The Trouble with Polly Brown

by Tricia Bennett

  “What, today?” an utterly shocked Boritz queried.

  “Wonderful, Boritz. So we have immediate agreement? For today, as any day goes, is a very, very good day. Now, I have already spoken with Dr. Ninkumpoop, and he is of the opinion that both he and his staff have done all they can for darling Polly. I therefore propose that you find it in your heart to sign your section of the release papers. I promise you, sir, that you will be greatly rewarded for your full cooperation in this otherwise delicate matter. As we speak, the dear doctor is most cheerfully filling in his section of the papers. Aren’t you, Poopy, my dear?” she called out to the now thoroughly inconsolable professor of the mind.

  “How priceless!” a confused and dumbfounded Boritz quietly muttered, shaking his head in pure disbelief as he tried and failed to imagine what on earth must be going on at the hospital for the good doctor to allow this woman to already be on such familiar and intimate terms that she could get away with calling him ‘Poopy’! He quickly came to the wrong conclusion that the dear lady must have parted company with yet another overly generous check. Why else would he allow himself to be called ‘Poopy’ in such a disparaging fashion?

  Meanwhile, a feeble and thoroughly demoralized Dr. Ninkumpoop grabbed hold of his teacup and began to furiously gulp down the remainder of its contents, his chosen way of attempting to drown all his sorrows. However, having taken a number of very large gulps, he suddenly found himself in the middle of the most frightful choking fit imaginable, which all too soon found him seriously struggling to take his last breath. Lady Butterkist seemed totally oblivious to this fresh crisis that had transpired in just a matter of a few seconds, as with her back turned she remained on the line, deep in serious discourse with Mr. Scumberry.

  Now doubled over, Dr. Ninkumpoop quickly began to go purple in the face as he desperately tried to gasp for air. Still struggling to breathe, he then shot up from where he was seated, choking, coughing, and heaving violently as he continued to struggle for air.

  All the while her ladyship continued to remain utterly oblivious to the life-threatening crisis going on behind her back as she stoically carried on her very intense negotiations with his very dear and close friend.

  Moments later, with hot tears streaming furiously down his face and with the help of two of his long, nimble fingers, the visibly shaken, discombobulated doctor finally managed to extract a large, white feather that rather mysteriously had lodged itself at the very back of his throat.

  Feeling feeble and thoroughly confused, he stood staring at the feather in disbelief as he realized that this stupid, insignificant white feather had in a matter of minutes almost brought his life to a horrid and most abrupt end. Now feeling seriously weak and in a turbulently homicidal mood, he stumbled like a crazed man back toward his desk and chair, wishing with his whole heart for this day, if not the whole world, to end—and sometime soon would be much preferred.

  With impeccable timing, Lady Butterkist turned around just in time to witness the forlorn doctor slumped over his desk in the manner of a limp lettuce considerably beyond all hope of revival. Catching his eye, she quickly placed her hand over the receiver.

  “How’s the tea?” she innocently mouthed in his direction, flashing him the sweetest smile before turning back to carry on with her serious bargaining.

  The poor, bewildered doctor was on the verge of physically tearing out his hair. However, as he had not been overly blessed with a decent enough crop of hair to take up this latest challenge, he therefore opted to give his forehead a couple of hard bangs on the desk. He felt forced into these extreme actions, as he could no longer control an inner compulsion to begin venting some of his most potent pent-up feelings of pure rage and anger, which he no longer wished to contain or disguise for as much as one more miserable moment.

  Now, to be perfectly honest, Boritz wasn’t faring much better either, as he too was now feeling considerably vexed, for up until this moment in time he had not the faintest clue that this difficult request was going to be the first demand on her long list of requests. What on earth would be coming next? he anxiously deliberated.

  He knew instantly that Mildred would be furious with him, but what else could he do? At the end of the day he really was no fool, and he knew for certain that if he did not show himself both eager and willing to comply with all her seemingly innocent requests, then she would most certainly decline his invitation to join them for tea and cakes at the castle. This could never be allowed to happen, no, not in a month of Sundays, as with all his heart he believed that in terms of financial support this meeting was vitally crucial.

