"The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper."
― W.B. Yeats
The first time Mary Poppins met Bert, she thought he was a shadow.
She was making use of her Tuesday off to explore around her London home. After noting several parks and museums she could take the Liddell girls to, she suddenly realized that the sun was nearing the horizon. Looking around, she saw that the growing shadows had completely disguised the way back to her temporary place of residence. Mary paused. She wasn't lost, (heavens no, practically perfect people never get lost), but she was slightly uncertain of which road to take, which was a perfectly acceptable alternative.
" 'Scuse me, lady," a voice piped up from the alley behind her.
Despite all the years of practice of noticing everything around her, every eon or so, there would be an instance of someone catching her off guard. This instance made her jump in the air and pause just a moment too long before she came back down.
A piece of the shadow emerged into the light, transforming into a young boy who was covered in soot from head to toe. His white teeth gleamed in contrast as he grinned sheepishly at her.
"Sorry, lady. Didn't mean to scare ya." The boy apologized, his eyes bright with curiosity, destroying Mary's hope that he didn't notice her aerial maneuver.
"I wasn't frightened," She responded automatically, examining the boy. "I was simply… startled."
"Ya looked frightn'd enough, wot with you doin' magic and all."
Mary stared at him sharply. "Doing magic? I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
His grin simply grew in response. "Aw, 's alright, lady. I ain't never gonna tell no one."
"Not going to tell anyone." She corrected him absently.
" 'Zactly." The boy agreed, then smiled even wider in an effort to win her trust.
Tilting her head at him, Mary asked, "What's your name?"
"Bert, miss."
She waited for a moment, then realized that he wasn't going to elaborate.
"Your full name. Robert, or Bertram, perhaps?"
"Nah, just Bert's enough f'r me."
"Your family name, then."
"Don't got none."
"You don't have a last name?"
The sooty boy shook his head. "A family."
Her hearts were struck with a sudden ache.
"You're an orphan," she managed to say.
Seeing her pained expression, Bert reached out to pat her arm. "There, there, miss. I don't mind it none. I got a whole group o' sweeps to look after me, plus all the other kids at the orphanage. Don't you worry 'bout me."
Rallying herself, she asked, "Well, what on Earth are you doing out so late?"
"I's lookin' for you, miss."
Mary blinked. That was not the answer she expected.
"Me? Whatever for?"
"T' ask if you could do s'more magic!" Bert's dark eyes gleamed up at her with a profound hope.
"Now, Bert," she rebuked, "surely you know that even the thought of magic in this day and age is ridiculous."
"No 's not." The boy's brows furrowed together seriously. "Magic's in lots of places, if you know how to look."
She couldn't help a small smile. "Oh?"
" 'Ave you ever seen a sunset on the rooftops?"
Thinking back, she realized that she couldn't really remember seeing many sunsets at all. Always off doing other things. Very practical and important things, to be sure, but still…
"No, I don't believe I have."
"Well, c'mon then!" He shouted, then grabbed her hand (rather impudently, if she thought about it), and pulled her further down the alley.
Moving quickly through the maze of London alleys and terraces, Bert eventually led Mary up to one of the higher rooftops.
" 'Ere we are!" The boy announced, then bowed with a flourish as he motioned for Mary to sit.
Attempting to hide her grin at his chivalry, Mary gathered her skirt and sat gracefully as Bert plopped down beside her.
"There, ya see?" He pointed to the horizon, where the haze from the surrounding chimneys turned the sun a bright red, and the neighboring clouds reflected hues of orange and purple.
"Bee-yoo-tiful, innit?"
And while she took a breath to correct him, Mary paused. The colors were changing, blending in with each other so one could not tell where the pink ended and the red began.
"Yes." She replied instead, staring at the sun as it disappeared. She suddenly wondered how many sunsets (or suns-sets, or moonsets, depending on the planet) she had missed, and if they were all this beautiful.
A hacking cough suddenly came from her right, and she turned to see Bert try and stifle the sounds. Narrowing her eyes at him, she gently tapped his chest with her umbrella. The sonic detector hidden inside whirred quietly for a moment, then passed on their results to Parry (having a sapient device linked to a sonic sensor made things so much easier), who murmured so only Mary could hear.
"Inflammation of the lungs, and the beginnings of asthma as well. Carcinogen levels concerning for an Earth child his age."
"Hm." Mary said aloud, then reached in her pocket to pull out her bottle of Historic Cure-All (a gift from one of her former charges, who invented the cures of all diseases prior to 2,003,594,180 as her thesis project for the Sisters of Plentitude) and a spare spoon.
Bert suddenly regarded her as if she held a snake.
"Wot's that?" He inquired suspiciously.
"Medicine." She answered briefly as she made sure her sonic detector selected the appropriate remedies and adjusted the taste.
"I'm fine, miss, hones-" Another coughing fit interrupted him.
Mary simply raised her eyebrow and offered him the spoon. Making a face, he begrudgingly accepted, then took a tiny sip.
Eyes widening, he gulped down the entire spoonful, then licked it one more time for good measure.
"If that's wot medicine tastes like, I'll have some every day!" He beamed at her, then asked, "How'd you get it to taste like raspberry tarts? Magic?"
Mary put the bottle and spoon back, then crossed her arms. "Now, there'll be no more chimney sweeping for you – not until your body's done growing, anyway."
The boy pouted. "But wot'm I to do then? Lad's gotta earn a livin'."
"Well, what do you enjoy doing?"
"Sweepin'." He answered impudently, then after Mary gave him one of her looks, he thought a bit more. "I do like drawin'. And singin'."
