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

by David Almond

I kept on shudderin & the fether was sharp & I pressd too hard & Dad winsd & a littl of his blud came owt & mingld with my own.

  Im sorry Dad I said.

  I wotchd him as he slowly rubbd the two bluds together with his fingertip until they dryd.

  I told him agen I was sorry I dint mene it but he said it was nothin nothin.

  I tuk a depe breth & dared myself.

  I mayd a thing for you I said.

  A thing?

  Yes a thing.

  I nelt down & reechd beneath the bed agen. Careflly lifted owt the book of skin. Shiverd shook & trembld as I held it owt to him.

  This thing I telt him.

  It lookd so tiny in his hands like a littl styupid bit of nothin. It showd how tiny the mise had bene. The letters showd how tiny the burd had bene. The meaninlessness showd how tiny Billy Deans brane had bene.

  He movd the book & turnd it so the shaft of dust & lite fel down upon its payjes so the letters & the pitchas wer iluminayted.

  Look I telt him. Thers our names rit down in ink & blud.

  He lookd at me as if I was sum grate mistry to him a mistry as big as the stars or the goodness at the hart of things.

  I wanted to mayk a masterpees I said. It has the beest & the burd & the human being in it & it has words & storys & as I rote it I showd payshens & dedicayshon & I had my mind on hiyer things.

  Its byutiful Billy.

  I made it for you Dad.

  O I cudnt take it from you Billy.

  You must. You must cary it with you.

  A grone lyk the grone of a thing in aginy caym owt from him & corsed the dust arownd his mowth to rush swirl storm & scatter lyk a millyon shootin stars a million littl frantic burds.

  I pressd the pajes onto his hands.

  Plees. I said. Plees tayk it Dad.

  He groned agen. He lookd at the sky at the room at my eyes at the book lyk he dint no wer he was dint no wat he was dint no nothin nothin at arl.

  Then he turnd his fays from me & clutchd the book.

  Forget me Billy he said.

  I reechd owt to him but cud not reech him.

  Murder me in yor hart he said.

  I held his blak jaket but he tuggd away.

  Goodby he wisperd.

  Then he went threw the dor I must never go threw. He left it wyd open. I seen the depe depe darknes that lay behynd. I turnd my eyes away as his last word eckoed depe inside me.

  Goodby. Goodby. Goodby.

  I stood in the shaft of dust & lite. I felt the scarf that hung loosely arownd my throte. I smelt the sents of him in it. Voyses started mutterin in the walls. I went to the warl & pressd so hard & tryd to lissen. Then sylens.

  Then much time.

  Then Mam caym in. She shut the dore & crossd the room & put her arm arownd me.

  Dads gon she said.

  Soon after that things started to stink. Mam was bringin in my brekfast 1 morning & she stoppd & sniffd the air.

  What on erths that smel? she said

  What smel I said tho I new what she was tarkin of.

  That funny smel. Its swete & yuk.

  She sniffd me & she sniffd the bed. She got down on her hands & nees & started crawlin sniffin rownd the room fays close to the carpet close to the flore.

  Mebbe its the mise agen she said.

  Mebbe it is.

  She lay down by the walls & sniffd in the mowsholes.

  No wors than normal she said.

  She kept on sniffin searchin findin nothin.

  Ill get some disinfectant & some scrubbin stuff she said.

  OK Mam. If I fynd enythin Ill let you no.

  Then she went to do harestyles & I got under the bed & lifted up the secret florebord.

  It was the spuggy that was making the stink of cors.

  Id got rid of all the bits of the dead mise exept the little foot of the first. But I just cudnt chuck the burd away. It was so preshus. But no mater how preshus it wos it stil had the ability to rot.

  I lifted it owt. Wot a bluddy pong. I workd fast. I wos hedin for the toilet but stil I cudnt do it. I got the sissors & cut the wings off. I hoyd the body into the toilet bowl & flushd it down. I had to flush agen to get all the little fethers gon. I spred the wings owt on the table and even tho the wings had bene pluckd so much and even tho the stink was porin owt of them they wer completly bluddy lovely.

  All I wanted I think wos 1 last good look. I spred the wings wyd & siyed at ther loveliness. I thankd the bird for comin to me from the sky.

  Then the imaj enterd my brane & I new what I must do.

  I fownd 1 of the old mows traps that Mam had left in a draw. I bated it by scatering crums from my brekfast acros it. I pulld bak the spring. I lade the trap before 1 of the holes in the wall. I stood up & steppd bak & wayted. The shaft of lite shone down & evrything was very stil & very sylent.

