Winterfrost

by Michelle Houts

  “But what about Pia?” Bettina asked, her words nearly swallowed by an enormous yawn.

  Once more Gammel nodded.

  “Hagen is making the necessary inquiries as we speak. We will work together to bring her home. I promise.”

  If Bettina had heard and fully understood these last words, she would have found them quite comforting. But she hadn’t. Before Gammel finished talking, her head was on the table. She was fast asleep.

  Bettina woke the next morning in a cupboard. At least, that was the best way she could describe it.

  Sitting up, she took in her strange surroundings. She was in a bed, and a rather comfortable one at that. She stretched as she tried to wake her mind and body simultaneously. She felt rested and calm for the first time since —

  The previous day’s events, including Pia’s disappearance, rushed back to her, and if it hadn’t been for this strange little closet she found herself in, she might have doubted whether any of it had actually happened. She closed her eyes and willed away the panic that threatened the peaceful feeling she’d had when she awoke. Gammel had promised to reunite her with Pia. That was what she thought she’d heard as she’d drifted off to sleep, and Gammel didn’t seem like the type to make promises he couldn’t keep.

  Bettina turned her attention to her surroundings.

  The little room was no bigger than the bed itself, which took up every square inch of the floor. There was a wooden ceiling and four wooden walls. Three of the walls were bare honey-colored oak, but the fourth wall appeared to be made of two doors with wooden handles. She was still wearing the same clothing she’d had on the day before, but someone had removed her boots and replaced them with the warmest, fluffiest white socks she’d ever seen.

  Bettina reached out and opened one door slowly without even getting out of bed. Leaning forward, she peeked through the crack in the door. A familiar sense of disbelief washed over her as she observed the bustling kitchen of the nisse home.

  Pernilla was busy at the green enamel stove while Hagen poked at the fire with what appeared to be a piece of fence wire. The little ones were dressed in nightgowns, and they played with yarn dolls on the floor beside matching wooden cradles with an intricately carved T and E on each end. They laughed and babbled unrecognizable words in sweet, soft voices.

  Convinced once again that her memories of sipping cider in the kitchen of a nisse house just beneath the root of the giant oak tree were real, Bettina pushed the cupboard doors open all the way and swung her legs out of the bed and onto the kitchen floor.

  “Ah, our guest awakes!” Pernilla smiled, wiping her hands on the apron she wore over a long white nightgown. Her long hair was unbraided, tied with a simple ribbon in the back. Her green cap had been replaced with a white one.

  “How was your alcove? Did you get a good night’s sleep in it?” Pernilla swished across the kitchen as she spoke.

  Bettina thought sleeping in an alcove sounded much better than sleeping in a cupboard. Looking around, she realized that the entire wall was lined with doors exactly like the ones she had opened. There were sleeping alcoves for each of the nisse, and every door was beautifully carved with pictures of otters and chickadees and other woodland creatures.

  “I slept very well, thank you,” Bettina answered. “It was the finest bed I’ve ever slept in!” Pernilla’s rosy cheeks grew a shade rosier.

  “Come and eat some breakfast, dear. You’ll need your strength for the day ahead of you.”

  The tiny home was so cozy, so magical, that if it hadn’t been for Pia, Bettina wasn’t sure if she’d ever want to leave. But finding her sister was her first priority. She only needed her coat and boots, and she’d be on her way.

  On the floor just outside the alcove, she found her boots with her socks neatly folded and lying atop them.

  “They were wet from a day of tromping about in the forest,” Pernilla explained, yawning. “But I put them near the fire, and they’re dry now.”

  “Thank you.”

  Bettina started to remove the thick, white socks she’d been wearing in the night, but Pernilla stopped her.

  “You can keep those if you like. Klakke made them especially for you.”

  “He did?”

  Bettina looked at the socks again and realized they had been knitted from the softest down of a thousand thistles. She marveled at how the prickliest plant could produce the most delicate fiber.

  “He did. And he wants you to have them.”

