Polly Brown

by Tricia Bennett

  Both musicians gave in and once again picked up their instruments from the ground, for they were more than happy to oblige such an appreciative audience.

  Polly had never heard this song before, but as she listened to the words she began to tremble inside. By the time they got to a line in the song that referred to all her belongings making up just two carrier bags, Polly broke down completely as she thought of her mother and how she had died on the streets, alone, with one carrier bag as the only evidence that she had ever existed on this earth! Oh, how she missed this unknown woman, even though she could not remember a thing about her. She would have loved a photo, yes, just one little picture of her mother to treasure and place under her pillow at night. She could then have talked and felt close to her. Instead, she had spent years rocking her head violently from side to side as she cried out, “Mummy, I want my mummy!” until she finally fell asleep, which more often than not did not happen until the early hours of the next day.

  The music and singing tailed off as the travelers became aware of Polly’s deep distress. Morag rushed over and swept her up into her arms, saying, “There, there, little lamb. You’ll be all right. Yes, everything will be all right.”

  Morag produced a handkerchief and proceeded to wipe away Polly’s tears as she whispered words of great comfort in her ear. Polly apologized for her outburst, for she felt embarrassed and ashamed to have spoiled their wonderful time of singing.

  “Now stop that, young lady,” ordered Morag gently but firmly. “You must rid yourself of all this guilt and shame, Polly, for this garment was never intended for you. Oh no, it does not belong to you, and it never has.”

  All who had gathered around Polly agreed, most concerned for her welfare. But Polly was not listening, for shame was such a well-known and comfortable companion to her that she was not ready to give it a good hard kick, thereby booting it out of her life and heart once and for all. But all was not lost, for in that moment it dawned on her that although she had left behind the castle with its huge prison bars, she had still taken with her the iron bars that guarded and protected her tender heart, and she had no way of knowing how to break free of these ugly monsters. They had, after all, crept in most stealthily and taken her completely unaware, and now they acted like a fortress, hell-bent in their desire to keep her imprisoned.

  Morag decided that the best thing to do was sing another song to take Polly’s mind off this last song that had affected her so deeply. She turned to Polly and asked her if she knew a song about hope that she would like to sing. Polly did not think she did. She knew a song about the sinking of the Titanic that they sang in music lessons at school, but she felt that would make her cry more. Morag wholeheartedly agreed that that song was best left alone. Polly thought for quite a while before coming up with a suggestion that might do the trick.

  “Morag,” she said, sniffing a little as she spoke. “I do have a little song that I made up myself.”

  “Then let’s hear it,” cried Morag enthusiastically.

  “Yes, let’s hear it, Polly,” the ragamuffins in unison shouted.

  “The musicians will pick up the tune very easily, for they have trained their ears to do so,” Morag added.

  Everyone around Polly urged her to teach it to them. Polly showed some hesitancy, for she believed they might ridicule her song and consider it pretty pathetic. But in the end, her friends were so persistent that she threw caution to the wind and started to sing. In seconds, just as the musicians had promised, they joined in and the air was filled with such tender sweetness as bow touched string before touching cords in their hearts. It was as if the musicians had known and played the song for many years, but Polly knew that this was impossible, for she really had made this little song up all by herself!

  Give, give me love, ’cos that’s just what I need,

  I need real love, yes, the kind that never fails,

  You need it too, so we’ll go hand in hand

  Refusing to give up, as we travel unknown roads

  In search of our promised land.

  All those gathered around the fire clapped and encouraged Polly to continue singing, for they loved both the words and the music of her simple gentle song. Polly felt encouraged as all fear of rejection left her, so she sang louder.

  Give, give me peace, when my world comes tumbling down,

  The grace to cope, and find fresh hope

  As my troubles reach high ground

  You need it too, so we’ll go hand in hand

  And collect enough for both, from our promised land.

  Give, give me faith, to meet my every need,

  I need real faith, if I’m ever to succeed

  You need it too, so we’ll go hand in hand

  And collect enough for both

  From our promised land.

  By this point everyone was humming along or otherwise bringing out hankies from their pockets to stifle the deep pain that was threatening to engulf them if given permission, and would most certainly manifest itself in the form of plentiful tears.

  Give, give me joy, every minute of the day

  For without love, the faith, the peace,

  It won’t come my way.

  You need it too, so we’ll all join our hands

  And collect enough for all

  “All together now,”

  When we reach the promised land.

  Once the rag-tag travelers had picked up all the words and the tune, there appeared to be no stopping them, and they seemed happy to spend the rest of the night singing it over and over again. Polly felt deeply touched by this, but not as touched as all the travelers felt towards this young lady who had come into their midst and brought something with her. Quite what they were unable to put their fingers on, but they all knew without any discussion taking place between them that when she left their company there would be a hole that nobody else could fill.

  Polly stayed with the group until dawn broke. Ralph then told her that it was important for her to leave and go on her journey. Polly felt truly sad and was most reluctant to leave them behind.

  “Look, Ralph,” she said, “why can’t all these good people come with me to Piadora? They could all use a good meal. Please let me take them with me on my journey.”

