outdoors now that night has set in.”
Hagen removed his red cap and bowed his head to Bettina.
“It’s an honor to have met you, Miss Larsen.”
Then Hagen kissed Pernilla and was gone.
“I’m too old to go out and work.” Gammel winked. “I do my best work by the fire these days.”
“How old are you?” Bettina blurted, and immediately regretted how rude she sounded.
Gammel didn’t bat an eye at the question of his age.
“Three hundred ninety-two.”
Bettina’s eyes grew round. “Years?”
Gammel’s gray mustache turned upward with his grin.
“Years, indeed.”
Was this possible? She tried to remember if the book had said anything about the life span of nisse, but she drew a blank. Bettina turned to Pernilla, who nodded.
“Oh” was all she said. Could they hear the doubt in her voice?
“It is hard for you to believe,” Gammel said knowingly. “It is old in nisse time, but it is ancient to the human way of think
ing.”
Tika and Erik, tired of spinning acorns, toddled over to the table. Bettina noticed the tiny pacifiers had nearly disappeared, dissolved like sugar. Were they candy pacifiers? Human babies would lose their teeth if they sucked on candy all day — and just think how long a nisse has to keep his teeth! But every nisse she’d met so far had a beautiful smile.
Pernilla had been following Bettina’s gaze.
“We make them ourselves.” Pernilla blushed. “From sugar beet syrup. We use the discarded beets left behind by the farmers in the fall.”
Amazing! thought Bettina. The nisse world was so full of surprises, she was sure she wouldn’t know about all of them even if she stayed a hundred years! But she had no intention of staying at all.
Bettina turned back to Gammel and the business of finding her sister.
“Hagen said it’s dark now. I have to leave.”
“Well, you’re correct on one of two accounts.” Gammel nodded. “It is dark outside now. Our day is just beginning, while yours is near its end. But there’s no reason for you to leave. You must be exhausted.”
“No,” Bettina objected without thinking. “There are barn chores to be done at my home. And my sister — can you tell me where I can find her?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know exactly. But I’ll be working on finding out while you sleep.”
Sleep? How could she possibly be tired? But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she was tired. Her body ached from a day spent in the cold, damp forest, and her mind struggled to keep up with each event that was taking place.
Pernilla and Gammel shared a knowing smile and a nod. But it was Gammel who spoke.
“Besides,” he told her, “your barn work is done for the night. I have sent Klakke to care for the animals for you.”
Bettina heard Gammel, but his voice seemed to be coming from far away, and keeping her eyes open was becoming more and more of a challenge.
Winterfrost Page 5
