Polly Brown

by Tricia Bennett

  As the children huddled around her, holding on to her every word that was dutifully interpreted by Ricardo, their sad, pain-filled eyes began to sparkle like diamonds, and Polly felt a real sense of hope and purpose returning to light up the heart of each and every child that was present in the cell. As news travels very fast in such places, it was not too long before there was not a man, woman, or child in the prison who had not heard Polly’s story. They too longed to visit Piadora and meet Ralph and Hodgekiss. When crushed lives know nothing but the deepest sense of despair, any glimmer of hope is worth hanging on to.

  As the women sentenced to work in the laundry room boiled linen in large metal drums and scrubbed bed sheets with their painful and sorely cracked hands, they huddled together and whispered of Hubber Blubber and Hoolie Koolie trees, as well as all the other amazing things Polly had told the children. Likewise, the shackled and broken-spirited men forced to labor under the intensely fierce heat of the sun breaking up the ground and concrete found themselves humming Polly’s song. Even the hardest and vilest of men held prisoner on death row found it quite a catchy little number that rather surprisingly raised their spirits. There was not one prisoner who, having heard her story, did not long with all their heart to visit Piadora and see for themselves what a wonderful place it was.

  What troubled Polly most was the realization that virtually all of the children were incarcerated for stealing food, something she considered to be absolutely crazy. She also discovered that all of the children had two big dreams: to be granted an education so they could change their lives forever and to be back with their mothers and fathers. Sadly, most of the children believed that both dreams were well-and-truly beyond their grasp and verged on the impossible.

  Polly experienced the depths of their anguish, for she too knew the depth of pain that struggling through life brought, especially when coupled with the absence of love and nurturing that comes from belonging, something so many seemed to take for granted. She therefore determined in her heart that she would never forget these precious little ones, and she would try to work harder at school. Then maybe—just maybe—one day she would find herself in a job that gave her enough clout to be able to change the lives of these poor souls once and for all. In the meantime, if she ever made it to Piadora for tea, she would tell Hodgekiss and Ralph of all she had seen and experienced and maybe they could do something to help. She certainly hoped so.

  Chapter 24

  I SAY, ANYONE FOR TENNIS?

  BY THE TIME Polly’s week of imprisonment was finally at its end, she found herself very reluctant to leave the prison and the children. The squalid conditions which she had endured over the past week could only be described as horrendous. But she had also experienced the deepest acceptance she had ever known, and to Polly that was worth any amount of discomfort.

  Ricardo was waiting outside the prison the day she was released, ready and willing to take her back to the favelas before she got herself into any more trouble. He felt that there was a high probability of that happening, for he had come to know Polly and her little ways.

  Polly kept Ricardo waiting for quite a while as she hugged each tear-stained cheek, her final child being little Pedro. She looked into his eyes and promised to do all she could to help him and all his other companions in misery. As she gave him a final hug and told him that she loved him, she vowed she would never forget any of them—never!

  It was therefore with the greatest reluctance that she finally boarded the bus that had pulled up outside the prison. Once on board she sat with her face glued to the window as the big black gates of the institution were firmly shut and locked. She felt deeply sad and knew she would miss her newfound friends, but then she thought of poor Captain Plimsol and his two lovely hostesses, Amanda and Annabel, who had been kept waiting, and she very much hoped they would forgive her for her over-extended stay in Brazil.

  On the bus, Ricardo handed Langdon back to Polly, for she had left him with Ricardo for safekeeping. She had to admit that she was extremely glad Langdon had been spared the same atrocious treatment she had received since her arrival at the prison. She hugged Langdon closely to her and, stroking his fur, promised never to be parted from him again. Polly then sat back in her seat and had a little catnap.

  When she finally woke up, she found herself back in one of the poorest districts of Rio de Janiero. She then changed buses and boarded one that was heading for the airport.

  As she said good-bye to Ricardo and thanked him for all his help, a crowd gathered. It appeared as though the whole town of the poorest people had turned up most impromptu to say good-bye to Polly, the strange young English girl with the blue elephant.

