Polly Brown

by Tricia Bennett

  “Jack and the Beanstalk! Why on earth would he give you that particular book?”

  “Precisely, Polly. Just like you, I was amazed by his choice, and I have to admit I felt more than a little peeved, as all my life I have been referred to as poor boy.” Aazi coughed before continuing with his story. “I can tell you now I found it extremely upsetting to read a story about a poor boy who climbs a beanstalk and eventually becomes rich when I was lying in a hospital bed no longer able to see and having lost my whole family and all my possessions. I became very angry with him,” he confessed. “And then to cap it all, when I got over that book, he visited for a second time and produced yet another book. I’ll give you three guesses as to its title.”

  “Go on, Aazi. Spill the beans,” Polly urged.

  “Well, this one was called The Prince and the Pauper, and yes, I found myself just as upset with this book as I did the first,” he confided with a small grin.

  “Likewise, Aazi, I found myself pretty miffed at being given happily-ever-after books when my life was at an all-time low. Tell me what happened next,” Polly said, encouraging her new soulmate to reveal more.

  “Well, I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you,” Aazi said falteringly.

  “Look, Aazi, after all I’ve seen and done, I’m more than willing to believe anything. So please go on with your story,” she pleaded.

  “Well, a few days later Ralph visited me again. This time he placed a ring on my finger and put a green little hard-backed book in my hand before whispering in my ear that his friend Hodgekiss was expecting me for tea at a place called Piadora. Well, I told him that giving me another book was quite pointless, because I was blind and, as I was going to be leaving the hospital over the next few days, there would be no nice nurses around to read it to me. Just like you, Polly, I also told him in quite strong words that his other books had upset me deeply.”

  Aazi furrowed his brow as he continued to confide his story to Polly. “I was very surprised when Ralph then told me that this book had no writing, so there would be no problem. Before I could challenge Ralph as to why the book was necessary, he surprised me further by informing me that this special book would write itself. What’s more, it would be in Braille, so he could see no problem.

  “As he left my bedside, he squeezed my hand and said, ‘Goodbye, little prince. My friend Hodgekiss, as well as my good self, look forward to meeting up with you again in Piadora.’ Before that day, Polly, no one had ever called me a prince. I was only used to being called names like ‘scumbag’ or ‘poor boy.’ No, never in my whole life had I ever been called by such a wonderful name,” said Aazi, his voice becoming strained with emotion as he spoke of this wonderful happening. “As Ralph said it, I felt a warm tingling sensation down my spine and a deep glow that remained deep inside of me throughout the rest of my stay in the hospital.”

  Aazi paused to give another one of his beautiful smiles that Polly found so endearing. She had to restrain herself from just grabbing hold of him to give him another reassuring hug, for she was so moved by his story.

  “Also, another thing that I found strange was, after he left, a nurse came over to my bedside, presumably to check my progress. She then started to tell me off, saying there were feathers everywhere—on the bed, under the bed, and all over the floor around my bed. She assumed that in a fit of anger and frustration I had deliberately ripped open the pillow and scattered its feathers. Of course, I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, and I told her as much. Don’t you think that this is absolutely weird? Now, tell me, Polly, my whole story is pretty hard to swallow, isn’t it?”

  “Aazi, if I told you that I believe every single word of all you have told me, would you believe me?” Polly asked, speaking in very soft tones as she reached out to touch his hand. “For Ralph, and Hodgekiss are firm friends of mine, and I too have been invited to Piadora. In fact, that’s where I was going until Ralph gave me a note that said I had to bury Langdon.”

  “So, Polly, are you saying that you’ve changed your mind and you’re no longer going to Piadora?”

  “Yes, I had changed my mind, that is, until I met you,” Polly admitted. “But now after hearing your story, I feel very different. Not only has all my anger strangely evaporated, but I feel a renewed determination to get there,” she said, breaking into a warm smile. “That is, as long as you are willing to keep me company.”

