Polly Brown

by Tricia Bennett

  Thomas gave her a faint smile before asking her to get him a drink of water. She returned, and after puffing up his thin pillows as best as she was able, she tried to help him sit up a little to enable him to take a few sips. It was no use, for Thomas was far too weak and she was not strong enough to help him; she therefore chose to dip her finger into the glass and wet his crusty lips.

  “Thank you, dear sister,” he wheezed, his large brown eyes glazing over with deep sadness. “But now I need you to go, for I fear that if you are caught, we will both be in big trouble.”

  Polly hesitated, feeling very reluctant to leave his bedside, for everything inside her wanted to stay and nurse him back to health. She would have stayed by his bedside forever because of her love for Thomas, but deep in her heart she knew he was right. As she stood up, she bent over his weak and limp body, gently wrapping her arms around his neck as she gave him a long, lingering hug in her attempt to transmit some of the deep love she had inside her heart for him.

  “I love you so much, Thomas Brown,” she said, her heart breaking with the pain of parting. “And I will always love you.”

  “I love you too, Polly,” he replied in a barely audible whisper. “Please look after James, for I know he is worried about me as well. Tell him his big brother has ordered you to, for you know what he’s like.”

  “Yes, I certainly do know.” Polly answered, smiling through her tears. “He thinks he’s much older than he really is, and he therefore never needs anyone’s help. Don’t worry, Thomas. I will never stop being there for James, and that’s a promise.”

  “I know, Polly,” Thomas faintly whispered as his heavy eyelids began to close. “I know. You never make promises that you don’t intend to keep, and that’s one of the many things I love about you. Now please go or we will both be in big trouble.”

  Polly moved forward to kiss his cheek, and with their tears mingling, she gently stroked his clammy forehead with her hand. She then clasped hold of his hand one final time, weaving her fingers into his as the final symbolic gesture of their togetherness. Finally she forced herself to break free and head for the door.

  “I will try to sneak in again sometime soon, Thomas,” she said falteringly. “But please know that you are never far away from my thoughts, and you always remain in my heart.”

  As she closed the door behind her, she wiped the tears that were now furiously spilling down her face. With the door firmly shut behind her, she started to softly tiptoe her way down the corridor. She was nearly at the end of the hallway when she was forced to stop, for standing in her path blocking her way was none other than Gailey Gobbstopper.

  “Oh, just you wait until I tell Uncle Boritz,” she said with an amused smile that betrayed her utter delight. “You are in so much trouble now!”

  Chapter 9

  GOOD-BYE, THOMAS

  TT WOULD BE less than a fortnight later when Polly and the other children were ordered to go quickly to Uncle Boritz’s study. A family meeting was about to take place. Polly wrongly presumed that this time she knew what dastardly crime had been committed—being caught in the boys’ dormitory visiting Thomas. She had known then that Gailey Gobbstopper’s threat to tell on her would never remain as just a threat. The thought of being rewarded with sweets was too great an opportunity for Gailey. At least this time Polly would not step through the door totally unaware of what might take place. She therefore took in a deep breath and braced herself for the coming ordeal.

  With all the children accounted for, the meeting for once took place on schedule. Polly had only been in the study a short while when she found herself feeling quite disturbed inside, for the atmosphere seemed different—a little too eerie for her liking. Why she felt as she did was something of a mystery, for nothing was out of place. The typewriter still stood central on Uncle Boritz’s desk, and mail was stacked up beside it. Pitstop was, as usual, hauntingly close to his master’s side with buckets of slimy drool hanging from his large jaw. Aunt Mildred was, as usual, sitting close by, very prepared with her hanky out and ready for use when duty called. So what was different? All she knew was she felt very uneasy.

  After what seemed an eternity, Uncle Boritz moved away from behind the desk and slowly came to stand in front of the children. He seemed strangely nervous. “Yes, very edgy,” thought Polly to herself.