  It did not take long.

  A singl mows appeard slipping owt of the hole. It was a mows like eny uther mows with greyish fur & a skinny tale & tiny fete & delicat wiskers & poynty eres. It sniffd the air. It lookd this way that way & up towards the sky. It moovd towards the trap & sniffd agen. It pawsed for meny seconds as if it was in thort. Then steppd onto the trap & put its hed towards the crums & clack! The hole trap jumpd with the sudden violens of it & the mows jerkd & twitchd a final tym & then was still.

  I knelt down.

  I wisperd thanks to this mows for giving itself to me & to the burd.

  I releesd it carefly.

  I held it in my hand this dead & stil warm & tender lovely beest.

  I carryd it to the tabl & lade it on a plate.

  I think I sumhow new this was to be my finil proper act in ther.

  I got the sissors & I cut little holes in the sholders of the mows. I got the wings of the burd & stuck them into those holes. I mayd a thing lyk an aynjel lyk a hors with wings lyk an aynshent beest lyk a beest thatd never bene sene in this world at arl.

  It wos the second thing Id mayd with mows & burd and yes it wos floppy & stranj & it wud never never fly but I held it up & supported the wings with my thums & the blud of the mows trickld down my fingas & the stink of the wings mixd with my breth but I new I had mayd sumthin new & speshul & that lyk my masterpees wud never diy in my memry.

  Aye, I no. Lookin bak I no I was in a straynj straynj stayt. The yers of bein in the room the aloneness the loss of dad the mise the burd & arl the weardness of what Id bene up to in the nites. Mebbe I was more than a littl mad a littl crayzy. Of cors I wos. But mebbe the crayzines brout forth sum powa & corsd a miracl to occur that nite. Or mebbe not. Who nos? Mebbe it was all madness all an ilushon mebbe it wos sumthin to do with Mam & mebbe Ill find a way to get her to tel me 1 day.

  Enyway that nite I put that stinkin mowsburd on the table unda the windo to the sky. I telt it it cud resurrect itself & fly away into the stars & joyn the other beasts & gods & galixys up ther.

  And I saw it happen. I saw the mowsburdaynjel rise up from the taybl. I saw it rise throu the little room then throu the windo & keep on risin risin til it was owt of site far far off millyons & millyons of myls away & all that cud be sene of it throu the frame of the windo was a littl arraynjment of stars shinin in the lovely perfect shayp of it.

  Next thing I no is its morning & the mowsburds gon from the taybl just lyk I dremed it did. Mam cums in. She sits on the bed. Shes got a buckit of disinfectint & scrubbin brushes in her hands & rubba gluvs on.

  She sits on the bed.

  We carnt go on like this can we Billy she says.

  I dont no Mam.

  We cant. You must prepare yourself.

  For what Mam?

  For goin throu the dore son. Its time.

  I shudder & trembl & she raps me in her arms.

  Yor dad wont cum bak no mor Billy. I no it. We ar on our own now.

  Are we Mam?

  Aye. But well hav frends to help. Mr McCaufrey. Missus Malone. They are prepard. And dont wurry becos shes a good woman and hes a good man.

  She
grinnd & bit her lip.

  But Mr McCaufrey she said.

  Mr McCaufrey what?

  He dusnt beleev in you Billy.

  Dusnt beleev?

  No. No mater what Missus Malone & I tel him he dusnt beleev its possibl that thers a boy like you in a plase like this.

  I tryd to imajin what a Mr McCaufrey wud be like. No way of doin this of cors. Id only seen my dad my mam myself & birds & mise & the weard figurs that sumtyms wanderd throu the shados & throu my dreams.

  Hell hav to beleev when he sees me & tuches me Mam I said.

  Thats true.

  And when I see him & tuch him then Ill beleev in him.

  She laffd.

  Thats true as well she said.

  She held me tite.

  You must prepare yorself & you must be brave she wisperd. Therll be no comin bak. Wons you leev this room we will lok it up. A clene brake. No goin back. You understand Billy?

  I understood nothing. I did not no how to prepare myself nor how to be brave.

  I tryd. The mowsbird helpd me. I told myself that if a thing like that cud leev the room then a thing like Billy Dean surely cud as well.

