The Peacock 472

 "It´s kind of hard to explain.  He came here in the mid sixties with his girlfriend.  They were kind of abducted or manipulated and were part of a really bizarre cult that was living here at the time.  He was from Spain.  If you ask them, I'm sure Jesús and Aaron will be glad to help you catch up.  They have been reading it to us the last couple of nights."

"And this guy's name was Cosme.  That is so odd."

"This whole place is odd", I say.

"It's haunted."

"Yes, I believe you are right."

"What's it been like for you, living here for ten years?"

"I really don't know where to begin."  He pauses to take a sip of coffee.  His hand seems to have a slight tremor.  "I would say that after a decade here, this place still doesn't feel like home.  I would like to get out of here.  If I knew where to go.  I'm not exactly young, as you can see."

"It's really beautiful here", I say, "I mean the house and the grounds."

"I guess I should feel privileged being here.  especially with the kindness of Carl and Melissa and all they have done to support us here and our community.  But all that seems to be up for change now.  Especially now that our leader is gone."

"There was quite the drama here the other day, when he left."

"Maureen told me all  about it  We're all upset."

"Do you miss him?"

"We are feeling the void he has left.  I can't say that any of us actually loved him.  But Doug did hold everything together..."

The Peacock 471

Glen and I are left alone at the table.  This feels for me awkward, not because I don't like him, but because I really seem to like him.  He appears shy and self contained.  He also spares me the effort of having to come up with a conversation starter.

"How are you enjoying this place, Christopher?"

"I only wish I knew how to answer that."

"Did you only just arrive?  Wait, I think I have seen you in the garden the last couple of days."

"I think for me it's been around five days.  You know, I had amnesia when I arrived here."

"That happened to me, more than ten years ago."

""Did you also forget your name?"

"Cosme?"

."That happened to me.  My first full day here.  Carl had to help me get on my Skype account so I could remember my real name."

"No one ever explained to me",says Glen, "About Cosme."

"He lived here during the sixties."

"How do you know?"

"It's all in the journal he left here.  Carl held onto it for years."

"Why didn't he tell me anything.  Didn't he read it?"

"It was all written in Spanish, so he couldn't read it.  But two of the other guests here, Jesús, who is Colombian, and Aaron, both speak Spanish, so they are together translating it for us..."

 

The Peacock 470

 "Wait a minute", says Sarah, "isn't there work to do?"

"Francois and Tristan are doing the floors upstairs", says Carl, "George and Jeff are working in the garden, Melissa and Carol are making pies  And I think that Maureen and Jenn are taking care of the third floor today.  Who only knows what the others have got up to, and I think that Aaron and Jesús are on a hike together, an excuse for both of them to speak Spanish.  Everything's taken care of.  We can hang out and lolligag like faux royalty."

"I feel restless", says Sarah, "Like I really need to go dancing."

"Why don't you?" says Carl.

"Ha!  I only wish!"

"I'm also feeling restless", says Glen.

"It's probably from all the coffee", say I

"And I am putting on another pot", says Carl, heading for the kitchen.

"Hey Carl", she says, "How much milk do we have left?"

"Lots."

"Make a big batch of cocoa?"

"Only if you supervise.  You have the magic touch for all things chocolate, my good Sarah..."

The Peacock 469

 Sarah says to Glen, "Didn't take you long to convince him to change his mind."

"Let's see how he does working this morning with Father François", he replies.

"I would love to be a fly on the wall", says Carl.

"Why do you waste your time on him?" Sarah says, clearly not happy about the situation.

"Why does Jesus waste time on any of us?" Carl retorts.  "Did you hear what he just read to us?  I Corinthians.  That's us  Weak, foolish, contemptible, and all so greatly loved by the great Divine lover himself."

"I couldn't say it better", says Glen.

"But what he said about Francois.  That's worse than horrible", says Sarah.

"Doug did an ace job of brainwashing him", Glen says.  ""Even I wasn't immune, and it actually took his abusive treatment of Father François to snap me out of it."

"Anyway", says Carl, "It'll be interesting to hear what they have to tell us during coffee time."

"When do you want to go work out in the back", says I.

"What time is it?" says Carl.

"Almost nine."

"It can wait till after lunch."

"isn't it supposed to start raining at noon?" says Sarah.

"It can wait till tomorrow.  How's everyone's coffee...?

The Peacock 468

"That is us."