  The bus driver grew most impatient as Polly attempted to hug each person and not leave anyone out. The only trouble was the gathering crowd was growing larger by the minute, making it quite impossible to give everyone her little personalized hug good-bye. She was eventually left with no choice other than to give a final wave before going in search of a vacant seat for Langdon and herself. This was much to the relief of the anxious bus driver, who was beginning to sweat profusely, for he had a timetable to keep to and really did not wish to lose his job.

  As the bus driver started the engine and then drove off, Polly continued waving until the crowd had become little more than tiny dots on the horizon. She then sat back and once again closed her eyes. As she thought back to all the suffering and hardship she had witnessed, the tears began to silently flow. She vowed that if ever she was in a better position to do anything, she would not hesitate to help these poor and desperate people.

  Soon the bus pulled into the airport terminal, and Polly headed toward her plane with Langdon neatly tucked under her arm for safety. She was met on the concourse by Amanda and Annabel, who boarded the plane alongside her, taking her all the way down the aisle until they reached her seat.

  “Come on, Polly, have you had a great week?” asked Annabel, who was all ears and wanting to know every detail of how the week had gone.

  “Yes, Polly, tell all. Come on, spill the beans, for we’re both dying to know,” chipped in Amanda.

  Polly found herself incapable of answering them, so troubled and burdened was her little soul by all she had seen and witnessed in her short time in Brazil. The lovely hostesses were most surprised to note that she had not returned to the plane laden with packages and shopping bags, as most of their clients usually did.

  “Why, Polly, where are all your shopping bags? We were both looking forward to seeing what you bought. So come on, where are all the snazzy new shoes and funky jewelry? Where are you hiding them?” Amanda quizzed.

  Polly felt embarrassed at her sad disposition and feared that the lovely ladies would mistake her silence for ingratitude, so she asked to be excused and headed for the restroom. As soon as she had locked the door from the inside, she sat down on the toilet seat and wept mainly through frustration as she wondered what on earth she could do to help all these people, for their pain had now become her pain. Eventually there was a knock on the cubicle door. It was Amanda.

  “Polly, are you all right?” she called out with great concern. There was no reply. Amanda knocked on the door for a second time. Still no reply.

  Amanda decided to try one more time in the hope of getting a reply, for she could not understand what, if anything, could possibly be wrong. Finally Polly answered, much to Amanda’s relief.

  “No, I’m not all right, Amanda, and I don’t think I will ever be right again,” announced Polly through the closed door.

  “Are you feeling ill, Polly?” Amanda quizzed, “Do you need an aspirin? I can get some from the cupboard. We have plenty on board.”

  “Thanks, Amanda, but I feel there is no pill on this earth that will help me at this time,” replied Polly most disconsolate.

  “Shall I get Captain Plimsol to come and have a word with you?” suggested Amanda.

  “No, I don’t think he can help either,” stated Polly wearily.

&n
bsp; “Well, please come out, Polly, for we are all very concerned for you.” Amanda pleaded as she placed her ear close to the door in order to hear Polly’s reply.

  It did not come. Amanda, nervous of the silence, decided she had better call on Captain Plimsol and get him involved, for she believed Polly would listen to him. After all, she and her hostess friend Annabel hung on to every word that came forth from the darling captain’s mouth, so he was their best bet.

  She therefore left the cabin and headed for the cockpit to inform the utterly gorgeous captain of her troubling predicament. Captain Plimsol, on hearing that Polly had locked herself in the restroom and was refusing to come out, left his seat to sprint quickly down the aisle in the direction of the locked cubicle. He stopped outside and gave the door a loud knock.

  “Hi, Polly, this is Captain Plimsol. I hear we have a problem.”

  “We most certainly do,” Polly retorted.

  “Well, I can’t help you unless you tell me what is going on,” said Captain Plimsol, jogging on the spot as he spoke, for keeping the blood flowing nicely around his body was of the utmost importance to him.

