Eventually the sun started to disappear behind the trees, and Polly thought it was time to make tracks toward the dike and the castle ruins, so she placed her bag over her shoulder and once more, with Langdon under one arm and holding the cage in her other free hand, she set off. Before long she found herself struggling with her cumbersome load, and very quickly she found herself forced into dragging the birdcage along the ground. Poor Herbert buried his head even further into his breast as the thick dust from the ground circled around inside the cage, causing the poor bird to cough and wheeze as the dust threatened to choke him to death.
Finally, Polly let out a deafening squeal that even managed to have Herbert standing at attention.
“Look! We’ve finally made it. Look over there.” she said pointing her finger, “Can you two also see the castle ruins?” she cried excitedly.
Polly wasted no time and quickly made her way down the steep hill, bumping and bashing the cage as it hit rock after rock on their descent. She headed across a muddy moor to where the ancient ruins stood.
“Gosh, this place is amazing,” said Polly, slightly awed by the remains of the castle that were still standing. “This place must have been really fabulous once. Look at the columns, Langdon, and what do you think of this arched window? I bet many a princess was rescued from here by a shining knight in armor, eh Langdon? What do you think?”
Polly’s fresh enthusiasm became very short-lived when she realized that Ralph was nowhere to be seen, and she was once again on her own in what felt like a desolate wilderness. Placing Langdon and Herbert down beside her, she took her bag off her back and sat down on a rock to have a good grumble.
“I can’t believe he’s done this to me,” she wailed. “He promised to meet me here, and he’s let me down. Now what do I do? I want to go home, and I can’t carry Herbert the Heavy a moment longer,” she moaned. “Yep, I’m absolutely exhausted, not to mention fresh out of new ideas. Come on, Sherbert, it’s your turn to sort out this mess. Surely you can come up with something, you skinny birdbrain!”
Herbert still remained on the floor of the cage, his ears firmly shut to her very inflammatory remarks thought he continued staring at her most intently through his small beady eyes. As darkness fell and the wind began to whip up around them they were a sorry sight to behold.
At one point Polly went off in search of somewhere they would be less exposed to the elements, but there was nowhere suitable to be found. She also considered digging a hole and hiding in some undergrowth. She remembered that her survival book had advised that. It would preserve their body heat and keep them warm. But as she considered that option, she felt panicky. If Ralph did finally turn up, then he would not be able to spot them and they would find themselves truly abandoned. She came to the sad conclusion there was nothing they could do except see the night out, cold and exposed, sitting on large boulders in the castle ruins.
Eventually it began to rain, lightly at first, but before long it had turned into a torrential downpour. As the rain soaked through to her skin and Polly began to shiver and shake, she found herself yet again in the deepest pit of despair.
“I hate my horrible life, for nothing good ever happens to me!” she screamed into the darkness, and the only reply that came in response to her anguish was the deep, mocking howl of the icy wind as it bit deeply into her skin like sharp pine needles.
Eventually she fell to her knees on the muddy ground, curling up in a ball and wishing with all her heart that this nightmare would come to an end.
The rain continued to pour down, and the wind continued to rage. And Polly? Well, she continued to beat her fists in the mud as she vented her anger and frustration at all that she had been through, as well as what she was experiencing right up to this moment in time. How could life deal her one treacherous blow after another?
Finally, after she had reached complete exhaustion, she came up with a solution that she believed was her only way of escape: surrendering to Hodgekiss’s cruel and very heartless request and burying Langdon.
She would then make her way home via the police station and place Herbert in their care. She realized that this option would involve considerable paperwork that required her to explain quite how Herbert came to be in her possession. She felt slightly panicky at the thought that they would think she had stolen him from some little old lady’s house. They would almost certainly find her story of Ralph, Hodgekiss, and Piadora more than a little hard to swallow. However, she felt she had no other choice.
Polly got up from the ground and went in search of a suitable burial site. She then got down on all fours, and with her bare hands she began to remove the earth to make a large enough hole for Langdon. As she scooped up the earth she found renewed strength, mainly due to the amount of anger she was unleashing as she continued to dig. Polly then went in search of a boulder to mark the spot where he would be buried.
“Elephants need tombstones just as much as people do,” she muttered as she searched high and low for a suitably smooth boulder on which to write his name and something loving to remember him by.
Pretty soon she found the perfect stone, and after searching her bag for her lipstick she began to think about a suitable inscription. After thinking hard and long she began to write in large bold capitals on the smooth surface of the boulder.
To Langdon the elephant that I love
I trust you’ll understand
This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done
And none of this was planned
I’ll never forget you in all of my trials
For you gave me great comfort and joy
Don’t forget me either friend…
…Remember you’re my favorite cuddly toy.
Polly struggled to keep her composure, but to no avail, as she finally finished writing her Poem of Remembrance only to break down and sob her heart out.
She knew she had to get this awful event over as quickly as possible before she changed her mind. She drew a deep breath and walked over to where Herbert and Langdon sat most innocently and unsuspectingly by the castle ruins. She picked up Langdon and placed him under her arm, and then as an afterthought she turned to confront Herbert, “You’re coming with me as well, Sherbert,” she cried. “So don’t think you’re getting off that lightly, for you need to be witness to the amount of pain your arrival on the scene has caused me,” she informed him in the harshest of tones.