"That it is", says Glen.  "Oh Glen, would you like more coffee?" 

"I can get it", he says.

"stay where you are.  I will serve you your coffee."

"Thank you."

"How do you like it?"

"Double double."

All the mugs here are the same shade of deep midnight blue.  Then Glen mentions, "You know, I used to have a mug just like this one.  It was my favourite.

"They are elegant", says Sarah indifferently.

Francois appears in the doorway.  "Excuse me, I am about to start washing the floors on the second floor, and I would really like it, Tristan, if you could help me."

"I'm reading the word of God", he mumbles.

Carl says, smiling at him, "And now you have a chance to live out the word of God."

Tristan says nothing, glances around at all eyes focussed on him, gets up from the table and follows Father Francois out of the room...

The Peacock 467

 "What are you reading exactly?" says Carl

Tristan begins to read aloud:

.

18 For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. 

19 For it is written: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.” 

20 Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? 

21 For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. 

22 Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, 

23 but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 

24 but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 

25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. 

26 Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. 

27 But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. 

28 God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, 

29 so that no one may boast before him. 

30 It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. 

31 Therefore, as it is written: “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.”

The Peacock 466

 Sarah returns, and her mug contains more coffee.

"That was fast", says Carl, grinning, "How much work did you get done?"

"I don't feel like working outside right now"", she says as she takes her seat again.

Tristan is ignoring all of us while he reads his small Bible. 

"What are you reading, Tristan?" says Carl, good-naturedly.

"The word of God."

"Which words of God?" says Carl.

"Corinthians."

"Oh, you mean you're reading the word of Paul", says Sarah.

"The Holy Spirit wrote it through Paul."

"Some of it anyway, I would imagine", she says wearily.

"All of it.  That's your problem, Sarah.  You don't believe in the Bible."

"I suppose that is my problem she says", almost slamming down her cup of coffee.  "But I do believe in the one whom the Bible talks about."

"It's the word of God.  All of it.  As Jesus says in Matthew, every jot and tittle." Tristan has not raised his voice, but seems to prefer to maintain the same inexpressive mumble...

The Peacock 465

 Tristan does return to us, followed by Glen.  They both take seats at the table, saying nothing.  Tristan looks sullen and defeated, but still not prepared to accept defeat.  Carl brings them both coffee  Sarah appears annoyed, and apparently not interested in participating, though she does stoically remain, focussing more on her cup of coffee than the people she is sharing the table with.  She had might as well be at a communal table in a trendy coffee shop with her laptop in front of her, for all she seems to care.

"You'll miss your cab", Carl says smiling, as soon as he sits down again.  Tristan doesn't reply.  

"Tristan has agreed to stay long enough to meet with everyone this morning", says Glen.

"And after that I'm leaving", he says defiantly.

"As you wish", says Carl.

The boy, and he seems like a boy, appears about to burst into tears, but then his face hardens.  He is not easily going to cede anything.  He rifles through his pack and pulls out a small book, evidently a Bible, which he opens and begins to read.  

"Are we still going to work on the trail", I say to Carl.

"It can wait till the afternoon.  Provided it doesn't rain", he says.

"I'll go", says Sarah, swallowing the last of her coffee.  

"Sure you want to do it alone?" says Carl.

"I'm a big girl.  I know where the tools are."  She gets up and heads for the kitchen with her mug, 

"And where the bodies are buried", says Carl.

"That too", she says smiling.

The Peacock 464

 "Don´t make idle threats, Sarah."

"Maybe we could give him a chance", say I.  "I mean, I don't know the guy, but surely he merits a hearing, even if his views are really objectionable."

"If he does return", says Carl.  "I would say he has that look of the little boy who threatens to run away from home because he won't eat his broccoli."

"How long has he been here?"

"He came with Doug, whom he credits with having rescued him from a life of addiction and prostitution.  They were inseparable, and Tristan has always clung to every word that proceded from the mouth of his exalted leader."

"They were totally codependent", scoffs Sarah.

"I personally hope he will stay", says Carl.  "At least so we can help him deprogram from Doug's brainwashing."

"Are you sure you're equal to the task", says Sarah.

"Time will tell.  And that depends on if he comes back, which I'm sure he will", says Carl.

"Well, he seems to respect Glen, so maybe he can do the work.  I'm sure not up to it", says Sarah.

