Still Herbert ignored her, and he carried on tweeting “Pretty Polly. Pretty Polly,” as he continued to admire himself in front of his little mirror.
“Well, I guess I should just feel happy and content knowing you’re finally beginning to cooperate with me so I do believe congratulations are in order. It’s wonderful to see you so happy, and it must surely mean that you are also now well on the road to making a full recovery. Oh, just wait until Hodgekiss and Ralph get to hear about this,” she cried excitedly. “Oh dear, I almost forgot, I’m not going to ever see them again,” she moaned, shrugging her shoulders as she momentarily lapsed back into a defeated state. “Well, never mind, my little sweetie. You should still feel proud of yourself, and if it were physically possible, I would give you a nice big hug. Instead you’ll have to settle for a little pat on the head,” she said, poking her finger through the cage bars and gently stroking him. Herbert inched closer towards Polly as if to encourage her to continue caressing his head.
“By the way, Sherbert, I’m really sorry about all the awful things I’ve said to you recently, for you’re certainly not a dipstick or a birdbrain or any of the other horrible things I called you. I know my behavior has at times been quite inexcusable, but I can only hope you understand that I’ve been going through a very difficult patch; you just happened to be the easiest person to take it out on. For that I’m truly sorry,” she sniffed, looking into his beady eyes and feeling very remorseful. “I promise I’ll never again treat you in such an awful manner. So can we now be friends?”
Herbert nuzzled up against Polly’s hand in a manner that communicated that finally all was well.
Polly remained lying flat out on the ground as she carried on gently stroking his little head and breast. Herbert continued to woozily nestle up to her, enjoying every minute of this new relationship that was now finally beginning to blossom.
“Look, Sherbert, I know I said I was going to leave you at a police station, but how about coming with me in search of Ralph?” she suggested in a surprisingly upbeat manner.
As she was putting this bright idea to Herbert, she thought she heard a rustling in the bushes. This was shortly followed by the sound of someone singing. As Polly shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun and looked in the direction of the noise, her eyes hit upon a young black boy heading in their direction holding a large stick as he made his way across a muddy field.
“Hi there,” said the boy brightly.
“Oh hi. Come over and join us,” Polly said with a welcoming smile.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he replied before adding, “I think I recognize your voice. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
Before Polly could answer that she didn’t think so, the boy excitedly exclaimed, “Yes, I think you were at the concert, weren’t you?”
“Yes, that’s right. I was there. How on earth do you remember me when the crowd was so large?”
“Ah, you were the girl who had your bag of peanuts knocked out of your hand. I was standing nearby when it happened, and I heard all the commotion.”
“Yes, I have to confess I did get pretty upset,” admitted Polly ruefully.
“Well, when I heard your cries, I very nearly came over to you to share my peanuts, but then you suddenly disappeared and I don’t think you returned. What happened to you?”
“So are you telling me you ate the whole lot?” she gasped, unintentionally ignoring his question.
“Yep, every little morsel,” he said laughing. “I’m pretty greedy, aren’t I?”
“Tell me, have you suffered any serious side effects?” quizzed Polly, her face now very serious.
“Like what?”
“Well, like sickness, dizziness, anything like that.”
“Nope, nothing out of the ordinary. Although, come to think of it, I did feel a little queasy later that evening and my belly kept making the most terrible gurgling noises, but that’s all. Anyway, why are you asking?”
“Oh nothing. Forget I ever mentioned it,” said Polly, giving a deep sigh of relief.
“Anyway, as I was trying to tell you, before I had time to offer you to share my bag I heard you tell your friend that you were leaving,” said the boy, raising his eyebrows as he waited for her to give a full explanation as to why she had left the concert when it was in full swing.
“Oh, it’s a long story.”
“I’m all ears,” he replied with a smile so big and beautiful it could light up the stars.
As he stood and talked to Polly, she had the feeling that there was something different about him, although she was at a complete loss to pinpoint quite what that difference was.
