Pushing the Glacier
a short story about a boy, a wall of ice, and a troll .
Written by Stuart Baum
Illustrations by Zoë Baum
For Hal
Chapter I: We meet the boy.
Every morning, Callan would go outside his home and push the
glacier as hard as his eleven-year old strength could
manage. Callan was not a large boy, so this was not a large
amount of pressure on the glacier.
Callan, his parents, his big sister Lente and his little
sister Verbungt lived in the same home that his
grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great-grandparents
and even his triple-great grandparents lived. It was on the
edge of the water about a half a day’s boat ride North of
Trondheim, Norway.
Callan’s triple-great grandparents built the house on the
edge of the water nearly one hundred and fifty years ago.
The house was set between two small hills on slope that led
up to a higher hill and, eventually, a small mountain. When
Callan’s triple-great grandparents built the house, they
knew there was a glacier towards the top of the slope. It
was hard not to notice the giant wall of ice that had
settled, as they did, nicely on the downhill slope between
the two hills. What they didn’t know (and, to be fair, what
no one at that time knew) was that the glacier was slowly,
but steadily moving towards the house.
One hundred and fifty years later, the glacier had moved
down the hill, inch by inch, day by day, month by month,
until it was now just a few feet from Callan’s back door.
Callan’s parents knew that the glacier would meet their
house and, as sure as there were fish in the ocean, push the
house into the water to join these fish.
So, every morning before walking to school, for as long as
his strength held out that morning, Callan’s pushed at the
glacier.
Oh, Callan was not a dumb boy. He knew that pushing at the
glacier did nothing to stop its progress. Even Gunnvar, the
strongest boy in the school, pushing nonstop for twenty
years would not slow the glacier by one minute. Even all the
boys in the school could not help.
No, Callan’s family couldn’t move into a new home. Usually
when people move, they sell their first house and use that
money to pay for at least a large part of the new house.
Since no one would buy a house with a glacier just inches
away, Callan’s family had to save all the money up from
scratch. Callan’s parents kept trying to save money but
something kept happening to use up all their savings. First,
it was funerals for his grandmother and grandfather. Then it
was a new motor for the boat. Then it was a new storage
house. Then it was … something else. And the next year it
would be something else again.
Callan looked forward ten years to the day the glacier would
entirely fill the space between the hills, his house would
be in the water and he, his parents, and his two sisters
would be sitting on the side of the hill looking down to
where they used to live.
So Callan had to do something. And the only something he
could think of was to push at the glacier until the real
something, the idea that might help him move the glacier or
move the house, came to him.
“It’s harder to think when you are pushing,” said Trulla,
one of the girls at school. “If you spent all the time just
thinking, instead of thinking and pushing, you might
actually think of something.”
Gunnvar was less hopeful. He was a big boy, far larger than
most adults, but he wasn’t a bully. He was actually one of
the nicest boys in the school, though few people believed
this could be true since he was so large. Callan was the
only one who knew, really, that Gunnvar was so nice.
“Nothing can stop the glacier,” said Gunnvar. “Not strength.
Not brains. Not even dumb luck. There is no hope for your
house.”
Even so, every morning, Callan pushed and pushed and pushed
and pushed at the glacier until he was too tired to do
anything but lean against it and cry. When the tears stopped
(or froze if it was cold enough … which was a great number
of the days of the year) Callan would grab his book bag and
walk the two miles to school.
His sisters needed to be at school earlier than he did, so
he walked down the snowy streets and through the town alone.
“Any luck, today?” teased the other children.
“Nope,” said Callan matter-of-factly. Some of the other boys
were bullies, but they knew Gunnvar was friendly with Callan
and, for this reason, did nothing more than tease him.
Chapter II: We meet the troll.
One morning, when Callan was outside pushing at the glacier,
he heard a voice from above him. It was deep, gruff and
menacing, but also somewhat squeaky. “Why push you? Ice not
move.”
Callan looked up and saw a troll sitting on top of the
glacier. Trolls were very uncommon in Callan’s town, but not
unknown. While you might see one wandering along the top of
the mountains, they almost never came down to the village.
