The Trouble with Polly Brown

by Tricia Bennett

  “Oy! Give it back to me,” an angry voice yelled.

  “No chance, mate. I got ’er first,” came the quick and abrasive reply.

  “Grr. I swear you’ll pay for this later when you get the fat lip you deserve, moron,” the other boy gruffly hissed. “Yeah, I’ll punch yer lights out, really I will.”

  “Yeah? You and whose army?” the other boy spat back.

  The younger ones wisely and therefore cautiously held back while the older children carried on.

  “’Ere, don’t shove me out the way!” another boy yelled as he put up his fists to show he was more than ready for a fight if need be.

  Lady Butterkist watched and waited to see if Mildred would take charge and use some much-needed discipline, but it was not to be. It was as though she were either blind to the deep, underlying frustration of the children or she didn’t care. Either way, Lady Butterkist felt she was left with little choice but to try and intervene before things got a whole lot uglier than they already were.

  “Children, shame on the lot of you!” she loudly and abruptly cried. “Please do us all a favor by stopping all this nonsensical squabbling immediately!”

  All the children stopped in their tracks as though they were in the middle of a game of musical statues. The older ones stood with their mouth wide open, looking utterly dumbstruck as they tried and failed to comprehend quite what was going on. Their anger showed itself in their bright red faces and quivering lips, as they now struggled to hold back their outrage.

  “Come along, children. It is time to show some manners,” Mildred brusquely intervened, her motive clear to all. This was her domain and so therefore her problem alone to address if need be.

  Lady Butterkist ignored this as she continued to speak her mind. “Surely you could at least show some kindness to one another. And as for the older ones amongst you, would it not be considerate to let the younger ones help themselves to some pie first? In fact, some of you older children should surely help the younger ones by kindly bringing a plate of pie to them,” she dared to suggest.

  Mildred stopped serving the pie, as she also was now desperately struggling to hide her anger at the continued actions of the impudent Lady Butterkist, who by taking over and challenging the way things were done, was, in her eyes, completely out of order!

  So, Lady Muck now thinks she can step in and become Lady Bloomin’ Bountiful, does she? And without my express permission! Mildred fumed. How dare this cantankerous old biddy even begin to think she can override my authority in such a despicable manner. I’ve had more than a bellyful of this so-called lady.

  “Mildred, I profusely apologize for interfering in matters that ordinarily should not concern me.”

  “You’re quite right there!” Mildred replied as she failed miserably to hide her annoyance.

  “However, this is not the first but the second time today that I have borne witness to the most unbelievably hostile and extremely unpleasant manners and attitudes; therefore, I can no longer remain silent as a lamb, as I am most incensed by all I’ve seen. These children are, I believe, in very short supply of kindness toward each other, and it cannot fail but make me wonder quite what else goes on behind these castle walls.”

  Mildred stiffened as she tried hard to swallow her pride and show some humility in her answer.

  “Lady Butterkist, please try hard to forgive us all our sinful weaknesses, for there are mitigating circumstances here, I assure you. The children are very exhausted, for they have stayed up extremely late the entire week, as they wished to properly rehearse for this event. None of them are usually this grumpy and mean with one another. I fear they are all just a trifle overtired,” she said as she tried hard to excuse all that had taken place.

  “I should say so,” Lady B quickly interjected.

  “Well, to be perfectly honest, the play also got them all a little overexcited, and when they are anxious, they do indeed become more aggressive. But much of that has to do with their unfortunate childhoods, so the blame for the majority of today’s bad behavior, I believe, primarily lies elsewhere. Anyway, these are small, insignificant details; the bigger picture is surely what matters. Don’t you agree?” she said as, smarting from the criticism, she felt an urgent need to justify herself.

  “Mildred, I quite understand that the children are overtired, but it still does not excuse all I have witnessed, and if I am in any way to offer financial assistance—for I believe that is what you are hoping for—well then, these so-called small details require your full and immediate attention.”

  “Oh, yes indeed, Lady Butterkist. We will certainly do our best to sort things out, for at the end of the day we are a warm and very close-knit family. Aren’t we, children?”

  There was a deathly hush in the room, so much so you could easily have heard a pin drop.

  “Children, must I repeat myself again? We are a close-knit family, aren’t we?” a now very demoralized Aunt Mildred demanded to know. “Children, answer me when I speak, for I do require an answer.”

  “Yes, Aunt Mildred,” they morosely replied.

  “Those appletude pies had better begin their good work, and soon,” a very agitated Lady B. managed to mumble under her breath.

  “Mildred, pray, tell me, has Polly already gone up to her brother’s room, or otherwise where is she?”

  “Oh, Lady Butterkist, after she changed she was then whisked away by Boritz to go and join her friend Lucinda. As we speak, Boritz is probably amusing them all with one wild cock-’n’-bull story after another. Such is his forte,” she halfheartedly laughed.

  “Very well. Then please lead the way, for it will be dark before we know it, and we must soon get on the road.”

