Being the opportunist that he was, he quickly discovered he could oppress and pressure the young princess into paying up. On discovering the large diamond that Polly kept in her pocket with the other engraved stones, Tobias really thought his big day had just arrived! Tobias even had the temerity to misquote an adage to the forlorn maiden, telling her that “God helps those who help themselves.” The cheek of it! He failed to finish his sentence, which then goes on to remind, “but God help them that are caught!” Just like Freddie, dear Tobias would be given ample opportunity over the coming years to reflect on his miserly and extraordinarily uncharitable ways.
However, all’s well that ends well. Dodo was taken to the hospital, and the princess, having paid up, was finally free to go on her way, but not before her acts of faithfulness had been recorded and awarded. For despite being a frail young maiden, she had chosen to stick with Dodo no matter what the cost, and that cost had become higher than ever when she was forced by Freddie to kneel in the mud and beg. The princess had shown herself to be a truly faithful friend, and such people are indeed a rare breed. Now she was very tired and in need of rest. The princess closed her heavy eyelids and fell asleep on the curb of the pavement. She had nothing to fear, for she was being looked after and watched over from above. She also had no need to worry about what tomorrow might bring, for it would indeed look after itself.
Polly’s sleep was deep and sound, and before long she found herself in the middle of a dream from which there was to be no escape. She only came around when she felt someone shaking her and calling out her name.
“Polly, wake up. Wake up,” insisted the voice that she instantly recognized. Polly half opened her eyes and looked up to see who was calling out her name.
“Ralph, you startled me!” she cried as she hastily struggled to sit upright.
Ralph put out his hand to steady her before giving her a smile.
“Oh Ralph, am I glad to see you,” she said with a faint smile. “I came to these crossroads and then realized I had no idea as to which fork in the road to take,” she sniffed. “And then I must have fallen asleep.”
Ralph patted her on the shoulder and then sat down beside her. “How is your little friend?” he asked.
“Which one are you referring to—Langdon or Dodo? If it’s Dodo he is recovering in the hospital. If it’s Langdon, well, he has not fared very well either,” she said, opening up her schoolbag and pulling out the remains of Langdon to show him the full extent of Langdon’s injuries.
“Oh dear, he does look a very sorry sight,” exclaimed Ralph. “How on earth did something as terrible as this happen?”
“Well, I am not too sure you’d believe me if I told you,” said Polly mournfully. “We ended up being taken prisoner by this frightful lady named Soogara who locked us up in the dungeon of a castle. It was really scary,” Polly confided. “And poor Langdon had the heaviest ball and chain around his neck, and then he was attacked by rats,” she sobbed.
Polly rummaged in her bag and finally produced the long length of his trunk that had become separated from the rest of his trunk. “See, Ralph?” she said, waving the bitten-off piece in front of his nose. “Poor Langdon has been through such a traumatic experience that I am not certain if he will ever really recover. It was all absolutely ghastly, I promise you.”
Ralph dug deep into his pocket and produced a sewing kit. “Give him to me, Polly, and let me see what I can do to fix him,” he said gently.
Polly then watched as Ralph sewed Langdon’s trunk back together again. He then stitched up all the bald patches on his rear end.
“There, perfect,” he declared triumphantly as he pulled the needle through for the final time. “Here, Polly, now Langdon is whole again.”
Polly took Langdon from him, and as she inspected his workmanship she found herself saying, “Ralph, I do declare that this stitching is invisible. In fact your workmanship is truly amazing! For Langdon looks perfect, as though nothing had ever happened to him. How can this be?”
Ralph shook his head and laughed out loud. “Oh Polly, I have had so many years on the road that my clothes regularly wear out and need attention. You could say I’ve become a little bit of an expert at the art of sewing and darning.”
Polly didn’t necessarily fully believe him, because as he was explaining his wonderful sewing abilities she could clearly see a number of his toes poking through his striped socks. She was so pleased, however, to have Langdon back in one piece that she dismissed any thoughts of challenging his explanation.