Once, when Callan was five, a troll was seen standing next
to the school. Its head almost reached to the top of the
single-story building. They canceled school that day. The
next day, the troll was gone and school was open again.
Neither of the two teachers would speak about the troll.
So, when Callan looked up and saw that there was a troll
(and a rather large on as it appeared) talking to him, he
was very afraid. He thought about running, but didn’t want
to turn his back on the troll, which could slide down the
ice face and, perhaps, in one bite, swallow his head. Also,
Callan was a polite boy who didn’t judge people by their
size.
“I know,” said Callan. He said nothing more, but continued
to look at the troll. The troll didn’t move or even blink,
but continued to look down at Callan.
Callan wasn’t sure what to do next. Should he run? Should he
scream? He thought any movement or sound at all would mean
he’d be the troll’s breakfast.
The troll narrowed its eyes and leaned its head a little
closer, but still said nothing.
Finally, the troll spoke again. It seemed a little
impatient. “Why push you? I question. You answer.”
Callan was unsure what the troll wanted. “I don’t know,” he
replied.
Now the troll got angry. It stood up and stomped its feet on
the top of the glacier. “You think troll stupid?”
“N-n-n-no,” said Callan, though he really didn’t know if
trolls were smart or not.
The troll seemed to take this well and sat back down. It
smiled … sort of. In a nicer tone of voice, it said, “I
question. You answer. Why push you?”
Callan sighed because it was better than crying. He was
scared and sad all at once. “To try to stop the glacier from
pushing my house into the water.”
The troll jumped up suddenly. Callan fell backwards and
closed his eyes, expecting the troll to leap on him and eat
his head. Instead, Callan heard something that sounded like
a laugh or a tree creaking or both.
The troll was now dancing while it laughed. Callan wondered
why it didn’t slip on the ice. Its large, black feet must
have good grips on the bottoms.
Through its laughter, the troll squealed, “Boy think he can
move ice wall. Boy push. Ice wall move back. House saved.
Funny, funny, funny!” The troll kept dancing and squealing,
“Funny, funny, fun-ny! Funny, funny, fun-ny!” It became a
song, of sorts, and the troll danced along, “Funny, funny,
fun-ny! Funny, funny, fun-ny! Funny, funny, fun-ny!”
Callan got mad, but he knew better than to yell at a troll.
He put his head down and so quietly that you wouldn’t hear
even in your ear were right to his mouth, he whispered,
“It’s not funny.”
The troll suddenly stopped dancing and singing. It sat down.
“Not funny,” it agreed. “Not funny.” Then it started to cry,
loudly, and this sound was exactly like its laughing except
for the shaking of the shoulders and the tears streaming
from its face. As suddenly as it began crying, though, the
troll stopped. “Cry no help.” The troll narrowed its eyes
again and looked down at Callan. “Cry no help. Push no help.
Not funny.”
Callan smiled weakly. This was all true. The troll, in its
own troll-like way, had just summed up Callan’s entire life.
Then to Callan’s surprise, the troll stood up and smiled. A
real smile, not crooked at all, and said, “Cry no help. Push
no help. Not funny.” Then he winked at Callan and, as it
pressed one of its three fingers against its own chest,
said, “Uffell help.” Thinking that Callan didn’t understand
that the troll’s name was Uffell, it said slowly, “Uffell
me. Me help. Troll help.”
Callan brightened at this. He looked up the glacier wall
into the misshapen, though mostly human-like face and
wondered if the troll, if Uffell, really could help.
“How you help?” asked Callan, and then quickly correcting
his speech, so as to not offend the troll, asked, “How can
you help stop the glacier?”
The troll, very quickly, said, “Need chocolate.”
“You need chocolate to move the glacier?” asked Callan.
“No,” said the troll. “Need chocolate eat.”
For the first time this morning Callan smiled. He said, “Oh.
You want some chocolate to eat.”
The troll clapped his hands. “Yes! Yes! Uffell want
chocolate eat.” The troll looked very excited about the
chocolate.