  Ralph sighed before answering. He knew she would not find his reply easy to swallow.

  “I’m so sorry, Polly, for it is really kind of you to make such a nice suggestion. It’s just not possible.”

  “And why not?” retorted Polly, feeling quite rattled that Ralph had shown a complete lack of enthusiasm towards her rather brilliant suggestion. “Surely, you could at least ask them on my behalf, Ralph, for they have the right to make up their own minds as to whether to come or not.”

  “You’re right, Polly. They do have that right to make their own decision, and let me assure you that over the years all of them have more than once been invited by Hodgekiss to come to Piadora. But sadly, for all sorts of reasons, mostly personal and private, none of them have been able to face the journey.”

  “What? They refused to come? Even after they heard about the banquet?” said Polly showing great surprise, “That’s unbelievable!”

  “Yes, I know it sounds hard to believe, but it’s true to say that over the many years I have known them they have all declined many invitations to join us. And now my job is just to be a good friend and listener to them. I care deeply for each and every one of them, as does Hodgekiss. When we are not able to be here with all our good friends, well then, we do all we can to make sure they are looked after. One of my many tasks is to leave little parcels of food in the trash bins of all the places they frequent, but you must never tell them of this, for they might take offense. You must therefore keep this as our little secret.

  “Then, is that why there are never any stale cakes left over these days when I venture down to the cake shop?” Polly asked, looking Ralph directly in the face, for she wanted a straight answer.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,
” said Ralph rather sheepishly.

  “Oh Ralph, why on earth didn’t you tell me?” she said, suddenly feeling very guilty about her churlish attitude towards both of them.

  “The fish and chip shop, too?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid the chip shop, too,” he admitted, lowering his head as he went rather red in the face.

  “Well, that explains a lot then, doesn’t it?” said Polly, pretending to be a bit annoyed.

  She then broke out into a smile as she thought how disappointed she had been the last few times she had gone in search of the cakes, only to find there were none left. For she had wrongly assumed that greedy Ralph and Hodgekiss had bought up all the leftover cakes to devour all by themselves.

  “Don’t worry, Ralph. I don’t mind; really I don’t. Their need is much greater than mine, but I still wish you’d told me.”

  “I hoped you would see things that way,” Ralph sighed. “Talking of cakes, I saved some for you from my last visit to the shop. You will need something to keep you going; here, please take them.”

  Polly was grateful to Ralph and took the bag of cakes from him.

  “Can I please say good-bye to them all before I leave?”

  “Of course you can and must,” Ralph cheerily replied.

  Polly shook the hand of all who were still standing around the fire that now was little more than a pile of glowing embers. She also pulled off the jumper and tried to give it back to Morag, the bag lady.

  “You keep it, love,” Morag insisted, “for your need of it is probably much greater than mine. So just think of me whenever you put it on. It will do much to kindle the glow inside of you, me darlin’, so take great care. Promise me you will.”

  Polly nodded and then waved everyone good-bye as she walked away from the group of kind ragamuffins that still huddled around the glowing embers of the once-bright fire. She turned around for one final glance in their direction, and as she did, she felt a surge of love toward them all. Polly paused, and then without warning broke away from all her English reserve (not that she had much of that in the first place)! She raced back, rushing up to Morag and throwing her arms tightly around her to give her an overwhelmingly huge hug.

  “You take good care of yourself, too, Morag,” Polly whispered, her eyes glistening with tears.

  “Go on, poppet. It really is time for you to leave, or you’ll have us all in tears,” she said softly to Polly, her voice cracking as she spoke.

  Morag then hastily put her mitten-covered hand up to her eyes as she brushed away a tear that was flowing unchecked down her craggy, rosy cheek. “God bless you, darlin’ little Polly. And may He keep you safe from all harm,” she sniffed.

  Ralph, who was standing only a short distance from them, came over and took Polly by the hand to gently lead her away. Morag stood still, clutching her shabby shawl tightly around her as she waved Polly off.

  As she walked away, Polly experienced a deep sense of loss and sadness, but her loss was not as deep as that of the band of travelers. For despite having only just met her the previous night, there was not one of them who did not immediately feel the impact of her leaving. They would have many interesting conversations in the future as they huddled together around their fires discussing this brave young girl who went by the name of Polly Brown.

  Chapter 18

  POLLY’S NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCE

  RALPH INSISTED ON taking Polly to the bus stop. “I believe you need to get on the number seven bus, and it will be here very shortly,” he said. “It is the bright red double-decker one, so remember that, Polly. This is the bus that you must get on,” he insisted as he rummaged deep into his shabby trench coat pocket and pulled out a shiny silver sixpence.

  Ralph handed her the brightly colored coin, pressing it urgently into the palm of her hand. “You will need this for the fare,” he said, giving her a warm hug. He then looked into her eyes and promised to meet up with her again when she arrived in Piadora.

  Polly watched Ralph as he walked back down the dusty road until he disappeared from sight. Minutes later she saw a large red double-decker bus in the distance, with a large black number seven on the front.

