The Gooses Dynasty

A Goose's Dynasty

Fast asleep in the nest, five goslings snuggled together. Their mother was out collecting food. When she returned, one gosling was gone.

Three weeks later

Stream made his way carefully through the rapids that connected the two ponds where he had grown up. The rapids swept him along, and he had to paddle his little feet as quickly as possible to avoid being sucked into the depths of the gurgling water. He reached the bottom of the rapids, and was immediately squashed by the weight of his sister, Waterfall.

“Hey!” He quacked

His sister just laughed, as did his other two siblings, Lily and Reed.

“Oh Stream, don’t be such a gosling! Lily remarked, laughing.

“I am a gosling,” Stream mumbled. Stream was the runt of his siblings, so he always got picked on the most. He knew it didn’t matter in the long run. As long as all of them stayed alive, they would leave the ponds and find their own wetlands to live in.

“Come along now,” Their mother quacked, beckoning with her beak. The goslings paddled after her. They arrived at the shore of the pond, where mother started pecking up the little bugs that scuttled through the grass, and the goslings did the same.

Stream was wandering through the greenery, pecking up any unfortunate insects who wandered through his path, when he heard his mother cry out his name. He looked up to see a human looking at him. He quacked with fright, then scuttled back to his mother, who was hissing a warning at the huge, wingless creature.

The human was old, with something on his head, and he appeared to have some sort of clear rock in front of his eyes. He was smiling, looking at the geese intently.

“Back to the water,” Mother quacked.

Stream slipped into the water and paddled away, followed by his siblings. He looked back at the human, who was now continuing to walk around the pond.

Two days later

The rain and wind pelted Stream’s feathers as he huddled in the reeds with his brother and sisters. Mother was beside them, shielding them with her wings, but it was rather ineffective. Stream could tell his siblings we’re scared, as was he, this was the first big storm they had ever faced.

SWISHASNAAAAP!!!!

A huge tree branch broke off the nearby acacia… and came hurtling towards the goslings.

Waterfall moved first, bashing into Stream and causing him to dunk his already soaked head into the water. He was bombarded by webbed feet as his siblings followed her. His attempts to swim back to the surface were put to an end when the water’s current; propelled by the wind, caught him, sweeping him away. He struggled frantically to get his head above water, but his tiny body was no match for the power of Mother Nature.

He started to feel something he hadn't felt before. It was like he was running out of air. Reed had gotten stuck in a rotting log while diving, and described this feeling of “Not having enough air” after mother had saved him. Now Stream was feeling this horrible experience. He paddled as hard as he could for the surface, and then he was airborne. Wind flew by his ears as he fell through the air after being launched off the top of a small waterfall. He landed with a splash in front of a silver, tube like thing that appeared to be sucking in all nearby water. He started to be drawn towards it, and then immediately started paddling with all his might away from the tube, but he was soon sucked into the darkness.

Terror overwhelmed Stream. He paddled frantically, calling as loudly as he could for his mother, but his quacks just echoed back at him.

It felt like days that he was in the tube, but finally, he saw a light at the end of the tunnel. He started paddling as fast as he possibly could towards the daylight. Sunlight warmed his feathers as he was launched out of the tunnel and into a small creek.

He spent the next day floating down the creek, eating strands of seaweed, and hoping that his mother was coming to find him. Surely she would figure out that he had been swept away through the silver tube when she couldn’t find him anywhere in the pond.

He pondered on why Waterfall had run into him like that. He was closest to where the branch was going to hit, so why go towards him?? He assumed his sibling had just followed her in the terror. Waterfall often acted as the leader of the group.

He finally reached the end of the creek, which popped out into a large, grassy, wetland. He paddled around for a bit, before spotting something in the distance. It looked like one of the egrets that he had seen at the pond on time, except it was a greyish blue color, with a curved round beak. He headed towards it, assuming it was some type of after foul.

It looked over and saw him and Stream quacked: “Hi!”

The bird looked back at him, confused. He was smaller than an egret, but thicker, and more elegant.

“Are you a goose?” He said.

“Yes! I was washed away from my home during a storm, and I need help getting back.

The bird cocked his head.

“Um, what do you need?”

“Uh, I don’t know, a way to get back there quickly?” Stream replied

“Well, where is the place you want to go?” The bird asked.

“It's a small pond that’s surrounded by a bunch of human houses.”

“Oh! We fly over that place every season when we travel from wetland to wetland!” The bird said happily. “Maybe I can help you! I’m Tulip, a flamingo.

So that was what these birds were called. He thought tulip was a funny name for a bird with such a subdued color, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’m Stream,” he said.

“Come with me,” Tulip said, then turned and started wading through the water on his long legs. Stream swam after him.

“So how did you get down here?” Tulip asked.

Stream told him about the storm and the branch, how he had been bashed by his sister, gotten sucked into the tube, and ended up in the wetlands.

“Oh, um, I see,” Tulip said.

“What’s wrong?” Stream asked.

“That’s, um, kind of sad,” Tulip said evasively.

“No, you're worried about something else,” Stream said.

Tulip looked away guiltily, and then sighed.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!!!” Stream replied.

“Okay then. Here I go.” He said.