“I promise to tell you later, but first let me introduce myself. I’m Polly, and this little fellow here,” she said, pointing at Herbert, “is called Sherbert. At least that’s my little pet name for him.”
Polly noticed that the boy did not follow her hand as she pointed towards Sherbert and the cage, but she said nothing.
“Nice to meet you both,” said the boy with the beautiful smile. “My name is Aazriah Maketti, Aazi for short,” he said, breaking into another huge smile that showed off his gleaming, pearly white teeth. “Now tell me, what brings you two out here into the heart of Ballunga Forest?”
“Ballunga? Is that what this place is called?”
“Yep, and I hope you realize that it’s a fairly dangerous place to set up camp. So tell you what, how about I join you and make sure that you and little Sherbert get out of here safely?”
Polly readily agreed to his help, especially as she now knew this was a dark and very dangerous place in which to loiter.
“Here, let me help you,” said Aazi with a grin.
Polly thanked him as she placed the cage into his outstretched hand. “Hang on a minute while I pick up my schoolbag,” she cried. “I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on so tightly.”
Polly then limped over to where her bag still lay, and after slinging it over her shoulder she joined Aazi. They headed out of the forest clearing, making their way down into a deep valley.
Polly willingly let him walk ahead because he not only seemed to know where he was going, but also because she was still struggling with her twisted ankle. As she followed on behind him, she soon became acutely aware that Aazi walked very cautiously, as though he was studying every inch of the terrain with his outstretched stick before putting a step forward. This puzzled her, for it seemed to be quite out of character for an otherwise strong, confident boy. Again she dismissed this nagging thought, for at the end of the day she was really glad to have his company.
In no time at all Polly found herself back at the same crossroads where previously she had allowed Ralph to sew Langdon’s torn trunk back on. Even thinking back to that event caused her to shudder and momentarily feel the pain of her loss.
“I’ve been here before,” she anxiously confessed to Aazi.
“So have I. In fact, if I’m honest, I’ve ended up at this precise spot a number of times,” he said with a grin. “And each time I seem to take the wrong fork in the road. However, the good news is having gone up all the other wrong roads I am fairly confident that this time I will get it right.”
Polly was very relieved to hear this. She too was equally fed up with taking wrong turns. While Aazi stood in the middle of the crossroads, deliberating which road they should take, Polly used the opportunity to find a suitable place to sit and rest a while. With her bag and birdcage safely by her side she sat down on a primrose-covered embankment.
“Polly, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he shouted in her direction. “I took this road last time,” he said, raising his stick into the air. “And that road there the time before. And I definitely came up this road the first time round. So here we have it. This road that I’m now standing on is the right route for us to take!” he yelled excitedly as he pointed his long stick in a southerly direction. “There, sorted,” he shouted gleefully before walking back to join her on the embankment.
“Well, Polly, you have not answered my question as to why you were out in Ballunga forest all on your own.”
“I’m not entirely alone, for I do have Herbert with me. Anyway it’s a long and very sad story,” Polly replied, pain etched across her faced as she spoke. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a hanky or something similar that I could use as a bandage to tie round my ankle, Aazi?”
“Sure thing, Polly,” replied Aazi, pulling out a large handkerchief from his trouser pocket and handing it to her. “Here, take this one as well,” he said pulling out another.
“Thanks,” mumbled Polly as she used the other hanky to bind up the deep gash in her arm.
“Now, back to the question that I keep asking and you keep evading, Polly. And before you say anything else, I’ve got all the time in the world, and I’d really like to know,” he said, putting a sympathetic arm around her shoulder.
Polly felt encouraged by his kind gesture and proceeded to tell Aazi all about Uncle Boritz and Aunt Mildred, as well as the terrible loss of her dear brother Thomas.
“It was dreadful watching Thomas become so sick and being powerless to help him,” she told Aazi in sad, hushed tones.
