Winterfrost

by Michelle Houts

  Bettina turned her eyes to the sky above. Gray winter clouds hid the sun, and a lone bird flew overhead. Just a bird, she thought. A bird that appeared to have caught a mouse in his beak. Bettina squinted. When did mice start wearing red hats?

  “Klakke!” she cried. But before his name was even out of her mouth, the bird and its prey had disappeared over the trees. Klakke was gone.

  Bettina hadn’t dreamed she’d be back at the gnarled oak tree so soon, but there she stood, not at all sure how to get the attention of the nisse inside. Should she reach her hand under the root and knock? Or just open the door?

  With thoughts of Klakke hanging helplessly from the beak of a seagull, Bettina got down on her belly and reached for the handle. She closed her eyes, held her breath, and pushed down. A familiar pull tugged at her hand, her arm, then whoosh! Bettina found herself standing in the kitchen of the tiny house under the oak. She was indeed small again.

  Bettina had expected the whole nisse family to be standing before her, but the kitchen was empty and the house was silent. A faint glow from a small red ember in the fireplace cast the only light in the room. There was no sign of the fireflies; their glass globes sat empty. It appeared that no one was home. Bettina’s heart sank. What would she do now? She’d lost her sister and Klakke, too. She was counting on Gammel to know how to help.

  In the corner near the fireplace, something stirred. Bettina took a cautious step closer and saw an enormous gray mouse asleep on a bed of moss on the hearth. The mouse rolled over and stretched. His scratchy toes reached as far as they could, his mouth opened in a great sleepy yawn, and then his whole body relaxed before he opened one eye. When the large rodent caught sight of Bettina, he leaped from his bed.

  Bettina jumped back. Normally she wasn’t afraid of mice, but given her new size, this field mouse was intimidating. Much to her relief, the animal made no move in her direction. Instead, he opened his mouth and squealed. Loudly.

  “Squeeeee, squeeeee!”

  And again. “Squeeeee!”

  Bettina stared. What should she do? Was he talking to her? Yelling at her? In the tiny kitchen of the nisse house, the mouse’s squeak echoed like a fire alarm. And Bettina soon realized that an alarm was exactly what the little mouse intended to be.

  Cupboard doors opened in all directions. Bewildered nisse stepped from their sleeping quarters. Alcoves, Bettina remembered Pernilla had called them. Of course, Bettina had arrived in the middle of the nisse night.

  First out was Hagen, followed by a yawning Pernilla from the same alcove. From another door, Gammel emerged with a look of grave concern. When he saw Bettina standing before him, he turned to the mouse by the hearth and placed a finger to his lips.

  “Shh,” he said calmly, and the gray mouse immediately ceased his squealing. “Thank you, Erling. You’ve done a good thing.”

  Quite pleased with himself, the rodent gave Bettina a satisfied nod. He circled the mossy green mat once, twice, and then settled comfortably back in place and closed his eyes. Bettina was amazed.

  Finally, Gammel spoke.

  “Bettina, my dear, something serious has happened.”

  It wasn’t the first time Bettina had found it hard to determine if Gammel was asking a question or conveying a fact. But then she remembered that the old nisse had a way of seeming to know things even before they were told to him.

  “Yes, I saw Klakke just now, and —”

  Bettina hesitated. How could she tell them that their beloved Klakke was gone? They all looked at her so patiently while she fumbled for the right words.

  “. . . and he . . . he has been carried away by a large bird!”

  There was silence as the nisse shared glances with one another that Bettina found difficult to interpret. Finally, Pernilla began to laugh.

  “Again?” she sputtered.

  Hearty laughter burst from deep within Hagen’s round belly. Even Gammel chuckled and stroked his long, gray beard.

  “It’s the third time this week,” he explained.

  Bettina sighed. “So Klakke’s OK? He’s not in any danger?”

  “Oh, no, my dear,” Pernilla assured her.

  From their cradles in the corner, two small heads lifted to see what was going on. How the twins had slept through all the commotion made by the mouse alarm, Bettina would never know!

  “I’m sorry,” Bettina apologized. She was beginning to wish she’d never come. “I woke the entire household and for nothing.”