"No one says that you have to like everybody", Carl says.  "But we are called to love one another.  More coffee?"...

The Peacock 463

 "Maybe Tristan can persuade Glen to jump in the cab with him", says Sarah, holding her coffee mug by the handle in midair, her head lowered over the table.

"What do you have against Glen."

"He´s an idiot.  He's a Holy Fool who can't seem to see bad in anyone.  And around this house, Carl, there is plenty of bad and enough idiots to harbour it."

"I can't say I really know him well.  He hasn't been around much, even in ten years."

"He has been kind of a part time anchorite.  He would often stay in his room for months, leaving only for an hour of fresh air and exercise outside.  Otherwise, we would bring him his meals and often visit him for his words of holy counsel and wisdom.  We never really connected."

"I would have to call him a divine gift that has yet to be unwrapped", says Carl.

"He'd better not bring that little snake back with him."

"And if he does?"

"I might leave."

"The room", says Carl, now looking authentically worried.

"All of you..."

The Peacock 462

Glen jumps up and hurries after Tristan.

"What ARE you doing?" says Sarah.

"I'm going to see if I can persuade him to stay."

"But I don't want him to stay.  He's a problem.  Glen, let him go."

"He is our brother."

"Speak for yourself!"

"Sarah", says Carl looking at her sternly and calmly.  "Just chill, eh?"

"You chill", she retorts.  "That little rat is evil personified.  We don't want him here.  We don't need him here."

"We will all talk to him together and see if we can discern together.  Leave him with Glen.  He'll be in good hands.

"Did you just hear what he said about Francois?  That is completely unacceptable."

"Francois will be part of the conversation.  After than we can all come to a consensus.  How is your coffee?"

"I could use a warm up," she mutters sullenly...

The Peacock 461

"Good morning, Tristan", says Sarah, rather carefully.  He chooses to ignore her.

"Tristan", says Carl with forced conviviality  "Will you join us for coffee?"

"I don't have time. The taxi will be here in less than fifteen minutes."

"Taxi?" says Sarah, incredulously.

Tristan produces his backpack, as though for inspection.

"You're leaving us?" she says.

"You drove out our teacher.  How can I stay", and his chin appears to tremble, as though he is trying not to cry.

"Excuse me", says Sarah, "Are you not at all aware of what he did to Father Francois?"

"He was his slave.  Brother Douglas had a right."

"I am not going to dignify that with a reply." And Sarah is ablaze with indignation.

"I will wait outside", says Tristan.  He backs away while putting on his pack, then turns and walks away.  He seems awfully young, still in his twenties, with a particularly childlike face framed by dark wavy hair.  R like a sullen and hurt little boy whom you would rather wrap your arms around than scold and rebuke...

"

The Peacock 460

 "What was this community you were previously involved in?" I ask Glen.

"It was a trans-denominational affair, in Saanich, near the water, on the grounds of an old convent.   The Place of the Transfiguration.  Our landlords decided to sell it off for  development purposes leaving us homeless, so Carl was kind enough to take us under his wing."

"How did you get there?"

"Father Griffin, of course."  Glen I already like, completely.  His gentle humour reminds me a bit of Aaron, and I imagine that they must know each other.   "He was visiting us on a retreat and when he heard of our predicament, he said he would tell Carl and Melissa about us and see if we could find a new location for our community.

"That fills in a blank or two", say I.

"And of course, the others came, principally from the Abbey, but also Sarah and Maureen and Jennifer."

"And Douglas", says Sarah.

"From whom we are finally delivered", says Glen.    

"I would have to say that we are all going to need some time to heal from his damage...and also from Robert Griffin, who really created a few problems of his own for us", she says.

"And who is this Tristan?" I ask.

"He's the guy standing here at the doorway eavesdropping on all or you."  And there is a young man in a black T shirt and dark blue track pants glowering at us from he doorway..."

The Peacock 459

 "How long have you been here, Glen?" I ask, both from politeness and curiosity.

"Ten years, at least."

"We arrived here around the same time didn't we?" says Carl.

"I think you were a couple of weeks ahead of me."

"And, you would be one of our guests", says Glen, smiling with a tenderness I find both disarming and rather scary.  "One of Father Griffin's proteges?"

"Ex-protege", says Carl.

"Me too.  And now we are in your capable hands", says Glen to Carl with a slight giggle. 

"And Glen, you came here slightly ahead of Michael and his mom?" Sarah asks.