  “Kiddiwinks,” he said in a very different and quite subdued tone. “I have some very bad news to tell you all. That’s if bad is the right word to use concerning the matter that I need to bring to your attention.” He then fell silent.

  Polly felt puzzled. He never ran out of words, and if he did, he usually had no problem making them up! Uncle Boritz coughed before proceeding. “There is no easy way to tell you this, and I am seriously struggling to put the news in such a way as to make it palatable enough for you to digest.”

  “Are you about to ration our food?” Cecil Bogswater anxiously asked. For he was most eager to get the meeting over with and get back to watching football on the television, especially as Manchester United was playing Liverpool, and nothing should come in the way of this.

  “Surely it can’t be that, can it?” interrupted Tommy Pulleyblank, “for we are already on half rations! Uncle Boritz, you told us that the last cuts would be enough to save the orphanage from being closed down. So please tell us now that this is not going to happen,” he wailed, looking very glum.

  Uncle Boritz still remained silent and deep in thought as he paced up and then down the line of very edgy and anxious children sitting cross-legged on the floor beneath him. Pitstop followed his movements, softly padding behind him, feeling quite dizzy due to his master’s somewhat erratic pacing! Aunt Mildred, hanky in waiting, decided to help her husband since he appeared to be struggling to express himself.

  “Pay attention, children!” she ordered. “The bad news is simply that Thomas has passed away. There, I’ve said it. It’s now out in the open.”

  There was a stunned silence. No one had any idea what to say next, and strangely enough, this included Polly, for she had fainted. With that terrible piece of news she had simply slumped into a heap on the floor.

  The children remained seated with their eyes directed on Polly. None of them had ever seen someone faint, so they wrongly presumed that she also had dropped dead! No one moved a muscle to help her, with the exception of Pitstop, who cautiously left his master’s side. Like a vulture swooping on its defenseless victim, he went to investigate this rather unusual and untidy piece of meat that lay prostrate and motionless on the floor. He had hoped it was a very generous gift of a juicy sheep’s head for him to gnaw, so he was most disappointed as he sniffed and slobbered over the heap on the floor, only to discover it was none other than smelly old Polly Brown.

  Uncle Boritz remained seated and most quiet, merely observing the situation. Minutes passed before he stood up and reached for his glass. He took a large gulp before throwing the rest of the water directly towards Polly. His aim was most successful. The cold water hit her face, and in just a matter of seconds she came round, moaning and rocking her head from side to side.

  “Sit up, girl!” he growled. “I am in no mood for any of your amateur dramatics today.”

  Polly tried to obey his order, struggling to remain upright, for her whole body felt completely numb and her heart felt as though it had just crashed like an elevator straight down into the pit of her stomach. She wanted to scream, but nothing would come.

  Uncle Boritz, having found his tongue, decided to take over all talk from Aunt Mildred. He deemed himself to be much more capable at presenting the determining factors than his dear wife, whom he believed was best suited to staying at home and cleaning the kitchen. After all was said and done, he had years of experience in and out of court at persuading people that black was white and white was black. He therefore considered himself to be quite the expert in this field.

  “Yes, sadly, I’m afraid to say he did indeed die some days ago,” he informed his shocked audience
.

  Polly could no longer hear what he was saying, for his voice seemed muffled. “Days ago?” a voice screamed inside her head. “Thomas had died days ago, and nothing had been said earlier?” She could not believe her ears. Neither she nor her little brother had been told. It was as though their feelings were not important. She believed it was a very heartless and cruel act to be told so bluntly, so matter-of-factly, without an ounce of human compassion toward her or her younger brother. She believed that out of decency alone they should have been told in private before the other children.

  Words could not express the depth of pain she instantly felt as her helter-skelter emotions went into free fall, leaving her sick in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to remove herself from the room and run until she could run no more. She wanted to run away forever from this hellish place called home! Instead, all she could do was make tiny whimpering noises that arose from a volcanic crater deep inside before escaping through her trembling lips. Her young body felt like a lump of lead, for she was so weighed down with the most unimaginable sorrow.

