The Last Goose

Written in memory of my six geese, who had been with us for a couple of years, and whom I greatly miss. We don't know what ate them, but something did.

The Last Goose

As the sun slowly slipped behind the trees, the last goose floated quietly in the small pool and waited.

She hadn't always been the last goose. Just a few days ago she'd been the Smallest goose of a family of six. They had a small pond and pools that the human tended, plenty of good food, and ducks and chickens to boss around. Life was good.

Only a few days ago they'd been running up and down the driveway and trying to fly, and Smallest caught a wind just right and made it halfway down the driveway. Eldest was impressed, and the human who'd seen the event had made noise with its hands and mouth which Smallest thought was approval. She might be the smallest, but she was the best flier!

Then one night bad things came out of the woods. Broken Wing let out a terrible cry which was quickly cut off, and then there was chaos. They scattered in every direction and no one saw exactly what happened, but Broken Wing was gone. After a while they plucked up their courage and looked for her, but none of them ever saw her again.

Another day passed, and when the darkness fell the bad things came again. Eldest saw the shadows coming towards them through the trees and called a warning. They ran for the big house, all but Gander who turned to protect his flock. The four remaining geese gathered on the porch and called,and eventually ventured out to where they'd last seen him, but all they found was a few feathers. Gander was gone.

At the next sunset the four of them were very nervous and stayed close to the house, resting in the light that streamed out of the window. The light did not protect them. The bad things seemed to have a taste for goose now, and no fear of the house or the humans. The terrified geese ran in every direction, flapping their wings and calling out until the humans came out of the house with lights and guns to see what the matter was. Next to Eldest and Smallest came back towards the house, and the humans took their lights and ran to look for the other two geese. Smallest huddled close to her sister and hoped against hope that the humans would return herding the missing two back to safety, but it was not to be. They returned carrying horror, a leg that Smallest recognized as Eldest's, and that was all.

Not an hour later the bad things came again, and Smallest ran as fast as she could and tried to fly. She flew as high as she ever had, over the fence and into the pasture with the horse. At first she thought the horse would stomp her, but he only wanted to sniff her and then stood near her. She squatted on the grass and trembled, but the bad things did not come where the horse was. She saw the humans out searching again, and one spotted her with the light and called out to the other, but they left her alone.

In the next day's sunshine Smallest walked back to the house, and she went all around calling and calling for Next to Eldest, but there was no answer. After a while, she understood, that she wasn't Smallest any more but the Last Goose. As the darkness fell that night, she floated in the small pool and waited, awake all night, starting at every sound.

The sun found her still there. Eventually she moved to the pond and got some sleep with her head tucked under her wing, and she hardly moved all day. She ignored the ducks even when they came close to her, and ignored the human and the food that was placed before her. As the sun began to touch the tips of the trees to the West, she moved back to the tiny pool, the one that was much too small to keep her safe.

And so the Last Goose floated quietly in the small pool, and she waited. And if the bad things came again, she would not try to run or fly.

The morning sun found the small pool empty, and not even a feather was left of the Last Goose.