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..."

The Peacock 1223

 "Oh aren't we off to a cheery start this morning", chimes Carl.

"Give it a rest, eh?" says Francois.

"Yes, Carl.  please", say I.

"Oh what a couple of party poopers.  But I suppose you do have a point.  That was a rather dramatic episode we all witnessed last night."

"The thing is, with Lindstrom around, now I'm really worried about Erik", say I.

"Yes there is that.  But he is in police custody and they will soon be flying him home to the Swedish forensic specialists."

"Remember Aaron's warning last night", says Francois.  "That guy has more than a few aces up his sleeves."

"Actually, I think this guy's hilarious", says Carl.  "I mean, a supernatural being whose been around for hundreds, maybe thousands of years, and he cannot get anything right, and plus finds himself in the loony bin", says Carl.

"Point taken", say I, savouring the dark aromatic bitterness of my first cup of the morning...

The Peacock 1222

 "You're not going to tell me where you got it?" says Francois.

"It was a gift."

"Yeah, but from who?"

The coffee maker is now sputtering the last of its forces into the pot, and the dark brew already fills the glass container like a dread presence.  Instead of replying, I spring up and grab us each a mug and begin pouring.  Now that I have returned to the table, Francois seems to have given up the chase.  Or perhaps, as a form of bargaining, or perhaps blackmail, I could ask him first to tell me why he had to change his pyjamas last night.  He doesn't seem ready to budge, and that works for me.  Now Carl has appeared, his lithe and muscular body enhanced and gleaming in but a skimpy pair of tight red bikini briefs that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.  "Good morning", he chimes, and yes he is again up for play and mischief.

As he pours himself coffee, Francois grumbles, "Um, is your bathrobe in the laundry?"

"I didn't bring one."

"I could lend you one of my dad's robes?" say I.

"Oh, must we?" he says while stirring sugar and cream into his mug.

"Yes, we must", says Francois.

Dad left behind three robes in the bedroom closet.  This dark green velour number would look striking on Carl.  In fact, I also like his dark blue terry cloth number.  Always have, and although I am relatively decent in jogging shorts and white T shirt, I think I will.

"Here you are", I tell Carl back in the kitchen, and with affected petulance, he reaches to accept the green robe, and wraps himself in it.

To Francios he says, "Did you just change your pyjamas, Francois?"

"I don't know", he mutters, now clearly in an ill humour.  "Maybe."

"And who were you dreaming about?"

"None of your business!" he snaps.

The Peacock 1221

 I struggle to discipline my imagination against treading uncharted and unwelcome waters concerning François changing from his white pyjamas to the navy blue ones during the night.  Better not to go there, despite my temptation to ask.  Instead, here is the sprig of lemon balm, gift from the kid last night, and now Francois appears curious.

"Where did that plant come from?" And now it occurs to me that neither he nor George or Jeffrey actually saw the kid, just Carl and I.

"Carl says it's lemon balm."

"Yes, but how did it get here?"

I just shrug. I don't think I ought to mention the kid to him, or not just yet anyway, and I really don't know why.  But it feels as though there is an invisible hand covering my mouth.  "The leaves smell like lemon.  Want to check it out?"

"No thanks."  I bring the glass of water with the sprig over to the table anyway and we sit there together while the coffee sputters its way into the empty pot.

"Something strange about that plant", he says.

And looking at it myself, I see that he has a point.  The leaves appear to be almost glowing.  "I'm going to pot it today, then maybe later plant it outside..."

The Peacock 1220

 "Did you eventually make it to bed", says Francois sitting down at the table.  I am going to make a full pot, just in case there are others soon to join us.

"Yes, shortly after you guys.  Who cleaned up last night?"

"I did.  I kept waking up, so I thought I should do something.  Hope I was quiet"

"You were.  I didn't hear you anyway, but I was also sleeping fitfully."

"I suppose that wasn't a dream then."

"What exactly?"

"The kerfuffle with that  Swedish guy and the police outside.  Then later when we were having our midnight snack, that visit from Aaron."

"Thank you", say I.  I am scooping in generous portions of decaf, in case people want to go back to sleep for a while.

"For what?"

"I was beginning to think I was hallucinating again."

"You're okay."

"Weren't you wearing white pyjamas last night."

"I was."  And the terseness of his tone suggests we should change the subject...