Aazi squeezed Polly’s shoulder and told her that he too knew all about the pain of loss. Polly felt touched by his sincerity and continued on with her story, not stopping until she had brought him up right to date on all that had happened to her since leaving the castle.
“None of this would ever have happened if that stupid door hadn’t shut on me,” she moaned. “I could have just sneaked back to the dormitory and nobody would have been any the wiser.”
“Yes, Polly, but it sounds to me as though living in that dreadful castle was completely destroying you. And look what happened to Thomas. I mean, that was pretty terrible. So perhaps that door shutting behind you was meant to be,” he commiserated.
“You’re probably right, Aazi,” Polly replied rather glumly. “But many things that have since happened to me have also felt awful, some of them falling into the category of being simply too ludicrous for words.”
“Yes, but you have also experienced some pretty awesome things on the way,” Aazi chipped in, in an effort to console her. “I mean, a trip around the world on Concorde! And then a luxury cruise on the Queen Mary! Wow, Polly, I think most people would give their right eye to have seen and done such amazing things.”
“I guess you’re right, Aazi, but I saw a lot of heart-wrenching stuff everywhere I went, and it seemed to make me feel worse then ever.”
“So let me get things right, Polly. Are you saying you would prefer not to have seen them?” quizzed Aazi.
“Yes, I guess that is what I’m trying to say, because it made me feel so powerless to help.”
“So really, the truth is that you would prefer to live with your head in the sand rather than feel uncomfortable and a little distressed at seeing something of the suffering that exists in this world?”
“No, I’m not saying that,” Polly retorted rather defensively, for she was now feeling a little peeved with Aazi and what she perceived to be his deliberate attempt at upsetting her. “I’m just saying that it has added a heavy toll to the many burdens I already struggle with.”
“Don’t be mad at me, Polly,” said Aazi with a grin. “I too know much about feeling powerless, and at times it leaves me feeling frightened and helpless.”
“Well, Aazi, I find that very hard to believe! For you seem so cheerful and confident, prepared to face any challenge that confronts you.”
“Not so, Polly. Just like you, I have had my fair share of disasters and trials. And many times I have got so mad that I’ve felt my blood boil,” he admitted with a fresh openness and honesty Polly had rarely seen in all her years.
“Oh, please tell me, Aazi! I have spent so much time convinced that even the very elements are conspiring against me,” she cried.
“Well, Polly, as you can see, the color of my skin is a different color to yours, and you probably realize that I’m not originally from this country.” Polly nodded. “My birthplace is Zimbabwe in South Africa. Have you ever heard of Zimbabwe, Polly?”
Polly shook her head and told Aazi that she had been to South Africa on her recent travels, including Durban and Cape Town, and she thought that Africa was a very beautiful place.
“Yes, Africa is, as you rightly say, very beautiful. But there are many parts where strife and civil unrest are the norm, and such things bring pain and poverty to many people. Anyway, I lived with my family in a small village in the heart of Zimbabwe. We were very poor, but happy. I had two younger brothers and a baby sister.”
“You used the word had, Aazi. Don’t you mean have?” She chipped in.
“Polly, please let me tell the story,” said Aazi, lightly scolding her for interrupting him.
Polly apologized and promised she would try very hard not to interrupt again. Aazi cleared his throat and continued with his story.
“Well, there were bands of rebels who were sent in by the authorities to uproot us and burn down our homes to make sure we left, never to return.” Aazi paused as he reflected on all that had happened. “To begin with, our village was spared, and they just threw stones at us and called us horrible names. But late one night, while we were all sound asleep, they sneaked into the village and set our houses on fire. My father died trying to save us all from the flames. He managed to get me out, but first he had to remove a huge beam that had fallen on top of my head, pinning me to the floor. The fire was so fierce that I could feel it burning my skin. But as he carried me to safety, I realized that I could not see a thing. All I could feel were his strong arms holding me tightly as he carried me to safety. I can still remember his deep voice whispering in my ear. ‘Son, hold on. Please try to hold on. You’re going to make it. Tell yourself you’re going to make it.’ That was to be the last time I heard my dad’s voice,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I was told later that he went back into the flames to try and save my mother as well as my brothers and little sister,” he continued, his eyes welling up with tears and his body trembling as he relived that most terrible event.