She then grabbed hold of the handle and dragged his cage over every lump and bump on the ground until she was back at the hole.
“Right, stay there,” she commanded as she deliberately swung the cage around in the air before dropping it to the ground in the most inconsiderate and ill-mannered of ways.
Polly then picked up Langdon and, after getting back down on her knees, gently placed him on the hole, trying hard but failing miserably not to look at him for fear that she would break down completely. But it was no use for, as she half peeped at him lying pitifully in the muddy, blackened hole, she experienced the most indescribable pain pierce through her already shattered heart.
Polly was just about to fill in the hole, albeit reluctantly, when she found herself feeling a wave of pure rebellion welling up inside her breast. In a matter of seconds it manifested itself in the most terrifying rage. As the wind howled ferociously around her, biting into her flesh mercilessly in its taunts, she leapt to her feet and yelled, “I can’t do this! What you’re asking of me is downright cruel, and you should be reported to some society that protects defenseless animals. I wish I’d never met you, and I’m never coming to your stupid tea party!” she screamed at the top of her lungs before reaching into the hole to pull Langdon out by his trunk as a gesture of her complete defiance.
Holding him very tightly to her chest, she planted a kiss on his forehead before slumping down beside the hole in stony silence. Fresh tears began streaming and making track marks down her muddied face as she sat on the mushy ground, feeling both very bitter and utterly defeated. Minute
s later she jumped up and, placing Langdon to one side, moved towards the boulder where she had earlier written her tribute to Langdon. She then roughly turned it full circle and then with her pen in her hand she wrote some large letters on the other side.
“There. That says it all,” she angrily muttered to herself. She then moved over to the birdcage and opened the cage door wide. “Right Sherbert, you’ve seen all there is to see, so do me a favor and clear off,” she angrily ordered. She threw herself into the hole to lie down, her arms crossed in front of her in a most defiant manner.
Of course the hole was much too small, and she only managed to fit in the middle half of her torso, making her extremely uncomfortable, but she was well past caring about such things as comfort.
Herbert, who had been watching the whole performance from the safety of his protective cage, continued to remain unmoved by her emotionally charged performance. He chose to remain huddled at the bottom of his cage with his beady eyes firmly fixed on her. And if he had any thoughts on the matter, he was being a very wise old bird by keeping them to himself. As he continued to peer directly into her eyes, Polly suddenly sat up and began to shout at him in a most hysterical and ill-tempered manner.
“Go fly away, birdbrain, for this is where it all ends. Read my tombstone if you don’t believe me!” she yelled, at the same time pointing to the words inscribed on the boulder.
Herbert did not move. He just kept on looking deep into her eyes as if he were trying to reach her soul.
“Well, if you can’t read, then I’ll read it for you, dipstick,” she cried. “It says, ‘HERE LIES THE BODY OF MISS EVER-SO-MISUNDERSTOOD,’ and underneath, bird-brain, if you hadn’t noticed, it says RIP. So jolly well do as those three little letters suggest. Buzz off and allow me to rest in peace.”
Still Herbert remained huddled in the corner, totally unmoved by all her ranting, but very glad to be in his cage with its protective bars.
“If I were you, I’d get out of here quickly,” she continued to yell angrily in his direction. “If you continue to stay and give me the evil eye, I swear that soon you will find yourself becoming bird pie, and that’s a promise,” she threatened in a most menacing manner.
Still Herbert did not twitch a muscle as he continued to stare long and hard directly into her flaming eyes. Polly gave up and slumped backwards into the partial grave. As she continued to lie in the hole, it was not long before various insects tunneled their way through the soil, anxious to make her acquaintance. So pretty soon she had hundreds of the little things crawling and scurrying all over her, some even having the temerity to scuttle down the front of her dress.
Seconds later a family of curious and very slimy worms joined the gathering and began to weave their way merrily down her ankle socks in search of warmth. Polly froze in terror as insect after insect and bug after bug joined ranks and began to congregate on her chest as they prepared to investigate further.
Finally Polly found her voice and let out the most deafening screech. She leapt to her feet as she frantically tried to shake off the unwelcome visitors that were rather cheekily burrowing into her clothes.
“Get off me, you foul creeps!” she screamed as she gave the side of her head a hard slap to dislodge a centipede that was happily setting up home in her ear. “I hate this world! I hate this world!” she repeated over and over as she stormed off back toward the castle ruins, leaving Herbert as well as Langdon abandoned by the boulder.
Polly sat on a rock by the castle ruins for what seemed an eternity. She hardly noticed that it was still raining or that she was soaked through to the skin and shivering.
Hours passed and still she sat miserable and resolute on the stone. It was still dark when she finally surrendered and accepted that the burial must go ahead, and maybe, just maybe, Hodgekiss would one day explain why he had asked such a terrible thing of her.
