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Authors: Richard Yaxley

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MARGARET

Joyous, My Special

This will be my second to last letter to you because I only have this very big secret about the long ago past and then one letter with a secret from now. This letter and then my last shall be the most difficult of all.

Before I go on I want you to think back to what I have written and maybe even re-read so you are totally clear on how much I as Mamma have loved you and continue to love you. There is no love like a mother for her child not even the Love and Faith for God and you must understand that I have never thought of you as anything less than my own flesh and blood despite what I am about to say. It has not been a web of lies so much as growing up together
from a fresh start due to circumstance and necessity, as you will see. It will come as no surprise to you, I'm sure, to discover that everything began at the same place it ended, with the passing of my dearly beloved Thomas Bowen. Let me explain and please forgive me as I hope and pray the Good Lord has already done.

My biggest Secret of all, Joyous, is about my sister Jennifer. You are not aware of her and only knew Jennifer for a very short time and I would love to show you a photo but the only two I had were burned with the petrol by Sammy-K that time he was angry. Even though they were hidden, somehow he found them. So there is no photo but I can tell you that my sister Jennifer was a beautiful girl, tall and lovely and filled to the brim with love and energy and people going to her in joy because that's the kind of person she was. Jennifer was younger than me by two years so had she lived she would be 52 today and no doubt still as lovely and loving as ever. While it is a tragedy for me that my only sister died so young and I have no photo I am still fortunate because I see her each day. I see her softness and her gentle nature and feel her warmness all the time. I see and feel these things in you, My Special, because you are a constant reminder to me of Jennifer, my sister, your mother. Yes, it's true, your real mother she was, so help me God, now it is out.

Please understand, it is so so important that you do. Let
me tell how it happened that I was given the gift of you, my sister Jennifer's wondrous son, and then judge me as God has no doubt done but know that I never wanted anything but the best for My Special Joyous.

At the age of nineteen my sister Jennifer was pregnant. The man, your biological father, was a fellow passing through, a picker of crops, his name was Joe and going from town to town in search of work. He was at Kinsville for four weeks, or near enough, on the tomatoes during which time Jennifer, who was working as a cook at that property, got to know him and imagined herself to be in love. She was a young romantic girl and very easily swayed in the heart. So Joe, your biological father, had long gone when my Jenny knew that she was pregnant and besides which she was not interested in tracking him down having realised that it was just a passing fancy although pleasant enough in his own way for the four weeks at least. At that stage it was just her and me and my beloved husband Thomas Bowen on the farm, our parents having passed on within six months of each other some time before, one of cancer, the other of sorrow, which can happen when two people are so loving. The three of us had a chat and we agreed Jenny's child shall be all of ours raised in a place of love and togetherness and everyone was happy with that. Thomas and me also thought that the gift of children would come to us soon enough and there would
be playmates for Jenny's little one, that is you, My Special. So that made our decision easy too.

Thus we were looking forward to a beautiful family on our farm but it wasn't to be and this is an instance that God, I know, works in his mysteries that we must do our level best to understand. So it was that my dear sister Jennifer gave birth to you and what a wondrous boy you were, smiling and giving us so much pleasure. Then Thomas Bowen wrote on your birth certificate, as you know he did, on behalf of us all and we laughed with happiness beyond what we could have believed and your lovely mother, my Jenny, said, That is his name then, my dear little Joyous. And so the next decision was made. I know I have told you he was your dadda and it was his philosophy but, you see, I had to invent that he named you, or tell of Jenny, your mother, which I haven't been able to do and I am truly sorry for this misleading but it is and always was what is known as a white lie, done for the purpose of goodness. Besides, in a way it was true because if everything had gone to plan Thomas Bowen would have been like your dadda on the farm with Jenny and me, we had all agreed that this would be so.