  However, before she could leave, Lady Butterkist felt she could not leave without addressing the children one final time. “Children, forgive my involvement in this situation, but I have found it most grievous and perplexing to stand and watch. If I can leave you with one small but sound piece of advice, it would be this: I assure you now that all your lives would feel a lot richer and happier if you were to think of showing each other a little more courtesy and consideration. Is that not true, Mildred?”

  “Oh, yes, yes—perfectly true, Lady Butterkist.”

  “After all, I happen to believe that all you handsome young boys are fine gentlemen in the making, so it is inconceivable that such decent, self-respecting boys would stoop so low as to be both foul-mouthed and quarrelsome by threatening each other with fat lips and bleeding noses at the drop of a hat, in this case over a small, insignificant amount of apple pie,” she sadly stated as she witnessed a large piece of pie on the floor that had clearly been overlooked by Pitstop.

  “And as for you lovely young ladies, well, it is pretty clear to me that you are certainly princesses in training, and every princess I’ve ever had the good fortune to meet has been a most gentle and gracious creature and certainly not given to aggressive acts such as hair-pulling and hurtful name-calling. So think on these things, will you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the younger children happily responded.

  “So no hard feelings, eh, children?” she said as she persisted to give them all a cheerful and friendly smile. “Now go and enjoy the remainder of the delicious apple pie,” she gently ordered.

  The older children manifested great resilience to her command by not twitching or budging an inch. Instead, they chose to stand perfectly still looking intensely tight-lipped and strained, for clearly they were not the slightest bit amused by her severe reprimand.

  The younger ones, however, were of an entirely different mind and so reciprocated by breaking into beautiful smiles that very nicely showed off their irregular and gappy teeth as they lifted their hands to brightly and warmly wave good-bye to the very nice lady. They then wasted no time at all in heading off toward the table to do just as the kind lady had suggested, and that was to get their fair share of the pie before the older ones finally came to their senses and once again adopted their previou
s bullying positions by roughly pushing them aside so that they alone could quickly gobble down every last crumb.

  “Oh, by the way, Mildred. One last thing. Can you explain to me why that child over there, Gailey, I believe her name to be, is wearing the dress, shoes, and tiara that only a matter of a few hours ago I gave as a personal gift to Polly?”

  “Oh, dear. I had not noticed. Perhaps Polly allowed Gailey to try the dress on. Yes, that will be it,” she unconvincingly stuttered and spluttered, her face going a deep scarlet.

  “Well, forgive me, but I would be most pleased if you were to ask Gailey to kindly hand it back to me, as Polly will be needing to take this dress away with her on holiday. You see, I am planning the odd surprise party or two.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “So kindly see to it that everything is back in her possession before we take our leave.”

  “Yes, Lady Butterkist. I will go and speak with Gailey right now and order her to immediately take off the dress,” a very embarrassed Mildred miserably mumbled. “So please wait here, and as soon as the dress is back in your possession, we will go and find Polly and the others.”

  “And the tiara.”

  “Yes, of course. The tiara as well.”

  “Oh, I’d be most delighted if the shoes too were also to be returned, as I’m sure you will wholeheartedly agree with me that they do much to complete the ensemble.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  Mildred left Lady Butterkist and marched like a poker-faced drill sergeant over to where Gailey still stood to whisper sweet nothings directly in her ear.

  “Gailey, get that bloomin’ dress off right now,” she muttered.

  “Why?” Gailey loudly moaned.

  “Shh. Don’t argue with me. Just do as you’re told, girl,” Mildred ordered through clenched teeth.

  “It’s not fair. The dress is now mine. Uncle Boritz told me—”

  “Gailey, shut up and just do as you’re told, or else I’ll be forced to rip it off you myself. Do you understand me?” she growled.

  Gailey’s face dropped a mile as with her nose now completely out of joint she turned to sulkily make her way out of the room to change out of the dress.

  “Oh, and she wants the shoes and tiara as well,” Mildred called out after her.

  “If I can’t have this rotten old dress then neither can she,” she raged as she tore the dress from her body, deliberately ripping it at the seams. Kicking off the shoes, she then angrily picked them up, only to throw them hard against the wall.

  “Stupid, stinky shoes. Who wants them anyway?” she cried.

  After walking over to pick up them up from where they were strewn, she then rather spitefully proceeded to dig out the little diamond sequins that made a delightfully pretty pattern on the front section of both shoes. Not quite finished, she then willfully threw the tiara to the floor and began to crush it underfoot until she was thoroughly satisfied that the tiara was irretrievably damaged.

  “There, Fester. You are now officially deposed,” she sniggered. “Yep, Polyester, all’s fair in love and war.”

  With a big smile finally alighting her otherwise forlorn face, she willfully scrunched the torn dress into a tight ball before tossing it, along with the shoes and desecrated tiara back, into its original bag. Then, reaching for the folded pink tissue that earlier had played its part in keeping the gift a hidden surprise, she used that same tissue paper to hide her latest mean and foul crime.

  All meaningful conversation between Mildred and Lady Butterkist was utterly depleted due to the sheer awkwardness of this latest inexcusable and most embarrassing situation.

  Gailey quickly handed over the bag to Aunt Mildred before racing off to join the other older children.