  My mam stayd a cupl of hours. She scrubbd the walls & the bath & the toilet & she hooverd the flore. Soon the plays smelt of sope and disinfectint & I new the stink of rottd burd wud soon be gon. The only thing she fownd was a singl grey fether on the flore by the toylet. She lifted it up & lookd at it & lookd at me.

  How did this get here she said.

  Dont no Mam.

  She smyld.

  No. Of cors you dont.

  She held it up & blew it soft & up it went into the air.

  We wotched it flowtin. I rappd the scarf with the blak frinjes on it arownd me. I smelt the aynshent sents in it. She went away. I rote on the walls for a final time.

  I rote a word that ment goodby.

  Goodby.

  “Get him up & get the hood on him. Do it fast befor he starts to think.”

  Its a womans voys the first thing I hear that mornin as I wake. I kepe my eyes tite shut. I pul a blankit over me. Then the blankits yankd away & massiv hands ar on my sholders & hot breths in my fase & thers a smell of blud & the voys of a man is groanin in amayzment.

  “Its true. O my goodness Veronica its reely true.”

  Mams tender tuch on my cheek & then her kiss & then her wisper.

  “Yes its true. I told you of my lovely son & here he is. Wake up Billy. Its time to go.”

  “Sho a leg” says the man. He trys to lift me. I go rijid & stiff & he hesitayts.

  “Hells teeth” he says. “Hells bluddy teeth.”

  I open my eyes & hes rite abuv me. Massiv shiny fays and massiv shiny hed and big brown eyes. He blinks he steps bak from me he grimases he liks his lips with his brite red tung.

  “McCaufreys the name” he says.

  He reeches down & tuches me just wer my mam tuchd on the cheek.

  “Im the butcha” he wispers. “Im yor pal. Trust me.”

  I look past him and thers a littl blakhared witefaysd woman close behynd him. And thers my mam with her eys fixd on me and her hands spred across her fase. And I see that the dore I must never go throu stands wyd open.

  “No!” I gasp but Im off the bed & on my fete & the butcha has me warkin forward.

  “Now the hood!” says the woman. “Its nesessary. It wil stop him from bein overwelmd.”

  The butcha puts his arms rownd me & holds me tite. The woman cums to stand befor me. Her eyes ar cold her breth is cold. I look to Mam but she shuts her eyes.

  “Stand stil boy” says the woman. “Do as yor told. It is for the best.”

  She drops the hood across my eyes & all goes dark. Tiny poynts of lyt like stars shyn threw it.

  “My naym is Missus Malone” she says. “This is the second time Ive brout you owt into the world, William Dean. Now then, butcha.”

  I hear Mam weeping as Im warkd towards the dore. I grab the fraym to hold me bak but its Mam that pulls my hands away. The butcha shoves me & Im throu and the dore clicks shut behind my bak.

  Thers darknes no points of lyt then another click like another dore is opend & then the poynts of lyt agen.

  I abandon myself to my fayt. I let myself be moved further let myself be lowerd onto sumthing hard.

  I stare into the darknes and the points of lite.

  “Let him rest” says the butcha. “Let him take his tym now that its dun.”

  I feel his hand on my hed.

  “A childe” he wispers “growing in Blinkbonny all this tym.”

  “Tayk me bak” I wisper but my voys is tiny & muffld & no won replys.

  We wate. Wer all stil. Evrything turns straynjly peesful. Mam is at my syd with her arm arownd me. Shes sobbing softly. Birds are tweetin far away. Thers distant clankin & groanin. I widen my eyes & try to stare throu the hood but all owtsyd remanes a mistry.

  The butcha starts to wissl lyk a jaunty bird.

  Missus Malone tells him to shut up.

  “Shal I take the hood away?” wispers Mam.

  “No” I anser.

  “Be brayv” says the butcha.

  “Do it” says Missus Malone.

  I shut my eyes tite. Mam lifts the hood away & kisses me.

  “Open yor eyes” she says. “See how you hav cum to the plays wer you hav always been.”

  I open my eyes. Shes rite befor me & thers a brite lite shinin on us from abuv. Her fays is payl as payl and her eyes ar shinin & a tear like a preshus jewl is runnin sloly down her cheke.

  “This is a plays that was sayvd wen meny wer destroyd” she says. “And we wer sayvd wen meny wer killd. Wernt we lucky Billy?”

  I see a taybl befor me & walls & blue curtins hangin at the middl of the warl with a rectangle of payl lite shinin throu them. I see Mr McCaufrey with his hands on his hips in the middl of the room. He winks at me. I see Missus Malone in a corner leening on the wall. She has a stik in her hand. She poynts to the curtan with it.

