The Testimony of Taliesin Jones (31 page)

'Listen
,'
his father says. But Taliesin can only hear
their breathing. He has almost two breaths to his father's one, the same as the
footsteps.
'
Well, what do you think?' his
father asks. In truth it is cold and damp and Taliesin would rather be
somewhere else
.
The magic of the cave is
something that exists in his father's head, not his
.
The stories which once meant so much and were so convincing
,
no longer hold sway
over
him. He doesn't even feel fear at being in this place, the very front room of
the dragon's lair. As he looks into the blackness he knows that there is
nothing there but the fancy that his mother saw.

CHAPTER NINE

HOW HOOPER LOST HIS FINGER is the subject of Class
Assembly
.
Hooper
starts as if everyone is against him and then, seeing the class respond well to
his more outrageous claims, he begins to enjoy himself, taking liberties with
the truth. Taliesin finds the tale unamusing
.
For him, it doesn't work
.
What starts as a plausible
retelling soon deteriorates into something unbelievable. Hooper is concerned
with impressing the class with quantity rather than quality. He pumps hyperbole
into the tale
.
The tractor is The Heaviest Tractor in Wales. His finger
was trapped in the cutter and there was enough blood to fill a swimming pool.
Plus, he had to lever The Heaviest Tractor in Wales off his hand
.
(Cries of 'You
never'. Replies of 'I bloody did'
.)

Hooper is at his most excessive when talking about pain
and blood. The class seem to love it, laughing louder as the facts become more
fabulous
.
Hooper
responds like a genie who can double any statistic and multiply it by ten
.
His story has an
organic quality. It seems to grow and grow: ten becomes twenty, hours become
days, a cottage hospital becomes The Biggest Hospital in Wales and then the
world in only one sentence.

As
Hooper receives the applause, Taliesin wonders how the class would react to the
story of Mrs Willis
.
One or two might be
interested, but even Julie Dyer seems taken in by Hooper's swank. Despite her
claims of hatred towards Hooper, he can see her laughing. This is hard to
account for. What she says isn't what she does.

Besides, what's a back being straightened compared to
these magnificent fibs? They'd find it too mysterious and bloodless. Sure, they
might believe that he prayed for an old woman; they might accept that he laid
his hands on her back to do this; but they would never believe that the lady
arrived doubled up and left standing as straight as a
s
kyscraper. 'Don't
throw your pearls to pigs,' Billy told him
.
Taliesin remembers this advice and seeing
the snorting class around him he decides that now isn't the time to share these
things.

This day has the first presage of winter in it, an extra
bite that makes Taliesin's nipples stand up
.
He is in the school yard with Luc Daniel,
playing jacks. The ground is wet so they squat on their haunches and their
mouths shoot out vapours like spirits. Taliesin is wearing gloves which serve
the double purpose of keeping the cold from his hands and his warts from the
world. He has eleven warts now, clustering around his fingertips
-
four on his left
hand, seven on his right. The original wart has spawned a callous offspring
that can no longer be hidden by clenching his hand. They are conspicuous enough
for other people to notice them and make comment. Every time Luc Daniel passes
up the jacks he rubs his hands off.

'I won't catch any germs from you through the gloves,
will I?
'
he
asks.

'Probably not,' Taliesin says.

'How do you get warts, anyway?' Luc asks
.

'I
don't know,' Taliesin replies, although he's had plenty of conflicting advice.
His father has told him to keep washing his hands and not shake hands with
anyone he likes; his brother said that's what you get for reading too many
books and turning too many dirty, yellowed pages. The grocer talked about the
need for more vitamins, recommending apples, kiwis and parsley -which has the
highest content ofvitamin C of any known food, apparently. Beyond apples,
curbing his readin
g habits and time, no other cure
has been suggested.
 

Taliesin
is convinced that they are a sign of some kind, a sign from God. But as divine
communication goes these crusty lumps are hardly sublime. Perhaps they are a
punishment for something that he has done -asking too many questions, telling
lies, wetting his bed
.
Or they might be a reaction
to his mother leaving home. Maybe his skin is hardening in response to events
and becoming a kind of p
rotective outer layer.
There is a reason.