The Peacock 1219

 Funny, I don't recall anyone cleaning up after our snack last night.  The sink and counter are pristine clean and clear.  I imagine that today I should get key copies made, but right now I am remembering that dad used to keep extra keys in the second kitchen drawer here.  Yes, here they are and among the other household detritus that gets eternally stranded in second kitchen drawers I am counting four copies.  One for the couple, one each for Carl and Francois, and one for Jesús when he gets here.  If George or Jeffrey want their own they can get their own copy made as far as I'm concerned.  Not sure how much coffee to make, since there is no way of knowing when people are going to get up.

"Are you making coffee?" says Francois from the doorway.  He is just out of bed, sleepy eyed and wearing navy blue pyjamas.  Not white.  and now I am really beginning to wonder what happened last night...

The Peacock 1218

 It's five am, and I have slept perhaps a little since going to bed.  I really did have a full sleep on the couch, protected from all the hubbub and excitement.  It's just as well, with that dream about Lindstrom breaking into the house, then the kid Jesus turning the water into wine.  I think George and Jeffrey brought with them some of the mystical madness from the mansion, since things were fairly calm here before their arrival.  But it is good to have them here, if rather strange.  I have never been friends before with a same sex couple, much less when they happen to be two catholic priests.  Well, excommunicated Catholic priests I would now imagine. This house is getting crowded, and this morning arrives Jesús.  I am looking forward to his arrival...

The Peacock 12i7

 "Anything else about Lindstrom?" asks Francois.

"As I said, responds Aaron, just after shoving the cheese into his mouth and swallowing it, "Your guess is as good as mine.  But be aware of the loopholes.  He has many friends in dark places that are manipulating him into performing their bidding.  I also have a feeling you will be seeing him again, soon.  I think the lemon balm just given you by Our Lord holds some secret virtue or power.  Also be prepared for another meeting with him."

"Can we meet for coffee sometime?" ask I.

"We are living in different dimensions and different times.  Right now where I am it is more than two and a half years later.  Russia has been at war with Ukraine for almost two years, Israel has been bombing the bejesus out of Gaza for the last three months, and our various levels of government are still dragging their asses about addressing homelessness.  Pay very close attention to Chuck in the coming weeks.  Oh, and by the way, I have moved, after twenty-one years in a little subsidized bachelor apartment on Granville and Davie.  Now I am at tThirty-seventh and Main near little Mountain in a subsidized one bedroom suite.  It is just lovely.  And now, for the final time, my friends, or at least till I drop in again, and I will from time to time,  ta-ta..."

The Peacock 1216

 He could have stayed a bit longer", says Carl.  I want to pick his brain."

"About..." says Francois.

"About us.  About what he plans on writing us into next."

"Your guess is as good as mine."  Aaron has suddenly reappeared.

"What's this business about a teenage Jesus", say I.

"Your guess is as good as mine.  That's how this thing is being written.  I am but your humble scribe."

"So, you're just recording all this", says Francois.

"I believe it is what is often mistakenly called the creative imagination.  Except, I am not making any of this up.  Simply, I enter a place and you people happen to be living there.  I know as much as you do about what's going to happen tomorrow."

"What about Lindstrom?" says Carl.

"What I know so far about this unfortunate being has only been gradually unfolding to me.  I do believe he is a descendent of the so called Nephilim, and that he himself is very old, centuries old at least.  but he is still part mortal, and for this reason he still possesses, or is possessed by a soul that can be redeemed.  He is also incredibly stupid and inept.  He had his chance on the island and he blew it, plus, he is still vulnerable to dark forces and that is why he does such outlandishly stupid stunts as what he tried to pull off here a few hours ago.  And that is also why he lives with a mental illness.  From what I know so far is he is going to be shipped back to Sweden, absconded by the authorities and placed under very tightly supervised forensic care for a while.  But we are still not done with him yet I'm afraid.  That Lindstrom guy has more loopholes at his disposal than a highly experienced lawyer.  Anyway it is my bedtime, as I said, though one day later.  Mind if I have another piece of cheese before I turn in?"

"By all means, help yourself", say I...

The Peacock 1215

 "This is good", says Carl.  "Who would ever have thought of combining extra old cheddar with honey.  But it works."

"I got the idea from Aaron.  The day after I arrived at the mansion, after breakfast he mentioned it, and courtesy of your sister, we all gave it a try.  It was very good."

"Speaking of whom, he appears to have disappeared", says Carl.  "But I imagine he s still writing us from wherever he is."

And suddenly, Aaron appears at the table, occupying the one empty chair.  "Excuse me for popping in unannounced like this", he says laughing.

"Sh", say I, "you'll wake the others."

"They won't even know that I'm here", he says, pointedly lowering his voice.