But who could have imagined the heartbreak that followed? Jenny and you were soon well enough to come home so Thomas Bowen went to fetch you in his car while I was back on the farm making a welcome home supper.
Scones, as I recall, with homemade apricot jam. But that afternoon, soft light and white, perhaps hazy, with some drizzle, is when fate intervened and Thomas did (said the police, I can't always believe it) his poorly judged whip-around. It was an awful accident that, as you know, killed him and now you know also killed your mother, my beautiful sister Jennifer, as well as badly hurting the truck driver. But somehow you survived, probably because of the special baby seat. That in itself was a miracle, something to be grateful for in the whole horrid mess and wreckage. So as your only relative, you became my son and my link to those happy times of Thomas Bowen and Jenny and me at the farm together. The other point to know was that the doctor discovered you had a little head injury from the car accident which he said may cause a few little problems throughout life and this is why you have had trouble with school and words and understanding the ways of the world. But as I have always said, who cares about those things small and of no matter at all when I have been given the gift of such a wondrous and loving caring person in my difficult life.

You are probably thinking, why Mamma? Why did you not tell me this before? Joyous, there never seemed to be any reason to tell you because nothing could have changed. They were both gone from our lives and we only had each other, so we had to be together. This was the way
of things and I know I should have told you because it is your right to know, but I didn't. Perhaps part of me was also scared of losing you, seeing as I'm not your real birth mamma, and thinking maybe you would want to leave and find your biological father Joe, the picker of crops, which would be impossible. But despite it all, I hope I have been a real mamma to you anyway because it is not just about birth, though that is important, but love, support, belief, being there and giving you a place in the world to have and to hold. I have tried to do that, not always well as you know, and many regrets with Sammy-K especially, but trust me, I have loved you as my own and hopefully as Jenny's too, and done my best and it is certainly true that you have the inner beam of Thomas Bowen, even if he is not your real dadda. So please, forgive me.

Joyous, I sincerely hope that this and my earlier letters have explained all that has come to pass to make us the way we are. As I said before, there is one more Secret to go. More of the future than the past. Please know that part of my Faith has been to be cleaned of past mistakes and to see one's life in the light of God's benevolent love. So with this act of the letters I hope for two things, that you have now an understanding, and that I have the hope of coming properly to the flock when my time finally arrives.

With all my love, with all my hope for you, and being eternally grateful, Mamma

JOYOUS

Go back, you say, mister, go back – to yesterday which was being the bestest day ever of Joyous's time on God's green earth. When Moonbeam did be saying about going on the blue bus it was a time of great happiness and being proud to be sitting on the back seat like a cool guy legend. And the city was gone after a time and we did see the long grass wavy in the wind and horses and sheeps be eating and northbound back to the country which was googlish and radio songs ‘Hey Mister Postman' and Moonbeam did be asking Joyous if he was a happy guy and I was saying, yes, yes, oh yes.

Bestest of all we did be going into Kinsville which I do know because there was a population 742 sign so we did leave the blue bus chugga-lugging away and be walking along a river-path to find Mamma's farm. Which was gone away but instead the kingdom tree of Joyous's being a child bigger than pictures in my head. And in the quietness I did be seeing it and pointing and Moonbeam was saying cool words like, wow, awesome, and running with Joyous which was dandiful the most ever! Nearby the kingdom tree was tall and making me think of a city building looking up so we had swinging on branches for fun then Moonbeam was asking, Hey, Joyous, want to climb up? And I did be nodding then we did shinny up like way back in history times when I was five or six or seven except it was harder because Joyous has growed so muchly to 190 centimetres and 108 kilograms on Mamma's special scales so Moonbeam was quick and helping with her fingers and taking Joyous's hand for easiness. Soon we did find a branch each and be having red petals in our hair alongside the wind and the smell from the river like softly onions in cutting so it was a good bit and Moonbeam did be saying, This is cool, which is a word I like to say now since Moonbeam was teaching me like Mrs Swain.