  “Don’t be silly, sweetheart,” Pernilla said. Then she turned to her husband. “Hagen, would you please tend to the little ones? Perhaps a pacifier would quiet them. Take lemon for Erik, and Tika adores mint. I’ll put on some water for a bit of ginger-root tea.”

  Hagen turned his attention to the twins while Gammel relit the fire. Erling, the watch mouse, snored softly in the corner.

  “Sit with me, Bettina,” Gammel instructed.

  They sat in two chairs made of willow twigs, bent to form perfect seats and rockers, and tied together with foxtail stems. Bettina found her chair quite comfortable.

  “Tell me more,” Gammel said, “about where you saw the hawk lift Klakke into the air.”

  “It was just over in the grassy clearing not far from here,” Bettina explained. “Except it wasn’t a hawk. It was a seagull.”

  Gammel’s thick gray eyebrows furrowed. Bettina had seen that look of concern before.

  “A seagull, you say?”

  “Yes,” said Bettina. “Is that bad?”

  “Well . . .” Gammel stroked his beard and tapped one stubby index finger against the side of his round face. “This changes things a bit.”

  “They were already high in the sky when I saw them, but I’m sure it was Klakke. It sounded like he was calling your name, perhaps.”

  “Hmm” was all the thoughtful old nisse said for a long while. And then, “Which way did they fly?”

  “North,” Bettina answered without hesitation. Years of walking the woods with Far had instilled in her an excellent sense of direction.

  That one word seemed to be all Gammel needed to make up his mind.

  “You’re going on a journey, my dear.”

  Bettina was startled. “Me?”

  “Yes, and it is a journey you must take alone.”

  It wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. “Am I looking for Klakke?”

  “I believe you will find Klakke,” the old nisse told her with such confidence that she believed it, too.

  “And Pia? Will I find Pia?”

  “Where Klakke has gone, Pia has also gone.”

  Bettina stared into the fire, which had come back to life. Its chaotic flames danced with no rhythm or direction. Like the thoughts in her head. Wasn’t it crazy for Gammel to send her off on a wild-goose chase? But what were her choices, really? She had to find Pia. And Gammel was counting on her to find Klakke, too.

  “Pernilla will prepare a small pack for your journey. And then you must be on your way,” Gammel told her. “But, first, there are some things you must understand, Bettina. We nisse are a peaceable and private lot. A woodland nisse, such as myself, is at one with the trees and animals of the forest. Barn nisse, such as Klakke, care for the livestock and the family who live nearby. There can even be an occasional house nisse, living in the home of a human, but most of us are a bit too private to share our living space with humans.”

  Bettina marveled at Gammel’s last remark. He had allowed her into his living space, and she felt honored.

  “The nisse’s relationship with others is rarely complicated. We respect and care deeply for all living things,” Gammel continued. “With that said, I will admit that occasionally a rift occurs between two or more of our members. One nisse in particular, a nisse who once lived close by, had a falling out with the rest of us a few years ago. So serious were his actions and the resulting consequences that he left Lolland. His name is Ulf.”

  An uninvited chill seemed to have entered the room. Even the fire’
s warmth couldn’t hold back the shudder Bettina felt grab her shoulders. She remembered what she’d read about wayward nisse; could Ulf be dangerous? She was so wrapped up in listening to Gammel’s story, she nearly forgot she had a part in it.

  “And now,” Gammel concluded rather abruptly, “you must find Ulf.”

  The little kitchen under the enormous oak was so quiet, Bettina could hear the watch mouse softly snoring.

  “But why me?”

  “You are a Larsen, are you not?”

  “Yes, but —”

  “Ulf’s mistakes affected the Larsen family more than anyone else. Heaven knows, I have tried for many years to set things right with Ulf. Just yesterday I sent Hagen to speak on our behalf, but Ulf sent him away. But not before Hagen saw evidence of your Pia. She’s there with Ulf, Bettina, just as I had suspected. And only you can set things right again. Perhaps Ulf will return your sister to you if he knows he has the forgiveness of the family he disappointed.”

  “Won’t you come with me?” she nearly whispered.

  “I’m sorry to say that due to past circumstances, my presence would not help your situation,” Gammel answered.

