that wil be for the best.
Then she gose. And I get my stuff owt from under the bed agen & I open the wound agen cos its heeld & the blud flos & I mix it with the ink & I get on with my ritin agen & becos of the dreme I no now how to shayp the words Billy & Dean & Mam & Dad & words like lad & mad & bad & nib & dam & dead but not the words that mite go in between them to give them proper sense.
I rote on the skin in the end of corse. After days of practising I lade the first skin on the table. I dippd the poynt of the fether in the ink & blud. I rote lyns of tiny meaningless byutiful shayps mixd in with the handful of the words I new. The shayps in my mynd told the story of Billy Dean who grew in secret at the hart of things.
I drew pitchers of the boy that the story was abowt. I drew pitchers of the boy that rote the tayl. I drew him in a sqare room with a fether in his hand & a halo rownd his hed & with burds flyin rownd the halo rownd his hed.
In this way I mayd my masterpees. I rote 9 pajes of words & pitchers. I cut a hole in eech corner with the point of the sissors & joined the payjes together with string.
I rote it with the fether of a bird on the skin of a beest just lyk in aynshent tyms & it wos very byutiful.
Mebbe maykin the masterpees sumhow got me redy for the end for all the chaynjes that wer abowt to cum so qwik.
I rememba the very last time Dad cum to us. It was in the daytime which was so unusual for him. I rememba how lovin he seemd at first how he felt the mussels in my arms and legs & telt me I was turning into a fyn strong lad.
Yor turnin into a man Billy Dean he said.
He held me up agenst him. I remember how I gaspd to sudenly no how much I had grown.
Look at you! he said. Youl soon be nerly as big as yor dad.
I laffd & jumpd up so my hed was nerly levil with his.
He laffd bak then turnd away. He stard up to the windo to the sky with his hands held behind his bak and he was silent for a long tym. Ther was a shaft of lite farlin on him ther was a million bits of dust dansin spinnin glitterin in that shaft of lite. He lit a blak sigaret & the smoak swirld rownd him with the dust. I cud fele the torment that was in him even befor he said to me in a tremblin voys.
Wil you forgiv me Billy?
I said I did not reely no wot forgivin was but if he wanted me to then yes I wud.
He laffd at that but it didnt seem much lyk a laff.
O Billy! he said.
He cum owt of the dust owt of the smoak owt of the lite.
Of cors you wont he said. Wy shud you do enythin but hate?
He siyed & kissd me on the cheke & huggd me. He started warkin to the dore but then turnd bak and cum so close to me.
Is ther a god Billy he said.
I didnt no what to say.
Is ther he said. Is ther a god is ther a devil is ther goodness is ther bad is ther Hevin is ther Hell? Is ther enythin but this just this.
I tryd to speke but had no words to anser with.
He put his hands round my hed & held it so my eyes wer on him just him.
Anser me he said.
I dont no Dad.
But I thort you wud. I thort in this littl plays in yor innosens & goodnes you wud cum to see things & no things that nobody els cud no.
His fingas wer getting tite gettin paynful.
Is that all you hav to say? he said.
I dont no Dad.
You dont no. You dont bluddy no?
No.
He drew me closer.
Tel me what you see he said.
You Dad I said. You.
You he said. Me. Whats bluddy me?
He yankd me even harder towards him. He bent down and pulld me up so I teeterd on my toes & my eyes were nerly rite befor his own. He pressd his nose down agenst my own. I saw the scar abuv his eye so cloas. I felt the fury seethin in him.
Look into my eyes boy. Look depe.
I stared.
Look depe I said, he said. Bluddy deeper bluddy Billy Dean. Whats in ther?
In wer?
In here in me in father Wilfred. Look and say what you see.
I stard into the blak pupil at the senter of his eyes.
I dont no Dad!
Stop sayin that!
But I dont no. How cud I no?
O bluddy jesus after all this is that arl ther is to say.
