The Trouble with Polly Brown

by Tricia Bennett

  “Boritz, so awfully good to see you,” the old and wizened doctor with the hysterical-sounding voice cried out as he generously held out a very decrepit, wrinkled hand to greet his friend.

  Polly looked up, and her eyes immediately became fixated by his most peculiar and shockingly overgrown eyebrows, which notably took on the appearance of wings about to take flight. Polly continued to stare directly at him, for not only was his graying hair standing up on end, leaving her with the presumption that he must have recently survived a severe electrocution, but both ears were also nicely sprouting an overabundance of unrecognizable flora or fauna.

  “Nick, likewise it is so good to see you,” Boritz replied as he leaned forward to give his esteemed friend a warm and hearty shake of the hand. “You know Mildred, my wife, don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I have had that pleasure on many occasions, although it must be quite some time since we last bumped into one another. Hmm. I think the occasion in question was probably some formal luncheon or dinner, although I’m ashamed to say that I can’t think quite where this event took place,” the doctor remarked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as if this act alone would bring to the forefront the remembrance required, for this event was still quite clearly alluding him.

  “Oh, deary me, this is quite, quite distressing to say the least!”

  “No, no, Dr. Ninkumpoop, or may I call you Nick? Don’t you remember that we met up at last year’s hospital fete when you asked me to be involved in the prize-giving ceremony?” she meekly informed the doctor, her eyes never leaving his for one second as she meltingly went on to give him a lingering handshake as though it were the hand of some famous celebrity or king.

  “Gosh, well then, that was some time ago, Mildred,” he stated, looking a trifle embarrassed. “You, my dear, clearly have a much better memory than my good self,” he said, giving her a warm, affectionate smile.

  Mildred seemed to suck up his last comment as though it was some extremely rare compliment.

  As Polly continued to listen to the slightly hysterical ramblings of the quirky doctor, she began to feel quite concerned and could only hope that his seeming hysteria was borne more out of immense personal happiness, as opposed to extreme madness. She hoped with all her heart that it was the former, as he was now the one person in the universe to which both her soul and mind—albeit against her will—was about to be entrusted.

  As Polly attempted to show some interest in their polite but meaninglessly trite conversation, which was constantly filled with uninspiring social pleasantries, her eyes were suddenly drawn to a blackboard that up until this moment in time she had completely failed to notice. As her eyes scrutinized the message written in pink chalk, she began to feel quite alarmed, for someone had rather cheekily scrawled, “You don’t have to be mad to work here, but it helps.”

  “Oh, goodness gracious me. I really am in the crazy house,” she wearily mused.

  “Now then, this must be the young whippersnapper, am I correct?” the doctor stated as through his thick glasses he observed her as though she were some rather vulgar-looking species of maggot under a microscope.

  “Yes, sir,” Polly mumbled.

  “Well, girl, don’t just sit there like a wilting cabbage going through the early stages of decomposition. Stand to attention when the good doctor is addressing you,” Mildred sharply rebuked.

  Polly, in an effort to be obedient, instantly jumped up from her seat, but with her head hung low she still only managed to whisper a very limp, deflated hello.

  “Goodness gracious, girl, you are so socially ill bred. You’ll have to do a lot better than that,” Mildred scornfully reprimanded.

  “It’s all right. I quite understand if the girl is feeling a little bit nervous and afraid. So let’s all go up to the hospital canteen and get a nice, hot cup of tea, shall we? After all is said and done, tea most surely is the priceless cup of life. Afterward I will take her up to the ward and introduce her to the staff that will be taking care of her.”

  On the way down to the canteen Boritz gave his wife a sly, hard dig in the ribs before mouthing a timely reminder that she was being most negligent in showing off her warm, maternal side. After all, it had over the years been a mutual agreement by both parties concerned that they would always behave in a certain manner and show great displays of affection toward the children and each other whenever they appeared in the public eye.

