19Years later, Jack would tell three curious children that he first met Mary Poppins while being apprenticed to a sweep. Years later, he would tell a curious Jane that he first met Mary Poppins after writing a letter to the mayor while living in the Cottage. Both statements are absolutely true. For a certain degree of truth.
"What queen?" Trudy asked the woman. "Are you the Queen?"
"Certainly not," answered the woman, clearly offended, as if being mistaken for a queen was a dire insult. She did not offer her name.
"My dear doe," said the rat, and he stood up on his hind paws to bow. It was a wonderful bow, but somewhat ruined by his unstable environs and nearly had both him and Trudy in the lake. Roger laughed. The woman did not. She looked pleased by the bow, and kindly did not mention the near fall.
"Mr. Ree," the woman said to the rat, with a bit of a curtsy. She looked much nicer and much less intimidating when she smiled.
"Perhaps a bit of help to shore?" asked the rat, or Mr. Ree as his name appeared to be. "I believe I could manage it, but these kittens might need help."
"Why do you keep calling us all 'kittens'?" Trudy demanded, though she had yet to let go of the rat's tail so perhaps she was not as cross with him as she sounded.
"A kitten is the proper word for an infant rat, of course," said the woman from the shore. "What else is he meant to call you?"
Trudy was so surprised by this information that she did not even get indignant over finding the rat was, essentially, calling them all infants.
"This is a very real dream," said Jimmy, splashing his hand experimentally in the water.
"Is it a dream?" Jack asked, feeling very disappointed. That did seem more likely than him really following Trudy down a slide into the outside where his best friends joined him and rats could talk.
"It doesn't feel like a dream," said Octavius.
"Don't be stupid," said Trudy. "It's all too silly to be a dream. My dreams are more sensible. Well, let's show that rat we are no helpless kittens and we can get to shore." And she tucked her candle into the pocket of her new dress and started an awkward, wobbling few steps towards the edge of the lily pad where a second pad rested almost directly at its side.
"My dreams are usually more sensible too," said Jimmy. "Only this cannot be real."
"Does it matter if it is real or not?" asked Jack, who rather hoped it was. This was real magic, not the wicked witch kind but the fun adventure kind, and he hoped to make the most of it.
"See," said Trudy, who had hopped to the next pad. It did not really show what she had hoped, however, as Mr. Ree had to push her from behind before the lip of the lily pad she had stepped onto could dip her down into the water. "What did you do that for?!" cried Trudy as she pulled herself back to her feet in the middle of the pad, never having realized her perilous position.
"Here, I will hold it steady for you," said the rat, ignoring Trudy but speaking to the boys, and he grasped the edge of the second pad between his paws. "Now you can all cross."
"Thank you," said Jack, and he followed. Octavius, Roger and Jimmy came more slowly, Roger with reckless bounds that almost had all of them falling when he rippled the pads, Octavius with a more cautious crawl and Jimmy sensibly shuffling on his knees. The woman at the shore silently watched their progress. Whatever Mr. Ree had asked of her, she did not offer any help that Jack could see. Then again, she did not seem to need to. It had looked a difficult swim across the large lake when they had first looked, but somehow there was always a new lily pad, or in one instance, a lily, just where they needed it.
The final lily pad, which had been several feet off the shore when they first climbed over to it, slid across the water as Mr. Ree scrambled across, seemingly in response to the movement, and happened to take them exactly all the way to the shore. They all managed to scramble over without getting a single foot or paw wet, let alone falling in.
Once upon the shore they all stood in a row before the woman, who was now looking them over like an army captain surveying her troops. She did not appear satisfied with what she found.
"Not as put together as one would hope for, but I suppose it can't be helped. Off we go."
And she was so authoritative on the matter that none of them questioned why they had to follow her, though Jimmy did say, "Excuse me, ma'am, but where are we going."
The woman did not answer. Mr. Ree did for her. "Didn't you hear her, young kitten? We are off to pay our respects to the Queen."
"What queen?" demanded Trudy. "Surely not the queen of England?"
"The Rose Queen, of course." This time it was the woman who answered. "This is her garden, after all."
They were walking through a garden, but a very strange one, Jack noted. At first, it had seemed they were walking through a wood, only for him to look up and gasp. It was not trees they passed at all, but enormously tall stalks ending in brilliantly colored petals. They weren't roses, though. Jack did not know much about flowers, but he knew that much.
"If this is a rose garden, where are the roses?" he asked.
"Step lively, please," the woman answered in a brisk manner. "Best foot forward."
And she walked so quickly that they had to half jog to catch up and there was no chance for more questions, though she slowed a little after a few minutes, enough that they could talk to each other.
"Perhaps we have all shrunk," Roger suggested, staring up thoughtfully at the orange and yellow blossoms above their heads. "The witch has caught us after all and turned us all into bugs."
"You may be a bug, but I am not," Trudy answered. The woman said nothing, not seeming to notice their conversation.
"It's a dream," Jimmy insisted. "You get oddities in dreams. Like giant flowers. And talking rats in top hats."
