Joyous and Moonbeam by Richard Yaxley Page B

remember the family of ducks at the farm, sooner or later the little ones have to break free of their mother and make a life of their own, breathe in their own space. It’s the same with all living things, including people. This is what I want you to think about, My Special, because I want to see you free and with the happiness that this can bring. Mamma can’t get away now because The Weight holds me down like an anchor and there are also the Secrets, several of which I will tell later, but Joyous can, you can fly and you must for your sake and for mine too.
    With all my love, Mamma

JOYOUS
    Go back, you say, mister, go back. But Joyous never did like going back to school after warm and quiet holiday days because of all that shiny concrete that is hurting my eyes and the hard pieces like the cruel boys like Matthew Berrings so always try to be remembering my dadda’s advice and Mamma who did be saying the importance of a good education. And I do recall I was being on the bus and ignoring the throwing things and badness words but it was not the easiest of times so I did take pencils and pad and open to doodles on the bus. Which was being fine and dandiful until Troy Smee did lean down and be rippingmy pad and breaking my pencils, particularly my favoured burned-orange-sunset one and laugh at my doodles which were ducks and Sasha and Mamma and the farm. And one day they did take my pad and be hiding it and laughing fit to burst at the seams then the next day someone did pin my drawing of Mamma to the board cork on the canteen wall next to Daily Notices and write swearing about her beautiful hair and be drawing underneath a horrid shape of body which was hard to work around a little but I did be imagining in my head and then I did be telling Troy Smee that Mamma was a picture in a gallery and who can say better than that, eh? Who can say better than that?
    At school my bestest teacher ever for all time was Mrs Swain who was a lady. Joyous is saying lady instead of woman because even though Mrs Swain was both she was more of a lady who was never angered and always be saying, Good morning, Joyous, in the nice way, the Moonbeam way of white light bouncing off dark water. Mrs Swain did be showing Joyous his favoured subject which was maths and I was being good at, especially numbers tables and fractionals called arithmetic in my head without writing. After a short amount of time Mrs Swain became Joyous’s only teacher of all day which was the bestest time of all forever because she did be telling me I was being put into the special needs of categories. So Joyous could be with Mrs Swain in a special room with good colours and softmusic like lifts in the big shops and soft bags of beans all the time except for lunchtimes which was for Mrs Swain’s coffee and also when the cruel boys did be coming to find me in a big circle like lions and play tricks which was not dandiful. But always I was trying to be respecting of Mamma’s words and be feeling sorry for them which was not easy when Joyous was being tripped into the stinky ditch of mud and having burned cigarettes pushed into my arms and legs.
    So that was my day-to-day, mister, until the job with Mr and Mrs Ickiewicz. Joyous was going to school for good lessons with Mrs Swain then be coming home to watch TV and sometimes be helping Sammy-K with odd-jobs when he wanted me to help but not when he was resting with Mamma of a dark afternoon and the door closed and, Get going, Mong! So Joyous would be taking Sasha for walkies in the favoured park. Which was a goodness because Sasha is a most bounciful dog who likes to be sniffing the air and licking hands and always reminding me of my dream about the farm where Mamma used to live and her favoured church and Thomas Bowen, my namesake. And when Joyous was saddened and not able to work things around a little, like times when Sammy-K had been hitting after the angry and the drinking and saying, Shut up, Spazzo! Shut