  “All right, Lady Butterkist. You have my humble and sincere word on this one. So pray, tell me something of your second request.”

  “Hmm. Mr. Scumberry, strange as this might seem, I wish to become something of a guardian to young Polly.”

  “Guardian! Madam, please grant me the pleasure of fully explaining yourself, for I am now most confused as to what possibly you mean by all of this, as she already has a legal guardian, who, I might add, just happens to be me.”

  “Oh, if only that were truly so, Mr. Skunkbelli, then she would not have been abandoned to the confines of this painfully pitiful institution. But setting this aside for the present, I am just after some form of loose involvement. Yes, I would like to be considered something of a guardian, although in this special case there would be no involvement whatsoever with the courts. Call it an honorable agreement amongst ourselves if you must.”

  “No judicial involvement?”

  “None whatsoever! Mr. Skunkbelly, there wouldn’t be any sort of legally binding contract or obligation. Oh, no. This would merely be a pact between friends, so to speak, and I take it we are now friends?”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “This way, whenever I am passing by I can hopefully consider popping in to the castle to see how Polly is doing and at the same time hand over another check. I mean, would the scenario I have just described fit comfortably with you and your good wife?”

  “Who, Mildred?”

  “Well, I cannot say categorically that she is your good wife, for only you two know if you truly ever tied the knot and thus have a marriage that is legally binding and recognized by the church. But if I’m not mistaken she is your other half, is she not?”

  “Yes, yes, Lady Butterkist. We are indeed well and truly joined at the hip. But I assure you now that Mildred will do exactly as I say, for in truth she has absolutely no other choice.”

  “Splendid! You know something, Mr. Scumberry? I like a man who is bold and fearless and knows how to keep a woman in her place.”

  “Really, Lady Butterkist?”

  “Yes, really. There are not nearly enough men of such flawless moral caliber around these days,” she said.

  “Why thank you, Lady Butterkist, for it is well known in these parts that I keep my dear wife-in-strife exactly where she truly belongs, and that is rigidly under my thumb,” he stated as he began to glow from head to foot.

  “Yes, under your fat thumb and squashed to a seedless pulp,” Lady Butterkist murmured under her breath.

  “I think I am beginning to like this woman,” he muttered, at the same time placing his hand over the receiver to ensure his furtive comment remained private.

  “Oh, Mr. Scumberry, I am so very pleased that we are seeing things eye to eye like this, for this shows that we are on track for a very long and rewarding relationship, and I just happen to believe that, like most young, vulnerable children, Polly is a wonderful and very gifted child. I’m sure, as with everything else, you will readily agree with me on this one too.”

  “Yes, yes.” He coughed and spluttered.

  “Good. Then do I have your full cooperation on this one also?”

  “Oh, absolutely, dear woman. Absolutely!”

  “Oh, good. Now I am already halfway through, so almost nearing my last request. I do believe that I’m already up to number three. Am I correct in my thinking?”

&nbs
p; “Yes, Lady Butterkist. This next request will indeed count as your third.”

  “Good, because sometimes I get a little confused when it comes down to numbers, or so my faithful butler, Blenkinsopp, tells me.”

  “Yes, well we all get to that stage in life where we momentarily begin to struggle. I think we rather aptly call them ‘senior moments.’”

  “Yes, Mr. Scumberry, I happen to think you’re absolutely right on that one. Trouble is, my senior moments seem more and more to be joining up,” she said, giving a deep, very resigned sigh.

  “Well, madam, you seem perfectly clear in the head as far as I’m concerned,” he consoled. “So pray, tell me, what might your third request be?”

  “Well, now that you ask, I am more than hoping that you will happily succumb to my splendid idea of taking Polly away on a little adventure.”

  “Adventure?”