"Thank you for noticing," Mr. Ree said to Jimmy, tipping his hat. Jimmy did not look at him and walked a little faster.
"Were you the rat I sang to in the basement?" Jack asked, trying to turn his head everywhere in wonder at the situation. He wanted to see the wonderful flowers over their heads, and the bright full moon that filled the sky, and Mr. Ree who was a wonder all by himself, and the mysterious woman who had become their leader in this strange land. He was excited to know what would happen next. And he liked making new friends.
"I do not know about 'basement'," said Mr. Ree, "But we first met when you were left in the Kingdom of Kreree by the horrible witch who dwells in the Above. I can only assume you were left as sacrifice. I could not in good conscious leave a kitten alone, unguarded. There are others…" here, Mr. Ree seemed almost embarrassed, "a low kind of rat without any breeding mind, who would be so unscrupulous as to do harm to an unguarded kitten, whatever the species."
"You…you were guarding me?" Jack asked, not knowing how he felt about that. It had been nice having a friend in the dark, but terrifying. He did not know if it made it better or worse to learn the rat really was friendly…and that there were unfriendly rats about.
"I guard all the kittens left in tribute. Usually they are retrieved at dawn. Most of them scream and cry and talk nonsense. They do not sing. You…you are a remarkable little kitten."
"Jack always sings at the oddest times," Roger agreed, throwing an arm around him as though to claim him.
"You were trying to fight him over it this morning…or is it yesterday morning now?" Octavius said, clearly disgruntled by Roger's show of friendship towards his friend.
"He didn't like sharing Trudy," said Jimmy solemnly, not seeming to mind particularly, just stating a fact. Roger went bright red and glared at Jimmy.
"Didn't he?" asked Trudy, sounding delighted.
They came to a new part of the garden then, and it was so interesting that everyone forgot about each other and their quarrels or intrigues to stare about at it.
Stems twisted about over their heads, covered in thorns like swords. It should have been dark and terrifying, but it did not feel that way. It felt safe, and solemn and important.
"It's creepy," said Trudy. Jack was shocked by that. That was not what he felt at all.
"It's like a cathedral," he said, staring and staring. That earned a smile from the woman who led them, though Jack didn't notice, as his eyes were still on the briar cathedral before them.
"Where are the roses?" asked Jimmy. "This is where the roses should be, isn't it?"
And then there was a sort of cough, and they stopped looking up and looked straight ahead. And there was a rose. It was also a man. Or perhaps it was both. Or neither. At any rate, there was a person, dressed in a fine green suit, with a head like a rose, the part that should have been hair being the whirls of petals and the underside, where the petals met, forming a face. The face was not a pleasant one. It also looked somewhat familiar, though Jack couldn't say why. He didn't know any roses.
"This does not make any sense," said Jimmy. He sounded almost scared. Jack reached over and took his hand.
"Good evening," said the woman leading them along. "We are here to pay our respects to the Queen."
"Right this way," said the rose man, and he led them beneath the briars. Now that they were looking, they saw roses everywhere, in all sizes. There were young pink blossoms, their 'hair' loosely bunched, giggling behind leafy fans. There were old, withered red roses, dignified and somewhat graying, their petals hanging flatly down their backs. There were even little buds, tiny ones who giggled and ran about, in pink and red and yellow and white and every color a rose can be, and a few roses generally are not, their tiny faces peeping underneath tiny, unopened petals pointing out the backs of their heads.
Jack would have liked to meet with some of them, especially the children, but they were led swiftly onwards and he never had the chance. They were taken to a place where long, leafy, flowered strands hung down from the briars in a curtain, making a sort of space apart from the rest. Here the flower man paused.
"It is the custom," he said, in a stiff sort of voice, "to offer a gift before entering the presence of the Queen."
"A gift?" asked the woman, sounding almost offended.
"A song is the usual gift," the rose intoned solemnly.
"Very well," said the woman, sounding at once reluctant, like a person performing a necessary but unpleasant chore, and yet, at the same time, also sounding pleased. "If it is the custom."
The sudden strumming of a chord startled most of them. While they were looking forward towards the hidden bower, an audience had drawn around them, complete with an orchestra. Jack never completely understood how it came about, but in a moment the woman was singing. It was impossible to say whether it was rehearsed or if it was like Jack's singing game, all made up on the spot, but either way it was magical to behold.
What is real is not real unless you make it so
Whosoever you name friend cannot be a foe
The most villainous thief in all the land cannot steal what you know
But you cannot know what you could have known if you refuse to grow
So take a chance and make a friend and learn where you may go
The music was catchy, the kind that caught at your toes and pulled, even if the words did sound a bit like nonsense. At any rate, Jack did not understand what the song was meant to be about, except that it urged at them to do something. It reminded him of some of his own silly songs he made in his games, where the words came out to rhyme without reason.
He felt drawn into the woman's dance without quite meaning to, singing the chorus with her as it came around again. He was not alone there; Mr. Ree had joined in with him. Roger and Octavius did not go as far as joining in, but they smiled and clapped their hands and tapped their feet. Trudy half danced, refusing to smile or sing or admit it was fun.