"Followed by the others, Adam and Lazarus came together, followed by Matthew."

"You´re not from the monastery?" I ask.

"We were all part of a Christian community on Vancouver island.  But we met each other before in Vancouver, around twenty years ago. .." 

  

The Peacock 458

 The voice is coming from a tall older man standing at the doorway.  I haven't seen him before.  He seems remarkably serene, and there appears to be kindness in his face.  His hair is nearly white and he has large penetrating grey eyes, and the face of a saint.  I am not sure which saint, but in this person's presence I feel truly and authentically good.

"Hello Glen", says Carl with a welcoming smile.  "Won't you come in and sit with us a bit."

"I don't mean to keep you from anything."

"We are not in a hurry around here", he says, openly gesturing to one of the empty chairs, "Come in and meet our good friend Christopher."

"Pleased", says Glen, extending to me his hand.  

And now we are all seated together.

Glen says, "Michael, Lazarus and Adam will all be down here shortly.  Sheila is resting right now, but she also said that she is going to join with us."

"And how about the other two?"

"Tristan alone refuses to compromise, but Matthew seems almost persuaded.  He said he will come down for coffee anyway."

"Except for Tristan, anyway", says Sarah, "that is incredibly good news..."

The Peacock 457

 I wonder about first washing my feet, since they are feeling pretty grody right now.  I skip the bathroom and go straight to my room.  On further examination, they seem perfectly clean, but for a couple of pieces of floor grit, and absolutely without odour.  I simply sweep off the grit and reach for the socks.  Easy Peasy  Then I hear something,  I strain to listen and I hear it again.  The caterwauling of a peacock.  Yes, it must be real.  

We might even see him today.  I don't know if they have already gone outside or if they are waiting for me in the house.  I cannot seem to find them.  I look in the kitchen where Melissa and Carol are both peeling apples.  "Have Carl and Sarah gone out in the back yet?" I ask.

"We're still in here", calls Carl from the breakfast room nearby, where he and Sarah have been seated at the table waiting for me.  They don't seem ready to get up, so I take a chair and join them.

"We were just talking about the meeting this morning?", says-asks Sarah.

"Meeting?"

"With the community next door", says Carl.  I want to see if they are ready yet to negotiate."

"That probably won't be necessary", says a man's voice from the doorway...

The Peacock 456

 "Was that Carol?"  The voice belongs to Sarah.  "What  absolutely inspired music.  Where did she go?"

"She's helping Melissa in the kitchen," says Carl.

"Women's work?" Her sarcasm is quite unveiled.

"How about helping us out back". says Carl.

"Doing what?"

"We're just finishing a new trail.  Coming?"

"I trust that is not an order."

"When have you ever heard me give orders?"

"Then your wish is my command.  Are we going now?"

"No, yesterday."

"I just have to put on some shoes first", say I.

"You mean you've been barefoot all this time?" she says.

"You mean it's taken you this long to notice?" says Carl, laughing.

"I can think of a million other things I would want to look at instead of a man's stinky feet", she says in mock disgust.

The Peacock 455

 Carl rushes over to Carol, while I remain standing stupidly and timidly at the doorway.  He sits next to her and drapes his arm around her shoulder while she continues weeping.  She is breaking into sobs, but then gains mastery, and becomes quiet, accepting Carl´s solace.  I find my voice.

"Carol, can I get you a glass of water, or coffee or something. "

 "Water", she says, almost pleading.

The rooms appear to rush through me, rather than me rushing through the rooms.  I pick a tall sturdy looking glass and the water is ice cold.  

"What's wrong?"  The voice belongs to Melissa.

"Carol's having a crisis."  Carl's sister follows me to the reception room.  She appears calmer, her head leaning on Carl's shoulder..

"Carol", says Melissa , " I am going to make apple pies this morning.  I would love to have help with the apples."  Gently, Carol withdraws from Carl´s arm,  reaches for the glass of water.

"I would love to", she says in a whisper.  She turns to Carl.  "Thank you. you are very kind", then to me she directs a weak smile, "Thank you Christopher." Then, like an obedient child, Carol follows Melissa out of the room.