  Bettina studied her tiny feet. Surely the socks wouldn’t fit her once she was back to her regular size. She would she return to normal, wouldn’t she?

  “Come along.” Pernilla motioned toward the table, where a fine spread of food awaited. “Help yourself,” she prodded. “I must get the children ready for bed.”

  Suddenly it occurred to Bettina: She was the only one getting up. Everyone else was preparing to go to sleep for the day.

  Everyone except Hagen, that was. He took a seat at the table.

  “I can eat any time of day,” he explained, patting the roundness beneath his belted coat. “You’ll join me, won’t you? It’s never much fun to dine alone.”

  Although she was anxious to be on her way, Bettina smiled gratefully at Hagen and sat. He was obviously eating breakfast before bed for her benefit, and, besides, she had to admit she was hungry.

  On her plate she found one fat fresh blueberry the size of a grapefruit. It could have been a meal in itself ! Where on earth had the nisse found such giant berries? she wondered. But then she caught herself; it wasn’t the berry that was big, but she who was small.

  Beside the blueberry sat two hazelnuts and an enormous mushroom. Hagen’s plate looked similar but with two mushrooms. Beside each plate was another smaller plate, brimming with fresh greens. How had the nisse folk found fresh leafy greens in the dead of winter? Surely they didn’t frequent the supermarket in town!

  “Lovely greens, aren’t they?” Hagen said. “Few humans seem to realize what fabulous winter greens are hiding beneath the snow, even in December. There’s chickweed, white nettle, cow parsley — even in the dead of winter. Of course, Gammel has quite a greenhouse set up beneath the next tree south, so we have a fresh supply of summer herbs all winter long. He grows dill and rosemary . . .”

  Hagen rambled on about Gammel’s greenhouse, but Bettina’s thoughts were stuck on a single word. Rosemary. The herb in the goats’ feed the day after Christmas! Had Klakke tainted the feed with Gammel’s rosemary? She had a lot of questions for this young nisse who was supposed to be her family’s guardian. And if she ever caught up with him, she would surely get some answers.

  Bettina and Hagen each had an acorn cup of hot tea. She took a sip and recognized it as chamomile. Following Hagen’s lead, she cut the blueberry in half with a silver knife, and she used both the knife and fork to cut up and eat the mushroom.

  At last, the conversation turned to Pia. Hagen spoke between bites.

  “We’ve spent most of the night discussing your situation,” he told Bettina, his voice serious and thoughtful. “And we’ve decided the best thing for you to do is to go home.”

  It wasn’t what Bettina expected to hear.

  “But how will I find Pia if I’m sitting at home?” she asked, putting down the fork and pushing her plate away. Suddenly she didn’t feel so hungry.

  “You must not look for her,” Hagen said. “The situation is a family matter. Gammel knows just how to deal with it.”

  “But I have to do something!” Bettina cried. “Mor will be home in . . .”

  What day was it? How long had she been in this little house under the tree? What once seemed very clear to Bettina now seemed lost in a blur of frost and leaves and roots and cider.

  “Where is Gammel?” she demanded. And then, realizing she sounded quite cross, she softened her tone. “I’d like to speak to him, please.”

  Pernilla returned to the table, having settled the twins in their matching cradles. Their eyelids droop
ed, but their heads popped up occasionally as if they didn’t want to miss anything the human girl said or did.

  “Don’t be upset, my dear. Gammel is doing everything in his power to find your sister,” Pernilla said gently.

  Bettina flushed with embarrassment. These kind folk had done nothing but try to help her since she stumbled upon them. She took a deep breath and continued her quest for answers.

  “But,” she addressed Hagen, “I thought Gammel said you were out making ‘necessary inquiries’ last night.”

  Hagen’s eyes lowered. “I found out that what we suspected is true.”

  “And that is?”

  “Complicated.” Hagen wasn’t providing the details Bettina had hoped for. She turned toward his wife.

  Pernilla sighed. “You see, you and your sister — thanks to our dear, impulsive Klakke — have found yourselves in the midst of a . . .”

  Pernilla fidgeted with her apron string. She was choosing her words cautiously.