Jimmy likely would have stayed back and solemnly watched and waited to wake up. Only, all this time, Jack had been holding his hand. And Jack danced, but he wasn't one to abandon a friend, so when he danced he did not let go, he pulled, inviting Jimmy to join them with a laugh. And Jimmy mostly intended to just stand still, did not mean to dance at all, because this was all nonsense and a bit scary and made no sense. Only Jack was smiling, and singing, and that was very like Jack and that was not nonsense or scary at all. And maybe the music pulled at something deep inside him, the beat getting into his feet, and maybe he listened to the words and understood them in ways Jack did not, or maybe it simply occurred to him that this was just a dream and nonsense so it did not matter what he did.
Jimmy danced. He did not sing along, and it was all still nonsense, but he danced. And maybe, like Jack, he felt the rush of air against his skin as he moved, felt deep inside him the swoop from spinning, felt the music thrum through his bones, and he smiled.
"Jimmy can dance?" Roger said, sounding incredulous.
"Anyone can dance, stupid" said Trudy, and she twirled about as though to prove it.
And then the song ended; the woman and Mr. Ree and Jack all sang the chorus one last time and then bowed to the hush-hush applause of leafy hands clapping together. The stately rose pulled the curtain aside and gestured, and the woman went through, followed by the rat. Jack and his friends started to follow, only the the rose man guarding the entrance to the queen looked pointedly towards the other children and said, "And where is your gift? Do you not sing?"
The path was still held open for Jack, but Jack paused. He did not want to go through without his friends. The rose man looked impatient now, though still utterly polite.
"Go on through, young bud," he told Jack. "Your gift has been accepted."
"Not without my friends," said Jack.
"As you wish," said the rose man, and he allowed the curtain to fall back into place. Then every rose and the entire orchestra stared pointedly at the remaining children.
"Oh," said Jimmy, a bit out of breath from dancing, "I can't."
"Anyone can sing," Trudy said, and then, as though to prove it, she sang 'Baa, baa, black sheep'. What she lacked in tune she made up for in volume. But when she got to the part where she was going to repeat it, the rose man quickly said, "That will do," and he held the curtain for her. She entered at once. The rose man turned to look at the boys.
"I don't know that song," Octavius whispered. "We never sing songs."
"I can't think," Roger said, "Not with everyone looking at us. This is worse than reciting from the Bible in front of the Witch."
Jack looked at his friends, then at the woman who had led them in singing, then at Mr. Ree. The woman and the rat looked encouraging but did not offer any songs for them to sing.
"Do the singing game," Jack said. "Make up anything to sing and then add a tune. You can…you can sing the last bible verse you learned. Anything can be a song."
"…I remember my Bible verse," said Roger, and he sang it, a bit wobbly at first and he almost forgot to make it music and not a recitation, but it came out stronger in the end. Octavius sang his verse next, with even more skill; he almost sounded like he enjoyed it. After, he whispered, "And I wish we could always sing them, on Sundays."
Everyone looked at Jimmy. Jimmy did not sing.
"Go on, Jimmy," said Jack, sounding encouraging.
"It's all nonsense," said Jimmy. "That isn't how the Bible verse is said. It isn't."
"Just do it," said Roger, sounding impatient and not at all kind. "I want to finally meet this queen." At least he was kind enough about it to not leave Jimmy behind.
Jack wondered if Jimmy was feeling the same feeling Jack felt when his words would not come. It could easily have been Jack who could not sing, except he had already sung, swept up in the woman's music. He knew that Trudy was not helping; it never helped Jack when people told him, 'just talk'. He tried to think of what did help.
He knew what did not help. Silence. Staring. Everything that was happening right then for Jimmy.
"We need music," Jack said. "You can dance, and just say the words while the music plays."
And he went to the orchestra and waved at them, trying to tell them to play something, anything, something with a beat. He was rather surprised when they actually did.
For a moment, it looked like it wasn't going to work; Jimmy just stood there. Octavius and Roger jumped up and down in time to the music, but Jimmy did not move and he did not utter a sound.
"Dance, Jimmy," Jack said, and he grabbed his hand and he pulled. Jimmy followed, his feet catching the beat.
"Now say your words," said Jack, "And they will be a song."
"This is not real," said Jimmy, and it did not sound exactly like music, but it did not sound exactly not like music either; the beat had gotten into Jimmy's voice. And just like it happened to Jack, it seemed all Jimmy needed was to start, because he half chanted a sort of song to the tune of the drums in the orchestra. It wasn't how Jack would have done it; nothing rhymed for one, but it was a song.
"This is not real, it's nonsense, all, roses are flowers, people are people, I like to draw, I draw what I see, maybe…maybe I will draw rose people from out of this dream because it is not real but my friends are real and…that is the truth I know."
"What was that?" Roger asked scornfully, but whispering to Octavius. And the orchestra finished and the flower people clapped for Jimmy just as they had after the first song. Jimmy did not look like he knew whether he should smile or cry or bow, so Jack smiled and bowed for him.
And the curtain was held aside for them and they went through together to meet the queen.
