Polly continued her trips up the stairs and down the slide. On what was maybe her twelfth trip, a strange sound shot into the air. It was a very painful groan. "What's that?" she asked, jumping off the end of the slide.
"Oh, thank you!" came the answer over her shoulder.
"Who said that?" Polly asked again, looking round and round.
"I did."
Polly bent at the waist, jumped to one foot and spun around. She was staring right at the slide. Two very, very sad eyes stared back at her. "Thank you for getting off," said a giant mouth just below the teary eyes.
"My back aches really badly today."
Polly rubbed her eyes. Was this really happening? Could she believe her ears? Quickly, she looked over to where her mother sat with her friend. The two women were laughing and talking. Everything seemed okay. Polly looked back at the slide. "Excuse me", she said, "did you speak to me?"
"Why yes I did," answered the silver slide. "I'm sorry if I startled you, but I can't take it anymore. Each and every day children jump on me and race down my back. It was fine when I was young, but I've grown so old and weary. I'm not nearly as strong and in the great shape I used to be. I love the children, especially you Polly, but I shudder when they dig their feet into my back. What can I do? Can you help me, Polly?" With that, the poor old slide began to cry loudly. His steps shook with each large, wet tear. He pulled a large white handkerchief from his back step and blew his nose sadly. "If this keeps up, I will have to be turned into a pile of steel and thrown onto the junk heap. I know all I need is a little rest. In time I will be okay. The park is putting in a new slide soon. Guess until then, I will have to be brave."