“Last spring, a family of geese like you hatched. There were five goslings. Then, one day, there were only four. The smallest one was gone. Four days later, there were only three. Then only two. I asked one of the Goslings about what had happened. She told me that her big brother was picking off the other goslings, shoving them out of the nest at night, or pushing them a little too hard when near rapids, or being too loud when a hawk was soaring overhead. He was trying to ensure his own survival by being the only one who his parents could care for. Then she went back to her nest. The next day, the big male was the only gosling left.”

“No! Stream quacked. “No way, Waterfall wouldn’t do that.” But the pieces started falling together. The fifth gosling who had been sleeping beside Waterfall, at the edge of the nest. Had she shoved him out of the nest, before they even got their names? The suspicious way that Waterfall had rammed into him during the storm.

“My other siblings, they're in danger! I have to get back to the pond,” Stream quacked.

“You're in luck,” Tulip said, gesturing to the sea of pink that lay in front of them.

“Wow,” Stream said, awestruck by the beauty and elegance of the tall birds.

“Dad!” Tulip called.

A flamingo turned his head towards Tulip.

“Tulip! You're late, everyone’s waiting for you!”

“Because this goose needs help! He has to save his siblings, and we can help!”

Stream nodded vigorously while Tulip talked, trying to emphasize the importance of getting back to the pond soon.

“How am I supposed to help him?” Tulips' father said.

“ I was thinking, maybe, just maybe, he could ride on your back. He’s definitely small enough to fit.” Tulip said.

Tulips' father rolled his eyes, and then called out: “Rose!”

“Yes dear,” said a female flamingo.

“Would you be willing to give this goose a ride?”

“Why of course,” she said sweetly. “As long as he’s not scared to fly up there, seeing as if he fell, well, um, that would be bad.”

Stream gulped, trying to think of Lily and Reed rather than the thought of falling a thousand meters to his death.

“I’ll do it,” he stuttered. Darn it, he had to sound brave. “I’ll do it!” He said, this time with more power and courage in his voice.

Flying was amazing. There was nothing more to say. The wind on his feathers and the blue sky and the clouds and the way it felt and, well everything about it was amazing. He had his wings spread, pretending he was actually the one flying, instead of sitting on the back of the rather nutty Roses back. Rose was, well, quirky. She was nice, but she just didn’t quite seem normal. Her toes wriggled as she flew, and she kept crying out with joy, or remarking on how sweet and cute Stream was.

It was about an hour later that Stream spotted his pond. A set of houses surrounded it like a wall, and the acacia tree on the island in the center of the water.

“There!” He quacked with joy.

Rose swooped down to the pond, landed, bid him farewell, and took off with a loony cry of joy.

Tulip, who was with her, waved goodbye and wished him good luck.

Stream turned around and took a deep breath. It was time to save his siblings.

It took him around ten minutes to find Waterfall. She appeared to be holding something in the water her bill, while whatever it was thrashed around. It surfaced for a second, and Stream recognized the face as Lily’s.

He didn’t hesitate, he swam towards Waterfall at high speed, and then rammed into her as hard as he could. She stumbled backwards, flaring her wings to catch her fall. Stream went at her again, bashing in the chest. Meanwhile, Lily surfaced, gasping for air.

“How?!” Waterfall cried, “How are you still alive!!”

Stream didn’t answer, he just charged Waterfall again, but this time she dodged and hit him multiple times in the head with her wings. Stream ducked the last attack from Waterfall’s wings and tried to retaliate with his own wings, but Waterfall pecked him hard in the neck. He quacked in pain, swimming backwards to escape Waterfalls next peck.

“Why! Why would you try and kill your own siblings!!!” He shouted at her.

“Because you're weak, and nature shows no mercy! Survival of the fittest!!!” She hissed back at him, then charged towards him. She slammed into him, and he splashed backwards, winded. She came at him again, attacking in a flurry of wings and pecks.

Stream stumbled backwards helplessly. He tried to peck back, but Waterfall's wings bashed his head away.

Then there was a cry from somewhere nearby.

“HAWK!!!” Lily shouted.

Waterfall stopped hitting Stream for a second, and they both looked up to see a hawk slicing through the air. The turned tail, swimming as fast as they could go. Waterfall's bigger feet propelled her forward, in front of Stream, making him the obvious target for the predator.

He felt his feet lifting up through the water. He was making more of a running motion than a swimming one. He could hear the hawk's wings beating behind him. His feet were on top of the water now. He spread his wings, and then he was airborne. His webbed feet weren’t touching the water anymore. He was flying! He beat his wings as hard as he could, trying to escape the hawk. He saw Waterfall look up with a look of hate in her eyes.

The hawk changed course towards the easier target, and then scooped Waterfall up in his talons and carried her away. She quacked furiously at Stream, who carefully splashed back into the water.

He watched as the hawk and Waterfall became a distant spot on the horizon.

He had done it, he was more than a runt, he was a hero, or, was he. He had just led his own sister to her death. Was he really his family's savior?

But then Lily, Reed, and mother swam over to him, looking solemn but happy at the same time.

“I always suspected Waterfall of trying to hurt her siblings,” Mother said, shaking her head. “But you're safe now, and I would rather have three normal goslings than one strong and murderous one. Come here,” she said.

Lily, Reed, and Stream snuggled into the warmth of their mother’s feathers, and she brought her wings around them. Whatever horrors nature sent his way, Stream knew at that moment that he could overcome them, that he could survive.