Winterfrost (17 page)

She hesitated. Why would she be out in the forest at dusk? She should be home making dinner. Of course, that was it!

“While I gathered winter greens for a salad. Do you know that fabulous winter greens are hidden beneath the snow, even in December? Why, there’s chickweed, white nettle, cow parsley,” she quoted from memory, proud of herself for remembering Hagen’s every word.

“Well, I’m impressed.” Mr. Pedersen nodded, though he looked at Bettina’s empty hands a little suspiciously.

“I, um . . .” Bettina stammered. “I haven’t had any luck yet.”

Mr. Pedersen nodded. “I’m going to get on home. Mrs. Pedersen was cooking beef with onions when I left the house, and, oh my, did it smell fine!”

His face brightened with an idea. “Say, why don’t you and Pia come over for dinner this evening? I’m sure Lisa’s got plenty for all of us.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Pedersen. It’s so kind of you to ask.”

Bettina could feel her heart pounding beneath her winter coat. Her scarf suddenly felt hot and itchy on her neck.

“I’ve actually got soup on the stove. I couldn’t let it go to waste. And I really must get back to Pia now, before she wakes and finds herself alone. Good-bye, Mr. Pedersen. And thank you again for the invitation.”

Bettina was already moving down the path away from her neighbor, talking as she did.

Mr. Pedersen turned to go. A few more steps and she would have been out of sight, but it seemed he had one more question for her.

“Bettina?”

She slowed. “Yes, sir?”

“You sure everything’s OK at your place?”

Bettina turned and flashed the biggest smile. “Oh, yes. Good as can be.” It wasn’t really a lie, given the circumstances. “I’d best get home now. To Pia. And the soup. Tell Mrs. Pedersen I said hello!”

Before her neighbor could respond, Bettina dashed toward her house. She waited until Mr. Pedersen was out of sight before she doubled back and headed straight for the giant oak. Klara was nowhere to be seen, and Bettina was afraid to call out to her. Mr. Pedersen might still be in the woods and hear.

The sky had turned from dusky to a deep charcoal gray, and Bettina worried that she wouldn’t be able to find the door under the root. But, sure enough, when she lay flat on her belly and moved the leaves aside, just enough light remained to find the little door. She lifted the knocker and let it fall.

There was a long silence. Bettina was deciding if she should knock again when the door opened and Gammel stepped outside. He was in his nightclothes and nightcap and held a rather large firefly, whose light filled the small space beneath the root outside the door with an intermittent golden glow.

“Bettina, my dear. I was hoping you’d stop in tonight. We were just rising for the evening.”

The old nisse craned his neck and lifted his light to see behind Bettina. “Alone, are you?”

Bettina nodded. Had he expected to see Pia with her? Or someone else? She would have mentioned Klara, but perhaps Klara wouldn’t want Gammel to know what she’d been up to. Where was the little nisse girl, anyway? Bettina had a feeling she wasn’t far away.

“Well, then, do come inside and tell me of your journey.”

Whooshing in and out of the nisse’s world was becoming so common to Bettina, she hardly thought twice about it, but this time she declined.

“If you don’t mind, could we talk out here?” Bettina knew if she went inside, she’d surely be offered a cup of Pernilla’s sweet hot cider, and not long after, they’d offer a downy alcove and she’d be there until morning.

“Of course,” Gammel agreed, pulling the door closed behind him. “Tell me. Did you find your sister and our Klakke with Ulf ?”

“I did.” Bettina told him all about their meeting in the wooded cottage on Askø. Gammel seemed genuinely pleased to hear of Klakke’s and Pia’s safety, and he thanked Bettina for her part in Klakke’s rescue from the tree. When she finished, there was a long pause. Gammel seemed lost in thought, and then he asked about Ulf.

Bettina didn’t waste any time getting straight to the point. “Your son wants to come home.”

“I see” was all he said.