  Ignoring Polly’s continuing and very annoying little moans, Uncle Boritz went on to inform all the children that the funeral was arranged and would be taking place during school time, so there was no need for any of them to attend.

  “I know he was not the most popular child in the home, but I think we will still all miss him,” he said, almost choking on his words as he then paused to wipe the beads of sweat that were now dropping from his lined forehead. “I also think the best thing we can do now is try to put this sad event as far out of our minds as possible, and then it will make it much easier to move on and rebuild our lives. We will then become a much stronger and closer family than we already are.”

  Uncle Boritz scanned his young audience for any sign of rebellion to his little speech, and much to his relief, there was none. As for Polly, her thoughts and feelings were entirely irrelevant, for he could deal with her later and at his convenience.

  Polly looked over in James’s direction to see how he was taking the terrible news only to sadly note that he was staring into space, completely expressionless. Polly was quick to realize that this apparent lack of response was simply that he was too young and therefore incapable of taking it all in. She also thought it very cruel for her guardians to arrange for Thomas’ funeral to take place during school hours so none of them could attend. This was, after all, her beloved brother they were talking about! And yes, she realized that, like herself, he was unpopular, but why? Polly felt she knew the answer to that one.

  Though thoroughly shaken and dizzy, Polly managed to haul her limp body up from the floor. Then with a boldness that up to this minute she had no idea she possessed, she announced, “I’m sorry, Uncle Boritz and Aunt Mildred. I have no intention of ever upsetting you, but I beg you to reconsider and allow me to attend my brother’s funeral,” she cried, bursting into floods of tears.

  “Stop all this nonsense!” roared Uncle Boritz, extremely outraged by her impudence. “I have made it quite plain that none of you will be attending his funeral, for school and an education are of the utmost importance. Do you understand?”

  “No, I don’t understand. I want to go to the funeral! He was my brother, and I loved him. Please don’t do this to me. Let me go,” she begged.

  Uncle Boritz marched over to where Polly still stood, shaking from head to toe, and pushed her back down onto the floor.

  “How dare you defy me! And in such an outrageous manner! You ungrateful, miserable wretch! Do you think you can get away with challenging me in such an abominable way? Well, you’d better think again. Children, you can all see why Polly here will end up in prison one day. For not only does she constantly flout and challenge our authority, but she continually shows us all that she is indeed a defiant upstart, incapable of obeying a single order.”

  All the children sat motionlessly watching, so very upset with Polly for making trouble and upsetting Uncle Boritz and Aunt Mildred. It made them hate her even more than they already did.

  Polly, who now lay sprawled out on the floor, attempted to get back up on her feet. She felt like a boxer in the ring who, having suffered a severe blow to the head, determines to get back on their feet before the count of ten. After many attempts, she was successful, although she was now swaying to and fro as she struggled to remain upright. As she stood before her opponent, she mustered up the courage for one final act of defiance.

  “I’m not going to school, but I am going to his funeral!” she screamed, closing her eyes tightly as she did so.

  Before she could say another word, she felt a piercing pain on the side of her face before slumping for a second time back on to the floor.

  Uncle Boritz moved over to where a sobbing Aunt Mildred sat and placed his arms around her shaking torso, for she was so distraught at Polly’s disgraceful outburst that she needed to lie down and take her medication. The children that were seated on the floor remained motionless, for they too were equally shocked by Polly’s crazy outburst. And it only served to further convince them that Uncle Boritz was absolutely correct in his assessment. Madness really did run in Polly’s family! How much longer could poor Aunt Mildred and Uncle Boritz struggle on in their foolish attempt to control and help out this loony who seemed determined to make all their lives a misery. If it weren’t for her and her brothers, none of these family sessions would surely ever have to take place, and Aunt Mildred would not need to keep taking medication to control her bad nerves. It must be time for Polly to be removed and at the very least be taken to the local mental institution, if not prison, as their poor uncle had often and quite rightly suggested.