“Oh Ralph, you’re a really good man,” she said with a smile. “I cannot thank you enough for mending him for me, and so professionally!”
“Are you hungry, Polly?” Ralph asked.
“Absolutely famished,” admitted Polly.
“Good,” said Ralph. “Well, let’s head off to the Toggie Oggi Shack and get ourselves some hot food for our rumbling tummies.”
“Toggie Oggi Shack? What and where on earth is that?” Polly quizzed.
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough,” Ralph replied as he helped her up from the ground. “Now come on, Polly, let’s not waste any more time. My stomach is rumbling just thinking about getting my hands on some deliciously hot oggies.”
Polly picked up her bag and placed Langdon carefully on top of her other possessions before closing it up. She then linked her arm in Ralph’s and allowed him to lead her onwards to the Toggie Oggi Shack. As they walked and talked, Polly found herself feeling lighter and happier than she had been for a very long time.
“Ralph, I’ve heard of tiddy oggies. They are Cornish pasties and were made for Cornish tin miners. Their hands were so black and dirty that their clever wives filled pastry with meat and vegetables so that the miners could eat the filling and then throw away the pastry shell.”
“You’re absolutely correct, Polly, but toggie oggies are just as special, and they are my favorite dish. Just you wait and see.”
It wasn’t long before they were back at the crossroads, this time sitting comfortably on a bench and munching away.
“You’re quite right, Ralph. These taste really good,” said Polly, throwing all table manners to one side as she hungrily devoured the piping hot sausages in batter that had been wrapped up in old newspaper for them.
“These little oggies are so scrumptious that I make it my business to visit this shack whenever I pass by this way. But as soon as you’ve finished, Polly, I want to hear about everything that has happened to you,” said Ralph as he gave his mouth a wipe with a sheet of newspaper, leaving black print all over his mouth. Polly laughed and then took out a handkerchief to clean him up.
With their stomachs now satisfyingly filled, Polly went into the greatest of detail in her play-by-play account of all that had befallen her. She told him about Jessica, the little girl she had saved, and then she went on to tell all about her misunderstanding at the airport. “I ended up on the wrong plane, Ralph,” she moaned. “And I found myself on a plane surrounded by all these foul creatures that were planning to take me hostage, as well as the French president. Can you believe that?”
Ralph smiled.
“Polly, are you sure those terrifying creatures were not just your imagination or, worse still, a mirror image of the inner demons that you constantly struggle to conquer?”
“Ralph, I can’t believe you just said that,” cried Polly, deeply offended by his unacceptable explanation. “No, I promise you they were very real, and they had names like Craving and Despair and…”
“Well, Polly, I hate to say it, but don’t you suffer from the deepest of despair at times? And doesn’t it seemingly paralyze you and make you feel that life is not worth living?”
“Yes, that’s perfectly true,” admitted Polly. “But what about Craving? Where does he come into it?”
Ralph was cautiously slow to give an answer, but then with a twinkle in his eye, he replied. “Do you not crave love and attention, Polly?”
“Well, yes, but I beli
eve everybody wants love and also needs to be heard,” sniffed Polly.
“I agree with you there, and I think it is fair to say that life has indeed dealt you some terribly cruel blows that have created utter carnage in your life.”
“Carnage! Yes, that was the name of one of the hideous monsters on the plane,” she cried. “And I also remember one monster was called Binge. Oh Ralph, that little fellow was really scary,” she cried.
“Yes, I’m sure he was,” replied Ralph, at the same time placing his arm gently on hers. “Look, Polly, I am not here to judge or condemn you or for that matter to argue the toss as to whether those monsters did or did not exist,” he said, pausing to take a breath. “All I am saying here is that it is very helpful to look within ourselves for answers. For we all have our little monsters that try to take over our lives with the clear intention of bringing us down.” Ralph gave her arm another pat as he continued on. “Polly, once we have faced our own demons, then we are halfway there in dealing with them because then they can no longer run amok, ultimately ruining our lives. Can you see that?”