  “Well, that’s a nice compliment, Polly,” Aazi replied with a wide grin. “You know something, Polly, when I started this journey I wasn’t alone. A large number of my friends asked if they could come with me,” he said quietly. “But then, one by one, they found excuses to leave and go home. Sadly, many of them turned on me and even mocked me, saying that if they continued to keep my company it would be a case of the blind leading the blind,” he said, a tear tumbling down his cheek as he found it so painful to recall such events. “Yes, even my best friend, Stompi, turned his back on me, telling me that I had no hope of getting there, or anywhere, as I now had this awful disability. So I eventually found myself making the journey alone, at least up until this point in time.”

  “Well, that’s all about to change, Aazi,” declared Polly with a positive note of triumph, “for I feel as though I’ve known you for years, and I really love you. You are now officially my new best friend.”

  “Ditto,” laughed Aazi with a smile so bright that Polly believed it could well light up the whole constellation of stars.

  As they sat and compared notes on where their journey had taken them so far, both of them were surprised to discover that they had much in common. Oh, their paths had taken them in different directions, but they soon discovered they had faced similar trials and obstacles. Before long they were butting in to each other’s stories as they relived their unusual adventures.

  “Did you get rescued by Captain Codswallop when, like me, you tried to save those people on the beach?” Polly asked.

  “No, Polly. I don’t think so. If I remember rightly, his name was Captain Hogwash.

  “Hogwash!” cried Polly, unable to believe her ears.

  “Yes, it was Hogwash. I’m fairly certain that was his name,” Aazi answered, looking very serious.

  “Captain Hogwash!” cried Polly rather hysterically as she repeated his name over and over, curling up into a ball as she continued to laugh.

  “Yes, Polly. Captain Hogwash—that was definitely his name, but I don’t know why you’re laughing like a hyena. For Captain Codswallop sounds just as iffy, if you ask me,” Aazi retorted, pretending to be offended. “And, if you think that’s so funny, I was rescued later down the line by a Captain Cuttlefish, commander of a paddleboat that was cruising down the Nile. This very nice gentleman saved me from the extremely sharp snappers of a most fiercesome alligator.”

  Polly rolled around on the ground laughing so much that she was forced to clutch her stomach. Finally she sat up, and after wiping the many tears that had come to her eyes due to too much laughter and frivolity, she changed the tone of her voice to that of a more serious nature.

  “Well, what about Soogara? Did you meet her, too?” Polly sniffed, pulling her face into a long grimace as she then made ghostly sounds. “Now, she was really scary, turning herself into the most frightfully fiercesome dragon. If it had not been for my good friend Napoli who came to my rescue, I do believe I would have been eaten alive or, worse still, consumed by fire, so terrible was my time in her dungeon.”

  “Soogara? Napoli? No, Polly, I have never met either of them. But I have had my fair share of dragons and demons to fight on the way, and some were pretty gruesome and frightening, I promise you. But look, I’ve come through it all and, as far as I’m aware, I’m still in one piece!” he said, at the same time feeling different parts of his body, pretending to check that nothing was missing.

  Polly laughed. “Good for you, Aazi. I have to admit, with some of the things that I’ve been through recently I haven’t done so well, for I’ve ended up i
n little pieces.”

  “Well, never mind, Polly. I too have to confess that I’ve had my wobbly moments when everything appeared hopeless. And tell me this, have you also collected pebbles like these?” he asked, putting his hand deep into his trouser pocket and pulling out a handful of the smooth stones. “I can feel their smoothness, but I also believe they have writing on them as well. Can you read them out for me?”

  “I would be honored, as well as delighted, to tell you what each stone says if you hand them over,” said Polly, reaching over to take them from his cupped hand. “Aazi, this one here says courage, and this next one says loyalty. Oh, and this one, well, it says hope.”

  “What about this one?” said Aazi, handing Polly the last remaining stone that he had missed. “I only got it yesterday.”

  Polly smiled as she looked at it. “Aazi, this one is just as special, and has the word endurance,” engraved on its smooth surface.

  Polly laughed out loud and then pulled out her pebbles to let Aazi have a feel of them. They then took it in turns to tell of the events that led up to receiving each pebble.