"

The Peacock 454

 I have never heard this kind of music before  There are tones of Rachmaninov, and also Bach, and Beethoven, and something a bit like Philip Glass.  She is very intently focussed on her playing.  There is no music sheet and surely she must be improvising.  Sometimes the music flows like a delicate stream, then a rushing mighty torrent, then like a calm sea, then suddenly the fury of a typhoon, and she seems completely lost in what she is playing as she pours out all the contents of her heart, her soul, of all her sixty-five years of existence on this sorry and unforgiving earth.  Sorrow meets joy, and death is suddenly subsumed in the brilliant light of heaven and then sorrow again, and death and disappointment and despair then suddenly, like a thrush singing just after a thunder storm, the faintest but most exquisite thrill of hope. 

Carl and I alone are present to hear her play, and we stand there, stupid and rapt and thoroughly transported into other places and realms on each note that flies and sings from the keyboard.  Now she is looking up, staring straight ahead, but not seeing us, now her eyes are closed, and the playing continues as her head lowers and her shoulders begin to quiver, and soon the room is silent but for Carol's soft and agonized weeping... 

The Peacock 453

 Melissa doesn't seem like she'll be returning to the table, and I am suddenly at a loss about what to do next.  It is as though she was the one writing the script, and now she has snatched it away from me.  I am going to have to improvise.  I suppose I could go up to my room and put on a pair of socks and shoes, or at least sandals.  No one appears to have noticed that I have been barefoot since I came downstairs this morning.  And for some reason, my feet are feeling a bit icky, as though I have just stepped in dogshit, but upon examination, they appear perfectly clean, no odour, I just am not used to going barefoot, so civilized we are here.  Carl appears in the doorway.

"Wanna hang out?" he says.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I thought you might want to do some more work with me on the trail.  We have almost two hours till coffee break."

"I don't see why not.  Let me go and put on some shoes first."

"Have you been barefoot all this time?"

"Something different, I suppose, but yeah, I've been barefoot all this time."

There is piano music coming from the other reception room and it must be Carol practicing.  This sounds particularly beautiful.  Haunting, and I have to go in for a listen.  Carl comes with me to watch her play...

The Peacock 452

 "Why are you so hard on him?"

"I'm not hard on my brother.  I love him."

"And that is how you show love."

"I said that I love him.  That doesn't mean that I am always going to approve of him.  If you really love someone completely, unconditionally, then you are going to know when to kick their ass.  And you will be crying while you are kicking."

"Makes sense.."  My coffee has grown quite cold, but I still enjoy the bitter sweet flavor.  I didn't put enough sugar in but this time, but somehow it seems to taste better.

"What does your name mean, Christopher."

"Bearer of Christ".

And now she looks at me as a warm, broad and shining smile seems to envelop her face.  This is the first tine I have seen Melissa smile, as she gets up and waits for me to swallow the last of my coffee.  Then she takes my cup, and carries it with her own into the kitchen...

The Peacock 450

 "Drowning.  but I do want to stay here for the whole month, or longer, to see how things pan out with everyone.

 "Did Carl tell you that our mother is coming out here next week?"

"Really?"

With a more gentle gesture, Melissa again sweeps away her long hair from her face.  "You know, I look exactly like her.  But I have my father's personality.  And Carl, he is the complete opposite.  He has Mom's personality and Dad's good looks."

"I am looking forward to meeting her."

"She is a truly amazing woman.  There is even a chance that she will take up residence with us here.  Full lime."

"She doesn't have her community in Switzerland?"

"It has become dominated by other interests, and she has become quite sick and tired of fighting them. Of course, we have made her well aware of some of the problems and challenges that could be awaiting her here, but she seems equal to almost anything."

"You admire your mother."

"Even if she was someone else's mother, I would still admire here.

"What's her name?"

"Astrid."

The Peacock 449

 "Isn't that a bit...precipitous."

"I forget easily that we've just known each other what, five days?  And so much has happened already.  But you are right.  But I think you already know that whatever direction things go in, there will be here for you an open door  If that's what you want."

This is quite a new side to Melissa.  Gentle, appealing, almost needy?  But she is right.  This is only my fifth day here.  And how long really does it take for people to know each other?

"I also have my ex-brother-in-law coming to stay with me in July.  He will be doing his post graduate studies at UBC and I have agreed to let him stay with me."

"Couldn´t you sublet your apartment to him and stay here?"

"I think the idea is, we want to live together.  We haven't seen each other in ten years, not since my divorce from his sister, and we were close, and I think we both want to rekindle the friendship."