Polly looked decidedly forlorn as she silently nodded her agreement. She then turned and looked, very resignedly, directly into Ralph’s eyes.
“So, are you saying those disgustingly yucky and hairy slime-balls like Self-Pity could really be a part of me?”
“I’m not saying anything, Polly, for the truth is only you can answer that question. But let’s put it this way, have you ever thought of self-pity as a nice companion to have around? Or how about jealousy? Is that a nice characteristic? Do you like to spend time around others who are filled with anger and hate? And come to think of it, what about Deceit? Was he a lovely monster, or did he make you cringe?”
Polly remained silent as she experienced afresh the measure of heartache she had endured at the hands of Gailey.
“Yes, Polly, I too am thinking of poor, sad Gailey. For at the end of the day, ask yourself this: were her deceitful and cruel ways merciful and kind, or did they add to Thomas’s suffering as well as your own?”
Polly shook her head as fresh tears sprung to her eyes.
“Look Polly, if you could begin to understand why she behaves as she does, you will find it much easier to forgive her cruelty. Then you will come away the stronger of the two, for a lack of forgiveness is such a hindrance in getting to Piadora.”
Ralph kept a comforting arm around Polly as he continued to commune with her in the gentlest of manners. He knew that her fragile heart was finding these revelations pretty tough to address.
“Polly, I want you to come with me, for I have much to show you that I think will help you continue your journey.” He stood up and held his hand out for Polly to take hold of. “Come, we can continue talking as we walk.”
Polly placed her hand in his and allowed herself to be pulled up onto both feet. She then bent down and picked up Langdon and her schoolbag and allowed Ralph to direct her up the right-hand fork of the crossroads.
As they continued on their journey, Polly poured out her heart about all the poverty and suffering she had seen on her travels and how unbearable it all felt. She was powerless to truly help them. She then told Ralph all about her journey home on the Queen Mary, as well as the terrible, upsetting confrontation with Freddie Fruitless.
“Ralph, he called me some pretty despicable things,” she confided with the deepest of sadness. “He accused me of being nothing but a parasite. He said that my parents abandoned me because I was an unbearable little brat, and…”
“Oh Polly,” Ralph quickly cut in. “When will you learn that you were born to soar like an eagle, high above all the idle chatter and malicious gossiping of those with nothing better to do with their time? Such people remain like insignificant little sparrows, sitting on telephone poles communicating their salacious gossip. They know no better. You, on the other hand, were created for much greater things. So, rise above all such treachery, and don’t stop soaring until you reach and attain your goals, my precious one,” he said, stroking his beard as he gave her plight much consideration. “Anyway, where are the blinders and earmuffs that I gave you at the beginning of your journey?”
“Sadly, I think I’ve lost them, and I am fairly certain that happened when Mr. Mortimus emptied my schoolbag and then rummaged through my personal possessions looking for payment.”
“Hmm,” Ralph said while deep in thought. “Well, in the future you had better just shut your eyes and stick your fingers in your ears when you see or hear anything that you find discouraging.”
Polly dutifully nodded and then rather quickly changed the conversation. “Come to think of it, Ralph, where are we now going?” she asked, with more than a hint of curiosity.
“We, my dear, are heading for Gold Gulley,” Ralph warmly replied.
“Oh right,” was all Polly could find to say as he led her by the hand along winding dust tracks and over many grassy plains. Finally he stopped in his tracks and, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun, announced, “Yes, I think we are almost there.”
As they headed down into the gulley, Polly noticed a large sign that read Gold Gulley, with an arrow underneath to point the traveler in the right direction.
They walked slowly through the gulley, and Polly found herself speechless, for she did not know what to make of all she saw, and Ralph seemed more than content to remain silent, just giving her hand the occasional tiny squeeze.
