Anna and the Black Knight: Incorporating Anna’s Book. Fynn
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then the shep eat the gras and then I eat the shep and so I eat the ded deer and because Mister God make it all, I eat Mister God all time like the people do in cherch. But mine is better becase I do it all the time. Not only sometimes like they do in cherch but every time.
One of Anna’s problems was the fact that things had a habit of changing shapes, from frog spawn to frogs, from caterpillars to butterflies; dead rabbits she had seen in Epping Forest certainly changed their shapes. Even in the house near to us with the green painted woodwork, the house that Anna called the ‘green house’ was slowly changing its appearance and shape. It seemed to Anna that everything needed its shape to live in. I could, of course, have tried to explain the word ‘decay’ but I didn’t. Anna concluded that when a thing changed its shape it was because it had something else to do for Mister God. For Anna, death was just one of those things that happened. Death was that point in life when you began to change shape. Anna and I had sat by Old Granny Harding as she died; changing shape sometimes took a long time, a very long time. Even if Anna never knew what shape Granny Harding changed into, who would argue with her? Not me. After all, if Mister God wanted it, it must be good.
I asked Fin where do the shape (of the deer) go to? And Fin say about the green hous and Fin say becase no one is in it to look after the shape, it start to fall down becase mows and rat go in and they want their shape and they make hols and the shape go to another shape. So wen the deer gos out of its shape, som more thing go in for another shape. And it do too! becase we see a ded rabit shape that was full up of worms and betels and spidres to make another shape and every shape is Mister God shape, but Mister God has not got a propre shape. Mister God is like a pensil, but not like a pensil you can see, but like a pensil you can not see, so you not see what shape it is, but it can draw all the shapes ther is and this is like Mister God. When you grow up you get a bit funy becase you want Mister God to have a propre shape like an old man and wiskers and wrinkels on his face but Mister God do not look like that.
When Twink play tranes, he have a big wood box. Sumtime the box is like a trane and somtime lik a house and sumtime like a ship and sumtime like a car and sum-time you put sum thing in it and sumtime you do not, but you take sumthing out. And the box is like Mister God. Sumtime it luk like sumthing and sumtime is luk like another thing. If you say Mister God is green then Mister God cannot be red, but he is. If you say Mister God is big, how can you say Mister God is litle, but he is. And if you say Mister God is fat, you can not say Mister God is thin, ha! ha! ha! but he is too so! How can you say of Mister God, becase you can not. But I can becase I have a sekrit book Fin give to me. It is a pictur book all about snow flak and every snowflak is not the same. If you look at a snowflak shape it is not the same as another snowflak shape, so it has not got a propre snowflak shape. But you can only call it snow and you can not call it a shape and you see THAT IS LIKE MISTER GOD. You can not call Mister God a thing and you can not call Mister God a shape and you can only call Mister God Mister God.
As Anna began to grapple with her ideas and those very important things she had asked people to write down for her, she began to weave them into little stories. Everything had to be looked at and questions had to be asked. Her questions flowed like a flood tide around and over everything. All this activity made me glow with some pride.
While she sorted through her store of ideas and pieces of paper contained in her numerous shoe boxes, I had to admit to myself that there was indeed something a little strange about Anna. She had no strange powers, no special senses, no special abilities or anything like that. Now, about half a century after her death, I can see that she had the strangest of all qualities. She could WAIT. Wait for the right moment, wait until, for her, everything was just right.
I’m fairly certain that Anna had never been seriously abused. Badly neglected, yes. But, Anna still kept hold of her idea of the perfect mother.
Anna’s ‘Darling Mummy’ was no real person, but something like putting together the jigsaw of the many stories she wrote about her ideas. Her waiting was like cooking – the mixture of the various bits came out as a different dish.
Before I go to sleep I think about Mummy and this is what I think. Did you ever see stars on a frost nigt? They look very clos and it is like they are tide to you with string and yor feet dont tuch the ground and you have not got any wate and when I luk in Mummy eye it is like I have not got no wate and if Mummy dont hold me tite I shall go up in the air like a bird. Did you ever bump into a spidre web when you didnt no and did you ever go asleep on the cul gras and did you ever have a hot drink when you was cold and tired and did you ever strok a duk’s tummy? Well, when Mummy kiss you, it is like that. Sumtime Mummy lips is delekat like a spidre web. Sumtime cul lik gras and sweet. Somtime hot and berning like soop and somtime soft lik a duk tummy very smooth. And when you kiss you have to put yor lips toogethre and so Mummy breeths on you and it smel like all the flowrs in the world and you can tell becase that is wot luv smell like so you can tell how luvly Mummy is.
If you see a funy thing you larf out lowd, but if you have a spesial sekrit insid you, you dont. But you have a spesial smile. And this is like a flower bud that is just going to open, you cant see it but you no it is so butefull inside. And Mummy smile is like that, but you cant see all the flowrs in the world at the sam time. So then Mummy dont smile all her secret smile at the sam time and I am very pashent because Mummy has got milions and milions of sekrit smiles and I luv her so much.
Sumtime Mummy ly down and clos her eye and she luk-like Mary, who I saw in a cherch in a candel lite, but I dont remembr were. But Mummy luk so luvly and cuddly it make me trembul with joy. Dont you think that Mummy is the most butefull one in all the world? Ah but I am going to tell you sum more. I told Neels how luvly Mummy is and Neels told Mister Henriks and I here Neels say if Mummy butey corsed combustion then the hole world wuld go into flams. Neels say it is a complemant. But Neels dont now sumtims. Mummy make me berst in flams. And I ask Neels what is the most big numbre I could say for luving Mummy becase I am not very gud with sums and Neels say if I rite down ‘infinity’ that is the most big. But it dont luk very big but milions and milions of them wold be, but I luv Mummy so much and I will rite sum more.
Mummy is not like no one els becas she dont have to speak if she dont want to. And somtime it is nice when she dont speak and somtime it is nice when she do speak. Becas when she dont speak, Mummy smile and this is very good. Mummy has got a speshul smile and you dont no where it is going to start. Somtime it start from her toes and somtime from her finger and somtime from her tummy and then it pop out of her eye and out of her mouth and this is very nice becas you now it is coming and you wate for it to cume. So it cum like a pressant wich is a big surprise. And wat is nice about Mummy is watever she do is like a pressant. And wen you think about Mummy this is good too. When you think about peple you can think bad thing and narsty thing like hurt and pane and sick, but when you think about Mummy, you cant. And you can only think nice thing that are happy like Mister God. And warm. And how nice to be me, becas if I was not me I would not know, would I?
Oh dear, ther is so many things I wish I culd say, but I do not know how to say becas how can you say about love with a pensel and a paper becas you can not reely. But you can try, cant not you, so