  “Well, Captain Plimsol, I have just witnessed some of the most terrible suffering I have ever seen, and I can’t just leave Brazil pretending that I never saw it,” she mournfully replied.

  “Oh Polly, trust me when I say that I really do understand,” said Captain Plimsol. “It is all very sad, but quite what can be done about it? I don’t have the answer to that one, for the problem is seemingly insurmountable,” he said with a heavy heart as he attempted to acknowledge Polly’s deep concern. “Yes, if we came up with anything to help them, it would be a mere drop in the ocean. As you probably realize, the problem is so widespread.”

  “Well, I don’t wish to appear rude, Captain Plimsol, for as everyone on board this plane knows, you really are a lovely man. But if everybody thought that way, then nobody would do anything, would they!” she said, feeling very disgruntled.

  “I agree, Polly, really I do,” admitted the good captain, “but what exactly are you thinking of doing?” he asked with a note of resignation in his voice, for he wanted to solve the problem as quickly as possible, then get back to the cockpit to make the necessary preparations for take off.

  “I’m glad you asked me that question,” Polly replied, “for I do have a few suggestions that I would like you to consider. Firstly, how about arranging for a consignment of food and clothing to be taken into the poor districts every week? Secondly, I would like you to find a compassionate human rights lawyer for Pedro and all his companions in the prison. Thirdly, I would very much like to become a member of the parole board to make sure justice is carried out for all the children who are confined within its walls.”

  “Is that it?” asked the captain as he anxiously wiped his forehead and repositioned his hat.

  “Yes, I think that will do for now, but if I come up with anything else, I will let you know.”

  “Well, that’s very decent of you, Polly,” replied the captain, slightly tongue-in-cheek.

  “I can probably organize the first request, Polly, but I’m not too sure about the other two,” he said in his attempt to appease her.

  “Well, that’s just not good enough,” retorted Polly from behind the closed door, “for I cannot leave Brazil without doing more to help my friends.”

  “Polly, you need to hear me out when I say that I never negotiate with little terrorists,” said Captain Plimsol, by now feeling pretty fed up with Polly’s defiance. “In fact, if you persist in remaining locked away inside this cubicle, I will be left with little choice other than to call in the SAS for their assistance.”

  “Good,” retorted Polly sullenly. “I look forward to meeting Colonel Slaughterhouse again, if only to hear what he has to say on the matter.”

  “Look, Polly, we are all doing our best to help you, so please try to be reasonable,” pleaded the patient captain. “I’m sure you realize that Colonel Slaughterhouse has better things to do with his time than to storm this plane to rescue the crew from your unreasonable demands. Come on, Polly, you know that the colonel loves action, and I’m fairly certain that if you continue this standoff, you will sooner or later discover that you have bitten off a lot more than you can chew.”

  “I don’t care,” Polly shouted back angrily. “I can’t turn my back on those poor little defenseless children, so Colonel Slaughterhouse can do his worst, for I’m not opening the door until my demands have been fully met—and within a specified time frame.”

  “Oh, and what time frame is that, Polly?” the very frustrated captain asked.

  “Now, how would I know the answer to that? I mean, what amount of time do terrorists usually give as they wait to have their demands met?” Polly replied, a little too snottily for the captain’s liking.

  Captain Plimsol gave a deep sigh, for he could see he was getting absolutely nowhere with Polly. It was therefore with the greatest of reluctance that he abandoned his efforts to talk her out of her standoff. So it was with a resigned spirit that he turned and sprinted back to the cockpit in order to make contact with the colonel. He hoped that the SAS would do a better job than he had managed in talking some sense into her. After all, they were highly trained in the art of negotiating, whereas his skills lay more in flying planes and thrashing friends at the odd game of tennis.

  Polly was locked away for what seemed an eternity before there was a knock on the cubicle door.

