The Peacock 1230

 We are on Skype now, Erik and I. At first I didn't want to, but he was insisting. Truth is, it isn't just because I don't want to wake anyone in the house, but really, I don't know what to say to him.  I am feeling burdened with him, as well as with all my sudden houseguests, and frightened and resentful.  He wants me to explain to him what I know about Lindstrom and how.  I am waiting for him to put on his headphones, and I have just found and adjusted mine, because I really want this call to be as quiet as possible.

"How did you first hear about him?" asks Erik.

"From Kenny's diary."

"Kenny?"

"He was my best friend and lived here with my dad and I for five years."

"You never told me about him."

"No?"

"No.  never."  This of course does not surprise me. I have never been in the habit of disclosing information that didn't seem absolutely essential.  Dad used to tell me I was secretive.  But he should talk.  It took years before I could pry even basic information from him about my mother, especially about her death. And of course, my wife and brother in law were also your classic monosyllabic Swedes...

The Peacock 1229

 To my surprise I am feeling tired.  And cold.  And a little bit hungry.  Perhaps a bit of toast with peanut butter, then a snooze on the couch.  I really don't want to go back to bed, and  besides, I am not really that tired.  But I do want to doze anyway.  Two slices should do it, and my phone is sounding again.  A notification from Erik.

Hope it isn't too early, though I imagine you re still sleeping.  had nightmares last night.  Lindstrom was trying to hunt me down and now I'm afraid to go back to sleep.  This confinement is really getting to me.  I'm awake right now if you are.

"Hello?" says Erik.

"How are you."

"Oh, Christopher, how good to hear from you.  So you re awake?"

"I had quite a good sleep, but I'm soon going down for a nap.  Listen, Lindstrom is here and he tried to force his way into the house, looking for you.  Fortunately police trailed him from the airport and have him in custody.  He is likely to be sent back to Sweden on the next flight, so I think we're safe for now, anyway."

"This is like being in a really badly done science fiction thriller."

"Movie or book."

"Take your pick.  "By the way, your sister tried to connect with me on Facebook then sent me a very rude email."

"Block her."

"I will."

"Right now."

"I promise..."

The Peacock 1228

It is chilly for May.  Sheebah cat precedes me through the door.  I suppose I could check my Facebook status.  I haven't even thought of social media in months.  A notification.  From Greta.  She wants to connect with me.  I am going to decline.  I suppose she wants to nag me about her dear little brother.  And an email from my ex.

"I just got a text from Sven who is now in police custody.  You are going to have to answer for this, you know."

My response:

Please do not bore me with idle threats, Greta.   I happened to be asleep on the couch at the time, and so neither I nor anyone else that I happen to know has had anything to do with your blonde Nordic studly landing in the slammer here.  I imagine he should be already on his way back to Sweden where he is going to face the music.  Do not contact me again

Send.

And this, you know, happens to be the first time I have ever openly stood up to my terrifying ex wife.  It feels rather good.

The Peacock 1227

 It's quite a cool morning out here on the deck, so I am still wearing Dad's dark blue housecoat.  Sheeba the cat is keeping me company in the next chair.  The sky is overcast and the fragrant air a vibrancy redolent with birdsong.  All appears quiet in the home of Chelsea's grandmother, where she appears to have set up camp.  I wonder if she will end up living there long term?  Tomorrow is Saturday, when she will be coming over for dinner and then to cut and colour our hair.  It would be interesting to get George and Jeffrey, and of course, Jesús, in on the act.  Do I really want green hair?  Or perhaps purple?  I wonder how I would look as a blonde.  I have never been a blonde before.  Never in my life.  I may be part Mexican, but I look way more like my mother than like my father.  People have always mistaken me for Latino.  Not really a mistake.  And maybe it is time to learn Spanish?  I could ask Jesús to teach me.  Well, as they say, there is a first time for everything.  I am really looking forward to getting my car back tomorrow. Now it is sure that I will never have to return again to that horrible mansion.  And I will also have some independence from Carl.  He's not going to like that much... 

The Peacock 1226

 This search on google for Jesus as a teenager is anything but rewarding.  What comes up first are several entries on a rock band called Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, which I am not about to dignify with my very limited curiosity.  Then there is the esoteric claptrap that from thirteen to twenty-nilne he was traveling in India and learning from Buddhist monks and Hindu sages.  just one little bit seems to make sense, that it wouldn't be for another four hundred years that he would become famous enough for anyone to want to ask those kinds of questions, so likely he spent that time in his life just hanging out and learning to be an adult.  But that kid in the dream, the same kid who gave Carl that lemon balm, who is he really?

The Peacock 1225

 What a rare treat this has become, to sit here all alone in the early morning with no one present but my cup of coffee at the kitchen table.  I do not want this moment to end.  Rather odd that Carl should ask for permission to go back to bed, but not François, who just unceremoniously upped and went back to bed.  I don't know which I prefer, since I am still far from feeling used to sharing with others my father's house.  And now we have George and Jeffrey sleeping in the den.  Well, why not, I suppose.  It's probably good for my mental health having my friends close by like this.  But I really want, right now, just now, to be alone.  I suppose I could go out for a walk, but I have no idea how far I'd get, plus, with the couple having just passed their first night under my roof, it would be the height of rudeness to not be here for them whenever they are ready to come in for breakfast.  But not right now.,  Please Lord, not right now,  Just this time alone for now with you and my precious cup of joe....

The Peacock 1224

 Francois suddenly gets up and empties into the sink what is left in his coffee mug.

"Had enough?" say I.

"I suddenly want to go back to sleep for a while", he says.  "The coffee is good, by the way, so don't get hurt about my dumping it.  I just need to get back to bed for a while."

I can hear him climbing the stairs and Carl, suddenly solemn and thoughtful, says, "My fault, I guess."

"Don't blame yourself.  We have been through quite a night.  My dad's robe looks really nice on you."

"Thanks.  I like it.  may I keep it."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

We seem to have nothing further to say.  Carl quickly sucks back his coffee and says, "Mind if I go back to sleep for a while?"

"This is your home, Carl.  Go back to bed..."