With recapture well out of all the passengers’ grasp, a very irate gentleman decided to take the matter into his own hands by winding down a window and yelling, “Clear off, you wretched, skinny little monster!”
Not only did Herbert feel very insulted, but he also wasted no time in obeying the order to leave, in a matter of seconds obliged by flying out of the window to freedom.
“Thank goodness for that,” said the grumpy gentleman with the bowler hat and mustache as he sat back down and rather dramatically reopened his newspaper. “Now let’s have some peace and quiet.”
Polly’s jaw dropped as she watched on, horrified, as Herbert flew out of the carriage window. She raced over to the open window and quickly stuck her head out, turning to face the same direction as he had flown off.
“Sherbert, come back! Come back!” she cried. It was no use, for the noise of the locomotive’s engine drowned her cries, and the steam from the engine clouded her view.
Polly was forced to give up any hope of retrieving Herbert and angrily shut the window, giving the bowler-hatted gentleman a most resentful stare as she made her way back down the carriage to take her seat and rejoin Aazi.
“Oh Aazi, he’s gone,” she wailed pitifully as she slumped back down into her seat. “I have no idea why Hodgekiss thought he could trust me to take care of him, for I am incapable of doing anything right,” she said wearily.
“Come on, Polly. Stop beating yourself up. You did your best. What more could you possibly have done? Besides, birds are generally at their happiest when they are free, don’t you agree?”
Polly nodded, but it still didn’t change a thing, for in her mind she had yet again failed hopelessly in her mission to protect and nurture one of Hodgekiss’s pets.
“Let’s hope that, unlike Ollie, Herbert doesn’t turn out to be one of his favorites,” she said rather mournfully.
Polly remained silently deep in thought for the rest of the journey as she went over and over the events that had taken place carefully considering whether there was anything else she could possibly have done to prevent Herbert from escaping. She sat with her eyes firmly shut, wondering how she was going to put this latest catastrophe into words when, and if, she came to meet up with Hodgekiss. No, try as she may, there were indeed no nice or acceptable words that would help ease her conscience, for when it came to the crunch she knew she would have to confess the whole truth. All she imagined she could say was, “Hmm, I don’t know how to put this, but remember Ollie your caterpillar who took off on holiday? Well, the same thing has happened to Herbert. He too has done the dirty on me and gone on a rather long holiday. In fact, just like Ollie, he too will be gone forever.”
Polly inwardly groaned at the prospect of meeting up with Hodgekiss.
Chapter 34
“AIN’T NO MOUNTAIN HIGH ENOUGH”
POLLY BEGAN TO drift off, but in what seemed like only a matter of minutes she found herself being given a sharp nudge in the ribs by a very excited Aazi.
“Polly, wake up, I think we have arrived at Heckofa Heights! Quick, come take a look for yourself,” he said, beckoning her to get up from the seat. “Come and take a look out of the window and tell me what you see.”
Polly wasted no time, and in only a matter of moments she had wound down the window and declared, “I think you’re right, Aazi. We really have made it!”
They then both stood with their heads hanging out of the open window with the wind blowing into their faces until the train came to a final halt. Aazi opened the door, but not before reminding Polly to grab her bag. As Polly picked up her bag, her eyes fell on the now empty cage.
“Aazi, what should I do about this?” she queried as she attempted to draw his attention to the empty cage, quite forgetting that he was unable to see.
“What are you referring to, Polly?” asked Aazi in response to her question. “The cage, Aazi,” she cried as she picked it up and rattled it. “Sherbert’s empty cage.”
“Oh, the cage. Well, let’s take it with us, Polly, for it does seem the decent thing to do. I mean it’s one thing to lose his bird, but if we also fail to give back the cage I think we will be adding insult to injury, don’t you?”
“I agree,” said Polly resignedly. “After all, it was Sherbert’s home,” she added sadly.
With her bag slung sloppily over her shoulder and the empty cage in one hand, she carefully climbed off the train and, still limping, followed Aazi toward the station’s exit. As they came through the exit door Polly turned to Aazi and asked, “What next?”