Callan went into the house and took one of the three
chocolate bars from the cupboard. He took a step away from
the cupboard and decided to take the other two as well. He
expected he might need them.
When he got outside, Uffell was no longer on the top of the
glacial wall. The troll was still on the glacier, but
further up the slope. It waved Callan towards him.
The troll yelled, a little too loud even for the distance,
“You here! Chocolate here! Eat!”
Callan had never climbed up the glacier before. His parents
had forbidden it. Also, it was time for him to go to school.
He didn’t want to leave the troll, but knew he would get
into too much trouble if he missed school.
He waved the chocolate bar and threw it up on top of the
glacier. He yelled, “I have to go to school now! I will come
back after school and you can show me how to stop the
glacier! I will give you two more chocolate bars if you help
me!” He waved the two other chocolate bars in the air so the
troll could see them.
The troll yelled down, even louder than last time, “Yes!
Yes! Two chocolate eat. You later.”
Callan hoped this was just the troll’s poor speech and not
that the troll meant to eat him after he had finished the
chocolate. But there was nothing Callan could do. If the
troll wanted to eat him, he’d already have been eaten.
Callan started walked down the street towards school. In a
few minutes he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked back
and then up. He gasped. The troll was standing next to him!
“Thank you chocolate. Uffell help boy. Boy meet Uffell
there.” The troll pointed up to the top of the glacier,
which was about halfway up the mountain.
Callan wasn’t sure he was more scared by being next to a
troll or having to go halfway up the mountain.
“I’m n-n-n-not sure I can make it that far up the mountain,”
said Callan.
The troll bent down so his face was level with Callan’s.
Callan could smell the troll’s breath, which was a cross
between mold and chocolate. “Boy no come, Uffell no help boy
move ice wall.”
With that, the troll ran-hopped into woods and out of sight.
Chapter III: Up the glacier.
Callan might as well have stayed home from school that day,
since he couldn’t think of anything but what he had to do
after school.
He would leave a note for his parents and then go meet the
troll. He knew he’d get in trouble for not doing his chores,
but also knew his parents would understand if he succeeded
in stopping the glacier. He didn’t really expect this would
happen. He actually expected that, in the end, he’d be eaten
by Uffell or some other troll or perhaps was being tricked
into being the dinner for a whole house (den? cave?) full of
trolls, but he knew he had to try.
He did have a plan if it looked like he was going to be
eaten: If he got into trouble, he would throw the chocolate
bar one way and run the other way and hope the troll liked
chocolate more than human.
After school, Callan told his sisters he was going out to
play, which was not true, and left his parents a note that
read, “Went to move the glacier. Might be back late.” This
was true.
He put the two chocolate bars into his book bag and set off
up the mountain. The walk was easier than he expected. The
difficult part would be getting to the middle of the
glacier. He didn’t see the troll, but decided to go there
anyway, and to wait.
It was slippery, but there was plenty of rough snow on top
to maintain his balance. He went to the middle, to where the
troll had pointed, and before he could look around to see if Uffell were coming, he saw that Uffell was standing next to
him. Callan was used to the troll’s sudden appearance this
time and did not gasp.
The troll asked for the chocolate immediately. “Chocolate
eat,” it declared.
Callan responded simply and quietly, “One bar now, one bar
later.”
“After move ice wall?” the troll asked.
“Yes,” replied Callan and for the first time, possibly in
his whole life, he held out some hope that he, with the
troll’s help, could push back the glacier.
He handed over the chocolate bar, which in the troll’s hands
seemed far too small to be satisfying. The troll ate it
greedily, licking and then chewing and swallowing the
wrapper.
The troll sniffed the air, as if trying to find a certain
smell and then nodded to Callan. “More chocolate. Good,” it
said. “Now go.”
The troll started walk-hopping up the glacier towards the
mountaintop. Callan tried to follow, but, very soon, the
troll was most of the way up and Callan had still only
managed a very short distance. The troll looked back and
groaned, “Boy slow!”