  There was a sadness in his voice that tugged at Bettina’s heart and filled her head with even more questions. A small knot began to form in Bettina’s throat. She felt as if she’d swallowed a hazelnut whole. What did Ulf do to the Larsens? When? Bettina thought it best to ask the most important question first.

  “Is Pia — is she safe?”

  Gammel peered over the top of his glasses. “I cannot lie to you, Bettina. I do not know Ulf’s motives, and his behavior has been unpredictable in the past.”

  Bettina’s heart sank. But Gammel continued. “I do believe, however, that Ulf’s grudge is with those of us in the nisse world. He was always quite fond of the Larsen family.”

  A slow sigh of relief slipped from Bettina’s lips. It wasn’t much, but she’d take what little hope was offered. Now for the more practical questions.

  “Where will I find this Ulf ? How . . . how will I get there? And what am I supposed to do once I find him?”

  “Everything will become clear to you in due time.”

  Despite her apprehension, despite her worries, something about Gammel’s demeanor calmed her and gave her confidence. He believed in her, and that seemed to be enough to get her started. The next thing she knew, they were on their feet and Pernilla was hugging her.

  “Turn,” Pernilla instructed. Bettina obeyed and Pernilla placed a small backpack on her back.

  Gammel took Bettina by the hand and led her to the door.

  “But my size . . . How will I . . . ?” she started to ask, but Gammel interrupted her.

  “Your size will always work to your advantage,” he assured her. Then he placed her hand on the door handle, and she was whooshed from the comfortable kitchen to the frosty forest beneath the giant gnarled oak.

  Bettina stood a moment and stared at the forest that surrounded her. It was familiar, yet different somehow. The giant oak seemed to have somehow grown even taller. And the leaves under her feet were as large as dinner plates. It wasn’t until Bettina spotted an acorn the size of a boulder that she realized it had happened again!

  Instantly, she turned to reach for the door, but she couldn’t find the root.

  “Gammel!” she called. “Gammel, I thought I would be big! How will I ever get out of the woods if I’m the size of a sapling?”

  Bettina circled the oak twice looking for the root that hid the small door, but she could not find it. This would never work.

  Your size will always work to your advantage.

  They were the last words Gammel had spoken to her. Being tiny out here in the big world didn’t feel like an advantage at all, but Bettina trusted Gammel.

  She found a small rock and climbed on top of it to get a better look around. There must be a reason for her smallness. But how on earth would she get to Ulf ? Walk? It could take days. Or weeks. And she didn’t even know where to go.

  A sharp snap in the frosty undergrowth of the forest to her right startled her. Behind a tree, a large white goose like the ones in the Pedersens’ barnyard appeared. Normally, Bettina didn’t mind geese, except for the Pedersens’ gander, which at certain times of the year became very protective of the geese and was prone to charge at anyone who came too close. This was no gander, but Bettina still felt wary. She could easily be flattened by one of those webbed feet.

  The white goose meandered through the trees. As she moved closer, Bettina recognized the old goose. She was one of the Pedersens’. Bettina was sure the mother goose was lost, as she’d never seen a farm goose so far from a barnyard. Wild geese, yes. The Pedersens’ geese? Never.

  “Shoo!” Bettina shouted, surprised at the big sound coming from her small mouth. At least her voice hadn’t shrunk with the rest of her. “Go home!”

  She had hoped that her loud command would startle the wayward goose back in the direction of the Pedersens’, but she only came closer. Could she even see Bettina, given how small Bettina was?

  “HONK!” The goose’s enormous golden beak barked directly at Bettina. No doubt. She could see her just fine.

  Bettina slid from her rock perch and scampered quickly around the back of the giant oak. On the other side, she held her breath and waited. Out of sight, out of mind, she thought.

  “HONK!”

  Bettina’s heart nearly stopped. One of the goose’s enormously round black eyes was staring her in the face.

  “HONK!”

  “Stop that!” Bettina scolded, momentarily forgetting that the animal was at least nine times her size.

  The Pedersens’ goose continued to honk at Bettina. And Bettina continued to tell the goose to go home. But the goose didn’t budge. She came closer and closer, honking incessantly but not angrily. It was as if there was something she wanted Bettina to know. Or do.