  Aunt Mildred sat in the seat sobbing and shaking with no amount of comfort from Uncle Boritz able to calm her down. How dare Polly behave in such a defiant manner when all they had been trying to do was pass on information to the children regarding Thomas’s sudden departure. It was bad enough that they would be expected to cough up the money and pay all funeral expenses, and then there was the inconvenience of organizing and attending the funeral themselves, for this would severely interrupt their busy schedules in the process.

  However, they could still see the bright side to all of this, for it conveniently served to give them the winning ticket. Aunt Mildred confidently knew, just as her husband also knew, there would not be a single child left who would choose to remain sitting on the fence after Polly’s disgraceful outburst. They would indeed all be rooting for Aunt Mildred, and this gave her a great sense of comfort and purpose. She knew it was now time to start bawling again, and the louder the better. Uncle Boritz joined in the pretense by throwing his arms up into the air to convey his total despair.

  “Children, I’m at my wit’s end. How can we all put up with this for a moment longer? Just look at poor Aunt Mildred. She is in the most terrible state of distress, and this has, as usual, all been bought about by Polly,” he said, furrowing his brow to show his deep concern as he patted his wife’s shoulder in his bid to comfort her. “Children, as you continually bear witness, this girl lives, day in, day out, to create utter chaos.”

  He then carefully removed his glasses and wiped both eyes with a hanky, shaking his head. He then systematically cleaned both glass lenses. This little action served to point out that Polly’s temper tantrum had even reduced him to tears, and he was a man not usually given to displays of emotion.

  “How can Polly do this to us all?” he asked, his deep voice cracking as he continued on with the pretense of struggling to contain his deep distress. One-by-one the children began to cry, for it was all too much for them to bear. They were now frightened that Polly had, on this occasion, pushed things too far. It might even mean that they would all have to leave the orphanage, for it appeared that Aunt Mildred was clearly tinkering on the verge of a nervous breakdown, thanks to sniveling, smelly Polly Brown.

  Uncle Boritz turned and glared in Polly’s direction.

  “You, young lady, are going nowhere!” he seethe
d. “How dare you even think that you can defy us in such an outrageous manner!” Uncle Boritz knew he needed more ammunition if he was going to win this one, and thankfully he had it! “Furthermore, I have yet to bring up the subject of quite what you were doing sneaking into the boys’ dormitory, which you most definitely know is strictly out of bounds and therefore forbidden.”

  Polly, who was still lying incapacitated and sprawled out on the floor with her head spinning, felt unable to answer his question, for it had taken her off guard that Uncle Boritz should change the subject so completely. Surely he must realize that there was nothing sinister in her going to the boys’ dormitory, even if she had been wrong in breaking the strict code of the castle on this one occasion.

  Uncle Boritz, never one to miss an opportunity, seized this moment to twist the truth in his favor.

  “Well, well, you horrid little misfit. I would like to suggest that you were rummaging through the boys’ most precious possessions looking for something to steal,” he sneered.

  Polly still remained lost for words, shocked that he could suggest such an act of wickedness on her part. As she lay on the floor, she made several attempts at sitting up, but found that she couldn’t. Her whole body felt like a set of dumbbells. Not only was she completely paralyzed with fear, but also her emotions were now on a very high roller coaster. “How could they make such wicked and utterly false accusations, and at such an awful time as this?” she thought as she attempted to stop herself from shaking. However, she knew, as history had always told her, that she had no hope whatsoever of proving herself innocent.

  They had spent years branding her a liar and a thief, to the point where she almost believed it herself. So no amount of protestation on her part would make the slightest bit of difference. There would, as usual, be no one on her side. There would be no supporters or mediator to stand in the gap and get the true facts. She was out on a limb and fighting for her life with the term innocent until proved guilty totally reversed!