A few days later, during sunnier weather, he tried his new song in the park. It did well enough to pay for his supper at least, and he enjoyed the smiles. The song made him think of the orphans…and Jack. There was something troubling about one so young causing so much mischief. Was he just a bad one? Bert had never really believed that any child could truly be bad through and through. But he'd yet to see or hear one good thing about Jack. In his deep secret thoughts, the one he was ashamed to admit to, he wondered if perhaps it would be best if he were sent away. He just didn't want to imagine him leading some good boy like Angus astray.
He couldn't say why he chose to return to the orphanage that day. Perhaps, in his heart of hearts, he wondered if Jack didn't just need a bit of guidance...and Bert wasn't his father and he wasn't the world's best role model in any case…but perhaps if he took the boy out for the afternoon, got him to try a bit of work he couldn't skive off from for a change, maybe had some words, man to man…well. He hadn't quite decided what he was going to say when he found Miss Minchin in her office, but whatever it was, he never got the chance.
"Oh, are you here for Freddie?" she asked. "The doctor says it's just sniffles, but we all know how he gets and the doctor insists he's to stay in bed, poor boy."
So instead of asking after Jack, Bert found himself going to the infirmary where little Freddie had his own little corner that Bert rather feared the child saw more of than his dormitory bed.
"Mr. Bert!" he said when Bert walked in, and his voice was a little bit raspy but otherwise he looked spirited and wide awake. "Did you come to visit?"
"Of course I did," he said. "I see you're getting on with your lessons." For the boy had several books and a slate strewn about the bed.
"Miss Minchin said it was the best," said Freddie, a bit glumly, but then he smiled and, with a secretive sort of air, he pulled back his covers to show a different book. "But I have this, too. It's all about Jack and the Beanstalk and he fights giants and there's a girl all covered in soot, like a sweep, and she marries a prince! Only…don't tell Miss Minchin. She wants me to read about imports and, and, poems." And the boy made a face.
"Oh, I wouldn't knock a good poem," said Bert. "Why, poems are sort of songs without the music." But he could see Freddie wasn't convinced, and anyway, he hadn't come here to play teacher. So he looked about for a better topic of conversation. He noticed, then, an odd bit of cloth on the bed, next to the secret book.
"And what is this?" said Bert, who recognized a cherished stuffed toy, even if this one was practically rags. "A new friend?"
"It's a penguin! Just like in your song."
"So it is," said Bert, and once the boy had said it, it did have a sort of penguin-like feel to it. At any rate it was the right colors, and it did have the two eyes.
"My friend gave him to me. He made him himself! Imagine that." And the boy looked down at his penguin with great awe, as though he'd been given the most life-like replica imaginable.
"That must be some friend, to make something like that for you," said Bert.
"Oh, yes," agreed Freddie. "Jack is my best friend in the whole world!" And then, when he saw Bert's shocked face, he kindly added, "After you, of course." And he looked a bit worried, in case he had hurt Bert's feelings. Bert quickly tried to force his face into something kinder, and it seemed he succeeded because Freddie smiled again and hugged his penguin.
"Freddie," said Bert, once he was sure he wasn't going to choke on his own words. "So, Jack is a good friend, then?"
"Oh, yes," said Freddie again. "He's always telling funny stories, like you do, and he can stand on his head and he snuck me my book and once he threw a loaf of bread all the way across the room right into Jamie's hands! Jamie was so surprised and it was so funny. Only we aren't supposed to throw food, of course, and Jack got in trouble."
"Well, Freddie, I should think that stealing bread is enough reason to be in trouble," Bert suggested, trying to keep his voice light and not show the anger and worry that troubled him. Jack was not at all the sort of boy he'd want Freddie to think highly of.
"I suppose it is," agreed Freddie. "That must be why Miss Minchin took Angus away too. And that wasn't really fair, because it was Billy who stole the bread, only he gave it to Angus. But Angus did laugh and he didn't give it back. So Miss Minchin took him away with Jack. And Jack wasn't allowed bread for a whole week!"
There was a long moment of shocked silence, during which Bert completely failed to speak.
"…Freddie," said Bert at last, slowly and carefully, as something unpleasant began to curl inside him, "Can you tell me exactly what happened that day, when the bread was stolen?"