  “Polly, this is Colonel Slaughterhouse. I hope you will talk to me, old sport, for I have come a long way. Yes, I was in the middle of a good piece of the action, with smoke grenades going off all around me, when I took Captain Plimsol’s emergency call. So you had better be willing to talk to me, old chap.” He paused for a moment as he waited for her response. Nothing! “Polly, I’ve also brought Corporal Beanpod with me, so if you would prefer to speak to him, please just say so.” Still there was no response from Polly. “Look here, old girl, you can’t stay forever in this rather small and confined space. So why don’t you just open the door, and then we can all have a good hearty chat over a nice cup of tea. How about it, old sprout?”

  Polly reluctantly caved in, for the thought of a nice cup of tea did seem a rather good idea, as she privately conceded that she was extremely thirsty. Moments later, she slowly unbolted the door and emerged, looking decidedly sheepish from the small cubicle.

  Colonel Slaughterhouse was both delighted and disappointed at the same time. Delighted that the siege was well-and-truly over without incident, and disappointed that he had not been given the opportunity of even pulling a pin from a smoke grenade, for he did so enjoy action. Still, at the end of the day he had to admit that he was very relieved Polly had not put up a fight, for privately he had a soft spot for the little whippersnapper, and he did so admire her steely determination.

  Amanda and Annabel hurried off to make a pot of tea while the good colonel, along with Corporal Beanpod, sat and listened to Polly’s long list of grievances. After much tea and an equal amount of negotiation, it was agreed that Polly’s first and second demand could be fulfilled. Her third demand, however, was impossible to fulfill at this present time, and the colonel was happily able to make Polly see reason over this demand. He advised her to wait until she was much older, and therefore much wiser, before becoming involved on the political world, for she would need great wisdom if she was to take on the many unjust social issues that went on not only in Brazil, but sadly all around the world. Polly wisely agreed to heed their advice and settle for her first two demands being met. She then apologized to the colonel for causing so much trouble.

  “Apology accepted, old sprout,” said Colonel Slaughterhouse with a big grin, as he gave Polly an “old boy’s” slap on the back with such unintentional force that it caused some of Polly’s tea to spill from her cup.

  “Yes, don’t mention it, old bean,” echoed Corporal Beanpod, “Now that everything’s happily sorted, is there any possibility of gettin
g a bungee jump in while we’re still here?”

  “Bungee jump? Did I hear you right? You want to go bungee jumping?” said Polly, feeling miffed that Corporal Beanpod would ask such a thing after all her intense and seriously sensitive negotiations.

  Colonel Slaughterhouse roared with laughter. “Oh Polly, what Corporal Beanpod is really asking for is a banana split dessert. It’s our favorite treat in the regiment, well, next to Mrs. Beeton’s brandy-soaked Christmas pudding.”

  “Banana split!” echoed Polly.

  “Yes, that really is Beanpod’s favorite,” the Colonel wickedly confided. “Yes, it’s made with a nice ripe banana, sliced in two, with a scoop each of chocolate and strawberry ice cream, topped with lashings of whipped cream and chocolate strands. He really is rather greedy and impertinent to make such a request,” said the colonel, furrowing his brow playfully to show his disapproval. “Especially when I have noted that he has already downed two rather large slices of Victoria sponge and polished off the last chocolate éclair,” he chortled loudly.

  Polly began to laugh, not because Corporal Beanpod had the impudence to ask for a bungee jump banana split, but because she found Colonel Slaughterhouse’s raucous and spontaneous fits of laughter so infectious.

  Amanda, not wishing to appear rude, offered to bring the colonel a bungee jump as well.

  “Thank you, but no thank you, my dear,” replied the colonel, stroking his upturned whiskers. “If I eat another thing, I will have no room for tonight’s supper of meatloaf. Now that’s what I call real food. Yes, real gut-busting, wind-breaking nosh that fills me up a treat, old girl.”

  Seconds later Corporal Beanpod was tucking into a rather large bungee jump, but not before he was again further reprimanded by the colonel for being so greedy.