  “I wonder what these pebbles mean?” said Aazi.

  “I’ve haven’t the faintest idea, but we had better keep hold of them because they must mean something, as both of us have a collection of them.” Polly answered, putting hers back into her pocket for safekeeping. Aazi followed suit, placing all the pebbles as deeply into his pocket as they would go.

  “Come on, Polly. All this talk of Piadora has made me more anxious than ever to get there as soon as possible,” he said jumping up from the ground. “Come on, what are we waiting for? Grab your bag and let’s go,” he anxiously urged, holding out his hand to pull her up from the ground. “Here, Polly, hand over Sherbert to me. He’s much too heavy for you to carry.”

  Aazi extended his right hand so that Polly could place the cage handle securely into it. She then linked her arm through his and they set off together in search of Piadora.

  “Polly, I think you’re really beautiful,” said Aazi as they walked along together.

  Polly laughed out loud. “It’s a good thing you’re blind, Aazi, for beautiful is one thing I’m not.”

  “Polly, you must stop putting yourself down,” Aazi said, gently rebuking her. “You truly need to understand that beauty really is an inner thing that has nothing to do with what you look like. Because I’m blind, it forces me to listen more intently to a person’s words. I have even learned to bypass their actual words, listening more closely to what their heart is really saying. This way I can conjure up my own picture of what a person truly looks like, and therefore I can say with the greatest of confidence that you, Polly Brown, are indeed very beautiful.”

  Polly squeezed his arm tightly, letting out a slightly embarrassed giggle.

  “Oh well, Aazi. Have it your way, if you must,” she said, blushing such a deep scarlet that Polly was momentarily grateful that his blindness made him unable to see the deep color of her now very crimson cheeks.

  Over the next few days, the pair became inseparable as they shared their hopes and dreams, as well as all their sorrows. Polly found herself laughing more than she had ever laughed in her whole life.

  “You know something, Polly? One of my dreams is to swim up a huge waterfall,” Aazi seriously confided.

  “Up? Don’t you mean down?” Polly giggled as she rectified his mistake.

  “No, Polly. I meant what I said. I know it’s a crazy dream, but all the same, it’s a dream I like to think about.”

  Polly laughed. “I guess most people don’t dare share their dreams, for they’re much too afraid of being laughed at,” she replied as she gave great thought to her impromptu words of wisdom.

  “Never a truer word has been spoken, at least from your lips, Polly,” said Aazi, breaking into laughter. “So let me tell you now, I would also love to go to the edge of the end of the constellation and, all by myself, create a new star,” he said with a tone of immense seriousness. “So don’t you dare laugh at me, for we all need dreams,” he added with a big grin.

  They talked nonstop about what music they liked, what movies they loved and hated, and much, much more. So much so that poor little Herbert found himself having to chirp louder than ever in his endeavor to remind them that the cage they were holding onto was not empty, and he did not like being totally ignored.

  “I think we’re meant to get the train from Heartache Pass to Heckofa Heights,” Aazi told Polly. “At least, according to my map, that’s our next destination.”

  “Yes, and according to my map, the station we need is just over the next hill,” said Polly, using her map to confirm their position.

  In no time at all Polly and her friends were sitting very comfortably on a magnificently built steam engine that chugged and wound its way up through many steep mountain passes, stopping only to pick up extra passengers. Before long the train carriage was full to capacity, and Polly felt obliged to give up Herbert’s space on the seat to a rather elderly gentleman, so she placed Herbert and his cage on the carriage floor, safely by her feet.

  They were not too far into the journey when Herbert started to frantically flap around the cage. Polly, who had been dozing, opened her eyes and peered downwards into the cage to see what was causing his sudden distress.

  “Aazi, help me!” she cried. “Sherbert seems to be choking. What do you think?”

  “Polly, I’ve no idea what’s happening. Try to remember that I’m blind,” Aazi rather anxiously responded. Before Polly could further panic, Herbert fell backwards off his perch and lay helpless on the floor of his cage.

  “Do something, Aazi!” Polly cried out.