“We could find a bench to sit down and examine our maps,” he helpfully suggested.
“Yes, I think that’s what we need to do,” agreed Polly.
As they settled down on a bench, Polly rummaged through her belongings until she found her map. On closer inspection she began to feel quite panicky.
“Aazi, I don’t think there are any more directions on this map. It has taken us as far as it can. Now what do we do?”
“I have no idea, Polly. Give me a minute to think, will you?”
Aazi thought long and hard as he pondered over what should happen next. Suddenly he had a bright thought.
“Polly, when you last saw Ralph, you mentioned he gave you a note.”
“Yes, that’s true, but that note was specifically asking me to look after Sherbert and bury Langdon. I assure you there was nothing in the letter concerning travel arrangements,” cried Polly grimly.
“Well, how do you know that for certain? When you relayed the story to me, you said that you threw it to the ground in disgust when you learned that you were being asked to bury Langdon.”
“Yes, so I did!” responded Polly.
“Well, Polly, the least you can do is take another look at the letter and see if it says anything else that might prove useful.”
Polly reluctantly agreed to empty the contents of her bag and see if she still had that letter in her possession.
“Here it is, Aazi” she said, picking it out from amongst her widely scattered belongings. “Right, now, let me see. Ah, yes, here it is: ‘Dear Polly… Sherbert is suffering from…Hodgekiss recommends burying…Hugs and kisses…Ralph.’”
“Come on, Polly. Is there anything else?”
“Oh Aazi, you are quite right. There is something else!” she excitedly cried as her eyes hit the bottom of the page. “There is a P.S. at the bottom of the letter. It says: ‘P.S. I forgot to mention that in the unlikely event that Herbert becomes free from all his sickness and malady, he will be most eager to fly to freedom. It is important you allow him to do so, otherwise there is the distinct possibility he will become ill again and all your hard work will have been for nothing. I also wish to encourage you that when and if this occurs, you are almost at your journey’s end. Well done, Polly. You have almost made it to Piadora. Can you smell the pizza?”
“Polly, did you hear what you just read?” Aazi shouted excitedly.
“Yes, yes, I did. Isn’t it wonderful, Aazi? I do believe that we’re almost there—yes, almost at Piadora!”
She joined her friend in shouting at the top of her lungs, for now she was bursting with renewed anticipation and excitement and was unable to hold herself together any longer. She turned to give Aazi a big hug and, as she did so, she heard a thundering voice behind her.
“Right, are we all present and correct?” bellowed the unfamiliar voice.
Polly turned to see where the voice was coming from and whether it was directed at her. And as she looked up, she came eyeball-to-eyeball with a very portly, ruddy-cheeked man with an extremely whiskery face and ridiculously bushy eyebrows.
“Well, is anybody listening to me? Are we all here then?” he said with a loud snort before adding, “because if we are all present and correct, we may as well set off without further ado.”
Polly remained seated, her gaze firmly fixed on the solidly built man who was dressed from head to toe in thickly padded clothes with enormous hiking boots on his equally e
normous feet. He had a thick red, blue, and white striped scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and a matching woolly bobble hat. He also had large, thick goggles around his forehead and very plump red cheeks. In one hand he clutched a long stick with a spike on the end, and in his other hand he held a large clipboard. The fierce-looking man could see Polly was looking both very uncomfortable and completely bewildered.
“Please forgive my mad or rather bad manners and allow me the pleasure of introducing myself,” he said with a chortle, at the same time holding out a massive and hairy hand for Polly to shake. “My name is Sir Eggmond Hoollari, and I am here to take you on a mountaineering course. Are you ready?”
“Mountaineering course!” exclaimed Polly. “I think not! Sorry, but I hate heights, so there is no way you are going to get me up a mountain, of that I’m certain. Besides which, I have injured my ankle as well as my arm. Here, look for yourself if you don’t believe me,” she said, holding up her arm to show the gentleman.