"And where the hell have you been", says Carl.

"I've been here and I've been there, and I've been in-between."  Aaron slices a generous piece of cheddar, dollops some honey on it, eats it in almost one mouthful, then says, "Well, lovely seeing you all, now it's near my bedtime so I must be off.  Ta-ta".  And now he is gone...

The Peacock 1214

 "I'll put it in a glass of water and tomorrow I will grab one of Dad's flower pots from the basement and some dirt from the garden and plant it."  There is something almost preternaturally vigorous about this leafy stem.  The leaves appear so full, shiny and healthy. I am sure there must be a higher purpose in this gift.  "shall we join Francois in the kitchen?  I really must get up off this couch.  how long have I been sleeping?"

"I would say at least six hours."

"No wonder I'm feeling so rested.  I just might stay up for the rest of the day."

Keeping our voices low in whispers so as not to awaken our houseguests, we dig into the little feast  Francois has prepared: whole wheat toast, a jar of honey and a block of cheese.

"Did Carl tell you about what happened outside?"

"He even dreamed about it", says Carl.

"No way."

"It was Lindstrom", say I.  "Hhe actually forced his way inside and tried to conduct a search for Erik, but the police nabbed him just in time.  Then the kid came in."

"Kid?"

"It seems only I saw him.  He brought this sprig of lemon balm and asked that I give it to Chris.

"Who do you think it was"

"Well, in the dream, anyway, I saw him turn a pitcher of water into wine.  So, who do you think it was?"

"Well", says Francois, "There is no water nearby for him to walk on, so I imagine he wanted to do something to identify himself...

The Peacock 1213

 He also brought you something."

"Me?"

Carl reaches to the coffee table and hands me a sprig of leaves.  He places it in my hand.  Just then, Francois has just come downstairs.  He is resplendent in white pyjamas, his ebony skin creating the most incredible and beautiful contrast.

"We didn't wake you up, I hope", says Carl.

"No, I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep.  Came down for a snack.  You guys want some toast and honey?"

"Nothing would please me more", says Carl.  "Chris?"

"Sure,  Can we have some cheese with that?"

"Cheddar or Jarlsberg?"

"Cheddar."

"Me too", says Carl.  "Can I help?"

"Stay where you are", says Francois.

"What is this?"

Rub the leaf gently and smell it."

"It's lemony.

"It's called lemon balm.  A healing herb.  He said to take care of it and later he will return to retrieve it from you..."

The Peacock 1212

 "What kind of drama?"

"There was this guy out on the sidewalk being arrested  and taken into custody by four cops."

"Was one of them Asian?"

"Yes.  I believe so.  Young."

"I saw him in the dream.  How about the guy being arrested."

"Tall.  Blonde.  Athletic looking."

"Blonde.  Beast.  Danger."

"Yes, from the Scrabble game."

"Lindstrom."

"He was trying to get in here."

"He must have flown out here just after he knew Erik was gone.  I can't imagine why they would want him so much.  The police took him away?"

"It appears they did."

"I'm relieved.  Erik will be safe, for a while anyway.  They are likely to deport Lindstrom right back to Sweden where he will face criminal charges, and possibly another round of forensic hospitalization."

"Something else strange happened.  Just after."

"Tell me."

"This kid appeared out of nowhere."

"What did he look like."

"No more than sixteen, maybe seventeen.  Very beautiful boy with curly blonde hair."

"How was he dressed."

"White shirt, and blue jeans, I think."

"Sandals?"

"Can't remember.  But they were still bundling Lindstrom into the car when the kid approached the house, he was walking across the front lawn to the door.  As I said, he was incredibly beautiful and I felt totally smitten in his presence."

"Did the others see hm?"

"No, just me."

"I saw him in the dream.  he turned water into wine."

"Jesus."

"Our Lord indeed..."

The Peacock 1211

 A hand is roughly shaking me by the shoulder.  As my eyes open, it is almost completely dark, save for a small light on the lower wall near the floor.  My father had some of those lights installed ten years ago, to make it easy to find his way to the bathroom for a midnight pee, or the kitchen for a midnight snack.  I see the darkened form of Carl´s rather anxious face hovering above me.  "Are you okay?" he says.

"I don't know."

"You were having a nightmare.  I heard you calling out."  I am fully clothed and lying on the couch.

"What time is it?"

"Almost two.  It seems you never made it to bed."  He plunks himself down at my feet, which I instinctively budge away to make room for him.

"I was dreaming."

"Yes, you were dreaming."