  “Now” she says.

  “Tayk me bak” I wisper agen.

  Everythin swings & sways & roks & rores.

  Mam holds me. She tels me to stand up & she gides me to my fete. She holds my hand and takes me to the curtan.

  “Turn off the lite Mr McCaufrey” she says.

  He dos this & the room goes dark. She tugs the curtan & lite floods in.

  “Look son” she says.

  I dont no how to look. I blink & blink & suden tears flood my eyes. I get a glimps of sky with blueness & the clowds in it. I get a glimps of lumpy darka things belo. Everything is reeling. Im abowt to fall. Mam holds me tite.

  “That” she wispers “is Blinkbonny. Its wer youve always bene. Youve been hid away in secrit at the hart of it. And now at last yor owt.”

  I stagga. The curtan falls. I see the butcha at the dore that leeds bak to my littl room. Hes screwing a plank across it then another plank.

  “Welcom to the world yung Billy Dean” he says.

  He grins. He shakes his hed.

  “How abowt a sossij or 3” he says. “Thatll help I do beleev.”

  We sit at the taybl in the plays I wud come to no & to love so wel. The danglin lite shyns down on me. The butcha puts sum sossijes on a playt befor me. He puts a nife & a fork in my hand & sqeezes HP sors across the sossijes.

  “Eat up” he says.

  He crowches down at my side & gayzes at me & tuches me tenderly with the tips of his fingers.

  “Butcha” says Missus Malone. “Leave him for a wile.”

  But he stays by me & puts his fingers arownd my ankle then puts them rownd my rist. I see that tho I am big beside my father I am still small against this massiv man.

  “Skinny as a spuggy” he says. “We hav to get you bilt up for the big wyd world Billy boy.”

  I try to cut a sossij with a nife & fork but my hands ar wobbling with nervusness too much.

  He laffs.

  “See?” he says. “Cannot even cut a littl sossij!”

&n
bsp; He takes the nife from my hand & cuts the sossij for me. He dips a bit in the sors then tels me to put my tung owt & I do that & he puts a bit of sossij ther.

  “Eat this” he says.

  I chew & eat.

  “Its good?” he asks.

  “D-delishus” I say.

  “Exelent. Get stuk in. Get sum mor of that HP on. These ar my very best sossijes from the very best pigs alyv today. Or the best that wer alyv til now.”

  He holds a glass of oranj juis in front of me.

  “Drink this” he says.

  He tips the glass towards me & I drink.

  “Good lad” he says.

  He kisses me. I catch agen the smel of meat & blud on him. He strokes my hed with his jentl hands.

  “To think that all those times I was in here you wer just in ther. Whod hav blinkin thort it. Do you recognyz my voys Billy?”

  I do. I remember his voys in the warls. I remember him callin owt my mothers name. I remember how his voice rose from a grone into a song. The voys I thort wos sumthin from a dreme or sumthin in the warls themselvs or sumthin deep within myself or som weard ecko of my dads voys. And even when Mam told me whose voys it was I had no way of understanding until now. And now here he is befor me. This real man living in this real world. This Mr McCaufrey this tender smiling butcha.

  I fynd that I can smyl at him. I wisper that yes I no his voys. I continu to eat & drink.

  “And me” says Missus Malone.

  I turn my hed. She stil leans on the wall in the shadowy corner. She poynts to her fase with her stik.

  “This” she says. “Do you recogniyz this, William Dean?”

  She steps closer.

  “Iyv sene you wen you sleep William. Ive cum in with yor mam in the ded of nite & lookd down on you as you dreamd. Ive lookd down as you turnd in yor bed and opend yor eyes for a moment as sleepers often do. So maybe you saw me in what you thort wer dremes. Do you remember enything of me?”

  I trembl as she aproaches.

  “Do you Billy?” says Mam. “Anser Missus Malone, son.”

  I look bak at Missus Malone. Yes thers sumthin like her alredy in me. Sum imaj or sum memry. Payl fays cold eyes & jetblak hare.

  “I d-dont . . .” I say.

  “Of cors you dont.” She prods my sholder with her stik. She leans down to me & I feel her cold breth fall acros me. “But as wel as lookin down on you in resent yers I was also with you at the very start William Dean. I was ther 13 years ago wen you wer a sloppy thing a tiny bluddy screemin thing. I was ther on the day of doom.”