  “. . . a dispute, let’s say. A long-standing disagreement.”

  Hagen coughed. Or cleared his throat. Whatever it was, it was clearly intended to tell Pernilla she’d said enough.

  “It’s best to leave this to Gammel, dear.”

  Bettina had about a million questions, but something about Pernilla’s voice and eyes, both assuring and kind, made Bettina feel at ease. She nodded. She would go home and wait. Gammel would sort everything out. The nisse seemed so sure of it. Then another thought occurred to her.

  “How . . . how will I . . . ?” Bettina stammered, gesturing toward the door.

  “You can leave the same way you arrived,” Hagen answered with a smile.

  “You should return to your normal size just as soon as you cross the threshold,” Pernilla added, anticipating Bettina’s next question.

  They said their good-byes quickly. Hagen shook Bettina’s hand and wished her luck. Pernilla hugged Bettina tight, and it felt for an instant like her own mother was holding her. She fought back a tear as she peered into the cradles where Tika and Erik had both given up and fallen asleep. When would Pia be home, sleeping safely in her own bed?

  Sure enough, as soon as Bettina’s hand pressed down on the door latch, she was pulled through the opening, standing once again in the snowy forest beside the big oak tree.

  But much to her surprise, she wasn’t back to her normal size.

  And she wasn’t alone.

  “Hello, Bettina.”

  It was Gammel who stood beside her in the heavily winterfrosted forest, a brown leather satchel in his left hand, and much to Bettina’s dismay, there was no sign of baby Pia with him.

  “Good morning, Gammel,” she answered, hoping her disappointment wasn’t too apparent. Fleetingly, she wondered if nisse call it morning when they are about to go to sleep.

  “I trust you had a good night’s sleep.”

  Bettina nodded.

  “And Hagen has filled you in on the plan as it stands at this time?”

  Again she nodded. “He said I should go home and wait. It seems no one is having any luck finding my sister.”

  “Oh, to the contrary, my dear,” the old nisse replied, his round eyes twinkling. “A nisse without luck would be a terrible thing.”

  “Do you know something more?” Bettina asked breathlessly.

  “I’ve learned that she’s not terribly far. But I’m waiting to know more before we make our next move.”

  “How long do you think that will take?” Bettina asked.

  “Patience, my dear. I know humans are accustomed to making everything happen at lightning speed, but you are now in our world, and here we take life at a little slower pace.”

  Gammel was right, she knew, but that didn’t make all the waiting any easier to accept. And why was she still small? Pernilla had said she’d return to her old self once she’d crossed the threshold. Bettina was about to ask Gammel when he issued an invitation — one that surely would require her to remain nisse size.

  “It’s almost time for the nisse world to sleep. First, I must make my rounds. Will you join me?”

  Bettina considered her options. Though she had not the faintest idea what Gammel meant by “rounds,” she wondered if by accompanying Gammel, she’d visit more of the forest, perhaps places she wouldn’t know to go to on her own. She could keep her eyes open for any signs of Pia. At this point, anything seemed better than Hagen’s suggestion that she head home and wait, alone and helpless. Bettina agreed to accompany Gammel.

  “Follow me,” he said, his small legs setting off in a purposeful stride.

  After walking only a short distance, Gammel stopped. Before them was a hole in the ground that would have seemed too small to notice under normal circumstances. But in her current state of tininess, Bettina thought it looked like a crater.

  “Jump!” Gammel cried just as he leaped into the hole.

  Was he crazy, this old nisse man? Crazy or not, he had disappeared down the hole. Bettina had no intention of following him blindly into the darkness below. That was, until two gigantic squirrels rounded the trunk of a nearby tree, one chasing the other in a downward spiral toward the ground — and headed right toward Bettina. As much as she tried to remind herself that they were not gigantic at all, and likely had no interest in her whatsoever, she couldn’t stop her heart from pounding as they approached.

  When the squirrels were so close that she could see their teeth, Bettina closed her eyes, held her nose, and leaped into the hole. (She had no idea why she held her nose — it just felt like something one should do when jumping in feetfirst.)

