The Trouble with Polly Brown (25 page)

“I mean, once you have riches, you spend the rest of your life worrying about trying to keep hold of them.”

“Quite what do you mean by that?” she sniffed.

“OK, you buy a priceless piece of art, and you are then faced with putting it on a wall in your house or placing it in a vault. If you leave it on the wall, you might find yourself being burgled. So you now have a choice of having very costly insurance and expensive camera equipment installed in and around your property, or you place it for safekeeping in a vault. Truth is, do you ever really enjoy it? Left on the wall you worry about it. Stored in a vault you have little time to fully appreciate it. And this is but one small example, Polly. So tell me now, does that sound like a life of freedom?” he asked with more than a note of weariness in his tone of voice.

“Sounds just like Uncle Boritz, for making money, and lots of the stuff, is what makes the blood pump 'round his heart and course through his veins. I do believe that no one hates parting with it more than him. It's enough to give him a seizure,” she commented with a sigh. “But even so, Will, being as poor as a church mouse isn't much fun either.”

“Well then, that should give you even more reason and motivation to work hard at school so that you can have a future that's worth looking forward to,” he said, jumping up from the floor. He then grabbed her hand to help her to her feet.

“So, Polly Brown, the smartest girl for miles around, let's start right here and right now to turn things round. You say that you will not be going to the theater due to lack of finances. Well then, Polly, we will have to create our very own private theater,” he said as he raced across the floor and then began to drag a long table toward the center of the room. “Come on, Polly. Help me out. Grab the other end of the table. That's perfect. So you see, Cinders shall go to the ball after all.”

“What precisely do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I just said.”

“Come on, Will. Speak plain English, for I fear you're beginning to sound a little crazy.”

“No, Polly. On this occasion you're definitely wrong, for which of these is the more crazy: to lie down and accept defeat without doing everything within your power to change the things that are causing you such deep misery, or to fight with all your might to at least try and change the things you can?”

“So how do you propose to help things change for me, Will? I'd like to know, truly I would.”

“Step by step, little by little, brick upon brick. Tell you what, Polly. How do you eat an elephant?”

“I've absolutely no idea,” she innocently replied.

“One spoonful at a time,” Will answered back before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Ho ho ho,” Polly sarcastically responded, as she was now beginning to feel a little annoyed with him.

“Seriously, though. That is how we will tackle the mountain of setbacks in your life—one small spoonful at a time. The good news, Polly, is it can begin here, today.”

“What? Today? Come on, Will. Don't be so daft and naïve.”

“Yes, right here, right now! So come on, Polly Brown, do me a huge favor and climb up onto the table,” he ordered with a forcefulness she had not seen before. “We will turn the tables 'round by making up our own plays, yes, hundreds of them, all filled to overflowing with murder, mystery, great passion, and the like,” he announced as he jumped up on the table to join her. “Who knows? We might write so many that one day, just like Shakespeare and Dickens, we might become so famous that schoolchildren all across the world will be acting out our plays.”

“M'lud, ladies and gentleman, may I have your full attention, as for the first time ever I present to you the wonderful, awesome, indubitable talents of Miss Polly Brown, who, if you are not yet fully aware, is without a shadow of doubt the sweetest young lady this side of town.”

Polly blushed and let out a giggle. “Oh, Will. You really are a bit crazy,” she mused.

“No, just a bit different,” he earnestly replied as he grabbed her hand and continued to hopelessly overact.

“So come, my lady, let us make haste to learn something of the tragic and sadly blighted lives of these star-crossed lovers named Romeo and Juliet,” he shouted into the air as without warning he grabbed the book back from out of her hand, causing her to almost topple off the table, for she was so startled.

Will and Polly continued to make it a habit of spending time together whenever they could inside and out of school. Some weeks after Polly first accompanied him to his house, Will once again offered to chaperone her home from school. On the way, Polly turned to her new friend and told him that she really wanted to take him on a little detour.

A few minutes later they found themselves standing outside the entrance door of a big, old, beautiful church.

“Will, this is where I sing in the choir, so let me show you something that is my secret alone.” After entering the church, Polly took Will through a small door that said “Private” and then up some stone steps until they came to a place where yet another set of steps meandered of on the right side. However, these steps were roped off, and so were presumably out of bounds. “Quick, Will, climb under this rope,” Polly assertively ordered.

“But it says, ‘Strictly no admittance.'”

“I know, but please trust me, for I want to show you my secret hiding place,” she whispered.

As they continued climbing, the steps grew narrower and narrower. Soon they were both standing in a small bell tower.

“This is my special hiding place, Will,” Polly breathlessly stated. “Don't you think it's funny that just like Quasimodo, I too have my own bell tower in which to hide away?”

“Polly, help me out here, for I really can't quite see the connection between you and Quasimodo.”

“Oh, right,” she nervously laughed.

“No, really.”

“Well, he was so ugly he had to hide away in a bell tower, and as I am like him, then I too have my own bell tower in order to hide away.”

Will shook his head as though taken by surprise by what she so nonchalantly stated as though it were fact.

“But Polly, what on earth is going on inside that mixed-up head of yours? You're nothing like Quasimodo!”

“Oh, but I am. He was an ugly monster that people made fun of, and so am I. So it is fitting that just like him I have my tower to hide away in,” she said in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice.