  “What do you want?” Bettina threw her hands in the air. “I don’t have time for games. I’m supposed to go somewhere, and I haven’t got a clue where or even how I’m going to get there!”

  Her outburst stopped the goose’s squawking. Very quietly, very deliberately, the white goose stepped right up to the tiny girl. She bent her long, sleek neck down and placed her head on the ground at Bettina’s feet. And she waited.

  “What are you doing now?”

  Bettina was exasperated. But the Pedersens’ mother goose had also run out of patience. With her large round beak she snatched Bettina’s backpack, taking Bettina right along with it.

  “What . . . HELP!” Bettina screamed.

  How would she ever find Pia and Klakke if the old white goose ate her for lunch?

  But instead of swallowing her, the goose stretched her long neck around and gently placed Bettina on her back. And then she took off running!

  Still a bit dazed, Bettina threw her arms around the goose’s neck and squeezed.

  Sensing her passenger was now holding on tight, the mother goose stretched her long white wings and leaped forward. With strong, steady beats, the goose pushed higher and higher until they were soaring far above the forest, high above the barren sugar beet fields, and heading north.

  North toward Klakke. North toward Pia.

  Lolland’s winter landscape became a blur beneath Bettina as she and the Pedersens’ goose soared into the clouds. At first, Bettina held on to the goose’s neck with a grip so tight, she feared the goose might stop breathing midflight. But as the bird’s powerful wings settled into a steady rhythm of up, down, up, down, Bettina’s heart stopped racing and her own breathing fell into perfect time with the flapping. Only then did she loosen her grip and relax.

  The white goose seemed to know exactly where she was going. When Bettina gathered enough courage to look over one side, she saw houses and barns that looked like toys, and fields and farms that were laid out in squares as if someone had thrown a patchwork quilt of whites and grays over all of Lolland. She tried to look for landmarks that w
ould tell her where she was, but quickly discovered that looking down while flying didn’t agree with her stomach. She drew in a long, deep breath and kept her eyes on the clouds ahead.

  Time stood still. Had she been flying an hour? A day? Or only a few minutes? She risked another quick peek down. No more winterfrost. They had left behind a winter wonderland and entered a dismal gray landscape. The sun, just as in the days before, was nowhere to be seen.

  Timelessness offered Bettina plenty of opportunity to think. What would this angry nisse Ulf be like? Bettina imagined she might have to bargain for Pia’s return, but what did she have to bargain with? She came with only the backpack Pernilla had provided. Back at home, the Larsens had very little that others didn’t have. There were some of the latest electronic gadgets, computers, and such, but Bettina had a hard time imagining that these would be of much use to a nisse.

  The Larsens owned a few antiques, passed down from Farfar’s family. One treasured heirloom was a shiny gold pocket watch that had belonged to Farfar’s grandfather. Perhaps a nisse was like a leprechaun, taking interest in objects of value, like gold. But the book hadn’t mentioned such a trait, and having met Gammel, Pernilla, and Hagen and having been in their home, Bettina was doubtful that gold would appeal to any nisse. Even a wayward nisse.

  Up ahead, the empty beet and hay fields and forests became fewer, and small clusters of buildings appeared. Bettina took a deep breath and looked straight down. Below her, she spied a church steeple and a grain elevator. They were flying over a town. Buildings were packed tightly along curving streets that led right up to what looked like water. Bettina sat up straight and strained to see past the goose’s neck. Sure enough, on the horizon Bettina spotted boats. Lots of boats of all sizes as well as ships crawling into the harbor. Bettina knew where they were. But the goose showed no signs of descending. They wouldn’t be landing in this familiar coastal town. Bettina and the goose were flying directly for the sea.

  Many hours seemed to pass with nothing but steel-gray clouds above and a matching sea below. Bettina’s eyes grew heavy, but she was afraid to sleep for fear she’d loosen her hold on the goose’s neck and tumble from the sky. Far down in the sea, she could see the Askø ferry, and she had a hunch they were following it to the small island north of Lolland. It made sense that anyone trying to avoid people would hide out on Askø, especially in the wintertime. In the summer, the island was popular with tourists packed into summerhouses. But in the winter, Askø was nearly deserted.