"There you go. Screeving and busking are time-honored trades that favor the talented…" She looked at Bert's crooked grin and added, "and the charming. You'll do just fine."
Bert thought about that for a moment, then nodded to himself. Internal argument settled, he turned back to her with bright eyes. "Now that I've showed you my magic, can you do yours now?"
"Now Bert, I have no idea why on Earth you think I can do magic."
"I saw you!"
"No, you didn't. I simply jumped because you startled me – it's a perfectly normal-"
"Not that. I saw you flyin'!"
Mary paused. "What do you mean 'flying'?"
"Outta the sky! No one else saw you, mostly because people don't look up. I do though. The wind changed, and then I looked up and saw you floatin' out of the clouds, like an angel. Only angels have wings, and witches have brooms, but you've got an umbrella, so I figure you're magic." He ended with a definitive nod.
"Clever lad," Parry remarked quietly as Mary tried to find some way to get out of this.
"You're no help." She muttered to her painted parrot as Bert watched her with an expression of pure anticipation.
The bells rang out the time, and Bert started to swear, then quickly changed his mind as Mary shot him a withering stare.
"It's just that I'll be in a heap of trouble if I get caught sneakin' back into St. John's after hours. I've already got two strikes, and a third'll get me kicked out." He explained.
Mary sighed. Part of her already knew what she was going to do, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.
"Where is St. John's, precisely?" She asked as she stood, dusting off the soot from her coat.
"Over there." He pointed to a building that stood apart from the others, as if unwilling to associate with such dingy edifices.
She looked around until she spotted a likely candidate.
"Come along then."
Bert glanced around in confusion. "But that's the wrong way."
Mary continued walking at a purposeful pace towards the ledge of a nearby roof. "Gargoullis Petrificus." She remarked to herself as she drew closer. "Such a marvel to see one in its natural habitat. Well, I say natural, I should really classify it as its adopted habitat, though as a species they've adapted quite well."
Bert gazed at her curiously, trying to make sense of any part of that last paragraph.
"Excuse me," Mary politely tapped the stone decoration at the edge of the roof. "Might you be so kind as to give us some assistance?"
As only silence answered her question, she heard Bert mutter something very similar to "off 'er rocker". She tapped a little harder, and repeated her request.
Suddenly, one stone eye quickly darted to look at them, then resumed its former gaze, as if hoping no one would notice.
Bert openly gaped as the gargoyle blinked, then turned to face them, displaying a large mouth of sharp teeth and pointed ears. "Oh, it's you, Nanny!" It declared in a voice that was gravelly, yet delighted. "Sorry for ignoring you the first time, but you can't be too careful these days, what with society the way it is. I heard about some youths pushing off gargoyles for fun! In the daytime! You know, there was a time when we were respected, honored even. Ah, but back then, we all had the same values, see, and-"
"I do hate to interrupt, but we are on a schedule." Mary said in a sort of tone that indicated that the schedule must be kept.
"Oh, indeed. Very important, schedules. Help keep things timely. Well, hop aboard." The stone gargoyle stretched and offered its back.
"Thank you." Mary swung up, for all the world like she had ridden gargoyles all her life (in Bert's rapidly reeling mind, she certainly could have), and offered Bert her hand.
"Come on then. Spit-spot." She told him after he remained frozen in place. He tentatively took her hand, and once seated on the cold marble back, wrapped his arms around Mary Poppins like he would never let go.
"St. John's Home for Boys, if you please." She directed their host, and braced herself as the gargoyle launched into the air. Bert's arms tightened, then relaxed as he stared out across his beloved London from this new viewpoint.
"Blimey," he whispered reverently. Mary couldn't help a small grin. He seems to adapt quickly to whatever situation he found himself in, a trait she approved of.
You know, a part of her mind commented, given a few years, he would make an excellent-
Don't even think about it, she cut off the voice. You've seen what having companions does to him. It changes them, not always for the better, and it breaks your hearts when they leave. And they always leave.
Another part of her, the one that knew she was not as practically perfect as she pretended to be, added softly, It's hard enough leaving the children.
Just a thought, the first voice responded.
"Ah, you should have seen London in the old days," Came a narrating rumble from beneath, interrupting her internal debate. "The gleaming white marble, the shining pillars of society…"
All too soon, they reached the roof of the orphanage.
"Thank you very much, it was quite an enjoyable and educational ride." Mary smiled at the creature after they had dismounted. "Say hello to Griffin for me."
"Certainly will. No trouble at all, Nanny." With a polite bow, the gargoyle turned and flew back to its original roof.
"Why'd he call you Nanny?" Bert asked as when the living statue was out of sight.
"Because that's what I am." Mary said as she pulled out her mirror and checked her hair. Flight did tend to disarray her hair something awful.
"He said it more that that's 'oo you are." He persisted.
As Mary paused, her reflection turned to her and remarked "Perceptive lad, isn't he?"
Sending a glare toward her mirror, Mary employed one of her best tactics.
She changed the subject.
"It is very late, and boys your age should be in bed. Go on, spit-spot."
Suddenly exhausted, Bert turned and headed toward the door that would lead him back down to his ordinary bed, in his ordinary life. He looked back, and saw that she had opened her umbrella and was standing on the ledge.
"Mary Poppins!" He shouted, and waited until she had turned around. "You're the most wondrous person I've ever met!"
She smiled the smile of one who is used to such descriptions, then suddenly got a twinkle in her eye. "And you are certainly the most interesting person I've ever met." She replied, then stepped off the roof.
Bert ran to the edge and watched her float down. "Will I ever see you again?" He called after her, suddenly afraid he wouldn't.
The grin she shot back was infectious. "Only when you least expect it."