J.J. transported Mrs. Claus, Leroy, William and Otto in the Volvo sleigh to a cabin outside of Bergen, Norway. It took them seconds to reach there thanks to the same technology that was used to get the traditional sleigh around the world in one night.
Otto knocked loudly on the door and they waited for someone to answer. After three rounds of banging on the old, wooden door it finally creaked open.
“Ja, ja, ja, slap av,” said the voice fully expecting Norwegian company.
“Hej Brynjar, det er fætter Otto fra Californien,” said Otto in Danish.
Brynjar switched to English, “Long time, no see. Did you bring any of that weed of yours? I’ll get my pipe.”
He opened the door to the group. Brynjar was tall by nisse standards and about the same height as William. He was wearing heavy cotton pants with lots of pockets and an elaborate wool sweater with matching cap. He had long, bushy sideburns that came down to the corner of his mouth and looked like a Nordic fisherman from back in the day.
“Yeah, I brought some for you along with a bottle of single malt. In exchange we really need to pick your brain about Shetland,” said Otto and handed him a black velvet bag and a bottle of whisky from Islay.
Brynjar let them into his cabin and put the gifts from Otto down on a coffee table. He invited the group to sit although there wasn’t room for everyone.
He tore the wrapping off of the whisky bottle and picked up a glass from the coffee table. He poured himself a hearty slug of the smoky whisky and took a large sip.
“Here’s to Shetland,” said Brynjar and raised his glass.
“We were hoping that you could help with some information on the islands,” said William.
“The wheels on the bus go ‘round, ‘round, ‘round,” said Brynjar in a sing-song manner.
“And Mary had a little lamb,” said Leroy snidely.
Otto shook his head at Leroy and said, “That’s right, Brynjar. The Shetland Bus. You helped with that during the Second World War.”
The Shetland Bus was a joint operation between the Norwegians, who were occupied by German forces, and a group of fisherman from Shetland to help support the war efforts.
“Aye, aye, matey,” said Brynjar and took another sip of his Scotch.
“We’re looking for something even older than the Shetland Bus,” said Otto.
“My first wife was from Scalloway,” said Brynjar.
Mrs. Claus started to say something, obviously impatient with Brynjar’s helter skelter mode of communicating. Otto put his hand up to her as if to say, I got this.
“And a fine lass she was. But we are looking for someone else from Shetland. Cailleach,” said Otto.
Brynjar’s eyes perked at the mention of that name and he said with real emotion, “That bitch!”
He downed the rest of his glass of whisky.
