Winterfrost (6 page)

“Oh no!” Bettina cried, remembering the Christmas Eve telephone call and the disorder that followed. In all of the holiday confusion, the Larsens had forgotten to set out the rice pudding for their nisse!

She read on:

Bettina thought of how she’d found the barn in utter chaos and of the goats’ feed.

Bettina shuddered. Had Pia fallen into the hands of a curious nisse? Or had she been taken by a more dangerous being?

She searched the book for any mention at all of a nisse taking off with a human baby but found nothing. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad one.

Bettina read into the night, forgetting that she hadn’t eaten any supper. She continued reading into the wee hours of the morning until she was unable to focus on the blurry pages of the book. And finally, with her head on the kitchen table, the exhausted girl slept — which was good. She’d need to be rested for the day ahead. She’d need more than just sleep, though, if she was to find the nisse and bring baby Pia home.

Bettina woke with the first sliver of sunlight in the kitchen window, her neck stiff and her stomach growling. Anxious to set out in search of Pia, she quickly made a bowl of oats and milk and stirred in a few raisins. When she was finished eating, her stomach was satisfied and she felt calmer and more confident than she had the night before. Pia was not far, she was certain.

She put together a small lunch pack of rye bread, liver pâté, and sliced cucumbers. She wrapped it tightly in foil and added a few cookies, not knowing how long she might be gone. Along with a bottle of water and a small flashlight, she placed the food into a backpack and headed out into the snow. Bettina was surprised to see the winterfrost had remained overnight. She had never known winterfrost could last more than a day.

First she headed for the barn; the animals would need to be cared for before she could set out to search for Pia. She tried to sneak inside quietly, just in case the nisse was about. If she could surprise him, she might get a glimpse of him. Or better yet, she might catch him! She hadn’t thought of what she would do if she actually caught a nisse. Perhaps she should have brought a box or some other container from the house. But the thought of a nisse trapped in a container of any sort sent a shudder right through her. Being trapped would surely make any nisse angry, wouldn’t it?

Despite her stealth, Bettina found no one to surprise but the animals. It was, in fact, Bettina who was surprised when she stood before the feed bunks, brimming with fresh rations. Once again the barn chores were done. The animals were all fed.

She turned her head toward the hayloft.

“Thank you,” she offered, hoping a sign of gratitude would please her helper. “Thank you.”

Bettina pushed open the big barn door to look outside. She already knew that she’d find no tire tracks or footprints in the barnyard. Still, she scratched her head. Why would a disgruntled nisse go to such lengths to do her work for her?

There was no point standing around wondering. It was time for Bettina to find some answers.

Anyone who might have happened by the Larsens’ garden on the December afternoon when Pia disappeared would have seen something so unlikely, so unbelievable, they’d have questioned their very sanity. It was a sight to behold, this little nisse carrying a baby more than twice his size. But, of course, no one did happen by the Larsens’ garden on that December afternoon. And by the time Bettina Larsen woke from her nap to discover the baby missing, Klakke was deep into the forest.

Right about the time that Bettina was dashing about the garden in a panic, Klakke was making a discovery of his own. Despite the fact that he was many times stronger than a human, the child he carried was becoming heavy. The real burden Klakke bore, however, was not the physical weight of the child in his arms. It was the fact that he had no plan. The realization that he had probably made a mistake wore heavy on him like an oversize winter coat.

Baby Pia didn’t seem at all alarmed. In fact, she seemed to rather enjoy the bouncy jaunt through the frosty forest. She giggled and reached for the soft white seedlings that sped by, knocking the winterfrost free from their branches and sending showers of frost to the ground below. Pia didn’t seem to know or care where she was headed.

Klakke knew. There was only one place he could go, short of going back to the Larsens’. And there was no turning back, of that Klakke was certain. He’d already taken risks no nisse should take. He’d risked being seen, and for all he knew, someone could have been watching from that big kitchen window. Returning to the Larsens’ home would just add to his ever-growing list of mistakes.

So onward he ran, toward the crooked oak, toward Gammel and the others. And toward certain judgment. What would Gammel say? And what would he do? What
could
he do, now that Klakke was in possession of a human child?

Klakke’s tiny brown boots finally stopped at the base of the largest oak tree in the forest. There he gently laid the baby in a bed of frost-covered leaves.

“I won’t be long, little one,” he said, his voice high and a bit crackly with nerves. “Don’t you be frightened, you hear me now?”

Baby Pia, seeing Klakke’s small face, laughed. It was a hearty laugh from deep within her belly. She recognized the little man who just that morning she had caught a glimpse of, perched atop a bale of hay high up in the mow, while Bettina fed the animals. Once again Pia was filled with joy at the sight of Klakke.

Klakke, like most nisse, had a round face with rosy cheeks that looked like two small apples. His dark eyes sparkled, and his pointed red hat flopped just a bit to one side. At sixty-two years old, his beard was fully grown, and it was as brown as the curls that peeked out from beneath his hat. He would be at least a hundred before his beard and hair would turn gray.

Pia fussed a little when her new friend disappeared from sight. Her distress only added to Klakke’s already-frazzled nerves.