"How close", and now her face is taking on the flinty aspect to which I have already grown accustomed.

"Too close.  incestuous, I would say, or borderline."

"Borderline"

"We never actually...went to bed...but we were decidedly into each other."

"As you are now with my brother."

"Melissa, I have this vulnerability, with people.  Men and women.  They easily fall in love with me, and I kind of let them do it, and then we kind of end up..."

"Swimming in the same soup together?"  

The Peacock 448

 "Thing is", says Melissa, "We're still not used to having so many poeple around.  We were pretty sequestered here for a few years, just doing the odd little group retreat, or taking in the occasional lost soul, but nothing this intense.  We're both still not used to it."

"What are your plans, for the house I mean.  Long term."

"That depends very much on our mother."

"I guess you and Carl are the caretakers here."

"That's pretty much it." With her hand Melissa sweeps her long hair out of her face, like a gesture of annoyance.

"What about you, Melissa?"

"what about me?"

"I don't know.  Where can you see yourself in ten years."

"I really don't know.  I'll probably still be here,  but it's hard to say."

"Do you have any work, or vocation of your own?"

"Artistic design.  Also web design.  I'm juggling a few contracts right now.  It keeps me in pocket money, anyway, but, I have enough going so that I would probably still do okay on my own, if you know what I mean."

"How about Carl?"

"He's got his online magazine.  And he freelances.  He'll be okay.  Hey, Chris?"

Even though I prefer Christopher, I am not going to correct her.  I think Melissa, and maybe Carl, as well, may alone have that privilege. 

"Tell me something.  Why don't you stay here and live with us.  Full time..."

"

The Peacock 447

 Everyone, except Carol, is laughing.  and now, breakfast is clearly winding down.  We all collaboratively start clearing the table, and proceed with the washing up.  Those who spent prep time sitting around to chat while watching us all get breakfast ready in the kitchen have without complaining been volunteered to wash dishes and set everything in order.  Melissa is hovering around, trying to stay busy.  I have not yet seen her relax or sit still.  But then, seeing me alone at the table still nursing my coffee, she says, "Want company?"

She pulls over her cup of coffee, still apparently warm.  After a sip, she says, "No room in the kitchen, not with everyone else trying to look busy."

"How do you like Jenn's take on pannekoek?"

"Brilliant interpretation."  She sips her coffee, which appears black and bitter.  "What are your plans today?"

"Hard to say.  I imagine I'll hang out with your brother and other folk here."

"You like Carl."

"Enormously."

"He's in love with you."

"Think so?"

"Be very careful with him, Chris.  He is fragile.  Be kind.  please."

"Thanks.  I will..."

The Peacock 446

 "It still is no walk in the park", says Francois.   "Police, especially white police, are especially problematic.

"We saw that quite recently here", says Carl.  "Father Francois, how do you cope with this bullshit?"

"I remind myself that it is bullshit, and nothing but bullshit.  I also try to find humour, even if it means making fun of the officer for being a bombastic ass."

"To their face you do that?" says Sarah.

"I even got one of them to laugh with me."

"Pray tell", says Carol.

"It happened in Montreal about four years ago.  I was on vacation from seminary so I was visiting my family.  So this white pig in a uniform wants to check my ID.  He was rather pathetic looking, overweight, probably too many donuts, and maybe around fifty.  Well, I had just been to the local Tim Horton's, speaking of donuts, and I was carrying a whole box of them with me.  So, I asked him if he could please hold my donuts for me while I searched for my wallet, and strangely, he complied.  So, with my biggest, brightest, shit-eatingest smile, I produced my ID, and after he had scanned everything, I offered him not just one donut, but as many donuts as he wanted.  Turns out that the chocolate are his favourites.  Then I said to him that, you know, officer, you have just accepted a bribe.  And with half a donut already sitting inside his mouth, he just burst out laughing.  I never got bothered again."

"An ordained, Roman Catholic priest", says Carol.  "Using that kind of language.."

The Peacock 445

"George raises a very significant point", says Aaron.

"I consider myself very fortunate", says Francois, "That slavery has never tainted my family or my ancestors."

"I would imagine", say I, "that this makes your experience quite difference from  American or Caribbean blacks."

"Oh, decidedly different", says Francois.

"You know", says Carl, "For that very same reason, I felt a little bit let down when Obama was elected president of the US."

"But wasn't he an American black?" says Carol.

