Somewhere in the Midwest a woman is washing dishes. Her name is Cherie Blair and she has alot on her mind. Tom her husband is at work. Recently, Tom’s father James passed away. James was a grocer all his life. With Tom as his only son, the business has passed to him. Cherie and her husband have made a life for themselves in Clifton but Tom thinks they should sell up, move to Rouge and look after the grocers. Their children have grown up and both now have families of their own. As she has done her entire adult life, Cherie will take her husband’s lead. Tom is the mover and shaker.

It is mid afternoon. The children of the neighbourhood will be getting out of school for the day. From Cherie’s vantage point at the kitchen window, she can see cars driving to and fro. Outside on the lawn the red paint of a For Sale sign glimmers in the sign. With the last of the plates in her hand dried and put away Cherie sits down at the kitchen table and prepares to read the day’s paper. No sooner has she turned the first page than she hears a bark from the backyard. Something has disturbed Teller their dog.

Pulling aside the screen door Cherie catches a glimpse of a brown blur chasing a white blur around the confines of the garden. This goes on for several seconds until the blurs come to a complete halt. One dog, one….bird? With a squawk the bird runs at Teller. His earlier courage vanishes and he sprints for his kennel in the garden’s corner. The bird follows him part of the way and then halts. Finally the word comes to Cherie. Goose. It’s a goose. How on earth did it get here? Tom will have to sort it, Cherie resolve. Thinking to grab the telephone she turns on her heel to go back inside. Then an aggressive voice pipes up: Could we speak madam?

Stopped mid-stride, Cherie’s head swivels on her shoulders. The goose pads forward and stops just a few feet away from her. ‘I’m sure this is all a bit strange madam’. The words are not spoken, but honked. The goose continues, ‘But if you will indulge me for a few moments, I can explain everything’. At the goose’s final words, Cherie’s eyes practically bulge in her head. An eek escapes her lips, and then a jumble of words: what….who….can I help you? Pausing a beat the goose honks again, ‘My name is Frank, and contrary to appearances, I was not always a goose. If we could just go inside I can explain. I’m actually here to buy your house’.

This is more than Cherie’s conscious mind can take. With a thump she passes out on the porch. The goose lets out a sigh and mutters to himself, ‘Why does this always happen? At the entrance of his kennel Teller lies down and lets out a whine.