The Peacock 258

 

 

Carl says, "How would you compare them, Stella and Kenny?"

"They were like night and day, from your description of Stella, anyway.  Kenny had a very open heart and really loved other people.  Even when he was lost in the middle of his addictions and the sex trade.  It seems to me that Stella was capable only of loving Stella."

"I didn't think that she was capable of love. I don't think she was capable of loving.  From the sounds of things she didn't have that great a life growing up."

"Neither did Kenny."

"I wasn't exactly apologizing for her, I suppose.  She did seem to be a complete narcissist."

"Do you think she was happy?"

"Stella was happy when Stella was in full charge and in full control of everything and everyone.  If that control was even remotely threatened, there would be hell to pay."

"Like the way she saw you off when your mom came over."

"And for Stella, once trust was broken, it was goodbye forever.  To this day I don't know if she's even still alive.

"And Kenny, unfortunately, is no longer with us..."

Nothing new in my inbox.  Cripes, it´s already quarter to seven.  I just had time for a quick shower  Went naked again from bathroom to bedroom.  No one around to see me, not Francois, not even Carl.  I don't care, and I know that Carl wouldn't care.  I would like to see him naked.  I bet he is just like Michelangelo's David, including little penis and weirdly sculpted pubic hair.  Circumcised?  But who only knows.  Or cares.  I slept surprisingly well, for just a little more than six hours, but I have to get down for breakfast.  I find it interesting that there are no locks on the bedroom doors.  I guess we really are expected to trust one another, but I really don't know, especially about the brothers George and Jeff.  Or is his name really Edward.  And this Doug guy, their purported leader.  He sounds dangerous actually.  I understand they are going to throw him out of here.  I hope Francois also presses charges.  He sounds like a monster, especially after Aaron's various accounts.  

Carl's borrowed bedroom is almost at the other end of the corridor, and this is a long corridor.  I count five rooms on each side, ten, including mine  This house is enormous.  Carl's door is closed, and I wonder if he's awake yet.  Of course I'm going to check.  I don't want him to miss breakfast.  Three knocks should do it.  No answer.  Three more knocks.  Nothing.  Okay, three good loud knocks.  I hear something.

"Yeah?"  It is Carl's voice.  But who else would it be, but with all the weird surprises and sucker punches since I arrived here three days ago, I never know what to expect.  

"It's me, Chris, are you coming down for breakfast?"

"Good morning, Chris.  Come in."

I slowly, shyly open the door.  Carl is slightly upright in bed, propped by an elbow.

"Sorry to disturb you."

"No worries at all, man.  Shall we go down for breakfast?"  He is smiling.  I have never known anyone so consistently, so chronically cheerful.

When he sees me trying to leave he says,"No, stay, I'll just get dressed.  We can go down together.  Sit down a minute.  There's no hurry..."