The Trouble with Polly Brown (50 page)

The next day the test seemed to go on for hour after hour with the gentlemen endlessly asking the same questions over and over. They took a short break at lunchtime to take in some refreshments as well as a bit of exercise, and then in the early afternoon they met back in Boritz's private sitting room to once more resume this very important test. Finally they announced that all questioning was at an end, and Polly could now leave the room.

“Yes, Polly. Go and join all the other children. I believe they are all in the television lounge eagerly waiting the children's programs to start. Hurry up, or you'll miss them.”

“But Uncle, you know full well that I'm not allowed to watch television or do anything other than chores when I'm on ROPE,” Polly innocently but dutifully reminded him.

“Polly, don't be so silly. There you go again, child, speaking absolute mumbo jumbo and gobbledygook.”

“But Uncle—”

“As per usual, you are speaking pure gobbledygook, so I really have no idea as to what you're talking about. Now, be a good dear and do as I say. Go on. Chop chop,” he said with extreme jovialness. Then before she could mutter another word, he intentionally placed both hands on her young shoulders, bearing down hard as with the keenest sense of urgency he commandeered her toward the door of his private sitting room. As he closed the door on her, he felt the deepest sense of relief.

With Polly finally absent from the room, he was more than eager to hear the conclusions that the expert gentlemen had come to. So with hands in his trouser pockets, he shuffled back and forth behind both men as they eagerly poured over the graphs, attempting to decipher every little up and down movement that the highly sensitive needle had made on the graph paper. The moment Boritz had been waiting for finally arrived.

“Mr. Scumberry, we have been most tenacious in looking over all the graphs, and frightful as this may all seem, we can find no evidence that this pitifully sad young girl is lying. So where this all leaves us, we have absolutely no idea whatsoever!”

“What? You mean I've paid out all this money, and for nothing?” he cried.

“Well, sir, sadly this does seem to be the case, for when asked about the ring, she shows no signs at all of being deceitful. She truly believes this ring was given to her and that it acts like a key to a door that guarantees her safe passage into a land she has come to know as Piadora,” the smart gentleman stated as he tried to draw Boritz's attention toward the graph.

“Look, sir, see these lines? Now pay attention, for if she were lying we would expect this to be indicated by a sudden sharp spiral, but as you can see for yourself, no spiral takes place. It is all still on an even keel.”

“Hmm.”

“Also, her description of both Ralph and Hodgekiss never altered once, despite being asked repetitively to describe them in intimate detail. Personally, I would have expected her to significantly alter some of the finer details, but alas, she did not,” the tall gentleman in the smart suit continued to inform a now very disheartened Boritz.

“Really, how mighty peculiar!” was all an extremely disappointed Boritz could utter as it began to dawn on him that, sadly, all this time and expense had brought him nothing more than a much lighter bank account.

The tall, willowy man in the smart suit continued to sincerely share his thoughts and concerns with Boritz.

“Yes, to conclude, I think it's true to say that Polly did her absolute best to be as truthful as she could when recounting all her experiences. And when she finally related her harrowing climb up the mountain, well, I have to say that both my colleague as well as myself were truly moved to tears. This girl is extraordinarily tenacious and wholehearted in everything she says and does. It is therefore quite mystifying as to why she would even want to create an imaginary land such as Piadora.”

“Hmm. Mystifying for us all,” he lamented.

“So sadly, Mr. Scumberry, we have come to a sudden halt, and therefore we can go no further in our attempt to find out the origins of the ring. What is certain is that Polly did not steal the ring. It really was given to her as a present. Also, her friends, if imaginary, are as real to her as you and I. Therefore, she obviously needs the help that earlier on in the day you mentioned, yes, help from someone more suitably trained in the matters of the head and mind, experts such as your good friend and colleague Nick Ninkumpoop.”

With his subservient canine growling dutifully at his side, Boritz bid both gentlemen farewell and quickly closed the door behind him. He then headed back to his private room with the full intention of reexamining the graphs as well as reevaluating the conclusions that both American gentlemen had come to. If even this failed to produce anything that might well have been overlooked, then at least he could sit all alone and contemplate not only his navel but his seriously diminished bank account! For truth be known, he had completely run out of ideas in terms of what, if anything, he could do next.

Pitstop, his ever faithful companion, quietly patted alongside him, his long, pink tongue limply poised over his front fangs as he left his usual thick, slimy trail of drool all along the highly polished corridor.