"His father was a Kenyan goatherd", says Carl.  "And his mother is a white American "

"Shouldn't that be adequate?" Carol says.

Jenn says, "Not entirely.  I see Aaron's point.  Barack Obama doesn't have slavery in his genes.  So, any empathy he could express would have a certain limit."

"Plus", Says Jeffery, "He isn't even pure African, having a white mother."

"Optics", says Aaron.

"On top of everything else", says Sarah, asking rather, "He simply looks black enough to pass, and that should be good enough for everybody?" 

The Peacock 444

 "I don´t imagine that you have ever known or seen any ordained persons that look like me", says Francois.

"Oh, but I didn't mean that at all"

"Oh, yes you did, Carol", says Carl, and now Melissa is loudly shushing him to be quiet.

Carol, suddenly shoving her plate away from her, says "You know, you people, you never seem to be satisfied with the rest of us.  No matter what we say or do, no matter how we try to help, how we try not to offend, to be kind, tolerant, inclusive, or whatever the trendy words are nowadays,  none of it, none of it is good enough for you.  You are always going to find fault, criticize, rip apart.  Maybe", and now she stares up at Francois, seated almost across the table from her, glaring at him, "It is almost as if you don't even want us to exist, that you want us all, all white people to go away and die somewhere so that you can take over--"

"Carol!" snaps Carl, "That is truly enough!"

"No, let her speak", Francois says.  "We are all entitled to our day in court."

"Why do you hate us!"

"Carol", says Francois, his voice a bit hushed, "I don't hate you."

"Do you support Black Lives Matter?"

"But of course they matter.  All lives matter", says Francois.

"That is correct, Francois, or I mean, Father Francois", she says, pointing her finger at him, "All lives matter.  Right?  Not just black lives.  All lives."

"But that is already implied."

"But is it",

"Yes it is, we are all together in this, we are all one, we all bleed the same colour red, Blacks, Whites, indigenous, everybody."

George adds in, "Filipino, Chinese, Middle Eastern, Latino.  Everybody.  But the whites have always held the reins of power, so they particularly need to be reminded that all lives matter, and especially black lives because of that huge and ugly thing called slavery..."

"

The Peacock 443

.   "Carol", says Francois, suddenly toying with his fork with the leftover pannekoek on his plate, "Could you explain to me something, please"

"Why, of course, my dear."  As if we didn't already have enough for breakfast, Carl, has brought out two big chunks of cheese, an aged cheddar and smoked Gouda, and Carol is already whipping off a slice of the cheddar.  She  has just stuffed it into her mouth.

"Do you think of yourself as European?"

"What an absurd question", she says.  "Of course not.  I am British.  English, to be precise.

"Bullshit", says Carl, laughing, "Pure and unaltered John Tory Bullshit, Carol, you are every bit as European as Mel and I."

"I do beg to differ, young man."

"I had the same argument with a young Japanese guy back in seminary", says George.  "I referred to him as being Asian, like me, and he just wouldn't accept it."

"And where would you be from", Carol says

"I'm Canadian.  I was born in Vancouver."

"But your parents?"

"They're from the Philippines."

"Then that would make you Filipino", she says.

"Sorry, kiddo, I'm Canadian, every bit as Canadian as Aaron, as Sarah, as Jennifer, as Maureen and as my dear husband, Jeff.  And Father Francois."

"Father Francois!" says Carol.

"I also happen to be a priest", says Francois.

"Oh, I daresay", says Carol.

The Peacock 442

 "Francois", says Carol, between mouthfuls of fruit, "Have you ever been back to Africa?"

"I have never been in Africa", he replies calmly, pausing for a sip of coffee.  He appears to be finished with his breakfast, and has left a small chunk of pannekoek on his plate.

"But you are African"

"I am Canadian", he says.  "More precisely I am French-Canadian.  I am Quebecois."

"But you speak with an accent."

"And so do you."

"I do not speak with an accent.  I happen to be English."

"And you speak English with an English accent."

"There is no such thing.  In Canada, English is spoken with an accent."

Carl, struggling to smile", says, "Oh, Carol, just get over yourself will you?"

As though unaware that she has just been insulted, Carol says," This has to be one of the most wonderful pancakes I have ever eaten.  Lovely work, Jennifer." And she fills her face with rather a large helping of the remaining half of pannekoek languishing on her plate.