"But don't you know the story?" Freddie asked, a little bit confused.
"Pretend I don't know anything," said Bert, and to himself he thought, because I'm beginning to think I don't.
"Miss Minchin had gone into the hall, and Cook had already left, and Billy came over to our table and said he and his mates were big boys so he needed more food than little babies do. And he grabbed Jamie's bread. Most of us know you have to eat fast, just in case, but Jamie is little and he was too slow. And Billy laughed and brought the bread back to Charlie and Angus and Rob. And they laughed too, and Billy gave the bread to Angus and said, 'Go on.' And do you know what?"
Here, the young storyteller leaned towards Bert a bit, as though to impart a secret.
"Jack says he didn't think Angus wanted to, only he said Angus wanted to be Billy's friend. But Angus did laugh, anyway. And then, why, Jack jumped up and he grabbed that bread and he sent it across the room all the way back into Jamie's lap. And Jamie was still crying, and laughing, and it was so funny! Only Miss Minchin had come in and she shouted, 'Jack!' and she dragged him away for throwing food, and then she called Angus to the hallway because she must have thought he stole the bread, and he came back with a whole new loaf and he gave it to Jamie too, so Jamie got two loaves. And…and I know I should have told her it was Billy only…only Angus laughed and he didn't give it back so he did steal it."
"…And Jack never said anything about it?"
"He said that she was angry about the bread, and…" and here, Freddie was whispering again, "And Jack isn't good at speaking. He says his voice gets all trapped, and if people are shouting then he forgets his words. He's always in trouble at school for it. And I asked if it was like my air gets trapped sometimes, and he said 'sort of' and it doesn't sound nice. And it's funny because he can speak to me just fine, but he says that's different. He says I don't laugh at his words sounding funny or get angry if he uses the wrong word."
"I see," said Bert, who was beginning to fear he saw things all too well, and that feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't going away.
"And it was alright," added Freddie, "Because we found out Angus is nice after all, and…and maybe he wasn't going to eat Jamie's bread, because you know what? He split his own loaf in half all that week and gave half to Jack whenever Miss Minchin wasn't looking!"
And of course Bert understood, probably much better than little Freddie did. No wonder Angus had acted so oddly that day he'd taken him out. If Bert had been able to hear his words, spoken into his coat, he'd probably have gotten a full confession. Because of course Angus wanted the older kids to like him; Angus was always getting into trouble trying to impress the wrong sort. And he was a good kid, at heart, and of course he felt guilty. And yes, he should have told Bert or Miss Minchin the truth, but Bert understood.
Angus was a child, and he made a mistake, and Bert understood, even if he was disappointed. Bert, however, was an adult, and he should have known to look deeper, no matter what things looked like on the surface. So squirming on the inside, Bert cast around for something to change the subject, not wanting his whole visit to turn gloomy, and his eyes alighted upon a feather sitting by Freddie's bed.
"You must be very fond of birds," said Bert. "A penguin and a bird's feather?"
"Oh, Jack gave that to me too!" said Freddie, smiling at his little feather. "And he told me the funniest story. He was in the park…" and her he paused, suddenly giving Bert a guilty sort of look. "I mean…"
And Bert knew that Jack wasn't supposed to be off in the park alone, and Freddie probably thought he'd gotten his friend in trouble, but that wasn't the reason for the funny look on Bert's face. Bert tried to look a bit less troubled and a bit more cheerful and said, "Go on. What's the funny thing that happened to Jack in the park?"
"He said it was the windiest day ever in all the history of the world, and the wind blew him all about." Here the storyteller waved about his arms gleefully, probably in imitation of when Jack told the story to him. "And suddenly he heard a cry for help! And he ran to help, and do you know what he found? Why, a little baby bird had been blown right out of its nest! And it was too little to fly, and its mama was dancing around and crying for help. So Jack picked up the baby and he looked up and he saw the nest, and do you know, it was the tallest tree he'd ever seen, and that nest was right up at the top! But the Mama was crying and the baby was crying, so he climbed and climbed, and he almost fell, and the wind pushed at him the whole time, and he crawled out on the branch, and now the wind wanted to push him off. But he held on tight. And he put the baby in its home! And the mama bird was so, so grateful that she gave him a feather for his very own, and he gave it to me!"