  In no time at all she was safely on board and climbing the steep stairs of the bus. Upstairs on the bus was empty, so Polly had her pick of seats from which to choose. Soon she was comfortably seated with her schoolbag safely stowed in the overhead locker. She gave Langdon the window seat because she knew he would be bursting with excitement as he viewed the glorious English countryside from out of the large window. As it journeyed on, the bus cheerily wound its way down long winding lanes and over quaint little bridges that it had quite a struggle to squeeze through.

  Polly thought she was settled comfortably when she suddenly felt as though she was sitting on something rather lumpy. She wriggled around, and then stood up to look down at the seat to find out what was causing her discomfort. She was very surprised, if not alarmed, to see a large pebble mysteriously lying on the seat. Polly felt puzzled, for she was more than certain that the seat had been empty when she first sat down, and she was convinced that she would have noticed the stone’s presence on the seat before now. She picked it up to take a closer look and discovered that it was inscribed with the word compassion. Polly thought this was rather strange, but decided to keep it. So she pulled down her schoolbag and popped it safely inside. At the same time she decided that this might be an excellent moment in time to write something in her diary. She wanted to write down the names of all the travelers she had met around the camp fire so that she could always remember them. She also wanted to write something about leaving the orphanage and the feelings of fear she had faced. She delved into her schoolbag for her gold book and pen, and then sat back down to start writing. Polly found herself taken by surprise to discover that, just as before, the book had writing on the formerly clean pages. It had miraculously happened again!

  After the young and very inexperienced princess had made the difficult decision to leave the castle, she pretty soon found herself floundering. She had even wished for a daisy to make the decision for her. Now how crazy is that? Luckily, though, for some unfathomable reason, the door to the castle accidentally shut itself, leaving the princess with no other option than to begin her journey. Saying good-bye to all her friends had been quite a sad moment, but now she would discover new and very real friends—as well as enemies—as she made her way to Piadora. The princess was absolutely right, not to mention wise, to pray for guidance from above, for she would need all the help she could get along the way.

  Ralph gave the princess the wonderful opportunity of meeting some of his loveable ragamuffin friends, and she had found herself filled to overflowing with the milk of human kindness towards them. For the princess discovered that, like herself, they had their story to tell. Many of these outcasts had been abandoned as well as misunderstood by a society that saw them as nothing more than misfits to be shunned and despised for their contemptible lifestyle. And yet the princess was given the privilege of hearing firsthand what had caused their total demise and fall from grace, and her heart welled up with unflinching compassion towards them. These vagrants would really miss the princess, such was the impact of her care and concern for them. As she continued on with her journey she would soon find herself bumping into many others who also needed to know the same love and compassion she had shown to Mordecai and all the other battle-wearied travelers.

  For now, though, she could relax and just enjoy all the views of the glorious English countryside as she sat upstairs on the double-decker bus. It had also not gone unnoticed that she gave Langdon very preferential treatment by kindly offering him the window seat so that he could get the best view. She was indeed turning out to be a very gracious princess if ever there was one!

  Polly smiled and then stood up and put her pen and gold book back into her schoolbag for safekeeping. She only had the time to sit back down on her seat when the ticket inspector climbed the stairs and made his way toward her. />
  “Please, sir, may I have a ticket to go to the seaside,” said Polly, hardly able to contain her excitement.

  “Which one do you want?” the bus conductor asked, “for there are many bays on this particular route.”

  Polly pulled out her map and opened it up, pinpointing the place where she was meant to be going. The conductor adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses so that he could see more clearly. He followed her finger to the precise spot.

  “Ah yes, Banana Bay. I’ve never been there, miss, although I have heard of it, and it is supposed to be quite a nice place,” he said as he straightened his peaked conductor’s cap.

  “I’ve also heard that,” said Polly with a smile.

  “That’ll be sixpence altogether then, miss. Four and a halfpenny for your ticket and one and a halfpenny for your little blue friend,” he said as he wound the small dial on the peculiar machine that he had draped around his neck.

  The machine made a funny whirring noise before the tickets popped out. Polly handed over her shiny sixpence as soon as she received the tickets.

  “Have a good day then, miss, won’t you?” said the friendly conductor with a big smile.

  “I certainly intend to,” Polly replied.

  She then closed her eyes and thought back to her newfound friends that she was already sorely missing.

  How long Polly was on the bus is neither here or there. Luckily for her, she suddenly opened her eyes just in time to hear the conductor call out: “Attention everybody, this is the stop for Banana Bay.”

  Polly jumped up and collected her bag from the overhead storage space, and then with Langdon safely tucked under her arm, she made her way back down the winding stairs before stepping off the bus into the warm hazy sunshine.

  Polly took out her map and studied it, for she had every intention of getting to Piadora as quickly as she could. But as the sun shone so gloriously in the sky, she soon thought there would be no harm in going down to the beach and perhaps, if the tide was in, taking a quick swim. She therefore took the folded-up map, put it back inside her small gold book, and popped them both back into her schoolbag for safety. With this done she then headed with Langdon towards the promenade to choose a perfect place for them to sit down on the beach.