  “I’m not a doctor or a vet, Polly,” Aazi reminded her, “so I’m not entirely sure at this moment what we can do to help him, other than…”

  Polly didn’t wait for Aazi to finish his sentence. She flung the cage door open wide and gently lifted helpless Herbert from the floor of the cage, cupping him between her hands. With Herbert lying limp in the palm of her hand Polly began to stroke his beak.

  “His breathing is awfully shallow, Aazi,” she observed, feeling more concerned than ever for the poor little fellow.

  “You could try mouth-to-beak resuscitation,” suggested Aazi. “Although, this might prove to be very difficult. He is such a tiny bird with an even tinier beak through which to blow.”

  Polly quickly decided she was game for anything, for she could clearly see that Herbert’s condition was rapidly deteriorating.

  “Oh, don’t die on me, Sherbert,” she moaned as she gently pried open his beak before lifting Herbert right up to her face.

  She then took a deep breath and began to blow air into his beak, hoping it would make its way down his windpipe and fill up his lungs.

  “Come on, little fellow,” she whispered as she used her index finger to massage his heart between breaths.

  “Excuse me, miss. I know you’re doing your best to resuscitate the poor little fellow, but if you press down any harder on his little chest, you’ll completely finish him off,” said one of the passengers, deeply concerned at the amount of pressure she was using to start up Herbert’s tender heart.

  Polly ignored the helpful stranger’s comment as she diligently continued the mouth-to-mouth and heart massage in her desperate bid to revive him. Finally, as she was about to give up, Herbert slowly opened his beady eyes and let out a little tweet.

  “He’s back with us!” she cried, turning to Aazi and adding, “Oh Aazi, I do believe his singing has finally become music to my ears.”

  Polly continued to hold Herbert in the palm of her hand, feeling very reluctant to place him back in his cage in case of a repeat performance, for she sincerely believed that she was not up to going through any further drama with her little friend.

  As the train continued to slowly chug its way through deep valleys and up very steep, mountainous passes, Polly continued to keep a close eye on Herbert. Pretty soon he was bouncing around on bot
h feet as well as happily warbling and tweeting, with no physical evidence left of the rather unfortunate episode. Then suddenly without any warning he sprung out of her palm and began to wildly flutter at immense speed around the carriage. Polly watched, horrified, as Herbert shot around the carriage, barely missing the heads of unsuspecting passengers as he showed off his talents by going into continuous nosedives with the determination of a kamikaze pilot.

  “Sherbert, come back. Come back!” shouted Polly as she leaped to her feet and frantically raced through the carriage after him. Seconds later Herbert crashed into the glass of a closed window and was sent plummeting at great speed to the floor. The terrified passengers quickly moved their feet before dropping their heads to observe the little fellow lying flat out beside them on the carriage floor.

  “Oops! I’m so sorry. Please let me through. Please let me get to him,” begged Polly as she crawled on all fours through numerous legs to get to where Herbert lay flat out and dazed. “Come on, boy, get up and jump into my hand,” she whispered.

  Herbert lay motionless for a moment and then mischievously sprang to both feet as if he were playing a game.

  “Here boy. Here boy,” said Polly as she gently tried to coax him toward her hand.

  Herbert responded by furiously pecking at her outstretched hand as he resisted all attempts to be captured by her. Using both hands, Polly moved nearer in her attempt to catch him and put him safely back into the cage. Herbert, on the other hand, was having none of it. With a sudden and spurious flap of his wings, he was back up in air, whizzing the length of the compartment like a bomber plane as he evaded all attempts to be recaptured.

  Soon she was joined by many fractious passengers who were feeling most upset that their tranquil journey had been ruined by a thoughtless and somewhat psychotic bird who went by the name of Sherbert.

  “Here, Sherbert,” they all cried as they climbed on seats and waved rolled-up newspapers in their hands, hoping to whack his stupid little head in a bid to finally bring him to his senses. But, try as they may, all efforts to catch him proved futile, for he was turning out to be a very stubborn and equally defiant little bird, incapable of being reasoned with.