“Yes,” replied Callan, “but I am trying as hard as I can.”
The troll walked-slid down to Callan almost crashing into
him, but stopping just in time. “No wonder human bottom
mountains,” the troll chided. “Uffell carry boy.” He picked
Callan up and threw him over a very bumpy shoulder and, in a
few dizzy moments, they were at the top of the ice flow
looking into an ice cave.
“Boy go,” said the troll. “Uffell stay.” It added, as if it
had learned a new word, “Later chocolate.”
Callan nodded, but was nervous about going into the ice cave
without Uffell. What could the troll be afraid of? And if
the troll were afraid, what chance did a small boy have? He
looked into the cave. It was more of a hole down than a
cave. And, covered in ice as it was, more of a slide than a
hole.
“Boy go,” said Uffell and before Callan could reply, the
troll gave him a push and down he slid into the darkness.
Chapter IV: Into the ice cave.
For what seemed like an hour, but was really less than a
minute, Callan slid and spun and twisted and dropped and
turned and slid some more, both up and down but mostly down,
until he slowly came to an upward place that slowed his
movement enough that he could put his hands down and stop.
His bottom was soaked, he was freezing cold and it was too
dark to see his hands in front of his face, but for some
reason, he felt none of this was important.
What he thought was important was the following: he was
inside the glacier.
He heard running water to his left, so he decided to try
that way. Hands in front of him, feet slipping and sliding,
Callan managed to press forward towards the sound of running
water. The sound got louder and louder and either his eyes
adjusted to the lack of light or the room (cave? area?) was
getting brighter. He could see he was in a tunnel that was
gently sloping upwards. The tunnel was covered in ice on the
sides, but frozen dirt on the bottom. It was too dark to see
the roof.
After a few more steps, Callan’s foot landed with a splash.
He pulled his foot out of the water and looked down at a
small running stream. He knew that this was what was causing
the glacier to grow. If he could find a way to stop this
stream, the glacier, too, would stop. He no longer cared
that his bottom and now his foot was soaking wet. He had
found the source of his family’s grief. If he could find the
beginning of this stream, he might be able to save their
house!
Callan started walking upstream. As he progressed upwards,
the tunnel became lighter and lighter. Unfortunately it also
became smaller and smaller. Soon, he could reach the
ceiling. Soon after that, he had to duck his head as he
walked. Not much farther up, he had to stoop … then bend his
knees as well … then walk with his hands on the ground …
then crawl … and, sooner than he had hoped, he was pulling
his body forward with his hands, almost swim crawling in the
stream. Finally, he was too large for the tunnel and could
go no further. He slide a little backwards, pleased that he
wasn’t stuck, which didn’t help him find the source of the
stream, but meant he could go back down if he wanted.
‘Phew!’ thought Callan. ‘In stories like this, the little
boy always seems to get stuck.’
But even though Callan wasn’t stuck and could retreat, he
wasn’t yet ready to give up. Maybe he could find a solution.
By now, the tunnel was about as light as day. He rolled a
little to the side and looked at the sun. It was an orange
globe just beginning to go over the mountain. It was more to
one side of him than above him. Callan realized that he must
be right at the top of the mountain. The beginning of the
stream should be very close. He was more determined to save
his family tonight, if he could.
He looked for a stick on the ground, thinking he might break
through the glacier tunnel and continue forward on top. He
found no stick. Then suddenly, with no warning, it got dark.
As if something had blocked the sun.
He looked to where the sun used to be and saw a giant pair
of legs. Looking farther up, Callan saw that these legs were
attached to a troll. It was Uffell! Callan waved to Uffell
to break through the ice. Uffell smiled and waved back.
Callan waved more excitedly – as best as he could in the
tight space – and Uffell waved back even more excitedly,
seeming to enjoy the game. After a few minutes, the sunlight
fading every minute, Callan gave up waving. He reached into
his book bag (with some effort) and pulled out the chocolate
bar. He placed the chocolate bar on the ground in front of
him and slid back a few feet.