The man raised a bushy eyebrow before turning his clipboard, his eyes scanning up and down the list that was attached to it.
Polly used the breather to further protest, “Look, you must have made some mistake,” she continued, “for I have never enrolled on any rock-climbing or mountaineering course. Besides which, Aazi here is blind, and I’m not going anywhere without him.”
The man carried on ignoring Polly as he continued to scan his list.
“Well, is your name Polly Brown and are you from the orphanage?” he asked, his eyeballs bulging from his sockets as he stared her directly in the face.
“Yes sir, I am Polly Brown, and I am from the orphanage, but there must be some mistake. You must have my name mixed up with that of someone else.”
“Well, according to my notes, which were also recently confirmed by a little birdie, it says here, ‘Polly Brown loves The Sound of Music and her favorite song in the film is ‘Climb Every Mountain.’ It never fails to inspire her.’ Now I have to ask you, is this information true or false?”
“Yes, it’s true, but…”
“No buts, young lady. It either is or it isn’t. Now which is it?”
“It’s true, but how did you get hold of that very private piece of information?” Polly asked, decidedly wearily.
“Never you mind, young lady,” he replied, giving his nose a little tap that suggested she should not pursue this line of questioning any further.
“Now your friend here is also down for the training, at least according to my list, which I assure you is absolutely bang up to date. So Aazi from Zimbabwe, I sincerely hope that you have not the slightest intention of canceling at this late hour.”
“That’s downright ridiculous,” Polly very rudely chipped in, “for can’t you see he’s blind?”
“Excellent,” declared Eggmond Hoollari with a wide grin.
“You are crazy! I fail to see how being blind could possibly be seen as excellent,” Polly angrily retorted.
“Well, my dear, it makes his climb much easier to deal with, for as he cannot see, he will have no fear. Just you wait!”
“Well, Sir Eggbunch Hillopee or Hillagi or whatever your name is, Aazi is not prepared to risk life and limb to go with you on some wild and crazy mountaineering trip, and that’s the end of the matter,” she said with a ferocity that even took her by surprise.
“Polly, I do think you should allow Aazi to speak for himself, for he might be blind but presumably he’s not dumb!” he retorted, at the same time directing his attention towards Aazi. “Now then, Aazi, are you game for this adventure?”
Aazi shrugged his shoulders with seeming indifference, but before he had time to give any further consideration to the matter, Sir Eggmond slapped him on the back and said, “Of course you are, for according to my notes, you, young sir, also have an inspirational song that means the world to you. Yes, according to my notes your song is called ‘The Impossible Dream,’ and I believe it goes something like this,” he said, as he began to sing the words of the song in a deep, croaky voice. Now am I right, young sir, or are you also going to begin protesting and challenge the accuracy of my notes?”
Aazi remained speechless. Just like Polly, he was dumbfounded that this complete stranger could know something so deeply personal, and he found himself utterly incapable of doing anything more than give the briefest of nods.
“Good, well that’s settled. You’re coming with me. Now then, where is everybody else that I have on my list? Have they missed the train?” he muttered as his eyes went back to further scan his list. “Now then, where is Elijah Entrecote? He is down on my list as coming with us today. And where, for that matter, is Cuthbert Cannontree? I thought I saw him hanging around the station much earlier in the day.” Sir Eggmond continued down his list of absentees. “Isaiah Ichabod, Michael McFowl, Malachi Mortlock, Jemima Jumpstart, oh, and where is that delightful young Italian girl Melissa Melistragata? She is such a little peach, I feel I could eat her for breakfast. Hmm, Penelope Possum is also missing, as is Haggai Thrupton and Simon Snodgrass…”
The list of absentees was endless. For one reason or another, none of them had made it. Polly watched as each name was dutifully crossed off the list.
“Well, I guess it’s just the two of you today,” said Sir Eggmond dryly.
As he was adjusting the paper on his clipboard, the two Justins exited the train station and ran over to where Polly and Aazi were sitting on the bench, arguing the toss with Sir Eggmond.