What was the bestest bit was looking at everything about like the colourful playing ground with a yellow
swing and pretty girl with hair on the red seesaw and the place called Kinsville population 742 and in the long away distance some black-and-white patchy cows and smooth farming paddocks then a hill shaped like a bread-loaf which was things I had in pictures for all my life so that was cool, honkingly so. After a few times and enjoying the sunny face Joyous was thinking about living here in Kinsville near the kingdom tree like Mamma and I used to be doing after the poorly judged whip-around and not to be in the apartment in the city which is hot and no room. And I was thinking some more how it would be mainly beneficial and then I was to be having an independent streak in me like Mamma always says she is wanting so I was deciding that this is what we will do in our futures. Because now Moonbeam has been showing Joyous how easy to be on the blue bus travelling to the country northbound having done it because near the kingdom tree and the softly onion river and the bread-loaf hill is where we belong, Mamma and me.

Then we did share sandwiches which Moonbeam had in her back-packer and mine was egg-lettuce and it was honkingly good to eat in the tree above the world with the wind and the sunbeams then the crusts were wrapped and put away for later. In the cool clean air I did tell Moonbeam more of the story of Thomas Bowen and Mr and Mrs Ickiewicz and the cruel boys and Roscoe
in heaven which is a sadness but working it around, then we did shinny down from the tree because Moonbeam was checking off time and said we should be sitting by the river before the bus back for Joyous. So we did walk along and be sitting on the grass and the water was gleamy and dandiful and Moonbeam was saying that I had to be on the three o'clock bus to get back into the city by four-thirty then walking home for tea, Is that okay, Joyous? Or Mamma would be worrying which we did never want because she is so loved.

Then lo and behold a miracle did be happening because along the shore of the river came some ducks all brown and clucky-looking and bounciful. And I did see them and it was filling me with warm waves and so much oom-papa that Joyous was crying of joy and Moonbeam was patting my arm and saying, Oh wow, Joyous, your duck family, that is the best, that is so cool. Pretty muchly soon the ducks were squiffling into the river and swimming like feathery boats with the ripples behind them in triangle lines and Moonbeam did find the crusts which we had wrapped for later in her backpacker and we did be breaking small pieces and throwing them out to the ducks who came gliding and quacking and snapping crusts and being most wondrous creatures of God. And I was in magic happiness with the kingdom tree and the river and the ducks and my independent
streak and Moonbeam of course being kind and googlish like Roscoe from a time before.

Then it was seven minutes before three o'clock which was the time for Joyous to be taking my ticket up to the bus-stop next to the statue of the soldiers and the names being men of war. And it was a little bit of confusion for me because of Moonbeam staying behind and her face being like Mrs Ickiewicz's face when she did be standing near the pie-warmer which was folded and crumply like an old photo in a t-shirt drawer. So Joyous did be holding Moonbeam's hands for a comfortable moment or two then seeing the bus becoming chugga-lug so have to be ready. And we were saying goodbye because Moonbeam was staying behind like understanding and no questions, so that's the plain and simple kookity end of that.

The last time? Mister, the last time I did be seeing her was to look from behind the window of the favoured blue bus. It was when the ducks were still chomping on those big old crusts and Moonbeam did smile once more in that warm and truesome manner and wave with her long white fingers that I liked and was trusting in the working shop. And Joyous knew then that this was a new bestest bit and Moonbeam did be loving him in her own way like Mamma and would be doing so forever and ever amen, no matter where or when or what would be happening.

JOYOUS and MOONBEAM

This is it, Joyous. This is Kinsville.

Seven hundred and forty-two.

Yeah. Small, hey?

Yes, Moonbeam. Kinsville is not being big like a city of people.

Very. Hey, see that statue-thing in the middle of the park?

Joyous will be looking.

I'm guessing it's a war memorial. What's the official word? Cenotaph. Cen-o-taph. To remind us all about the dead soldiers. There's one in every town.

Mm.

Which is kind of cool. You know, as a link between places.

Kind of cool.

Hey, come over this side. There's a bridge, down there. See? Just past that rise. I can see the railings. Must be the river.

Blue bus, stop for us.

Such a poet! We'll get off here. You okay?

I am in okayness, Moonbeam.

Thanks a lot, Pete. And there's one going back at three, right? To the Transit Centre? Cool. Come on, Joyous. Why don't we start with the river?

Mamma's farm was nearly being by a river. Her and Dadda did take the hand-lines and be fishing and once she was catching a giant slippery eel but not for eating.