'My
mum's going to do a fan-bloody-tastic recipe for you when you come round,' Luc
enthuses. 'I told her that you didn't eat properly because you haven't got a
mother around
.
I told her about your warts.
She says you need a square meal.'
Taliesin is glad
of the invite but upset that his warts have to be the premise. He hasn't met
Luc's mother before and now he won't be able to shake her hand. He pictures her
talking to Luc and Luc holding out his hands for inspection, all clean. 'I told
her all about you,' Luc continues
.
'I told her how you like to read books all the time
.
I told her that you
believe in God.'

Taliesin
would like to tell Luc all about Mrs Willis and her amazing straightening back
but he can't quite trust him. Luc might stil1 prove a pig with his pearls
.
Although he is his best friend this has more to
do with sitting next to each other during registration and a child's lack of
prejudice than anything else. It is just one of those circumstantial
friendships that could develop or not. They are not yet friends who would die
for each other. Luc would never lay down his life for Taliesin, and Taliesin
would find it hard to sacrifice his interesting life for Luc's, If they were
washed up on an island -like those boys In that book he's reading now -Luc
would be the first to daub himself in war paint; and if there was only enough
food on the island for one he wouldn't flinch as he slipped a bamboo spear into
his sleeping friend's heart. If Taliesin has a be
st
friend it is still his books
.
He
prefers the companionship of a good book. He could die for a good
b
ook, o
r
a c
haracter in
o
ne. H
e co
uld
e
ven die f
or c
haracters in b
ad
b
ooks.
H
e wo
uld r
ather s
pend tim
e wi
th R
alph a
nd P
iggy or S
nowball
a
nd B
oxer.

It
's
n
ot
lik
e
th
e gi
rls in h
is class
. B
oys
do
n't
h
ave
th
e sa
me
a
bility
as g
irls t
o forge
th
ese
m
eaningful
b
est-friendships;
th
ey
d
on't see
m t
o s
hare th
e sa
me s
ecrets a
nd intim
ate
d
etails. Ta
liesin lik
es
L
uc
but h
e
n
ever
r
eally
li
stens
to
w
hat h
e sa
ys
.
F
or a s
tart, h
e
h
as a
di
stracting s
haped mouth th
at
d
oes o
dd thin
gs w
hen h
e
t
alks a
nd T
aliesin
h
as g
rown
acc
ustomed t
o
Lu
c's o
nce
im
pressive
s
plitting up
o
f
w
ords
a
nd in
sertion o
f a
wo
rd lik
e '
bloody'
in i
ts m
iddle.
T
aliesin a
dmires Lu
c's e
nthu
siasm
for almost
a
ny thing th
at
m
oves
but h
e's
fru
strated
b
y
hi
s
t
endency
t
o ge
t b
ored
qui
ckly-
the re
sult o
f ha
ving
p
arents
th
at spoi
l h
im
.
(Alr
eady
Lu
c is
b
ored
with hi
s wa
ter-resistant t
o
t
wenty-five
m
etres wa
tch
wi
th th
e c
hronograph di
al
that t
ells
th
e
t
ime
in Indi
a a
nd Br
azil si
multaneously
.)

And
ye
t, f
or a
ll thi
s,
T
aliesin
ha
s
a de
sire
t
o
shar
e w
hat h
e saw
w
ith
hi
s frie
nd. H
e
f
eels
th
at
it is tre
asure
to
o va
luable t
o
bur
y.

'
Are
yo
u
a
ll ri
ght
?
'
Lu
c as
ks.

'
What?'

'
Who
we
re
yo
u t
alking to
ju
st t
hen,
w
hen
yo
ur lip
s we
re m
oving?
Y
ou
l
ooked
lik
e y
ou
were
t
alking
t
o so
meone.'

'
I
was j
ust th
inking.'

'
My f
ather says
th
at
p
eople w
ho talk
to th
emselves a
re
a
bit in th
e
h
ead
.
M
en-bloody-tal.
H
a!'

T
aliesin
think
s o
f h
is
f
ather's
recent dialo
gue
with the k
itchen wa
ll
a
nd w
onders i
f
i
t
co
unts
as
t
alking
t
o yo
urself if
yo
u r
eally i
magine
yo
u're t
alking
t
o so
meone el
se.