The True Tale of the Monster Billy Dean: Telt by Himself Page 4

  Yool ruwin yor lovely room Billy she said.

  She put her hand acros her mowth & laffd. She shook her hed.

  What on erth am I on abowt? she said.

  She went closer & tryd to rede & red the things she cud.

  I poynted to sum of the pitchers.

  Look I said. Thats you with wings. Thats Dad with tusks. Thats me with 4 legs.

  She gaspd & laffd.

  I went on. As the days & weeks & months passd I filled the walls with marks.

  Wen Dad saw this for the first time he was very qwiet. He lit a blak sigaret & smoakd. I remember how scaird I was that hed be angry. But he turnd bak to me in the end & said it was fine. Wy not do this thing? Wy not fil the room with such decorayshon?

  So I kept on. I made the marks from the very foot of the walls to as hiy as I cud reech.

  As the paterns grew & grew Dad said that it was splendid. He said that the room was becuming a thing of byuty. He said that in yers to cum peepl mite cum to vyew thees walls just as they do in distant cuntrys such as Eejipt.

  Won nite he brout a byutiful book that he said was tayls of Jesus. It had words and pitchas put together on gorjus payjes. He said it was a masterpees. He telt me the writin was so aynshent & so straynj that even he cud not rede all the words on all the payjes. And he sertanly cudnt rite them.

  He grinnd.

  So even Dads cant read everything & cant rite evrythin he said.

  Reely Dad? I said.

  He smild & cuddld me.

  Yes reely he said.

  He telt me the book wos a copy of a book that had been made long long back on the iland whose pitcha wos hangin on my warl.

  The book was lovely. Ther wer birds flyin thru the lines of words. Ther wer pitchas of the riters of the book ritin in little sqar rooms. They had rings of lite rownd ther heds. Dad said that thees were halos to show the men were holy. Ther wer birds & animals flyin rownd the halos on ther heds.

  They rote their book way bak in time Dad said. They rote the book on skin.

  I tuchd his hand.

  Lyk this skin Dad? I sed.

  On the skins of beasts Billy. They had no paypa then.

  Lyk the skin of the beasts in the box Dad?

  Yes but not toy beasts. Real beasts. The beasts such as carvs that livd on the iland.

  O.

  And they rote ther words with fethers.

  With fethers Dad?

  Yes. They took the strongest fethers from the strongest birds & dipped them in ther ink & rote ther words.

  I dint say nothin.

  Swans wer the best of birds he said. Then gees.

  Whats swans Dad?

  Byutiful wite birds that swim on the waters arownd the iland. They have fethers as byutiful & wite as the fethers of angels.

  They sownd lovely Dad.

  O they ar. The riters sat for meny yers with the pen in ther hand & ther eyes on the payje & ther minds on hiyer things. They showd disiplin & payshens & wer not deflected from ther task. They wer doin Gods work Billy. Thats what ritin can be — the work of God.

  So even the beasts and the swans wer doin the work of God.

  Thats rite Billy. Even tho they wer dead they wer doin the work of God. As long as the book exists theyll be doin the work of God.

  Thats good, Dad.

  It is. And as long as the book exists its as if the beests hav got eternal life.

  Aye Dad?

  Aye.

  And the riters too I said.

  Yes the riters also have eternal life.

  I staird at the book. I ran my fingas ova the words and pitchas.

  Wot abowt the blud Dad? I said.

  Wot blud Billy?

  The blud on the skin of the beests.

  He laffd at that.

  They cleend it off of cors he said. They shavd the hare off & woshd it arl & stretchd it & dryd it & cut it into payjes.

  Thats good Dad.

  They sed that evry word they rote was a wound on Satins body.

  Did they, Dad?

  He smiled at me.

  Yes they did. Cos Satin must be defeated musnt he?

  I didnt no who Satin was of cors nor wy he must be defeeted nor how he must be defeeted but I nodded my hed as I lookd at the gorjus pajes & I murmerd Aye Dad. Aye he definitly must.

  He nodded & smyld at me & the smoak seethd owt throu his teeth.

  The thing Mam did abowt the mise was traps. She said it wos sad but it was for my own good & it wos the only way. She put the traps with a bit of chees on them nere the holes wer the mise cum owt.

  We lookd at them together and she put her arm rownd me.