  “Oh, don’t sound so surprised, Mr. Scumberry, for I am more than a little inclined to believe that dear Polly is in desperate need of some sort of holiday break to recoup after her very ghastly and most elongated stay in this dreadful hospital. Yes, months of interrogation under the guise of therapy has, I believe, left the child utterly broken and demoralized, so I was thinking of taking her down to the west country for the next few months. I promise you, hand on heart, that she will keep up with her schoolwork, so you need not be the slightest bit worried or concerned about that.”

  “Oh, homework? Oh yes, yes.”

  “You know, Boritz, I am inclined to believe that she will need this length of time if she is to have any hope of making a full recovery from this very painful time in her life,” she mused.

  “Oh, help me. How much worse can this get?” he cried as the now very shocked Doctor Ninkumpoop momentarily stopped filling in Polly’s release forms to rather petulantly throw down his pen. “How can this inexcusably rude and abhorrently abrasive lady be so dismissive of all my selfless, pioneering work,” he mournfully muttered. “The cheek of the woman!”

  “Uh!” sniffed Boritz, as talk of a holiday instantly produced large monetary signs that immediately began flashing in front of his eyes. “Lady Butterkist, please understand me when I say that we’d love to give Polly and all the other pitiful paupers, I mean children, a well-deserved holiday. But sadly, I happen to believe that at this present time it is quite out of the question, for there is simply not enough money in the coffers. Sadly, we are all having to endure certain hardships back here at the castle. I hate to admit this, but we are not exactly flush with money at present.”

  “Oh no, good sir, you have me wrong, for I am in no way requesting any monetary contribution from your good self. Oh, no, no, no,” she tutted. “This would be coming entirely out of my own purse strings. I would very much like it if Polly were allowed to accompany me down to the west country. There is a most wonderful daffodil farm down there that I believe Polly will simply love and adore.”

  “What? A daffodil farm?”

  “Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing, Mr. Scum-belly, for rest assured it will be a working holiday.”

  “A working holiday? I’m glad to hear it!”

  “Yes, for I believe hard, physical work is not only extremely gratifying, but it is also very good for the soul. She will work alongside many other youngsters, and by the end of the day she will indeed flop into bed exhausted but very happy. Trust me on this one.”

  “Oh, trust me too, dear lady, when I say that I also favor hard, physical work.”

  “Oh, Mr. Skunkbelli, I have no problem believing you on that that one! So Polly will be working very hard alongside other youngsters as they plant vegetables, groom horses, feed chickens, climb trees to pick apples, and take a scythe to the corn harvest. I wonder, have you ever had that most wonderful experience that comes from being ‘lord of the applecart,’ Mr. Scumberry? For it is a most exhilarating feeling, I assure you now.”

  “No, no, Lady Butterkist. Trust me when I say that I have never felt the need for such things. Such affirmations are for other lesser, struggling mortals, for I already enjoy the pleasure of being lord of the manor, so to speak.”

  “Ahh, well, what is truly wonderful is that Polly will be blessed with the opportunity of working in the fields, as well as with a variety of animals, and their gentile influence will be most beneficial in allowing her the necessary length of time required if we are to believe for a full recovery.”

  “Hmm. Fair enough, although I’m still not sure I entirely understand where you’re coming from,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “Besides, if she were to have this little break, Boritz—may I still call you Boritz?”

  “Oh, Lady Butterkist, I would be so delighted if you would,” he fawned.

  “Well, think of it this way then, Boritz dear: if Polly were to come away with me, it would then allow Mildred the space she might well need to come to terms with Polly returning home at such short notice. So can you not see a certain sense of rightness about my proposed plan?”

  Poor Boritz could clearly see that this would give him the much-needed extra time required, for he knew for sure that when his good wife heard this latest piece of unsavory news, she was likely to explode to a degree not witnessed by man since the catastrophic eruption of Mount Vesuvius many moons ago. He therefore had no difficulty believing that the next few weeks at the castle would be an intolerably miserable affair as she spoiled handkerchief after handkerchief in her urgent and most dire need to vent a large amount of deeply rooted frustration from her most inconsolably wounded spirit.

