Read An Owl's Whisper for Free Online Page B

exhausted.
    Eva kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “Remember, we’re leaves, not fish. Chin up.” But even words bright as morning sunshine couldn’t melt the frost on Françoise’s heart.
    Back in the classroom, Eva could taste the brew of fear and boredom fermenting there. This calls for a tonic. Another chapter in the tales of the residents of St. François D’Assisi.
    Even Clarisse slipped casually in among the listeners when Eva began.
    “One morning the wrens were awakened early by a clamor outside their dormitory room in the grand old fir tree that served as the convent school. All atwitter, the wrens sprang from their nests. They were ruffling their feathers and chattering when Sister Mouse burst in. Since the dormitory room was a rather large space for so small a voice to fill, she cleared her throat and squeaked, ‘Students, this morning the forest is full of geese. Their coarse honking assaults every ear. We meet with Mother Swan momentarily on the chapel branch.”
    Dani took Eva’s hand. “Who are the geese supposed to be?”
    “L’Hôpital, that’s a really dumb question,” Nathalie said. “They’re some kind of soldiers or something. Right, Eva?”
    Eva smiled, “Patience, girls. You’ll have an idea, soon enough.”
    “In three minutes the wrens dressed and flew down to the chapel. A moment after they arrived, the door latch clicked, and every head turned to watch Mother Swan glide in. She was serene as she spoke. ‘My flowers, as you know, gaggles of geese fill the forest, and they don’t show signs of moving on. Have you thoughts on what to do about our Goose-tapo problem?’”
    Danielle squealed, “The Germans. I knew it!”
    Eva smiled at Dani and continued. “There were whispered chirps and hushed peeps, but no ideas surfaced. Finally, Sister Tortoise rose in her usual glacial way.
    “Mother Swan smiled patiently. ‘Yes, Sister?’
    “‘It occurs to me, Mother, that, ignoring certain obvious differences, there is a strong resemblance between a swan and a goose.’
    “Mother Swan’s neck stiffened, and her beak opened, and her wings flared out, and a hiss began to form in the back of her throat, as if—
    “Sister Tortoise seemed oblivious to Mother’s reaction. ‘Now, a swan is larger than a goose, but that would be to our advantage, wouldn’t it? In my experience, geese are easily intimidated. Mother, you could go outside and claim to be the head goose and order them to leave St. François alone.’
    “Mother studied the notion for a moment. You could almost see her mind running with it. She relaxed her wings and her beak and her throat. ‘Sister Tortoise, you’re a genius!’
    “Mother looked through the window at the geese below, strutting their silly, stiff-legged kick-walk. ‘We must hurry. Sister Mouse, come! Up on my beak.’ Sister Mouse jumped up, and it looked as if Mother had a stubby toothbrush moustache. She marched onto a tree limb overlooking the forest floor, and holding her right wing up, she boomed, ‘ Achtung! ’”
    Eva put a finger to the space between lip and nose, a pseudomoustache, as she spoke Mother’s lines. The girls’ giggling turned to raucous laughter.
    “The geese looked up, and their eyes popped. They cried, ‘Our Führer !’
    “With Sister Mouse on her beak and wild wing flapping and loud ranting, Mother Swan had the geese spellbound. She roared, ‘I command that you keep clear of these parts. I will personally see to things here. Pity any goose who ignores my order! You are dismissed. Raus !’
    “Mother kept up her flamboyant wing movements and guttural blusters until, in a cloud of feathers, dust, and honks, all the geese had fled. Then she strutted back into the chapel, to the cheers and adulations of every wren.”
    St. Sébastien’s girls likewise broke into cheers.
    A minute later, Clarisse pulled Eva aside. “In your fairy tales, Goldilocks, good may triumph. But you know, real life hardly ever works that