Slowly she made her way back to the hole and her abandoned companions. She discovered that she needed to dig a new hole as the other one had now become a pool of squelchy thick sludge, due to the incessant downpour. She walked around until she found a fresh site and then began the difficult task of scooping out the earth for her fresh grave. Her hands were so frozen that she found herself making little progress, and as a result this new hole was not only much smaller in diameter but also shallower.
“This will have to do,” she muttered to herself as she stood up to brush herself down.
She gave Langdon a final lingering kiss and then gently lay him down in the new hole. She covered him up with the soil she had removed, and with every handful that covered him, there became less of Langdon to see. Many times she wanted to just pull him back out of the earth and go home, but she ignored this overwhelming desire and continued to heap more soil on top of him.
Polly thought she was doing very well until she saw part of his trunk rising from the earth. She grabbed another handful of soil and poured it over his trunk before squashing it down firmly with both hands. No sooner had she done this than a foot arose from the grave. Polly attempted to squash this back down and was aghast to observe that his trunk had yet again defiantly arisen from the earth. Poor Polly was indeed finding the whole affair of burying Langdon impossible! Eventually she gave up trying and went in search of the boulder on which she had written her ode in memory of him.
After lodging the boulder firmly in place, she then set about making a cross with a couple of twigs and a spare red ribbon from her bag. Finally, when she had done all she could, she got up from her knees and stood for the customary minute’s silence.
Then with the heaviest of hearts, she turned and walked away from the scene as fast as her legs would allow her. She passed by Herbert still sitting forlornly in his cage, and although she admitted that she was still feeling deeply resentful towards him, somehow she found it in her heart to pick up the cage and walk on, only this time at an even faster pace. She didn’t dare turn her head for a final look, for she knew she couldn’t. She had, after all, just buried the only real friend she had ever known, her battle-scarred and trustworthy soulmate whom she loved more than life itself. No words could even begin to touch on the depth of anguish she was now experiencing at her loss.
Chapter 33
HERBERT’S FULL RECOVERY
AS POLLY CONTINUED to walk away from the castle ruins she had little idea as to which direction she was going, but the truth was that she didn’t care a nut or bolt about anything, anymore. No, sadly, she didn’t even care to look at her map, and she cared even less to make any form of meaningful conversation with Herbert, such were the feelings of emptiness and despair she felt inside.
The new dawn broke, and she just carried on walking. She trudged down mountain passes and wandered through valleys. She made her way across shallow streams and meandered slowly through thick undergrowth and forests, oblivious to the fact that her shoes were worn out and the lower half of her legs were covered with deep scratches and painfully large bruises.
At one point on her journey she tripped over a large boulder and tumbled headfirst down a hill, Herbert’s cage rolling and crashing behind her. When Polly finally picked herself up, she discovered that not only had she twisted her ankle pretty badly, but she had also lacerated her right arm. Still, she kept walking like a dead man, and in total silence. All this was very disconcerting for poor little Herbert, who quickly decided that he much preferred being shouted at to being completely ignored.
“Tweet, tweet, tweet,” came the small sound from the birdcage. But Polly was far too occupied with her thoughts to even notice his sudden unexplainable chirping as she continued to stumble along, the pain in both her ankle and arm increasing by the minute. Herbert was left with little choice but to continue on chirping as loudly as he was able in the forlorn hope that she would eventually wake up and realize that this new and very joyous noise was coming from him.
“Tweet, tweet, tweet,” continued the sound from the cage as Herbert carried on chirping in his attempt to get her undi
vided attention.
Polly stopped in her tracks and crouched down on the ground, tentatively placing the cage protectively by her side. Her eyes then hurriedly scanned the horizon to see where the noise was coming from; then placing her index finger up to her lips, she gently commanded Herbert to remain silent.
“Shhh…Sherbert, do be quiet. There’s a good boy, for I thought I heard something,” she whispered, her eyes still focused on the horizon.
Polly remained crouching, her ears finely tuned as she strained to listen out for any strange or unusual movement that might explain the sounds that were by now slightly panicking her.
“No, I must have been imagining it,” she said, getting up from the ground and picking up the cage as she continued to walk on.
“Tweet, tweet,” continued Herbert, despairingly.
Polly stopped short and then suddenly looked down at Herbert.
“Why, Sherbert, I do believe it’s you making that noise!” she cried. “Come on, boy, do it again. Go on; show me what you can do.”
Polly dropped to the ground and lay on her stomach, placing the cage directly in front of her face as she made a new and very positive connection with Herbert. As she lay on the ground eyeball to eyeball with Herbert, much to Polly’s delight Herbert instantly obliged by opening his little beak and producing some very charming high-pitched sounds. To add to her amazement, he voluntarily hopped on to the ladder and climbed up onto his perch.
“That’s fantastic, Sherbert,” she said, breaking into an encouraging smile.
Herbert further responded by standing in front of his mirror, his little head held high, and with his beak wide open and his breast swelling like an opera singer, he began to heartily twitter, “Pretty Polly. Pretty Polly.”
“Oh, don’t try to butter me up now, Sherbert!” Polly sniffed. “It’s very impressive to hear you say my name, but it’s your self-image we’re trying to address here, not mine!”
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