  Daddy agrees it is the best thing we can do she said.

  Dos he Mam?

  Yes Billy.

  We wotchd agen. No mows appeard.

  Wil the mise not be scard of the traps? I said.

  Ther not cleva Billy. They dont no that the traps ar traps. They think of the smel of the chees & the tayst of the chees thats all.

  We wotchd agen.

  It wil be very qwik she said. They wil feel nothin. Do not be distressd.

  But no mise cum owt. Probly they wudnt cum owt wen we wer watchin. Mam shruggd. She had to go owt to do harestyls. She said if I herd a clik or a clak then that wos the trap and a mows was gon.

  Wil that be alrite Billy? she said.

  Yes Mam.

  If it happens just leev it wer it is and I wil deal with it. Dont look at it.

  She went throu the dor. I wayted. Nothin happened for a long long time. I told myself that nothing wud happen when I was watchin. A mows that was abowt to die must think that it was all alown. So I turnd away and lookd at a book abowt horses in the sky. The day darkend in the windo abov but I didnt turn the lite on. I closd the book. Evrything went very stil. I herd the clatterin of Blinkbonny far far away & the crackin & creakin that was always in the walls & I herd my own hart tappin tappin.

  Then I herd the clack.

  I didnt move. I didnt dare to move. The sky went very blak. I stayd so stil I thort I was aslepe. But I stud up at last & put the lite on & rubbd my eyes & warkd slowly towards the trap.

  Ther was the mows lyin so stil with its hed on the chees & the trap at its throte. Its mowth was open and ther was a trickl of blud comin from it. I nelt down. Its hare was soft and warm. Its body was qite soft and its wiskas very tenda. I cud feel its bones beneath the skin. Its feet wer tiny & its tiny claws wer sharp. The blud was alredy nerly dry.

  Poor mows I wisperd.

  I nelt on the flor lookin at it til Mam caym back threw the dore.

  We cort 1 I said.

  She came and looked.

  Poor mows she wisperd. Just lyk I did.

  She got sum toilet paypa. She lifted the trap from the mowses throat & lifted the mows up & rappd it in the paypa.

  You did nothing rong mows she said to the mows. You wer in the rong plays at the rong tym thats all.

  We said goodby to the mows & she took it away throu the dore.

  I kept lookin at the trap. Ther wos stil sum blud on it.

  Shud I clene it? I said wen Mam came bak.

  If you dont mynd.

  I cleend it with damp toylet paypa and flushd the paypa away.

  We shud get the trap redy agen I said.

  OK she said.

  Ther was still chees on the trap of cors. The poor mows hadnt even had a nibbl. I lifted the bar of the trap bak & tuckd it under the spring. The spring was very tite.

  We lookd together at the trap. It lookd so stil lyk it wud be stil for ever. But it was burstin to kil agen. I tryd to imajin bein a mows and the trap clackin qickly on my throte.

  Its a pity I said. But its the only way, Mam.

  Thats rite she said.

  Then she told me to wosh my hands to get the blud & the jerms off.

  I dint sleep that nite.

  I lay in bed waytin.

  It happend very soon.

  Clack!

  I got owt of bed put the lite on tiptoed
to the trap. Ther was a dead mows on the saym trap. The trap had got it on the throte just lyk with the first 1. Everythin was just the saym exept the blud was stil wet stil tricklin and the body was stil warm.

  Poor mows I wisperd.

  I went to the taybl draw & got a nife and fork. I got a playt. I got sum toylet payper. I lifted the mows owt of the trap. It felt very very lite like it was hardly ther at arl.

  I put the mows on the playt & carryd it to the taybl.

  I sat down befor it.

  I didnt reely no wer to start. I jently tuchd the mows & I wonderd.

  Im sory mows I said. But you felt nothing wen you dyed & you will fele nothing wen I do this to you now.

  I wos just abowt to start when ther was another clack.

  I shook my hed.

  You mise I said. Yor reely not very cleva are you?

  I carefully started to cut off the feet.

  Is ther enybody ther? Is enybody reedin this? Is enybody lissenin? Who am I to no? Mebbe this is yers in the future. Mebbe Billy Deans no mor. Mebbe the world & evrybody in it has been blasted to smithereens. The final destrucshon has at last occurd & the time of endless afterlife has cum.