Will was silent.

Polly moved across to the other side of the room and began to stare down at the street below. “Come over here, Will, for if you look down, you will see that all the people look like little ants from here,” she brightly stated.

“Polly, I need to get you home,” he very anxiously stated.

“Oh, Will. Don't be such a bore. Do we have to go?” she moaned.

“Yes, it's getting late. But we must talk more about this some time, because at times you really seem a little crazy to me, besides which, this bell tower is really very dangerous. Look, there are parts of the floor that have completely rotted away. You could easily fall to your death, and trust me when I say that nobody would ever find you.”

“Maybe that would be a good thing, for no one would care if that happened,” Polly rather sadly muttered under her breath.

“It really isn't safe for you to be up here at all,” he remonstrated. “Besides, you could well be breaking the law.”

“What law, Will? This is a church! As a rule of thumb, policemen don't tend to come up here, and as I'm not stealing the candles or the hymn books, I have done nothing wrong.”

“Yes, but it's still not right,” he emphatically stated.

“I know all that, Mr. Goody Two-Shoes, but this is the only place I know to come where I can hide away from all the sheer craziness of my life,” she groaned.

“Come on, Polly. Let's not argue about who's right and who's wrong. Let's just get out of here now,” he hastily suggested.

Polly simply shrugged her shoulders, as rather reluctantly she followed him down the steep steps and prepared to go home.

As they neared the castle, Polly felt all the old fear return. How crazy she was to have shown Will her secret hideout, and she also knew for certain that she was just as crazy to have agreed to go back to Will's house in the first place. She felt certain that she would be seriously rebuked for not making the tea on time, and even if she worked at a furious pace, her chores would take her well into the early hours of the next morning.

Will must have sensed her anxiety, as he directly asked what was troubling her.

“Nothing, Will. I'm just being stupid, really I am,” was her very nervous reply.

Will did not look convinced, but he pushed no further.

“Look, Polly, I'm so sorry if at times I come over as a little stern. It's just that I really care about you, and the thought of you hiding away in that frightfully small and very dangerous bell tower is, quite frankly, very distressing.”

“Thanks for even caring,” she sighed.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.

“Oh, if only. Look, Will, I've had a great time, really I have, but for reasons that I cannot speak of at the moment, I am not sure when I will be allowed out to see you again,” she said, her voice sounding frail and tinged with sadness.

“That's fine, but you now owe me,” replied Will.

“Owe you for what?

“The challenge, of course.”

“Oh, that. Yes, William Montgomery, you've won the challenge, hands down. You made me very happy, because for a short moment in history I actually forgot that I have so many problems to cope with.”

“Ahh, so I did win? Therefore, Polly Brown, may I ask you to put all this down in writing?”

“Hmm. So I suppose this is the bit where you kneel down in front of me, and I'm meant to draw a sword and tap you on both shoulders as I most solemnly knight you ‘Sir Galahad'?” she stated with a distinct air of pomposity.

“Oh no, my sweet, fair one. You can leave that honor till later, when I have shown thee that I am forever at thy side, ready to serve and protect thee, hereby rescuing thee from the tower in which thou are slavishly imprisoned, even if it means slaying a ferocious, demonical dragon or two.”

Polly tried to stifle a giggle but failed miserably.

“So allow me the privilege of telling thee that I shall never, ever shy away from helping thee, for thou art truly a fair and most courageous maiden. And so, 'tis with this in mind, milady, that I must sadly bid thee farewell.”

“Oh, my lord, 'tis not farewell, like it were forever. Oh no, my gallant and trustworthy knight, 'tis only a momentary, yes, a fleeting goodbye, though perchance, I pray, it will not be too long till we meet again on some distant shore, if not betwixt the shelves of the school's library for the most learned,” she replied as she struggled to remain standing due to a serious fit of the giggles that had her wanting to collapse onto the ground and then perhaps roll around with uncontrollable laughter.

Will watched on with avid interest. Polly, for the first time, didn't shrink under his gaze. The joy within her in that moment gave her a new and unshakeable confidence, however fleeting.

“Well done, Polly. I can see you'll be loving every line of Shakespeare before too long,” he warmly stated as he then looked down at his watch.

“Oh my goodness. I'm late! If I don't get home soon, I'll probably be burnt at the stake,” he cried, a serious look appearing across his face as it dawned on him that he must hurry home immediately, for he had a pie that needed to be baked yesterday if he was to be spared the doghouse treatment.

“It only seems like five minutes has gone by since we left the school gates to go home. The trouble is, the days draw to a close so quickly in the winter months,” Polly sighed.

“Once again, milady, I do bid thee farewell and dost hope that tomorrow I might catch more than a glimpse of thy fair face at thy school for the most studious and learned,” he cried, making a lowly bow before turning on his heels to race back home.

Polly hugged herself tightly, her tender spirit continuing to soar, as for the first time ever outside of her experience in Piadora she felt valued for who she was. She also had to admit that her sides were aching terribly from all the laughter.

Alone, with only the evening stars for companionship, she shut her eyes tight and whispered into the darkness. “Dear God, please let Will be for real. Oh, and as a further afterthought, please allow me to slip back into the castle without any admonition. Thank You. Over and out, Polly Brown. ”