As Polly surveyed the horizon, she found herself unable to contain her curiosity a moment longer. “Ralph, what on earth are you showing me all this for? And why is this place full of old rusty and abandoned ships and boats?” Ralph remained silent, which only served to provoke Polly into questioning him further.
“Please tell me why this place is called Gold Gulley when all I can see is a junkyard full of twisted, rusty wrecks that are most likely full of lethal contamination that could seriously affect our health? Come on, Ralph, be honest. Can’t you smell the stench from the rust?” she cried as she ran over to where the nose of one boat was all that remained above the ground, exposed to the elements. “Why have you brought me here?”
Ralph quickly came over to where she was standing, near the decrepit remains of what was once obviously a beautiful sailing vessel.
“Polly, one question at a time,” he said wearily. “You asked me why it was called Gold Gulley, and I would like to address that question first,” he said. “But not before we have paid a visit to a very dear and good friend of mine who lives and works in this little shack over there,” he said, pointing to a little run-down house in the distance.
Polly was about to protest, but changed her mind when she observed that Ralph had a serious look of determination written all over his wearied face. She therefore decided to stop all line of questioning and meekly follow him with Langdon safely tucked under her arm.
As they entered the tumbledown hut, they were met by an old wizened man with thinning, snowy white hair. He abandoned his melting pot to come over and welcome them.
“Polly, this is Mr. Shoestring, the smelter, and his job is to melt the precious metal down until it has been thoroughly refined.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Shoestring,” said Polly, putting out her hand toward him as she broke into a warm smile. She shook his frail hand and then instantly found herself overwhelmed by the heat.
“Ralph, it’s so hot in here that I can barely breathe,” she cried, wiping away the beads of perspiration that were now furiously trickling down her forehead.
“Forgive me, I hadn’t noticed,” he answered, slightly tonguein-cheek.
Polly then checked on poor Langdon. If she was finding the heat too much too bear, what about him? For he had a coat of thick fur to contend with! Luckily, Langdon seemed to be fine. Polly was quick to observe that neither of the men was the least bit phased by the intensity of the heat, so she was extremely puzzled and perplexed to note that she was the only one dripping with perspiration!
As if he could read h
er mind, Ralph smiled and answered her question, “Oh, young Polly, both of us are used to burning heat, for we have both been through the fire so many times that it can no longer harm us. Come and take a look at Mr. Shoestring’s melting furnace, and you can see for yourself what is going on,” he said, gently coaxing her nearer the furnace and its open white flame.
Polly reluctantly found herself moving toward the furnace. The nearer she got, the more she found herself recoiling. For the heat from the furnace was so intense that her face felt as though it was melting like wax.
Ralph stood at her side, supporting her arm as he pointed toward Mr. Shoestring, who was busily scooping out all the impurities from a humungous gold vat.
“Polly, my friend, all gold has to go through the refiner’s fire under the most intense heat until it goes from a solid form to liquid. Once all the impurities have been removed, it literally becomes see-through. Here, take a look. The purer the gold, the better the carat, and the more transparent it becomes.”
“Oh,” was all Polly could manage to utter before she felt the fierce heat burn into the back of her throat like a branding tong, causing her to feel right on the verge of passing out.
Ralph saw that she was struggling to stay upright and quickly guided her back outside for a breath of fresh air. Once outside, Polly was instantly relieved and took a deep breath, “Thanks, Ralph. I really thought I was about to collapse back in there,” she weakly stated.
Ralph gave her a supportive smile as he led her away from the hut in search of a suitable place to sit and talk.
“Polly, Gold Gulley is officially known as the ‘Graveyard of Lost Dreams.’ And it has, over many years, become the burial ground of plenty of inspirational ideas that never transpired because people gave up on their dreams ever being fulfilled.”
Polly Brown Page 56