  “My profuse apologies, Lady Butterkist,” Mildred forced herself to mutter as she dutifully handed the bag over.

  “Apology accepted,” Lady B quickly responded.

  “Now, I think without further adieu we should make haste in finding our way back to the sitting room,” Mildred tersely announced.

  Mildred chose to keep all her thoughts to herself as she efficiently escorted Lady Butterkist back to their private sitting room to collect Polly. “Who on earth does holier-than-thou Lady Mucktruck think she is?” she angrily mumbled under her breath. “I don’t know how much more of this impossible woman I can reasonably be expected to tolerate. Really I don’t,” she quietly moaned.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  JAMES AND POLLY GET REACQUAINTED

  HAVING FINALLY COME to rescue Polly from Uncle Boritz’s very oppressive charms, Mildred and Lady Butterkist left the rest of the party, and taking Polly with them, they headed up the heavy oak staircase to make their way to the boys’ dormitory. They walked in complete silence as they turned down one long corridor after another before finally reaching the closed door of the dormitory that held the sick child.

  “Mildred, before we head in, forgive me for asking, but what exactly is young James’s malady?”

  “Well, as you ask, Dr. Glumchops, the family practitioner, says he has unluckily suffered from a spot of very distressing pneumonia. But mark my words, he’s well on his way to a full recovery,” she said very taut-lipped.

  “Well, I daresay Polly must be most relieved to hear that her brother is finally on the mend,” Lady Butterkist casually remarked as she followed Mildred into the room.

  “James, how good it is to get to see you at last,” Polly joyfully cried as she rushed over to his bed to greet him with one of her overpoweringly humongous hugs. “I’m so happy to see you. Oh, you’ll never know just how happy just seeing you makes me feel. I feel as though I could explode with joy and excitement,” she shouted as she once again threw herself into his arms.

  “Polly, if you hug me any tighter, I swear I’ll suffer more than a few cracked ribs,” James half joked as he began to cough and wheeze.

  “James, you still look so poorly to me. Are you eating enough?” Polly asked out of deep concern as she drew back to stare him directly in the eye.

  James tilted his face downward and chose to completely ignore the question.

  “Polly, it is so good to see you. I am so glad you are finally home, and I am at a loss for words because you look so—”

  “Positively glowing! I think they’re the two words you’re looking for,” Lady Butterkist quickly interjected.

  “You’re bang on, for she looks really great,” James replied, breaking into a big smile.

  “Well, James, I’m actually feeling pretty good right now, as well as ridiculously excited, for I need to let you know that I am going away, although only for a short while, as dear Lady B. feels the break will do me a lot of good. We are heading down to the west country, and apparently the scenery down there is magnificently splendid.”

  “Polly, I’m very glad for you, for it all sounds very wonderful,” James said with a caring smile.

  “Well, to be perfectly honest, I would so love for you to come along with us, and I would also love for you to meet dear, sweet Lucy, for she has become such a close friend to me. Imagine what fun we would all have if you were able to join us,” she cried.

  “That’s really nice, Polly,” James croaked. “You go and have a good time for both of us, and remember to bring me back a whopping big stick of pink sugary rock,” he said as he tried to laugh.

  Lady Butterkist was greatly troubled to see that he then stopped as he clutched his chest. All sudden movement, laughter included, seemed still much too painful for him to bear.

  “James, I’ll not only bring you the biggest stick of rock candy that I can find, but I’ll also send you a dozen or more postcards too,” she said brightly as she continued to clutch his small hand ever so tightly.

  “By the way, have you any new model planes for me to admire?”

  James once more tilted his head down and seemed a bit distracted and therefore most reluctant to answer her.

  “Come on, James. It’s not too difficult a question to a
nswer, is it?”

  “No, Polly, sadly I haven’t,” he quietly admitted.

  “Well, have you had the others returned?” she brazenly dared to ask as she quickly made a mental note of the fact that his bedside locker was completely bare.

  “Uh, hmm…well, not yet.”

  “What do you mean by ‘not yet’? Remember I have been gone nearly a whole two years!” she cried.

  James hesitated before answering. “Well, I think Uncle Boritz has had a lot of trouble remembering just where he hid them,” James feebly mumbled.

  “Nonsense! That’s just another one of his very lame and mean excuses,” Polly lashed out. “It’s just not right.”

  “Polly, please try hard not to upset James or your good self. Try to keep things on a more positive note. There’s a dear,” Mildred, who was hovering nearby listening in, curtly interrupted.

  However, Polly wasn’t in any mind to listen.

  “Anyway, if you don’t mind me asking, how on earth did you manage to catch pneumonia?” Polly dared to ask.

  James once more dropped his head as if to say that due to present company, he was unable to give specifics.

  This seemingly insignificant event did not go unnoticed by Lady Butterkist.

  An anxious Mildred quickly moved forward, as she was quite unprepared for Polly to continue on in this unacceptable vein by alluding to certain unwarranted and therefore outrageous questions. She was therefore very glad as well as relieved by her decision to remain present while they had their first conversation since Polly left for the hospital some two years previous.