  The next five minutes saw a sulking Mildred walking along huffing and puffing as she expressed deep hurt at his harsh rebuke, for at the end of the day he obviously needed to be reminded that she was truly at the end of her tether where the young, socially maladjusted Polly Brown was concerned.

  As they sat at one of many plastic coated tables in the large, uninspiring, and almost empty canteen, the sounds dominating the entire air space were that of the kitchen staff yelling and shouting orders at each other as they prepared food and washed up large metal vats and other large bulky miscellaneous restaurant equipment.

  Conversation was kept to a minimum as, savoring tea that looked and tasted more like filthy soapy dishwater, they continued to endure the constant crashing around of pots and pans made by uncouth kitchen staff. However, none of this could even begin to quench the spirit of Dr. Ninkumpoop as he continued enthusiastically to blow his own trumpet concerning all his latest treatments, which were taking him across the globe and winning him top awards in the medical field. “I do believe I am the talk of the town at this moment. In fact, my ears are burning even as we speak,” he said, beaming from ear to ear.

  Polly looked over and began to imagine a forest fire burning away due to the amount of undesirable plumage sticking out from both ears.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’re being far too modest, doctor. You are surely well on your way to becoming world famous,” a sickly servile Mildred purred.

  Both Mildred’s and Boritz’s faces shone with pride as they listened intently to the scatty, egotistical doctor droning on and on about all the accolades he now had under his belt.

  “Please, somebody execute me now,” Polly groaned under her breath, as she was forced to sit still and pretend to show some sort of polite interest in their entirely sycophantic three-way conversation while she continued to be completely ignored, something she had grown quite used to.

  “Oh, Boritz old chum, while I’m at it I have just had some more very good news. Some darling old countess dowager who I had never heard of before but who, I’m told, has a most desirable and palatial residence somewhere just outside of Scunthorpe called me this morning to inform me that she wishes to pay for a brand new wing to be built onto the hospital. She gave me the address of her solicitor and suggested I call them, and they will then release the check.”

  “Goodness, Nick, that’s marvelous, but are you going to disclose how much the check will be for?”

  “Well, at this precise moment I am unprepared to disclose the amount, but let me tell you now it is an exceedingly large donation, in fact, the biggest we have ever received,” he ecstatically cried.

  “Unbelievable!” a very jealous Boritz muttered.

  “The reason she gave is simply that she is so concerned for many of our teenage children, many of whom are falling by the wayside and therefore in urgent need of specialist help.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “Now, if Polly is still residing with us when this brand new wing is finally finished, then naturally she will be transferred to this new section of the hospital. If the whole operation goes smoothly we are confident we will be able to open this new wing in perhaps the next twelve to eighteen months. Naturally, we will be inviting her to come and celebrate with us, and perhaps after downing a couple of glasses of champers she can then do the honor of cutting the ribbon.”

  “Nick, old boy, you have failed to reveal this generous-hearted lady’s name.”

  “Oh, forgive me, old boy, her name is Lady Ralphella Butterkist.”

  “By the way, Boritz old chap, there
must be an overabundance of philanthropists and other charitable people in the circles you move in, so are you at all familiar or acquainted with this particularly generous-hearted dowager?”

  “No, Nick, sad to say I don’t believe I’ve ever even heard of her, but I rather wish I had,” he soulfully sniffed, his voice trailing off. “Perhaps you might consider inviting both Mildred and my good self to your opening ceremony, and naturally this could be seen as the perfect excuse for you to introduce us over a small liquid lunch. If, as you suggest, she has such a heart for young people, then she might wish to show us the benevolent side of her nature, for our home is always looking for extra financial assistance, as our monthly expenditure runs well into the thousands!”

  “Hmm. I bet it does—and that doesn’t even begin to take into account your love of fine antiques, as well as all the private golf and yacht club expenses. Oh, and we mustn’t forget your passion for fine wines and restaurants either, old boy,” Dr. Ninkumpoop playfully suggested as he gave his good friend a hearty pat on the back. “Yes, you’ve always had a natural inclination for the finer things in life.”