Then she gose. And I get my stuff owt from under the bed agen & I open the wound agen cos its heeld & the blud flos & I mix it with the ink & I get on with my ritin agen & becos of the dreme I no now how to shayp the words Billy & Dean & Mam & Dad & words like lad & mad & bad & nib & dam & dead but not the words that mite go in between them to give them proper sense.
I rote on the skin in the end of corse. After days of practising I lade the first skin on the table. I dippd the poynt of the fether in the ink & blud. I rote lyns of tiny meaningless byutiful shayps mixd in with the handful of the words I new. The shayps in my mynd told the story of Billy Dean who grew in secret at the hart of things.
I drew pitchers of the boy that the story was abowt. I drew pitchers of the boy that rote the tayl. I drew him in a sqare room with a fether in his hand & a halo rownd his hed & with burds flyin rownd the halo rownd his hed.
In this way I mayd my masterpees. I rote 9 pajes of words & pitchers. I cut a hole in eech corner with the point of the sissors & joined the payjes together with string.
I rote it with the fether of a bird on the skin of a beest just lyk in aynshent tyms & it wos very byutiful.
Mebbe maykin the masterpees sumhow got me redy for the end for all the chaynjes that wer abowt to cum so qwik.
I rememba the very last time Dad cum to us. It was in the daytime which was so unusual for him. I rememba how lovin he seemd at first how he felt the mussels in my arms and legs & telt me I was turning into a fyn strong lad.
Yor turnin into a man Billy Dean he said.
He held me up agenst him. I remember how I gaspd to sudenly no how much I had grown.
Look at you! he said. Youl soon be nerly as big as yor dad.
I laffd & jumpd up so my hed was nerly levil with his.
He laffd bak then turnd away. He stard up to the windo to the sky with his hands held behind his bak and he was silent for a long tym. Ther was a shaft of lite farlin on him ther was a million bits of dust dansin spinnin glitterin in that shaft of lite. He lit a blak sigaret & the smoak swirld rownd him with the dust. I cud fele the torment that was in him even befor he said to me in a tremblin voys.
Wil you forgiv me Billy?
I said I did not reely no wot forgivin was but if he wanted me to then yes I wud.
He laffd at that but it didnt seem much lyk a laff.
O Billy! he said.
He cum owt of the dust owt of the smoak owt of the lite.
Of cors you wont he said. Wy shud you do enythin but hate?
He siyed & kissd me on the cheke & huggd me. He started warkin to the dore but then turnd bak and cum so close to me.
Is ther a god Billy he said.
I didnt no what to say.
Is ther he said. Is ther a god is ther a devil is ther goodness is ther bad is ther Hevin is ther Hell? Is ther enythin but this just this.
I tryd to speke but had no words to anser with.
He put his hands round my hed & held it so my eyes wer on him just him.
Anser me he said.
I dont no Dad.
But I thort you wud. I thort in this littl plays in yor innosens & goodnes you wud cum to see things & no things that nobody els cud no.
His fingas wer getting tite gettin paynful.
Is that all you hav to say? he said.
I dont no Dad.
You dont no. You dont bluddy no?
No.
He drew me closer.
Tel me what you see he said.
You Dad I said. You.
You he said. Me. Whats bluddy me?
He yankd me even harder towards him. He bent down and pulld me up so I teeterd on my toes & my eyes were nerly rite befor his own. He pressd his nose down agenst my own. I saw the scar abuv his eye so cloas. I felt the fury seethin in him.
Look into my eyes boy. Look depe.
I stared.
Look depe I said, he said. Bluddy deeper bluddy Billy Dean. Whats in ther?
In wer?
In here in me in father Wilfred. Look and say what you see.
I stard into the blak pupil at the senter of his eyes.
I dont no Dad!
Stop sayin that!
But I dont no. How cud I no?
O bluddy jesus after all this is that arl ther is to say.
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