  If that is so then so be it.

  Mebbe like Missus Malone wil say thats how things wer always intended to turn owt.

  Destrucshon wil overcum creayshon in the end.

  There wil at leest be a kind of peese upon the world.

  But still I sharpen the pensil with the nife. Still I rite the words. I also wisper them like I wisperd into the dead ear of the mows.

  Desifer the words. Leen close to my lips. Rede and lissen. This is what I did when I wos little in the middl of the nite. Yes it looks like monstrusnes but it mite be a kind of tendernes.

  A kind of love.

  The nife & fork wer useless. They cut off the feet OK and they cut off the tayl OK but wen I started on the other stuff they wer clumsy & blunt. So I opend the draw agen & took owt the sissors. Mam used them for cuttin my hare & she kept them sharp & brite.

  I inspected the mows. I still didnt no wer to reely start. I snippd off its wiskers and wunderd. Then I cut the hed off. I had to sqeeze hard but it came off pretty easy. Sum blud & guts oozd owt onto the playt. Then I stuk the point of the sissors under the skin wer the throte was. Then I started to cut the skin down towards the belly. Then I started to try to lift the skin away from the body lyk it was a jumper.

  Wons I got the nack it wosnt too hard tho it was pretty claggy and messy and ther was mor blud and guts comin owt onto the playt. I pulld the skin over the little legs wich was easy cos the fete wer gon. Then I kept on cutting the skin down towards the mowses bum & kept on tuggin till evencherlly I had the hole skin off. I scrapd the skin with the nife to get the worst of the blud off.

  I lade the skin upon the table.

  Befor I took the body away I cut into it som mor. The bones snappd open eesily. The insyd of that mows was such a delicit thing. I saw what must of bene lungs & stomac & things. I peeld bits away from other bits. Ther was a bit of a smel but not very much at all. I came to the brite red thing in the middl and lifted it owt and put it on my parm.

  This wos the hart of the mows.

  It wos very byutiful & very stil.

  I carefully cut into it.

  Wer is the goodness I wunderd.

  Of cors ther was nothing to be seen just more redness deep within. But I beleevd the goodness was ther like Dad said it must be. It was just I cudnt see it.

  Mows I said. You ar very byutiful even in death.

  I held the hart up to the windo to the sky to wer the stars & the moon & the endless yunivers was.

  This is the hart of a mows I said. Wons it was alyv & now it is dead. The mows did nothing rong. It wos in the rong plays at the rong tym thats all. It did not sufer. It will liv for ever.

  Then I took the mowses body away and flushd it down the toylet. I flushd the tayl away as well and the hed and 3 of the fete. I kept 1 of the fete as a memento in a peese of toilet paypa. Iv stil got that littl foot from arl them yers ago. Its 1 of my treshurs.

  I got the skin & scraypd some more dry blud off. I woshd it under the tap. I used hot warter & shampoo & rubbd it hard with my fingas and thums. Then I dryd it with a towl. I stretched it as far as I cud but it wudnt strech very much at all. I kept pressin it hard onto the tabel to make it flat. I lade a book on it to kepe it flat.

  Then I went to the other trap & the other mows.

  This tym it was easyer cos I was lernin how to go abowt it.

  So in a cuple of hours I had 2 good mows skins.

  I put them under my bed to dry with books on them to kepe them flat. I washd the nife & fork & sissors & playt. I cleend the tabel. I polishd the sissors with a blankit so they wer brite as ever. I put evrythin bak in its propa plays. Ther was no sine enywer of wot Id bene up to.

  I switchd the lite off & got into bed.

  I was very happy as I drifted off to slepe.

  I herd another clack but I dint go to it.

  Mam wud fynd the dead mows in the morning and wud get rid of it.

  In this way I collected several mows skins. I kept them under my bed. I cudnt shayv the hare off but that dint mater much. Even way bak then I new that nothing cud be perfect in this imperfect world.

  I didnt tel Mam abowt the skins of cors tho I did think therd come a tym to show her the wonders of them. And I didnt tayk all the mise just sum of those that came at nite wen the stars or moon wer shinin throu the windo to the sky.

  When I look bak that tym seems like it lasted a long tym like a munth or a yer or mor but mebbe it was just a handful of days or a week or two. I canot be sertan. All of tym is such a blur.