And Freddie reached over and stroked his little feather with great awe.
"And…and did Jack get down safe from the tree?"
"Oh, that's the funny part!" said Freddie. "Why, he was about to climb back down when the funny park man shouted at him! And he was so surprised that the wind finally swept him right off the branch, and he says he flew down to the ground just like the baby bird, and right into the funny man's arms! And the whole world turned upside down, he says, and the tree was hanging from the ground and he could see the clouds far below his feet and it was the funniest thing! And the man shouted at him, and I said he sounded scary…but Jack said he was trying to protect the baby birds and he saved him from the naughty wind, and, oh, he had another funny story about the man!"
"Did he?" said Bert, and this time Freddie didn't seem to notice that Bert's face had gone all strange.
"It was when I got so, so sick, after the mean man wanted me to go up the chimney," said Freddie cheerfully, and Bert had to say, "Wait, hold up…what mean man wanted you to go up the chimney?"
"On the day Miss Minchin let me be apprenticed out for the day, of course," said Freddie, confused in the way all small children were when they knew a thing and someone else didn't. "She wanted me out with the window cleaner only…only I swapped so I could go with Jack and we went with Mr. Johnny the chimney sweep. And he said I was only to watch, and that wasn't really fair because Jack got to go up into the chimney and he said it was the most marvelous funny place he'd ever been to, and he got right up to the roof and he could see all of London! And he looked black all over, and I thought Miss Minchin would be angry, but then I remembered she couldn't be because she sent him out to be a sweep herself!
"Well, we went into a big grand house, and Mr. Johnny went to talk silly with the cook and Jack was all up and down the chimney, only one room had this tiny little chimney and Jack said it was too small even for him…and he's not really all that big so it was very small. And Jack coughed and said it was no good, and that mean man, he came and said I was to go up, because I was the perfect size! And I said Mr. Johnny told me I was only to watch, and he said I was a lazy good for nothing and if I didn't go up he'd whip me! And do you know, Jack took his bucket of soot and dumped the whole thing right over his head! And the whole room was full of dust!
"That mean man turned all red, and I think he wanted to whip Jack, but Jack ran away. And Mr. Johnny came back and said, "Oh no", and I started coughing and he took me back to Miss Minchin and I was sick all week. And Jack came to visit me and he said the mean man never caught him. And he said he ran through the park, and do you know what he saw?"
"What?" asked Bert, who rather had an inkling, but at the same time rather thought he didn't.
"He almost ran into that funny park man and a little boy, and do you know what he saw? On the ground in front of him was the most beautiful paintings. There was a clown, and there was a forest, and there was a green man wearing a yellow hat! And he said he'd come out of the dark chimneys and run forever, barefoot too, because shoes were hard in the chimney, and that was waiting out in the park the whole time, like magic! He says there are beautiful things everywhere, if you keep your eyes open, even when bad things are happening."
"Jack sounds like a smart boy," said Bert. In his head, he was thinking, Jack looked ahead at the art. He didn't look back, at the part he'd destroyed. He looked ahead. How had Bert not noticed that before? How had he not noticed anything before?
"So just think, the same funny park man drew paintings and then saved him from the wind when it blew him from the tree! And he knew his name! And he's not only at the park, because he stopped Billy and his friends when they wanted to hurt him. And he let him out of the closet when mean old Billy stopped the door! So he says the funny man must be a sort of good fairy."
It was safe to say that Bert had never felt less 'good' in the entirety of his life.
"And do you know what?" Freddie said, as though only just remembering a happy fact. "Jack is going to bring me a kangaroo!"
Bert must be admitted to have stared blankly at that. "A kangaroo?"
"Yes, see, he heard Miss Minchin say she was sending him to Australia, and he said when he came back he'd bring me a kangaroo. They live in Australia, I think. And he said he thought it was quite far away to go, and it might take him days to come back, but he'd bring the kangaroo with him."
"…Excuse me, Freddie. I think I need to go…somewhere."
"To Australia?" Freddie asked with a bit of a laugh. And to the small boy's surprise, Bert answered, "If need be." And he ran out the door.