Polly felt as though her heart was well-and-truly going to break as she allowed the children to guide her through the narrow streets filled with pain and deep misery. Such was her distress at all she was witnessing that day. As she toured the area, the crowd that followed her began to swell in numbers. It was not too long before she found a young boy in the crowd named Ricardo who had a reasonable smattering of English. Polly was delighted at this news, for it made understanding their sad and often painful stories much easier, although as she sat and listened to their harrowing stories, she felt she could hardly bear to hear any more. Just like Polly, these dear and poor people felt helpless, yes, utterly powerless to change their lives. Polly was told that the Brazilian government had partnered with Paraguay to build the largest dam in the world, and that although it provided 25 percent of all Brazil’s electricity and had cost them billions, not one of these dear souls stood to benefit from this luxury. They still sat in the dark and dank squalor of their shacks wondering how on earth to feed and clothe themselves.
Ricardo then took Polly to the house of one of his friends. Polly assumed that this hunchbacked, wizened old lady was in her sixties and was therefore very surprised to learn that she was actually only in her late thirties. This dear lady lived in a small pig barn with her two young daughters. Her son, Ricardo informed her, was in prison. Polly was most curious to know why her son, whose name was Pedro, was imprisoned. Had he murdered somebody or robbed a bank? Ricardo forced a faint smile at Polly’s line of questioning.
“Oh Polly, he has done neither. Little Pedro is only nine years old, and he was caught stealing food to feed his mother and sisters, as well as himself.”
“How long has he been in prison?” Polly asked Ricardo, for she was deeply saddened by all she had heard.
“Well, it must be getting on for nearly a year,” Ricardo replied, turning to talk in Portuguese to the wizened old lady just to confirm he had given Polly the correct facts.
“A year!” said Polly, visibly showing how shocked she was.
“Yes, it’s almost a year, and today this lady must go to the prison and sit before the prison board to hear if her son has reformed enough to be allowed out.”
“Well, I must go with her,” announced a most determined Polly.
Later that afternoon Polly arrived at the prison gates with Pedro’s mother and Ricardo. They were kept waiting for what felt like an eternity before they were ordered to come through and take a seat at the end of a very large and long table.
Polly felt most uncomfortable, as did her two companions, for although you could hear a pin drop there was a distinct air of officialdom pervading the room. Sitting at the other end of the very long table was a most severe woman with grayish hair scraped up tightly into a bun and thin round spectacles perched precariously on the end of her rather long nose. She acknowledged their presence with little more than a dismissive nod. To both her left and to her right sat four equally officious gentlemen who also appeared not to notice their presence in the room. They were deep in conversation and stopped only to take the odd puff from their thick cigars. The air in the room quickly filled with thick clouds of smoke that caused Polly’s eyes to water and made her cough. Even this did little to draw attention to their presence in the room. The spectacled lady continued to shuffle her very important papers, occasionally peering over her glasses in Polly’s direction. It all felt so intimidating and somewhat frightening to Polly and her humble companions.
Polly gave the mother’s hand a supportive squeeze to reassure her that she was not on her own. She then took a deep breath and reminded herself that fear was a thing of the past. She was here to support the dear, wizened mother of Pedro, and reminded herself that she had much experience of meetings of this nature thanks to the family sessions in the orphanage.
Within minutes a small, frail boy with the deepest sad eyes and shock of black hair was brought into the room, flanked by hefty prison officers on both sides, lest he should stupidly try and escape. He was ordered to hold out both his arms in front of him, and once he had obeyed this order one of the officers then produced a key and began to unlock the handcuffs from around his tiny wrists. Polly caught Pedro’s eye and gave him a smile. He made a faint smile back to her as he rubbed his sore wrists. He was then ordered to stand to one side and pay attention as a list of his offenses was read out by a most serious and rather snooty bespectacled lady. Pedro hung his head in the deepest of shame as the long list was solemnly read out to all present. “Oh boy, I’ve been here before,” thought Polly to herself as she sat witnessing poor Pedro’s utter demise.
Pedro’s mother sat in silence, her head hung uncomfortably low like that of her son. The officious-looking lady directed her attention to the boy and began to talk to him in his native language. As she spoke, his head appeared to hang lower than ever. Polly noticed his lips were trembling and tears were spilling down his cheeks.
“What is she saying?” Polly asked Ricardo.
“Well, Polly, she read out his list of crimes, and now she is telling him that the list of offenses is so very long, she is not entirely certain if he has spent long enough in prison to be truly remorseful. She then said she would have to discuss the issue with her colleagues before coming to any firm decision.”
“That’s crazy, Ricardo,” whispered Polly, “all he has done is steal food so that his family and he can survive. How can they possibly keep him from his family for a minute longer?”
“Well, Polly, they view such crimes as pure wickedness that must be dealt with most severely, and this prison is full of little boys who are guilty of the same offenses.”
