“Okay, Mom.”
“Have a nice vacation day, Hilde!”
“You have a good day too.”
When she heard her mother slam the front door, she slipped back into bed with
the ring binder.
“I’m going to dive down into the major’s unconscious. That’s where I’ll be until
we meet again.”
There, yes. Hilde started reading again. She could feel under her right index
finger that there were only a few pages left.
When Sophie left the major’s cabin, she could still see some of the
Disney figures at the water’s edge, but they seemed to dissolve as she
approached them. By the time she reached the boat they had all disappeared.
While she was rowing she made faces, and after she had pulled the boat
up into the reeds on the other side she waved her arms about. She was
working desperately to hold the major’s attention so that Alberto could sit un-
disturbed in the cabin.
She danced along the path, hopping and skipping. Then she tried
walking like a mechanical doll. To keep the major interested she began to sing
as well. At one point she stood still, pondering what Alberta’s plan could be.
Catching herself, she got such a bad conscience that she started to climb a
tree.
Sophie climbed as high as she could. When she was nearly at the top,
she realized she could not get down. She decided to wait a little before trying
again. But meanwhile she could not just stay quietly where she was. Then the
major would get tired of watching her and would begin to interest himself in
what Alberto was doing.
Sophie waved her arms, tried to crow like a rooster a couple of times,
and finally began to yodel. It was the first time in her fifteen-year-old life that
Sophie had yodeled.
All things considered, she was quite pleased with the result.
She tried once more to climb down but she was truly stuck. Suddenly a
huge goose landed on one of the branches Sophie was clinging to. Having
recently seen a whole swarm of Disney figures, Sophie was not in the least
surprised when the goose began to speak.
“My name is Morten,” said the goose. “Actually, I’m a tame goose, but on
this special occasion I have flown up from Lebanon with the wild geese. You
look as if you could use some help getting down from this tree.”
“You are much too small to help me,” said Sophie.
“You are jumping to conclusions, young lady. It is you who are too big.”
“It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”
“I would have you know I carried a peasant boy exactly your age all over
Sweden. His name was Nils Hol-gersson.”
“I am fifteen.”
“And Nils was fourteen. A year one way or the other makes no difference
to the freight.”
“How did you manage to lift him?”
“I gave him a little slap and he passed out. When he woke up, he was no
bigger than a thumb.”
“Perhaps you could give me a little slap too, because I can’t sit up here
forever. And I’m giving a philosophical garden party on Saturday.”