  “Yes, Lady Butterkist. I am beginning to think that your admirable plan would be most advantageous to all parties concerned.”

  “Splendid! Now let’s quickly move on to my fourth request, and this is that I require you to contact the school’s formidable headmaster, Mr. Batty, and confirm that Polly will be back at the school in a little over two months’ time, yes, just in time to start the new school term, which, if I am correct, starts on September the seventh?”

  “Oh, goodness gracious me! I don’t think he will be happy to oblige with regard to this most specific request,” he said, reeling back from her latest proposal.

  “Oh, rest assured, Mr. Scumbelly, he will! I hope you don’t mind, but I have already taken the liberty of speaking with him earlier this morning, and he has assured me that as long as you are in perfect agreement, then he will willingly take her back. I have also assured him that despite Polly being out of school for almost eighteen long months, she will be up to the task by the time she is ready to return.”

  Poor Boritz felt like a mutilated animal that was now completely cornered, and so he was left with little choice other than to concede fully to her fourth demand.

  “Finally we arrive at my very last request, and this is, quite simply, that I would very much like to escort Polly home today. I was thinking if we, meaning Giles Blenkinsopp as well as my good self, were to board the coach along with the other ladies and gentlemen that you’ve already invited to tea, then perhaps you would allow me the privilege of joining you and your good wife for this special and most splendid occasion.”

  Boritz could hardly believe his ears, for ever since Dr. Ninkumpoop had first made mention of her, he had spent a considerable length of time trying to mastermind ways that would have her agreeing to pay a timely visit. Now, out of the blue and of her own volition, she was the one requesting permission to come to his castle, and he had not even had to put pen to paper to send out one of his usual begging letters. How amazing was that! He mouthed a silent thank-you to the heavens before responding.

  “Mr. Scumbelly, or rather, Boritz, I do believe you have gone deathly silent on me, so is there a problem with my last request? Speak up, my good man. I strongly urge you.”

  “Oh, not at all, not at all, Lady Butterkist. I can safely speak for both Mildred as well as my good self when I say that we would consider it a truly great honor for you to pay us a little visit.”

  “Splen
did, then lay a further two places at the table, for Giles Blenkinsopp, my trustworthy butler, and my good self will be with you before you can say, ‘Is there any mustard in this custard?’”

  “Yes, madam. Rest assured, you will be treated in a manner befitting a queen.”

  “Oh, Boritz, please see to it that you don’t treat me any differently from any of the other guests, that is, unless we are all to be treated like royalty.”

  “Oh, yes, madam. That goes without saying. They will all be given royal treatment, but you, my dear, well, this special day you will be our queen of hearts,” he obsequiously fawned.

  “How touching, for whether you know it or not, I am all about hearts, changes of heart in particular,” she muttered.

  “Pardon me, madam. I didn’t quite understand what you meant by that last statement.”

  “Oh, nothing to worry your very ambitious little head about. You know something, Boritz? It’s amazing how easily things work out when we all get our heads together and then concede to bow to each other’s expansive ideas,” she wearily sighed as she placed the receiver down.

  “Now then, Poopy, my boy, have you almost finished the paperwork? Wonderful. Then let us head back to the ward.”

  The doctor readily agreed, as he was feeling terribly broken if not a trifle nauseated by her conversation with Boritz, mainly due to her continual references that associated him with dung. After all, poop and dung were very much in the same category, if not the same thing, were they not? This day, this moment, there was nothing more he wanted to do other than go home to bed and have a good old bawl into his pillow.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  NOW EVERYONE WANTS A PIECE OF THE ACTION

  Meanwhile, back in Piadora there was much talk of throwing a grand-scale impromptu party, for word had spread like wildfire that Ralph had succeeded in his mission, and as a result Polly was on the verge of leaving the hospital. As a result of this truly wonderful story circulating Piadora, a large number of angelic beings began to congregate, as they desired to hear more.