“Well, it’s utterly disgraceful,” declared Polly. “In fact, it’s outrageous, and they should go on trial themselves for punishing these poor children in such a shameful manner.” She folded her arms as if making some statement of her contempt of the whole procedure.
“Shush, Polly, or they will hear you, and then you will be in deep trouble.”
Polly huffed and puffed in a most defiant manner as a full-blown discussion was held between the gray-haired lady and her board of governors. The officious gray-haired lady with the delicate wiry spectacles finally turned to the little boy and began to talk to, or rather to address, him. By now there was a small puddle of tears forming on the floor by the young boy’s bare feet. Polly wanted nothing more than to rush over and wipe away his tears, but she knew better than to follow her instinct.
“What is she saying now, Ricardo?” asked Polly most urgently.
“She is telling him that he is a very bad boy who has bought great disgrace on his family,” Ricardo replied.
“Absolute nonsense!” shouted Polly very angrily.
The officials turned and stared in Polly’s direction, for although they did not understand quite what she had just shouted, they had been rather rudely interrupted and were quite rightly most offended. Ricardo, who was just as startled by Polly’s untimely outburst, turned to Polly and suggested that she remain quiet, otherwise she might be forcibly removed from the room by little Pedro’s rather hefty prison wardens.
“Look, Polly not only could it make things worse for Pedro, but they might throw you in prison as well for contempt,” he said, pleading with her to see reason. “Polly, he could end up getting extra months added to his sentence if you offend them any further than you have already,” he added anxiously.
“Well, let them be offended! They need to be offended,” replied Polly, completely ignoring Ricardo’s request to stay out of it and remain calm. “I cannot stand and listen to this utter balderdash another minute longer, for the whole situation is just as farcical as some of the trials I have been put through,” she responded loudly and most defiantly.
“Please be quiet for Pedro’s sake, Polly,” urged Ricardo, getting more agitated by the moment, his voice becoming more anxious than ever. Polly reluctantly agreed and sat back, taking a deep breath in order to help herself remain calm.
Finally, young Pedr
o was instructed by the officious lady with the spectacles to hold his head up and pay attention so that she could inform him of their unanimous decision. As she peered down at the young boy with the sad eyes, neither her face, which was as set as stone, or her voice betrayed any emotion as she coldly informed him of the decision they had come to. Polly turned to Ricardo and asked him to explain to her quite what was happening and what their final verdict was based on.
“Well, sadly, Polly, they have decided that he needs another six months in prison to remind him of the severity of his crimes.”
Polly could contain herself no longer, “HIS CRIMES?” she shouted angrily, before yelling, “This court is an absolute sham, and they are the guilty ones, not poor Pedro. Yes, they are guilty of one of the biggest crimes against humanity by keeping this poor child here and away from the love and care of his family. No, this definitely is not right, there has been no justice served here today,” she stated very angrily. “Ricardo, help me. I need to challenge their decision, please interpret for me.”
Ricardo was given no choice, as Polly rather roughly pulled him up from his chair by the neck of his T-shirt.
“Excuse me, madam, but I need permission to speak,” announced Polly in the direction of all the officials who had just started to get up from their chairs with the clear intention of leaving the room. “Come on, Ricardo. Translate for me,” urged Polly, at the same time knowing she would not accept no as an answer if he declined to offer his services as a translator.
Ricardo reluctantly obeyed, feeling he had little choice, for Polly seemed most determined to have her say. The officials stared in their direction before resignedly sitting back down on their seats, one man lighting another fat cigar in his bid to while away the time as well as control himself from showing the full extent of his outrage at this rude and rather rebellious little troublemaker who would pay dearly for her interference at this meeting.
Polly drew a breath, for in truth she had no idea what she was going to say. She had been given no time at all to rehearse any speech, so she did what she always did in such difficult situations; she launched into her Churchill mode and spoke from her heart, Ricardo reluctantly translating her words for the sake of all those present. Polly continued on, oblivious to the tension that was now building up in the room as the angry and understandably offended governors were forced to listen to this little upstart.
Having finally got their full attention, Polly turned and pointed at the frail mother who sat weeping into her hanky. With all hope having been drained away, she grieved that she would not be taking her precious, beloved son home with her to join his little sisters in their humble home.
Polly stood up and prayed for the right words to come forth.
“This poor woman has today lost a son. Yes, for the next six months she will be separated from her little boy, whom she loves with a passion and has not seen for almost a year. For her, his absence has already felt like a life sentence, which she is serving as well as Pedro. She has already suffered the shame of having her young son imprisoned, but she came here today praying for mercy and compassion and in truth she has received none.”
Polly paused, but not for too long, for she could see that they were anything but amused by her most rebellious challenge.
“I think the real truth is that no sentence you impose today will make any difference. Adding a further six months is very wrong too and will serve no purpose in making him a good boy as opposed to a bad one. Little Pedro here,” she said, pointing towards the frightened little boy with the sad eyes, “was in truth served a life sentence from the moment he arrived in this world to let out a whimper. Yes, his biggest crime was to be born at all. To be born into a family that has no hope or future and that can only survive by living on their wits—including stealing other people’s food—cannot and should not be viewed as some heinous crime that deserves such a hefty punishment.” Polly gathered her thoughts while Ricardo attempted to loosely interpret her message in as palatable a form as he could, for he knew her challenge would be very hard for the parole governors to swallow.