Just as he expected, Uffell smashed his find into the ice
tunnel and grabbed the chocolate. This produced a hole large
enough for Callan to climb through.
Callan was so happy, he jumped up and gave Uffell a big hug
or, to be exact, gave Uffell’s thigh a big hug; it was as
far as Callan could reach. Uffell barely noticed. The troll
was too busy eating the chocolate and licking, and then
eating, the chocolate bar wrapper.
Chapter Last: A diversion of sorts.
Callan looked around. He was not where he expected to be.
That is, he was not at the top of the mountain between which
the glacier (and his house) rested. The tunnel must have
turned and twisted, since he was standing in a forest on the
north slope (the one to the right of his house.)
Down the slope, just a small ways away, was the main part of
the glacier.
He felt better about this, since he would have been upset
if, for all these years, stopping the glacier would have
been as easy as going to the top and stopping a small
stream. You had to go into the glacier itself and follow the
stream from the inside. Not an easy task if you were not a
small boy and you did not receive a hand and a push from a
large troll.
He looked up the slope and there, a short walk away, he saw
a small pool of bubbling water. It was a spring. And from
this spring came a small stream of water that flowed
directly to where he was standing now and, he assumed, to
the bottom of the glacier where it froze into more glacier.
The first thing Callan did was walk up the spring and take a
small sip of water. Even though he had been crawling in
water for the past few hours, he was still very thirsty. The
water was very good, but very cold.
The next thing he did was to splash as much water as he
could out of the pool to get a good look at the spring. His
hands were too small, so he asked the troll.
“Can you splash the water out of the spring, like this?” He
showed the troll how.
The troll splashed at the spring like a baby splashes at
bath water. The troll got itself wet, which it didn’t seem
to like.
Callan laughed, which made the troll squeal, though crying
or laughing Callan could not tell. Then Callan cupped his
hands and showed the troll how to splash water properly.
Soon, the troll got the hang of it and had quickly emptied
the small pool of water.
Inside the now empty pool was a crack in the rock from which
the water leapt. Callan wondered if he could plug this leak.
He found a long thin rock and asked the troll to bring it to
the pool and wedge it in the crack. This, the troll
understood just fine. He jammed the rock into the crack, but
the water seemed to come out from either end of the crack,
and just as quickly. He pointed to two more thin stones and
asked the troll to stick them into the two new cracks. The
troll did this as well, but, once again, the water seemed to
find a new way out.
Callan wasn’t sure what to try next. More rocks? But these
would just make the water come from new cracks. Fill the
whole pool with dirt? He doubted this would help.
The sunlight was fading fast, so Callan needed an idea
quickly.
The more he tried to think, the more he came up with
nothing. Then he remembered his father’s advice about ideas.
“Sometimes,” said his father, “when you can’t come up with a
solution, you need to get your mind off the problem. Then,
when you go back to it, you can up with an idea you didn’t
think of before. Otherwise, your brain will just go in
circles.” When his father couldn’t come up with an idea, he
would usually tell the three children (Their names are Lente,
Callan and Verbungt if you remember from the very beginning
of this story) to go hide and he would try to find them.
Since the other children weren’t there, Callan decided to
teach the troll how to play hide-and-go-seek.
Before he got very far into the explanation, the troll said.
“Know game. Boy count. Uffell hide. Boy find.”
“Yes!” said Callan. “That’s exactly right!” The troll was
happy to be correct. It clapped its hands and as soon as
Callan turned his back and sat down to count, it ran-hopped
off to find a place to hide.
So Callan sat down near the spring and started counting.
“…twenty-four…twenty-five…ready or not here I come!”
finished Callan and he got up and turned around. The troll
was nowhere to be found and the day had all but turned into
night. He hoped he could find the troll fast and he could
then figure out a way to stop the stream.
Callan looked around the area, wondering where such a large
creature might hide. Normally, he would try to find good
hiding places for himself and then look there for his
sisters, but that wouldn’t work in this case.
