CHAPTER 35

THE FIRST SWIM

“Good afternoon, you two!” said Loudwing as she waddled into the garden. “Remember me, Brightbill?”

“Loudwing! Loudwing!”

“Very good!” The old goose giggled. “Now, Roz, do you know what tomorrow is? Tomorrow is Swimming Day! The day when all the parents take their goslings out on the pond for the first time. And you simply must bring Brightbill.”

“Swim! Swim!” said the gosling, shaking his tail feathers.

“Brightbill can go,” said Roz, “but I cannot swim. I cannot go on the pond with him. I will not be able to protect him.”

“Who’d have thought a big thing like you would be afraid of a little water?” Loudwing laughed. “Well, don’t you worry about Brightbill; he’ll be safe in the flock. And he’s going to have so much fun swimming with the other goslings! We begin at sunrise, so don’t be late! See you in the morning!” And with that, the goose plopped into the water and glided away.

“Swim! Swim!” said the gosling.

“Yes, Brightbill,” said the robot, staring at the pond. “Swim, swim.”

Early the next morning, peeps and honks and splashes began echoing across the calm water. Roz and Brightbill followed a trail through the fog and over to a beach that was crawling with fluffy goslings and proud parents.

Roz took a few steps into the water, and her Survival Instincts immediately flared up. The robot’s computer brain knew that if water got inside her body, it could do serious damage. And so as the other parents began swimming across the pond, Roz stood safely in the shallows and watched.

Brightbill ran up and down the beach with the other goslings, peeping and laughing and pretending to be afraid of the tiny waves. When one wave finally pulled him in, he felt his body floating on top of the water. A big smile appeared on the gosling’s face. Clearly, Brightbill was designed to swim.

“Very good, Brightbill!” said Loudwing as she floated past. “You’re a natural!”

“Yes, Brightbill, you are a natural!” said Roz, trying to sound like a good mother.

Loudwing rounded up all the goslings and gave them a quick swimming lesson. “Remember, everyone, paddle your feet evenly to swim in a straight line. Paddle with your right foot to go left, and paddle with your left foot to go right. Try it out and join the rest of us when you’re ready. Happy Swimming Day!”

Loudwing and the other adult geese calmly glided toward the center of the pond. A jumble of goslings tried to keep up with them. The youngsters jostled and splashed and peeped with excitement, and gradually they paddled in the direction of their parents.

Only Brightbill lagged behind. “Mama swim?”

Roz pointed to the flock. “I cannot swim. Go have fun with the other geese. You will be safe with them.”

The gosling took a deep breath. Then he shook his tail feathers and paddled his feet and set out on his very first swim. He drifted too far to the left. Then he drifted too far to the right. But his feet just kept paddling until he caught up to the other goslings.

Roz spent the morning watching her son swim around and around the pond. And as she watched him, she felt something like gratitude. Thanks to Brightbill, the robot now had friends and shelter and help. Thanks to Brightbill, the robot had become better at surviving. In a way, Roz needed Brightbill as much as Brightbill needed Roz. Which was precisely why she felt such concern when the mood on the pond suddenly changed.

One moment everything was tranquil, and the next moment the geese were in a panic. Something was violently sloshing through the group. It was Rockmouth, the giant, toothy pike. The fish had been a problem in the pond for as long as anyone could remember, but he’d never attacked goslings before. All the parents immediately went to protect their young—all the parents except Roz. The robot could only stand in the shallows and watch as her son left the other geese behind and desperately swam toward his mother.

“Swim to me, Brightbill! Quickly!”

The gosling kicked as fast as he could. But alone on the water, he made an easy target. The pond rippled as Rockmouth slashed below the surface.

“Mama! Help!” squeaked Brightbill.

The robot was terribly conflicted. Part of her knew she had to help her son, but another part knew she had to stay out of deep water. Her body lurched forward and then backward, again and again, as she struggled to make a decision.

And then Loudwing came to the rescue.

“Rockmouth, don’t you dare harm that little darling!” The old goose fluttered over and splashed down right on top of the fish. “Leave… him… alone!” She pecked and kicked and beat her wings against the fish until he surrendered to the murky depths of the pond.

Loudwing escorted Brightbill back to the beach, and a minute later the gosling was in his mother’s arms, safe and sound.

“Rockmouth isn’t as dangerous as he seems,” said the goose, out of breath. “But I think that’s enough swimming for one day.”