Free The Testimony of Taliesin Jones by Rhidian Brook

eference to thin gs th at happ en, an accept ance that there is som ething mor e import ant th an his own l ife. Thi s i s r are in T aliesin's eyes. Bill y i sn't rich -his hou se i sn't e ven a whol e hou se, his piano i sn't pri celess a nd he h as no car. H e i sn't th e cl everest man in W ales . H e doesn't read m any b ooks, h adn't h eard o f Anim al Fa rm and h as n ever r ead ' The El ephant Child' . Bill y ev en a dmits t o n ot knowin g th e an swer to thin gs.
    Wh en T aliesin s tarted hi s les sons h e h eard h is fa ther ref er to hi s te acher a s ' Evans The T ouch' . T aliesin pr esumed this r eferred t o Billy 's wa y with th e k eys unt il hi s m other m en tion ed that Bill y was a heal er. T aliesin as ked h er wh at that w as. S he sa id so mething about Bill y helpin g th e s ick, sw iftly a dding th at T aliesin was n ot to ask Mr E vans a bout it b e c ause 'it was a ve ry privat e m atter. It was v ery g ood o f Mr Eva ns t o g ive up hi s tim e, s o h e mu stn't b e tr oubled w ith a ll so rts of qu estions . '
    Thi s was a ga untlet
that he had to pi ck up . ' All so rts of
que stions' b egan t o float t o th e s urface. Wh at exac tly did Bill y d o wh en h e h ealed p eople? H ow did
h e do it ? W as it magic? Were
there spells? Was he some kind of wizard? Was this s omething that
Grown-Ups needed to keep a secret? Something they didn 't want to talk about
~ like God? Who were these people who kept coming to his teacher's house after
the piano lesson? Many times he had arrived for a lesson just as someone
-clearly not well -was leaving the bungalow. And only last week an old lady sat
in the lounge, bent over like a tree in the wind, her hand shaking as she
stirred her tea, while Taliesin tried to play 'The Dancing Bear'. He wanted to
ask Billy who she was and why she was there. She looked too old to be learning
piano.
    Th e vague e xplanations of his parents were not enough to sate his
curiosity. If they couldn't explain what it was that Billy Evans did then he
would find out for himself. Sooner or later he'd ignore his mother 's instructions not to
ask question s. To date this prohibition has kept him discreetly silent . But perhaps if he
shares his own secret with Billy he will be in a position to ask him.
    Welsh Rain has stopped for a rest and allows the land to
drain off the recent fall. It leaves the air damp and cool.
     
    Rain, rain, go away,
    Come again another day.
     
    Billy's bungalow has a prefabricated extension built
around the doorway, acting as a porch. The roof here is corrugated plastic and
translucent, so that when it rains it smack s on the cover and makes a din. The
jerry-built front is filled with junk, including a piano without a lid, the
white keys looking like teeth with gums pulled back. There are ladders , boots, some blue
overalls, cutting equipment and a small pile of slate, left over from his days as
a roofer. Although it's ugly , Taliesin likes Billy's home because it isn't a normal
house . It
has a temporary, toy-town feel, as if it's meant to be played in rather than
lived in.
    Billy
is slow to come to the door and he looks tired and grey.Sleep dust dulls the twinkle in his eye and he is wearing a
dressing gown over his clothes . He holds out
an ushering hand and leads Taliesin into the warmth.
    ' It's stopped
raining,' Taliesin says. Billy smil es hi s half smile. His movements are more languid than u sual and his dressing
gown gives him the air of the invalid . He pats his chest and emits a rasping cough .
    'The weather's given me a chill,' he explains.
    Taliesin
is hot from his walk and his mu sic book wei ghs twice what it did when he set off. Inside the
bun galow it 's stifling
and the whole place smells of gas. The fire i s on
the full three bars and hissing its heat out. It g ives
th e formica and plastic int erior a faint orang e glow.
A chair is right up close to the fire and a blanket lies on the floor . Bill y pull s up another chair for Taliesin and