‘For example,’ Callan thought, ‘the troll could never fit in
that hollowed-out log.’ Once the thought of the hollowed-out
log entered his head, he knew he had the solution to his
problem. He didn’t need to stop the stream, he just needed
to make it go another direction. He needed to divert it from
the tunnel leading to the bottom of the glacier. The
hollowed log would work perfectly! Just put one end where
the stream bubbled out of the spring and the other end
facing away from the glacier.
The log was far too heavy for him to lift, but he knew the
troll could do it without much effort at all.
“Uffell! Uffell!” yelled Callan. “Come out I need you!” But
Uffell did not appear. ‘Oh no!’ thought Callan. ‘He thinks I
am trying to trick him into showing me his hiding place. I
guess I will really have to find him.’
This took longer than Callan had expected since Uffell could
get very far in twenty-five seconds. Plus, it was getting
dark. Eventually, though, Callan heard a grumbly chortle
from behind a large rock across the slope and, there, he
found Uffell.
Callan was right that Uffell could easily move the log and,
again, correct that it would divert the stream away from the
glacier. He was also right that this would stop the glacier.
Epilogue: Trolls must have their chocolate
Callan and the troll had saved the house.
The glacier stopped in its tracks and, while it melted a
little on hotter days and swelled a little on colder days,
it never touched the house or pushed it into the ocean.
Years went by. Callan married Trulla (the girl from school)
and they had three children: twin boys, named Bjorn and
Svein, and, two years later, a girl named Marte.
As we rejoin the story, we see a large troll sitting near a
spring where a stream pours through a hollow log. The stream
continues, harmlessly, into the woods and down the north
slope. Bjorn, one of now eleven-year-old twin boys, is
sitting on Uffell’s left knee and Svein is sitting on the
right one. Both are being bounced up and down as if they
were riding on horses. Marte is standing on Uffell’s
shoulder holding on tightly to the troll’s long hair.
Callan and Trulla are sitting on a blanket nearby with the
picnic baskets. Callan is carving a dragonhead on the end of
a walking stick and Trulla is sewing Marte’s name, in a red
and black floral pattern, onto a book bag.
“Be careful, Marte,” says her Mom.
“Yes,” says Callan. “Do be careful, Marte. It’s a long way
down from a troll’s head, even when the troll is sitting on
the ground.”
A few more minutes pass and suddenly Uffell stops bouncing
the children. The troll eyes one child and then the other.
It gets a very hungry look on its face.
“Uffell hungry,” it declares. “Small hungry,” it adds,
looking closely at Marte. “Boys big. Uffell eat girl.”
None of the children seem concerned.
Bjorn says, “I have a chocolate bar, but it’s mine Uffell.
You already had yours.”
“Yes,” adds Svein. “You will need to make good on your
threat and eat Marte.”
Marte giggles. “You wouldn’t eat me, would you Uffell?”
Uffell makes a very serious face. “Very hungry…” he starts,
but then breaks into a squeal-laugh. “…maybe legs.”
Trulla does not look up from her sewing, but says, “Please,
Uffell, do not eat the children. We just had them and I am
too tired right now to have any more.”
Callan laughs, then stands up. He pulls an extra large
chocolate bar from one of the baskets. “It just so happened
to have a troll-sized chocolate bar handy,” he says. “Unless
you’d rather eat Marte’s legs, Uffell.”
The three children quickly scurry down and off Uffell. They
know that nothing can come between a troll and its
chocolate.
While Uffell is quickly and messily devouring the chocolate
bar, Callan decides it’s a good time to give the children a
life lesson.
He gathers the kids nearby and says, “Uffell will never eat
any of you, not even just your legs, Marte, but other trolls
will. I was lucky that Uffell became my friend. You might
not be so lucky with other trolls, so it’s best to keep your
distance.”
Marte asks, “Even if you have chocolate?”
Callan laughs, then adds seriously, “Even with chocolate. I
think Uffell’s teeth are a great deal sweeter than other
troll’s teeth might be. Best just to stay away from other
trolls.”
They all look at Uffell who licks the oversized wrapper and
then, as usual, chews and swallows it.
THE END
©2006 StuartStories
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