  However long it was the mise just kept on cumin. Mam said shurly they wud stop. Shurly we must hav them all. Yes they slowd. But they kept on cumin & they kept on dyin. She said they must be cumin from all the sellars & tunels of Blinkbonny.

  Why dont they lern? she said. Why dont they stop?

  Ther only mise I said. They dont no eny beter Mam.

  She cryd for them & for what she had dun.

  Its absoloot slorter Billy she said.

  You said it was for the best.

  I thort it was. But this is rong. Who ar we to do this to the poor mise?

  And so we put the traps away and let the mise have ther freedom & ther life. It ment ther was mor mess for mam to clear up but the slorter had ended & the mise wer happy & we were too.

  She notisd nothing exept the sissors. She wos cutting my hare & she started to tut & siy.

  Wot on erth is rong with these things? she said.

  I dont no Mam.

  Sissors these days! she said.

  The skins eech took a few days to dry.

  Wons they wer dry I got the sissors agen and cut eech skin into a sqare. Sum crumbld to fragments. Sum wer all curld up & wud not stay flat. But I kept on tryin & I had 10 good 1s in the end.

  10 skins all the saym siyz.

  10 dead mise all the saym siyz.

  10 dead mise that mite be made to do Gods work & liv forever.

  I made the first mark on the first skin with a bluw felt tip. It was just the usuwal scrawl but I told myself that I was riting proper words & that the words said

  This is wer it arl begins.

  But wot a mess. So horribl. The felt tip marks wer far too thik & far too ugly. I tryd to wosh the felt tip off but it wudnt wosh away. Alredy I had waysted a preshus skin.

  I apolojysd to the spirit of the mows.

  I didnt thro the skin away. Even tho the words on it wer such a mess the skin was far too preshus to be sent away down the toylet.

  It wos a lesson & a warnin.

  I kept it as a remembrans & another memento.

  I new I needed to rite with sumthin else.

  Felt tips pens & pensils wer not the things to use.

  I lade the untuchd skins within the pajes of a book & I put them bak under the bed.

  I told myself that I was hapy t
o wate.

  I told myself that the riters of the iland masterpees had taken meny yers. They kept ther mind on hiyer things. They showd disiplin & payshens & wer not deflected from ther task.

  I wayted.

  Days passd. Days of winter turnd to spring.

  I kept on waytin.

  Sumhow I new my bird would come.

  It was spring the sky was bluw the sun wos brite. It was a tym wen I was growin fast. In the aftanoon I hurd voyses in the warls. A voice that was not my dads voys carlin out my Mams naym Veronica! O my Veronica!

  All aftanoon burds kept comin to the windo lookin down then flyin off agen. They sang.

  Veronica! the depe voys carld. & then the voys rose hiyer & sweter & almost turnd into a song as lovely as the burds. O my byutiful Veronica!

  Then just silens in the warls & the only song was the song of the burds that sang so swete above.

  Soon mam caym in carryin a sandwich of meet & letus & buter & a glas of milk wich wos arl so delishus on my tung.

  I hurd a voys I said to her.

  She seemd so soft so stil so warm. She smyld.

  Yor always hearin voyses Billy Dean.

  She strokd my hare. She ran her fingers throu it.

  It was the voys of Mr McCaufrey the butcha she said. He came to visit me.

  She smyld agen & harf closd her eyes.

  He was singin to me Billy she murmurd.

  I tryd to think of Mr McCaufrey.

  Wil I see him 1 day Mam? I said.

  Aye Billy.

  She shiverd. She put her arms arownd herself and lookd up at the windo.

  Its so warm today she said. The spring is sprung. A day for lettin in the air I think.

  She got the windo pole & pulld the windo open & let it hang. The cool & sweetnes of the owtside air cum in. And the noyses of the air the drummins beatins dronins that was always ther. The clashin & the bangin & the stranj & distant voyses that was always ther.

  We lissend close together for a few long sylent moments. I chewd my sandwich sippd my milk & lickd my lips.

  Wot do you suppows it is? said Mam.

  Suppows wot is?

  Evrythin Billy. All that ther is.

  I remember lissenin to her words and wonderin. All ther is. What is all ther is?

  How can I no? I askd her.