Polly too struggled to hold back the tears as her newfound friend relived his story. “Oh, Aazi, I am so very sorry,” was all she felt capable of muttering as she took hold of his hand and tightly squeezed it.
“Shall I stop there, Polly?” he asked, his voice cracking even further.
“No, no. Please carry on if you can,” she cried, clutching his hand even tighter as she encouraged him to finish his story.
“Anyway, the next thing I remember was waking up to find myself lying in a hospital bed with many machines attached to my body. My face was swollen like a hot air balloon and my eyes were covered by thick, heavy bandaging. They told me I had been asleep for well over two weeks, and I was a very lucky boy to have survived. It would be many days later before the doctors summoned up the courage to tell me that all my family had perished.”
Polly put a hand up to his eyes to wipe away the tears that were now tumbling uncontrollably down his cheeks.
“Thank you, Polly,” was all Aazi could mumble. He then paused for a few moments as he struggled to take a firm grip on himself. “Eventually I asked them to remove the bandages swathed around my head, and it was then, at that awful moment, that I discovered I was now blind.”
Polly gasped and moved her hand up to his face to catch a lone tear that was tumbling down his face. And as she did so, she realized that he did not twitch or move his eyes in recognition of what she was doing. Now she knew what it was that had been troubling her since they had first met up.
“So how come you knew I was at the concert if you cannot see?” she asked, feeling a little perplexed.
“If you cast your mind back, you will remember that I never said I could see you. No, what I actually said was, ‘I heard the commotion,’ and that when you greeted me back there in the woods I recognized your voice as being that of the girl who got upset at losing her b
ag of peanuts. I may not be able to see, Polly, but since the accident my other senses have been heightened. My hearing has become very acute.”
“Oh, dear, Aazi,” cried a now very distressed Polly as she moved over to further console him with a long, comforting hug. “I am so sorry this has happened to you, really I am. It is much worse than anything I have had to endure,” she said, fervently embracing him at the same time.
“Polly, you’ve been through an awful lot too, so let’s not compare our pain. I don’t think it is very helpful.”
“You’re right, Aazi. Both of us have been in agonizingly awful situations, feeling hopeless and desperately needing to be rescued,” she said quietly, her eyes brimming with tears. “We make a right pair, don’t we?” she sniffed as she fumbled in her pocket to find her hanky. “I thought there was something unusual about your eyes, for they didn’t flicker at all when I put my hand up to your face. Oh Aazi, whatever you say I still believe that your suffering has been more unbearable than mine,” she said softly as she continued to embrace him. “I had no idea whatsoever that you were blind, for you seem so confident and happy with life.”
“I am most of the time,” he answered, giving a faint smile. “As I lay in complete darkness in the hospital bed, feeling nothing but the despair, the air suddenly became filled with this strange smell that I have come to believe was the smell of hope. And before you say anything, Polly, hope does have a smell. Anyway, as I lay in the bed feeling alone and afraid for my future, a most unusual stranger requested permission to visit me. I had never met him before and I have to admit, Polly, his odor wiped out the beautiful, strange smell. He smelled really awful,” he admitted with a large grin. “He told me his name was Ralph, and that he would love me to meet his friend Hodgekiss. I told him that unless his friend came to the hospital, there would be no chance of this ever happening. Anyway, he left me a book which he said one of the nurses would read to me, if I asked them nicely.”
“What was it called?” Polly interrupted.
“Well, it might sound crazy to you, so promise not to laugh, but it was called Jack and the Beanstalk.” Aazi momentarily paused, seeming quite reluctant to talk on.”
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