  Down, down, down. Bettina landed with a thud at the bottom of a dark tunnel and immediately wondered if she’d made an enormous mistake. She couldn’t see a thing! But within seconds, her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and she was able to make out shapes before her. One, with his round belly and pointed cap, was unmistakably Gammel, but the other? She leaned in closely and found herself nose to pointed nose with a mole.

  “Glad you joined us,” Gammel spoke. “I was just checking on my friend here.”

  He turned to the soft-looking black mole, whose right front foot was wrapped in white cloth.

  Gammel opened the leather satchel and dug around until he found a small tin.

  “How’s the digger?”

  Bettina heard nothing, but Gammel responded as if he’d heard the mole answer.

  “Ah, I see. Well, let’s keep it wrapped another day or two. I brought your dinner.”

  From the small tin, Gammel produced a fat earthworm.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” Gammel promised, and then, after a brief silence, added, “Thank you. I will certainly give your best to the family.”

  Back above ground, Gammel explained. “He cut it digging too near an old dump site. Probably on discarded glass or a tin can. He’s in the excavation business. Tunneling, you know. The moles are the first we call on when we start a new home underground.”

  Bettina could only nod, her voice snatched away by amazement and disbelief.

  Their next stops brought more opportunities to help the nisse’s forest friends. A trip to a mother rabbit’s warren meant another leap into underground darkness, but this one ended in a much softer landing of rabbit fur. Gammel left piles of winter greens for the nursing mother, who was afraid to leave her brood to search for nourishment for herself. “First-timer,” Gammel whispered to Bettina as they left. “She’ll relax in a month or so, when she has her next litter.”

  At the entrance to a hollow tree, Gammel asked for Bettina’s assistance emptying his bag of acorns, hazelnuts, and chestnuts. Bettina reached deep into the bag, passing each nut to Gammel, who stacked them neatly inside the tree until it could hold no more.

  “Silly squirrels,” he said, chuckling. “They hoard away nuts and such for the long winters only to forget where they’ve placed them. I like to help them out now and then.”

  Gammel closed his satchel and hoisted it back up onto one shoulder.
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  “Now where?” Bettina asked, fascinated by the journey. She’d lived next to this forest her entire life, but what she’d learned about its inhabitants in the past hour was far more than she’d ever imagined.

  Gammel’s frosty gray beard and mustache parted in a long, silent yawn. Of course. With every passing minute, more daylight seeped through the treetops, reminding Bettina that it was the end of a long day for Gammel. He was ready to return home and retire to his alcove.

  “Home for both of us,” Gammel replied. “Me to mine, you to yours.”

  The thought of returning to her empty house without Pia made Bettina’s heart sink.

  “What will I do there?”

  “You will wait. You must trust me, Bettina Larsen. Do you trust me?”

  Bettina nodded. She wanted to tell him that at this point she trusted him — and Pernilla and Hagen and even Klakke — more than just about anyone. But the knot in her throat told her not to trust her voice. She was certain if she tried to talk, she’d burst into tears.

  Instead, she nodded. At least Gammel hadn’t asked her to make any promises. She knew he believed she would go home and wait, but how could she? She’d go home, feed the animals, replenish her food supply, and then head out on her own to find Pia. As they parted ways, guilt tugged at Bettina’s stomach, but even the guilt wouldn’t keep her from looking for her sister.

  Gammel watched the human girl wend her way through the woods toward home. By the time she was out of sight, she would be returned to her normal size once again.

  It was true that Gammel hadn’t asked Bettina to promise to stay home and wait. How could he? A nisse, after all, would never ask someone to make a promise he knew she’d never keep.

  Klakke had been on his best behavior since baby Pia had disappeared from beneath the big oak tree. He knew it was all his fault. He also knew that while he only took Pia out of impulsive curiosity, the one who took her from him likely did so for other reasons. His name was Ulf, and his character was known throughout the nisse world. That Pia was likely in Ulf’s hands worried Klakke from the inside out.