It was May when Father Griffin was meeting me in the Vancouver International airport. A long drive awaited us and I was barely holding it together. I had taken a night flight from Zurich and hardly slept while onboard. It was noon when I arrived so we still had a good portion of the day. We stopped in east Vancouver, on Commercial Drive for lunch, then proceeded to the 401. Father Griffin seemed unusually taciturn, and I was so tired that I really felt under little obligation to make conversation with him. Then he opened up and began to talk about you, Aaron."
"The dickens you say," Aaron says, smiling with more than just a touch of irony.
"Perhaps you wouldn't mind taking the floor from here, Mr. Zacharias?"
"Nothing would give me more pleasure! Where would you like me to start?"
"Well, you did know my father."
"Oh yes, Jan. We actually met in two places. First at my father's in Robert's Creek. I was going through quite a difficult time then myself. I had become unemployed and homeless and was staying part time with my dad in Robert's Creek, and maybe three or four days of the week with various friends in Vancouver. Yes, your father, Carl. A very interesting man, I should say."
"What do you remember of him?" asks Melissa.
He was a friend of my dad's through AA, or, Alcoholics Anonymous. They both fell off the wagon at around the same time, four years earlier, and had become occasional drinking buddies. I wouldn't say they were close friends. But your dad had a girlfriend in Robert's Creek, and he was up visiting her. She was also a good friend of my dad's, so he was a frequent visitor. I remember a very intense man, usually quiet and held in until he had a few then watch him go! He invited me to return with him to stay here at the house for a few days. He seemed to be leaving alcohol alone during the time so it was actually pretty tolerable. And then I met Father Griffin. And not for the first time....
The Peacock 25
"How long have you known Father Griffin?" Carol is asking Aaron.
I really wish he would get that creepy smile off his face. He seems, on the whole,
like a really lovely person, but I guess we all have our dark side.
"Would you like me to", and here his smile intensifies, almost a bit sinister, "Tell you.. everything?"
"Well, I am sure you would only love to, but..."
"Just the facts, Ma'am?"
"Alright then", Carol says with humorous exasperation. "Tell us everything."
"Are you all sure, now? This is going to be a long and tangled tale..."
"But not boring", Carl interjects.
"So, Brother Carl, you are giving me carte blanche?"
"Full menu, dude. Just don't forget the twenty percent tip."
"I thought it was fifteen."
"And you, my friend, I know to be outlandishly generous."
"Father Griffin and I first met at St. Jude's, the High Anglican church in Vancouver's
notorious Downtown Eastside. It would have been around 1990, or thirty years ago.
Let's just say that we didn't much like each other. I guess I owe you folks a little bit
of background. You see, I was part of an intentional Christian community, back in the day,
and we were heavily involved in street ministry, as well as reaching out to people in the
queer community, sex workers of all genders, street punks, trans people, you name it.
We were also involved in palliative and pastoral care for people dying from AIDS, which back in the
day was a death sentence."
"Were you providing a ministry with the church?" asks Carol.
"Yes and no. We didn't actually have formal approval or blessing from the church, but we did
enjoy within a couple of parishes a lot of silent support, but also some not very silent
opposition. My first contact with Father Griffin occurred during one of the evening masses.
He was celebrating, and since he was new to us, we all agreed to introduce ourselves after the service.
So, my two companions in community, and I, all went to the vestry where we smiled and
introduced ourselves, and Father Griffin only responded with the most artfully restrained
hostility. Oh but there's more, and it gets a lot worse, and a lot more interesting..."
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