Yuck. Revolting things. So, do you remember anything else, Joyous? Any other details that might help us – find things?

No. Joyous was being six or seven or eight years of old when we did be leaving the farm for the city apartment of Sammy-K.

Fair enough. So maybe … maybe if we keep heading down towards the river then follow it along, we might see a farm or three.

Joyous is wanting to see Mamma's farm with the
kingdom tree of Joyous's being a child –

And the ducks, I know, I know. But like I was saying on the bus, it's probably changed. That's what happens. Things change.

Mm.

It sucks but – it was years ago, big guy. Even if we do find the actual farm, it's probably going to be different. Could be a supermarket, road. Anything.

Mm.

Joyous? You do understand, don't you?

Yes indeedy-do. I am thanking you, Moonbeam.

What for?

Explaining to Joyous in a righteous manner, like Mrs Swain.

Who's she?

Mrs Swain is my honkingly good teacher who did explain maths my favoured subject to Joyous with love and care and attention, and also be stopping of the bad boys.

Gotcha. Maths though, Joyous – yuck.

Maths is being yum.

Each to their own. Hey, there it is. There's the river.

Yes. Would Moonbeam be liking of a lollipopsicle?

Raspberry, please. Ta. It's great, isn't it? Peaceful. Look at the way the light bounces –

It is like brokened glass.

Exactly. Well done! Big too, bigger than I thought it would be.

The river is sparklous.

Nice word, legend. Got any more?

The river is dandiful. It is a wondrous river!

It is. Better than that brown garbage dump back home.

There is being a path, Moonbeam. Over there, where Joyous is pointing with his long straight finger.

Sure is. Should we follow it?

Yes, please.

Come on, big guy. We'll find this farm if it's the last thing we do.

    Mamma's farm was being here, Moonbeam. Joyous does know for certainly.

How? How do you know? There's no –

The smells are of the same. Joyous is remembering of the smells.

Really?

Mm.

Even though it was so long ago?

Yes. Joyous has a cleverish nose for the smells. Mamma says Joyous could be smelling a baked biscuit from the other side of the world. Or a roasted chicken roll with gravy sauce, my favourite for special days my birthday.

Fair enough. So, what smells the same?

Wind off the river. Sun on the grass. Small flowers with the purple pieces and whiteness.

So, over there, where that –

It is a playing ground for the children.

Then –

Mamma's house is being gone. It is a playing ground for the children.

Oh, Joyous, I'm sorry.

Mm.

You okay?

Yes, Moonbeam. Things did be changing, like you were telling me and being righteous.

I know. But it would've been good …

Yes, it would've been good.

Sorry, big guy.

Moonbeam!

What?

There. There, on my finger!

Is that it?

It is the kingdom tree!

Really?

Yes. It is the righteous smell, sharp like toothbrushes and the red petals –

It's big, all right. Must have been here for years.

The kingdom tree is forever.

And you used to climb it?

Yes, oh yes, indeedy-do.

Awesome, big tree, all on your own. Just the leaves and the sky and a few loopy birds. Sitting on top of the world.

Yes, Moonbeam. Sitting to be on top of the world.

Playing God. Hey, Joy-ous, okay now?

Yes, Moonbeam. It is a big okayness.

Not too sad about your mother's house?

Joyous is being happy, not sad.

Working things around, are you?

Yes. Moonbeam, the little girl on the red seesaw is being pretty and smiley.

Yes, she is.

And very bounciful. Like Sasha without the sick. She is being happy. Happy like Joyous and happy like Moonbeam!

Maybe.

Now Joyous will be explaining the way of knowing. It could've been a bad bit because Mamma's farm is being disappeared but working around a little is a good bit because the kingdom tree is stretched up high as a flying kite and a playing ground and the pretty little smiley girl is bounciful.

That's the coolest way of looking at the world, Joyous.

Yes. It is the coolest.

Feel like a swing? No, even better. Let's climb up. Let's sit on top of the world.

Yes, Moonbeam. Yes, indeedy-do.

BOOK: Joyous and Moonbeam
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