Bettina went on. She explained Ulf’s sadness over the loss of Kasper and how he hadn’t meant to do anything wrong. She pleaded Ulf’s case with passion, trying to convince Gammel that Ulf should come back. As she did, she realized she really did believe that he deserved a second chance.

Gammel stood very still while Bettina talked. In his long white gown and cap, he looked every bit of his 392 years. The firefly’s light illuminated his face and highlighted the lines each smile and worry had left behind. Maybe Ulf was right. Maybe time was running out for this father and his son to reconcile their differences.

“I’ve forgiven Ulf for taking Pia from this tree,” she said. “Just as I’ve forgiven Klakke for taking her from the patio. My farfar was a wonderful man —”

Gammel nodded. “I can attest to that.”

“— and he taught me many things, but, most of all, he taught me kindness. He would have forgiven Ulf for his part in what happened to poor Kasper. If he had known, he would have. I know it.”

Gammel listened carefully to all Bettina had to say. When she was finished, she was sure she had won the old nisse’s heart for his son. But when he spoke, her own heart nearly broke in two.

“I’m sorry, dear girl,” Gammel said, his voice soft and apologetic, “but it is not your responsibility to come pleading on my son’s behalf. Ulf should have returned your sister to you and come to me himself, to make amends. The greatest good comes when each takes responsibility for his own mistakes.”

“Yes, I know, but —”

Gammel raised a hand to shush Bettina. “You’ve done what I asked of you, and you’ve done what Ulf asked of you. I’m sure he’ll have no issue with returning Pia to you now. If you need my help returning to Askø in the morning, just let me know.”

And with that, Gammel went inside and was gone.

By now the forest was completely dark. Bettina stood and looked toward home, frustrated and cold. How could Gammel be so stubborn? His remorseful son was ready to make amends, to end a twelve-year misunderstanding. Why couldn’t he just accept Ulf’s apology — even if it did come from a human?
He
was supposed to be the wise one, but Bettina felt sure she was the only one thinking rationally.

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Gammel was right about one thing: it was too late to return to Askø now. The night was black, and there didn’t seem to be a goose or gull waiting to take her anywhere — not that one could while she was still human size, she reminded herself.

Bettina didn’t need light to find her way now that she was back on familiar ground. She knew every tree, every bend in the path between the giant oak and home. She was just steps from the backyard when she began to feel as if she was no longer alone. She smiled to herself and continued walking. She listened most astutely to every crackle of twigs under her boots, every rustle of dead leaves as her coat sleeve brushed by bushes along the path, trying to detect any sounds from the nisse world. Then she stopped quickly, her body as frozen as the December air.

Swish, swish, swish.

“Klara?” Bettina called.

Silence.

“Klara, I heard you running,” she said.

Then
swish, swish.
And a giggle.

The little nisse appeared.

“Oh, I was trying to stay hidden!” Klara’s cheeks were pink — because of the night air or because of being spotted, Bettina wasn’t sure. Red faced or not, she was a delightful sight to Bettina’s weary eyes.

“So, how did it go? With Gammel?” Klara asked.

“You weren’t there? I thought maybe you were lurking nearby.”

“Nope. I had things to do. So? How’d it go?”

“Not so well,” Bettina said. She filled Klara in on her conversation with Gammel as they followed the path through the woods that led to the Larsens’ back garden. “I’m going to have to convince Ulf to come face his father himself,” she concluded. “And I have no idea how.”

“You’ll think of something, Bettina. A good night’s sleep in your own bed will do you good.”

At the edge of the garden, Bettina stopped. “I can’t sleep. There are chores to be done.”

Klara giggled with excitement.

“Done!”

“Surely the fire must have gone out.”

“Done!”

“Really?”

Klara skipped gleefully. “Done, done, done!” she chanted. “Klara has the speediest feet in all of Denmark!”

Bettina laughed. “And I am very grateful for it!”

In the kitchen window a welcoming light glowed, and in the barn the haymow light seeped through the crack in the big red doors.