Once again in his sitting room, a profoundly desperate Boritz sunk heavily into a comfortable chair while experiencing the deepest sense of utter dismay, for despite spending a king's ransom on the polygraph affair as well as traveling the length and breadth of England with his good wife, Mildred, he was still none the wiser. Oh, he had to admit the holiday had been both educational as well as a lot of fun. They had eaten at some of the finest gourmet restaurants that England had to offer, and they had trudged over hill and dale as they visited one enchanting castle after another in their desperation to find out the real identity of the ring. However, it had all been to no avail, and this is why he had rather mistakenly hoped and believed that with these professionals on board, all would finally be revealed. But he could not have gotten things more wrong. As he sat alone wallowing in the deepest self-pity, Boritz continued to muse about how else he could discover the source of this jolly old ring and its true value.

Chapter Twenty

GOOD-BYE, POLLY, GOOD-BYE

L
ATER THAT SAME
day Uncle Boritz invited Polly to join him in his comfortable and very plush sitting room, as he wished to have one final and very private audience with her.

“Well, Polly, how do you think you generally fared in terms of this unusual test?”

“I really have no idea,” Polly quietly but politely mumbled.

“Hmm. Well, it is my sad duty to inform you that you were by no means exonerated, for not only did you fail the polygraph, but you failed it dramatically. As a result, these gentlemen were left with no alternative other than to agree with me that, whatever the reason, you, my dear, really have gone barking mad. Yes, sadly, as I have never failed to remind you and the other children, a leopard never, ever changes its spots!”

On hearing this latest piece of terrible news, Polly began reeling backward and forward, feeling sickened to the very core of her being. She closed her eyes tightly and let out a small exasperated gasp.

“There is nothing further to say except that in the morning after breakfast, Miss Scrimp will be ordered to pack a suitcase with a few of your personal belongings. You will then be taken by Mildred and my good self to the hospital. From tomorrow onward you will no longer be my problem but theirs. Until then, kindly get back to your duties.”

Polly felt as though she had just been hit with a ten-ton hammer as she struggled to come to terms with failing the lie detector test when nothing she had relayed to the gentlemen had been as much as a small white lie—not that she believed in things such as white lies, as it was either the truth being told or it wasn't; at least, that's how she saw things.

Moments later, after being so brutally lied to and dismissed from her Uncle Boritz's presence, she sunk to her knees with a washcloth to clean the kitchen floor, and she felt paralyzed with a sadness so acute that it actually felt like the very life force had just been sucked out of her. In that lonely and very desperate moment in time, she felt she had no choice left other than to believe that she was, after all, in her uncle's own words, barking mad.

Had she really lost her marbles? Everyone else seemed to think so. She thought back to the boys at the train station, who had denied that they had ever known her. That little incident had left her feeling miserably confused. She then formally considered the sad and indisputable truth that Aazi had not even had the decency to reply to even one of her very friendly, chat-filled letters. This was yet more confirmation that she was, after all, in cuckoo land. Then surely the trump card was that she had failed the notoriously infallible lie detector test, and not just by a teeny bit but terribly.

No, enough was enough. She now had little choice but to face the harsh truth that all of this talk of Piadora had been little more than a figment of her wildly overactive imagination. Now she would have to face the terrible consequences of having been gullible enough to have fallen foul of such a ridiculous and unbelievable fantasy.

With Polly dismissed to go back to her punishment, Uncle Boritz then called all the other children to come to his private sitting room for a meeting. Once the children were comfortably seated, Boritz wasted no time at all at getting to the heart of the matter.

“Children, it probably comes as no surprise to any of you when I say that Polly has completely failed the polygraph.”

“Who cares?” Tommy Pulleyblank murmured, as he chose to speak up for all present.

“I realize that none of you care, and why should you? However, still I need you to hear me out. It is now a matter of record, as she abysmally failed the polygraph, proving once and for all that she is a compulsive liar, and with this in mind, she will be leaving our tightly knit family to attend a specialist hospital that deals with children who are suffering from such appallingly severe diseases of the mind. It would therefore be best if you all keep your distance and stay well clear of her at this most difficult time. Please understand me when I give this order, for it is not my choice but hers alone. After all, good-byes can be very harrowing, and she needs time to herself consider her ways, as well as to reflect on the severity of all that has taken place.”

Uncle Boritz inhaled deeply and, whilst doing so, took the time to observe how each child was digesting this latest piece of news. He still felt unsure as to whether a few might be inclined to want to say goodbye, if only because they genuinely felt sorry for her. He therefore decided he must try one more time to ensure that his express wishes were enforced.

“Children, let not any of your hearts be troubled or afraid, for this specific disease is not the least bit infectious or contagious; it therefore cannot be caught by simply standing next to her. However, I must reinforce that as she is struggling with such a debilitating mental deficiency I sadly have to forbid you all from striking up even the smallest of conversations with her. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Uncle,” they quietly and unanimously agreed.

“Tomorrow, as soon as breakfast is over, Mildred and my good self will be escorting her to the hospital to begin her specialist treatment that will hopefully one day find her reconnecting with real life. Enough said. You are all officially dismissed.”