  “Never a truer word spoken in jest, Nick, for I do have to take the odd bit of time off, as working with such problematic, dysfunctional children is, to say the least, very, very exhausting.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps it is.”

  “So how about it, old boy? Will you send us an invite to attend the grand occasion?” Boritz grinned as he now gave the doctor a number of equally hearty slaps on the back as if to fully seal the gentleman’s agreement.

  “Yes, of course, old chap. Count yourself in,” was the doctor’s friendly and swift response to Boritz’s very direct request.

  Much to Polly’s appreciation, the conversation eventually drew to a natural close. After placing his cup and saucer to one side, Dr. Ninkumpoop suggested that it was high time to take “the girl” up to the ward.

  Boritz used this latest announcement to remind the good doctor that he had agreed to a meeting with them. “Nick, old boy, don’t forget that we made an appointment with your secretary, for we felt the urgent need to have a quiet word in your ear before we leave to go home, or had you forgotten?”

  The absent-minded doctor once more looked more than a trifle embarrassed that he had, as they so rightly suggested, quite forgotten he had given his agreement for this meeting to take place. Therefore, he called for one of his nurses to take Polly and her sorry-looking, battered suitcase up to the ward. Polly stood up to leave with another haggardly, mature-looking nurse, and the doctor assured her that he would come up shortly to make sure she was comfortably settled in.

  As Polly was about to leave the room, she went over to where Aunt Mildred still sat nervously holding on to her almost-drained teacup to give her one last lingering hug and maybe a quick kiss good-bye.

  Mildred visibly stiffened to something of a rigid waxwork mannequin. She then quickly turned her head to one side to fend off the kiss that Polly intended to place on her right cheek. Squirming in her seat, Mildred finally placed her cup down and then suddenly lashed out, “Enough of this ridiculous nonsense, child. Just say your good-byes and be gone with you,” she cried.

  On being repelled in a manner not too dissimilar to that of some offensively vicious flesh-biting mosquito, Polly hurriedly removed her arms from around her aunt’s neck. She momentarily hesitated, then moved away to stand in the center of the waiting area, all the while wondering whether in the light of Aunt Mildred’s rejection it was even right to try and say good-bye to Uncle Boritz, for she was feeling seriously confused as to what should reasonably be expected of her. If she left the room failing to say a proper good-bye with a friendly hug or quick kiss, this surely would be perceived as her being disgracefully rude, and yet it was obvious that neither of her guardians really cared for even the smallest, most minimal amount of physical contact with her. Sadly for Polly, this latest occasion yet again deepened her plight of knowing with great certainty she was little more than a horrible stench under their continuously offended nostrils, and so everything she did or said caused their utter revulsion toward her to worsen. This sad little truth never failed to cause Polly unimaginable anguish, for to be abandoned by her mother felt practically impossible to overcome, but to then be hated and despised by the replacement mother, well, that made life truly unbearable.

  She therefore willingly allowed the withering, taut-faced nurse to take her hand and lead her away, leaving the doctor and her guardians to discuss her behind her back, as she knew they would. How Polly hated leaving that room, like many other rooms beforehand, because she feared the talk would not be good. She knew she had nobody in the whole wide world even remotely willing to represent her and maybe present some kinder aspects regarding her character, so she anticipated that her character would be brutishly ripped to shreds and sickeningly assassinated in her absence. She would have loved for someone, anyone, to question her guardians’ truthfulness when it came to telling the many grim Polly Brown horror stories that they both considered excellent tea time material.

  With Polly now making her way up to the ward, Dr. Ninkumpoop suggested that the Scumberrys follow after him to his office, where they could talk freely and unburden themselves of just about everything that might still be troubling their deeply concerned hearts.

  It was well over an hour before they stepped out of his office to head for home.