“Hey wait! Wait for us! We’re coming too!” cried Justin Kase.
“Phew, I think we’ve made it just in time,” declared a most relieved Justin Thyme, dropping his bag to the ground to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
“You lads are indeed very lucky that we haven’t yet left, or you’d be quite up a gum tree,” said Sir Eggmond, slightly amused as he went back to mark a tick by the two boys names on the now very disappointingly shortened list.
“Well, I have to say in my defense that, as usual, it’s my friend’s fault that we’re late,” Justin Thyme stated rather breathlessly. “He kept insisting that he needed to recheck his bag, finding further things to add to it each time. Honestly he may be my best pal, but at times he drives me nuts.”
Justin Kase laughed out loud before pretending to give him a playful thump for being so rude about him.
“Oh, stop complaining. I’ve got us out of many sticky situations by having the right gear with me. Oh, by the way Polly, when we get back from Piadora we’ve made plans to go and see the Beatles live. Fancy coming with us?”
Polly quickly declined, for no way did she wish to set eyes upon another insect—she’d seen enough of them to last a lifetime!
“Right, pay attention everybody,” said Sir Eggmond rather abruptly. “We are going to walk down to where I have set up base camp, and I’m sure that you will be pleased to know that my Sherpas are at present brewing up a jolly nice cup of tea for us. It will also give me the opportunity to treat your injuries, Polly, for your arm and ankle appear to be in pretty bad shape. Once we’ve got you sorted, we will have supper before checking our equipment, and then it’s into our sleeping bags for a small rest before heading up the mountain at the break of dawn. Oh, and do be encouraged—I haven’t lost anyone off the side of this particular mountain face for quite a while.”
Polly took a deep gulp as she considered his words of comfort anything but reassuring.
Less than an hour later Polly and her friends found themselves huddled inside a large tent, and Sir Eggmond wasted no time in attending to her injuries.
“You’ve got yourself a nasty cut there, Polly,” said Sir Eggmond as he removed her makeshift bandage. “Hmm, I think this calls for some special ointment, don’t you? And while we’re at it, I think we will apply a bit to that rather swollen ankle.”
Moments later, Polly found her wound being swabbed in warm antiseptic water before he went on to apply his medicinal ointment.
“There, that should do it,” he state
d, feeling rather pleased with himself. “Now rub it deep into the wound. There’s a good girl.”
“Sir Eggmond, this ointment is very strange, for I’m getting a warm tingly feeling right up my arm, and now I can feel it all around my ankle. Yes, I can feel the same warm sensation,” said Polly, feeling rather delighted.
“That’s excellent, Polly, for it shows that my ointment is working efficiently,” he said with a smile.
“What’s it called? I’d very much like to get hold of some,” Polly asked unable to hide her curiosity.
“Well, that’s my little secret, Polly, but I tell you hand on heart that this ointment has the most wonderful, miraculous healing properties. Yes, it will heal just about any condition on the planet. There, I think we’re done, and now I think it’s high time we concerned ourselves with more important things, such as filling our tummies. I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely famished,” he said with a smile.
Minutes later they were all digging in to a bowl of steaming homemade soup and munching on thick slices of bread. As Polly consumed every morsel she was offered, she laid aside all suspicious thoughts concerning his miracle ointment.
“This soup is delicious. What’s in it?” asked Polly.
“It’s my own secret recipe. I call it Chicken Shack Soup,” beamed a very proud Sir Eggmond. “Let me tell you, Polly, this soup has enough nutrients and vegetables to keep you healthy for a week up in the mountains. I lived on the stuff when I last climbed the Himalayas; I hope you’ve heard of them,” he said with a chortle.
“Yes sir, I have. I learned all about them in my geography classes. Aren’t they the highest group of mountains in the world?”
“You’re absolutely correct, young lady. That is, with the exception of Piadora. Although not too many people know it, she is, I believe, the highest of them all.”
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