“Won’t you come inside with me?” Bettina offered, but Klara was already halfway to the barn.

“No,” she answered. “I should like to be a house nisse someday, but tonight I’m taking care of my brother’s work. I’ll see you when I see you.”

Bettina waited until Klara had disappeared before she went into the warm house. As she showered and dressed for bed, she realized how much richer her life had become now that she believed in something Farfar had always known to be real.

But, oh, how empty was Bettina’s heart without her baby sister! And how devastated her parents would be if they returned and —

Some thoughts are best left in the unthought corners of our minds. Most of them begin with
What if . . .

Bettina fell asleep that night pushing all her
What if . . .
thoughts into the deepest corners she could find.

Bettina slept so well in her own bed, it surprised even her. She woke clear headed, and before she even left the warmth of her bed, she had formulated a plan. Well, most of a plan. There were a few small details to work out, but she hoped those would come to her in a timely manner.

When the sun crept up over the fjord, Bettina was dressed and ready to face the day. She knew that everything had to go right in order for the outcome to be perfect. The end of Far’s week in Skagen was quickly approaching, and Mor and Mormor could return from Århus at any time. Several obstacles remained that could prevent Bettina from having Pia home in time, and she just could not let that happen!

Unfortunately, Bettina would have to face one of those obstacles early in the day. How, exactly, would she return to Askø? In her human-size state, she was quite sure there was not a single bird in all of Denmark big enough to do the job. No, she would have to arrange her own transportation, and she knew what that meant. With a sigh she felt halfway to her toes, Bettina took the tea tin from under her bed and emptied it into her backpack.

She dressed and ate a bowl of oats and milk so quickly, she really didn’t taste them at all. Then she headed to the barn. Amazingly, the winterfrost still hung around, and Bettina couldn’t help feeling that anything was possible when the world looked so magical.

There was no sign of Klara in the barn, but the chores had been done and the tools all hung in their proper places. In the corner by the door stood the family’s bicycles, all of them unused since October. Bettina had to dust hers off a bit before opening the barn doors to wheel it out. No sooner was she out the door than she noticed the front tire. Flat as a pancake. Mor’s bike, too, she discovered with dismay, had one flat tire. Far’s bicycle was the only one in working condition, so she mounted it, her tiptoes barely touching the barn floor. Teetering precariously as she rode down the driveway, Bettina was finally on her way.

She knew the main roads would be free of snow, but the back roads might be a bit tricky. Sure enough, she ended up walking the bike more than riding it until she got to town. Then she pedaled furiously toward the fjord. It was early enough that she was able to glide past the closed shops without being noticed. She even managed to avoid the workers from the night shift leaving the sugar factory by ducking through an alley and out the long road toward the harbor.

Harbor traffic was sparse at such an hour, and Bettina was at the ferry and waiting, somewhat impatiently, ten minutes before the ferryman arrived for the day’s first crossing.

“In a hurry to get to Askø?” he questioned with a high-pitched cackle, then used his teeth to open a bottle of soda. Bettina was relieved that he didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he released the moorings and revved the engine of the green-and-white ferry boat.

“You’re my first customer,” he quipped. Bettina handed him the fifty-crown fare for one passenger with a bicycle. The ferryman nodded and smiled, and Bettina noticed one of his front teeth was missing.
Perhaps it’s unwise to open soda bottles with your teeth
, she thought.

Much to Bettina’s dismay, the ferryman waited five, ten, fifteen minutes for other passengers. When none came, he finally set the ferry in motion.

“Guess you’re not just my first customer, but my only customer,” he shouted over the roar of the engine as they shoved off toward Askø.

Bettina gave the man a polite smile but said nothing. Instead she leaned over the small ship’s rail, watching the water rush by. In the summertime, she would see pancake-size jellyfish pulse their way through the water, but not in December. In December the same cold gray-green sea churned past the ferry again and again and again.