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From Mary to Bert
August 31, 1916
The Silver Bird Inn
Dear Bert,
Of course I am not married, you silly goose! Why do you ask? And no, I do not want you to call me "Miss Poppins". That sounds much too odd to my ears as well as it does to yours. I was merely wondering why you immediately chose not to call me that instead. And yes, but I would prefer you not call me an alien, it sounds too shocking. Besides, I would much rather be friends with the people of London, then be known by all of them by a slightly-rude title. Please keep my secret, keep all of them in fact, for I believe you will ask me more. Since you so willingly shared another secret, I shall do likewise. However, I must ask, what were you before you were a chimney sweep? Who were you? But, back to the topic at hand. I am from a planet which is just outside your galaxy, called Ondera. We know very much about your Earth, and our society is very similar to yours. We are very nearly the same as all of you, however we live much longer. Our planet was born thousands of years before Earth was.
Sincerely,
Mary Poppins
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From Mary to Emma
September 3, 1916
The Silver Bird Inn
Sweet Emma,
Bert visited me today. I know you get quite bored in Peter's Ridge, so I will tell you the story as if you were there by my side. I was writing in my journal when a waitress (from the breakfast room downstairs) knocked on my door and told me that there was someone waiting downstairs for me. I went down to the breakfast room, curious to find out who it was, but still a little wary. I'm still not used to being around humans, even after living among them for more than two weeks. After entering the breakfast room, I looked around for someone that I recognized, but no one stuck out. I sat at a small round table near the door I had just come from, and hoped that whoever was supposed to be waiting for me would simply come to me. I had been sitting long enough that I had started to wonder if I should go back to my room, when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around so fast that my hat nearly fell off (you know, the black one with flowers?).
"Bert! It's you," I said, and he bowed with all the pomp of aristocracy. He said nothing, merely smiled, his eyes twinkling handsomely. I almost had to shake myself out of my sudden stupor, so caught was I in his gaze. "Why have you come, Bert?" I asked, my throat suddenly thick.
"I ran out of writing paper," he shrugged, "and I dare not rip up one of my precious books, so I came here to answer your letter in person."
"Oh," I said " I didn't know you liked to read." He nodded
"Of course, I read all the time. I just haven't got as many books as I'd like to have."
"I've got plenty, why don't you borrow some of mine?"
"Alien books?" I shushed him.
"I do believe that we should take this conversation upstairs, or else all of London will know who and, more importantly, what I am." I said, and then I led him to my rooms. We sat down in chairs facing one another, near the fireplace (but there was no fire, because it was a hot day). I stood up and walked to my large bookcase.
"Here is my collection, you may browse if you'd like." Bert immediately stood up and quickly started rifling through the books. I sat back down in my chair, and watched him for a moment.
"Most of these are ones I'm familiar with. Did you get them when you came to London?" He asked.
"No, I brought them with me." I answered.
"How'd you get your hands on them, then?" Bert turned to me.
"That is a question which I believe should be answered after you have answered my letter. Did you bring it here?" Bert pulled the very letter out of his pocket.
"Of course I did." He sat down across from me and opened the letter, scanning it's contents. After a moment, he stopped and looked at me, then back to a section in the letter, and then back to me. He shook his head, and it seemed as if he was blushing.
"No, let's not answer that one quite yet." Bert muttered to himself. I gave him a questioning look, but he just blushed harder and went back to scanning the letter. I thought that was very strange, and I wish I had a copy of my letter so I could figure out which query he was avoiding.
"Ah, here's something." Bert finally said, and he looked back at me, his slight smile had returned to his lips. "What was I before I was a chimney sweep? I can't fully answer that one, but I can tell you that I am a very good painter, and that might've been part of the answer."
"You're not going to give me a straight answer?" I asked.
"Of course not." Bert chuckled. "Maybe one day I'll tell you all of it."
"Bert! I've already told you more about me than I was ever supposed to tell!"
" I know, Mary. Those secrets I promise to tell, but not now." Bert said. I folded my arms.
"Hmph! You'll have to tell me better secrets, then, if I'm going to give away more of my story." I said, slightly offended.
"Alright then. I still haven't found out how you made my bike move by itself, and I've gotta know."
"Paint me a picture, and I'll explain in detail."
"Deal." And we shook on it. Bert held my hand just a bit longer than necessary, and I felt heat rush to my cheeks. Bert gave me a small smile, then he tipped his hat to me and left. I sat in my chair and pondered why I had reacted to him so strangely. My face is still a little flushed. Now what do you think of that, dear Emma?
Love,
Mary
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From Emma to Mary
September 4, 1916
Peter's Ridge
Mary,
Oh this makes me so happy! You are fulfilling my wishes and filling my days with such excitement! I thank you for your entertaining stories, please keep sending them to me! But I fear you are giving away too much to Bert. Please stay safe, for you are my favorite (and only) sister! I was also thinking of visiting you on Earth when the war calms down enough, so you had better be there when I do! I would like to meet Bert, he sounds just wonderful, and very handsome. But, remember that Bert is human, and humans cannot be trusted! Please be very careful.
Love,
Emma
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From Mary to Emma
September 5, 1916
The Silver Bird Inn
Emma,
I know that Bert is human, but I believe that he can be trusted. He has shown that he cares very much for other people, he even once gave me strength. Bert is kind to his very soul, and I would trust him with my life. I think that all that we are taught about humans is wrong. There is bad in everyone, but there is also good in everyone. I think they are more similar to us than we think.
Love,
Mary
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From Emma to Mary
September 6, 1916
Peter's Ridge
Dear Mary,
I am glad you trust him that much, but I believe that there is another reason why you do, other than him being kind. I'll let you think about that.
Love,
Emma
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