“Before you leave this room, I want to ask you one final question, and one which I hope you will have the courage and honesty to answer. If you were living in a hovel and your mother and two young sisters were starving, would you not do all in your power to help them? If that meant you had little choice but to steal food from those who have plenty, would you not seize the opportunity to do so? I can tell you that I too have at times been so hungry, but probably never to the level poor Pedro and his family have endured. And yes, I can honestly admit there have been times in the past when I resorted to stealing food,” Polly confessed, patting her stomach as she continued to address the stiff-necked and very unimpressed governors.
“I felt guilty, as I’m sure little Pedro here must also have felt, but I might add that the overwhelming desire to survive was placed by God inside all of us. There is surely a high probability that none of us would exist today if that were not the truth. Just as the animal kingdom, according to what my teachers tell me, is based on the survival of the fittest, so is the whole of mankind. I entreat you today, before you drive home to your comfortable, plush houses and sit down to eat a delicious and lovingly prepared meal, to consider just how blessed you really are. And as you prepare to sleep in your warm, comfortable beds, I ask you all: even if your bodies enjoy a restful slumber, can your consciences sleep soundly knowing that this poor lady and her children have no bed to sleep in, and that she and her family will therefore have to ignore the deepest of hunger pangs before the luxury of sleep ever comes to them? Please, please if you have any heart in you at all, I beg you to change your mind and let this poor boy go free to be reunited with his family.”
With all said and done, Polly wiped away the tears that were now tumbling down her cheeks before slumping back down in her seat. Ricardo gave her a hug, for, despite being uncomfortable and afraid at being her interpreter, he was glad to have been of service. He felt proud of her moving and impassioned speech, and though he hated to admit it, it had brought tears to his eyes as well.
However, this was not the case as far as the governors of the board were concerned. There was not a moist eye among them as they sat most straight-faced, for they certainly did not share Ricardo’s feelings regarding Polly’s emotional appeal. No, they were incapable of that! They instead, felt nothing short of outrage and disgust that she should have the audacity to challenge their humanity. Who on earth did she think she was to think that she had the right to address them in such an unbelievably rude manner? Yes, their pride was sorely wounded, and it would take many weeks, and probably much counseling, before their confidence would be fully restored, enabling them to continue their important jobs as governors of the prison parole board.
The bespectacled lady arose slowly from her chair and ordered the prison officers to come forward before shouting an order to them in Portuguese. With her order given, the hefty wardens moved over towards Polly, and before she knew what was happening they had her firmly in their grip and stood ready to frogmarch her out of the room. Ricardo shouted out in Polly’s direction.
“Polly, you have just been sentenced to a week’s imprisonment for your insulting outburst. And don’t say anymore or they will put you in complete isolation!”
Before Polly could call back to Ricardo, she was forcibly removed from the room, something that gave the governors great comfort as they watched on before turning to stroke each others’ bruised and damaged egos with words of deep consolation. Seconds later the hefty guards returned to make sure Ricardo, as well as Pedro’s mother, left the prison without further incident. Then Pedro too was taken back to the squalid cells to continue his sentence along with the hundreds of other street children who lived without hope behind bars.
Pedro’s mother openly wept and struggled to remain upright as she was forcibly led toward the tall, imposing prison gates, wondering if she would ever see her son again! For sadly, she had heard many
horrific stories of what happened to the imprisoned children once the lights went out!
Polly, on the other hand, was dragged kicking and screaming down the long, dimly lit corridors and then down some steep steps before a door was unlocked and she was thrown inside. As she picked herself up from the floor, she found herself surrounded by hundreds of curious faces staring at her. Their eyes expressed both pain and concern. Again, Polly found herself unable to communicate with them, for they all spoke Portuguese. Just as before, it would not be too long before she overcame this difficulty, for not only did she experience the reality of the awful conditions the children were forced to endure, but she also heard their screams in the night. She could do nothing but pray that not only would her ordeal end, but all these little children would find some deliverance as well from their sad, wretched lives.
The week in prison was therefore spent hugging and wiping away the tears of many children who were lonely, very desperate, and also at the mercy of the prison guards. Polly wept much during that long and fear-filled week, and she prayed that one day she would be old enough and empowered enough to bring much-needed change.
Polly was very relieved when Ricardo turned up at the prison and was allowed to see her, even though it was only for a short time. She immediately had him working very hard translating between her and the children as each of them told their heart-rending stories of how they had come to be imprisoned. Many more tears were shed as each individual story was shared, and Polly could do little but console them as she listened on. She did, however, teach them her little song, “Give Me Love,” and she shared with them all about Hodgekiss and Ralph and her journey to Piadora.
Polly Brown Page 41