Winterfrost by Michelle Houts Page A

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 would tell her where she was, but quickly discovered that looking down while flying didn’t agree