  “Well, Boritz, old chap, this private little chat has been, to say the least, most enlightening and informative, and so it will surely be of considerable help when it comes to constructing a mental hygiene plan for her to follow through. Knowing all this will also be crucial regarding what type of treatment we should opt for when dealing with her. I also promise to give great thought to all your helpful suggestions concerning the girl. Therefore, if it comes to the crunch, with all other avenues having been thoroughly exhausted, well then, I am certainly more than willing to consider giving her a round of electroconvulsive therapy.”

  “Thank you, Nick. We are deeply and profoundly indebted to you.”

  “I must say that though there have been a few alarming cases where certain patients have ended up as little more than catatonic dummies, there are many patients reporting great benefits from this alternative treatment. Why, I recently heard of one gentleman who, after many years of living as a recluse in a vegetative state of mourning, had the therapy, and his recovery was so incredibly successful that he recently opened up his own school of Latino dancing. Can you believe it?”

  “Quite, quite unbelievable!” Boritz sniffed as he gave Mildred’s hand a short, affirmative squeeze.

  “However, I must warn that if we were to go down this avenue, there are many even within the profession who see it as the most senseless and barbaric form of therapy and believe that it should be dispensed with forthwith. With the girl being as young as she is, it might well cause something of an outcry,” he stated as he contorted his facial expressions to add more weight to his concerns.

  “Well, they should try living with her, for they wouldn’t last a week,” Boritz rudely interrupted, his bottom lip drooping like that of a surly child.

  “Hmm. Quite! I therefore think that should we be forced to proceed down this path, we would be well advised to keep all this under our hats, yes, under wraps, so to speak.”

  “Mum’s the word,” Boritz cheerfully agreed, as he abandoned holding Mildred’s hand to take a hold of the doctor’s hand and give it a hearty shake and thereby make another informal gentleman’s agreement.

  “However, to my way of thinking, we should err on the side of caution and start with conventional methods, at least for the time being,” the doctor thoughtfully mused.

  “While I’m at it, Boritz, old chap, this might be as good a time as any to privately tell you that there is much talk about my moving on.”

  “Moving on?” a shocked Boritz queried.

  “Yes, for I, old chap, have been offered a wonderful teaching post in Geneva, and altho
ugh I have yet to fully make up my mind, the terms of the contract are, to say the least, highly favorable. If all this were to happen, there are two rather splendid candidates in the offing, Dr. Jellibone and Dr. Herringbone. Both, it appears, are originally from Trinity College and so are of immaculate pedigree; therefore, either candidate is perfectly suited for the job.”

  “Oh, but Nick, we would be so terribly sorry to see you go,” Mildred rather impertinently interjected, pulling a long, sad-looking face.

  “Well, thank you, Mildred, but I’m not gone yet. However, if I do take up the post, it will be left to the hospital board’s discretion as to which of these two potential candidates gets to take over for my good self. Anyway, old chum, you must understand that all this is at present highly confidential, so I would ask you to keep this little secret under your hat as well; there’s a good chap.”

  “Affirmative, Nick, old chum. As with everything else, mum’s the word. Thank you for entrusting us with your secret plans. Our lips are indeed thoroughly sealed, and so we will leave everything in your capable hands. Oh, and before we leave, please understand that we both feel it would be best if we stayed well away for the time being, as we really do need the break. We do trust that you will fully understand our position on this matter.”

  “Yes, yes, Boritz, although I have to suggest that if this proposed lack of involvement were to be for any lengthy amount of time, it might well affect the girl most adversely,” he solemnly stated, as he then strategically placed a finger to the bridge of his nose to prevent his spectacles from sliding down any further, for they were in imminent danger of slipping off the end of his long, irregular-shaped nose.

  On hearing this latest piece of private information, Boritz rather churlishly chose to pull another long, sullenly childish face, which the doctor, due to their longstanding friendship, once again chose to ignore.

  “Friends, do not allow yourselves the privilege of taking great offense, for please try to remember that you represent family to the girl, and so it is important that you do not thoroughly neglect your responsibilities toward her. May I be bold enough to state that you are all she has in this world,” he said over his thin-framed glasses.