“No, no. Don’t fret. Klakke will be back,” he said over his shoulder, and dove beneath a gnarled root at the base of the tree. Under the root, which stood only as high as the small nisse’s hat, was a small oak door. He lifted the iron knocker gingerly and let it fall with a soft tap.

There was a long silence. At last, a plump nisse woman in a long moss-colored skirt and an embroidered white blouse opened the door. Her tall green nisse cap didn’t droop like Klakke’s. Long, tight braids tied with green ribbons hung on either side of her kind face. Everything about her was neat and tidy. When she saw her visitor, her eyes widened with surprise.

“Klakke, my dear!” she exclaimed, and threw her small arms around him. “You knocked so quietly, I didn’t suspect it was you!” Klakke wasn’t known to be the quietest nisse in the forest.

“Hello, Pernilla.” Klakke shifted nervously, glancing over his shoulder to be sure baby Pia was safe.

The nisse woman took Klakke by the hand and pulled him inside. It had been a while since he’d been back to the house under the big oak. Klakke looked around and smiled. Nothing had changed. The wood-plank floor was neatly swept; the fire in the fireplace burned brightly, and Gammel sat before it, reading so intently he hadn’t heard the knock on the door.

“Is everything all right, dear?” Pernilla inquired of Klakke, her voice low. “It’s not quite dark, and you shouldn’t be out, you know.”

“Well, I, um,” Klakke stammered, and avoided looking Pernilla in the eye. “I guess I ought to speak with Gammel.”

Pernilla nodded, deep lines in her brow indicating her concern.

“Gammel, dear,” Pernilla called. “Look who has come home.”

Immediately she blushed, her rosy cheeks becoming even redder than before. Gammel would surely correct her, ever so gently. The old oak was not Klakke’s home. It never had been. Klakke’s home was with the Larsens. But Pernilla was so fond of her younger cousin that she hoped he’d consider the house beneath the oak tree his second home.

Gammel, a stout old nisse with a long beard that flowed like a river of gray over his broad chest and abundant stomach, looked up from his book without getting up. He peered over the top of a small pair of round wire-rimmed eyeglasses.

“Well, I see,” he declared, a wry smile curling up from both sides of his mouth. “Home he may be, but home he must go when he’s finished.”

At that, Gammel stood and strode slowly over to the young nisse. He, too, greeted Klakke with a hearty hug.

“Come,” said the old gentleman. “Come sit by the fire and tell me what is new with the Family Larsen.”

“Well, sir . . .” Klakke began, but he got no further. Two tiny nisse children burst in from an adjoining room.

“Klakke’s here! Klakke’s here!” they cried with glee, throwing themselves around his knees, dancing and cheering.

“Good day, Tika. Good day, Erik,” Klakke greeted the little ones.

Behind them another gray-bearded nisse man, older than Klakke but not nearly the age of Gammel, entered the room.

“Good day, Hagen.”

Hagen was a burly nisse, hardworking and strong. He greeted Klakke with a hearty hello and a handshake so firm, Klakke tried not to wince.

“It’s good to see you, my boy.” Hagen grinned and slapped the young nisse on the back.

“And you, too,” Klakke agreed, but instead of taking a step farther into the room, he turned nervously to look at the door behind him. Gammel, being the eldest and wisest, picked up quickly on Klakke’s behavior.

“Klakke?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you someone with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, then, who is it? Don’t be rude and leave our guest standing outside in the cold.”

Gammel took two quick strides toward the door, but Klakke stood in his way.

Gammel looked up in surprise.

“Klakke.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Look at me.” Gammel’s voice was stern.

Klakke obeyed and stared directly into the small black eyes of his elder. Gammel’s eyes narrowed in thoughtfulness and then widened in disbelief.

“A human child? Klakke!”

“Yes, sir.” Klakke broke eye contact with Gammel. He stared down at the neat wooden floor.

Pernilla and Hagen gasped in unison. Even the little ones became suddenly quiet. All eyes turned to Gammel, who didn’t hesitate a moment.

“You must bring the baby inside,” he declared. “Immediately.”

Klakke wasted no time following Gammel’s instructions. But when he emerged from beneath the big gnarled root, he was perplexed. There was no baby Pia. He was sure he’d left her right outside the house, at the base of the tree. Indeed, he could see the impression of her blankets in the frost-covered snow. He darted quickly around the oak, first in one direction, then in the other.

Klakke took off his cap and ran his plump fingers through his thick curls. Once more he studied the spot where he had left Pia. And once more all he saw was a small impression in the snow where the woven blanket containing the baby had been not long before.

Reluctantly, Klakke returned to the tiny house under the tree. This time he didn’t knock. Instead, he gingerly opened the small wooden door and stepped inside. Hagen, Pernilla, and the children were waiting, excited to meet the human child, but Gammel stood by the fire, one boot on the hearth, stroking his beard.

Pernilla was the first to ask.

“Klakke, where is the babe?”

Gammel kept his eyes fixed on the fireplace.

“She . . . she wasn’t there,” Klakke stammered. “She’s missing. I’m sorry, Gammel. I don’t know what happened.”