"Lindstrom came pounding at the front door, then barged his way in to look for Erik.  We couldn't stop him, but the police came immediately after.  They were chasing him from the airport for evading customs and the mandatory quarantine."

"That explains it", he says.

"Explains what?"

"The drama that was unfolding outside the house on the sidewalk.  You had fallen fast asleep and nothing seemed able to wake you."

"And I missed it."

"You dreamed it..."

The Peacock 1210

 As the cop car leaves the driveway with Lindstrom in the back seat I stand before the boy who looks at me, an innocent smile adorning his face.  The kid is downright angelic.  How could I refuse him.  "Would you like to come in?"

"That is very kind of you"" says the boy.  His voice is light and gentle, just past the cusp of changing.  

He sits in the left armchair.  I am on the couch, flanked by Carl and Francois.  Jeffrey is in the other armchair, and George has pulled up a chair from the dining room table next to him.

"How can we help you?" say I.

"Would you like something to drink?" says Carl.  "Water, juice, coffee?"

"Water", says the boy.  "I am rather thirsty."  As Carl heads for the kitchen, the boy adds, "Could you possibly bring me an entire pitcher of water?"

"I could do that", replies Carl.

"How can we help you?" I repeat to the boy, who doesn't answer, or doesn't answer yet.  He has curly, dark golden hair, and moss green eyes set in a lightly tanned face, a face that has absolutely no flaws or defects.  He is dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, his feet are wearing very simple sandals, no socks.  There is something very familiar about him.  I am sure I have known him before.

Carl returns with a glass jug full of water, and a glass.

"Bring more glasses", says the boy.

"More glasses?" says Carl.

"Yes.  more glasses."and suddenly the water has turned the colour red.  The water has been transformed into wine...

The Peacock 1209

 We all stay seated as a nameless terror seems to unify us in its grip.  Again the knocking, loud, rapid, furious.  Reluctantly I go over to the door.  There is no peephole, so I have to trust that I will survive this.  A tall man with short blonde hair, almost ridiculously handsome looms before me.  "Where is he?" he mutters coldly.

"Where is who?"  he shoves me aside and enters the house.

"Hey! no one said you can come in here", I shout, but it is too late.  He is furiously going from room to room, and now Carl is at my side.

"We have to stop him."  We corner him in my father's bedroom.  He shoves us both apart with what appears to be superhuman strength.  He goes in the other rooms, then upstairs, and all of us, Carl, Francois, George and Jeffrey all stand in the hallway, huddled together for protection and support.

"Who the fuck is that!" says Francois.

"Lindstrom", say I.

He must have flown straight over from Sweden."

Lindstrom is downstairs again demanding to know where the basement is, and there is another knock on the door, this time four cops, who charge in past me to overpower him.  They have him on his knees, in cuffs.  One of them, a young Asian guy, says to me, "We've been trailing him from the airport.  He tried to evade customs and quarantine. " I notice that they are all wearing covid masks... Then through the open door, a boy, likely no older than sixteen or seventeen, is approaching the house.  They have just dragged Lindstrom outside....

The Peacock 1208

 BLONDE.  BEAST-  DANGER

Where did these just come from?" says George.  

"Blonde came from Carl, Beast came from Francois", sys I, "And you have yourselves to thank for Danger"

"What can this all mean?" wonders jeffrey."

"It means that we have practically run out of tiles", quips Francois.

"Game over", says Carl.

I am just about to sweep the tiles off the board when George waves a preventing hand at me and takes out his phone.  "I want some time to study this", he says.

Suddenly, there are three loud knocks on the front door...

The Peacock 1207

 "And" says Jeffrey, pulling out and setting three more tiles, "We all are needing to HEAL."

"Is this a Scrabble game or is it a Ouija board?" says George.

"It appears to be a little bit of both", says Jeffrey.

"I was hoping we might have left this kind of weirdness behind us."

"We appear to have taken it with us."

"I find vacant space next to the e in HEAl, so I add the two tiles N and D.

"Shall we bring this to an end?" say I?

"I don't think it's over", says carl.

"what do you mean?" say I.  And he adds to the N tiles that form the word RENEW.

"You got a double word score for that one", says Francois.

"Yeah, but who's counting?"

The Peacock 1205

 Francois adds some letters to form the word create.  "And now I get the first triple word score", he crows.

"I never noticed that anyone was keeping score", says Carl.

"who is keeping score?" say I.

"We never really agreed on that", says Carl.

"well, I want credit for my triple word score", says Francois.

"You're a little bit late, dontcha think, Frankie?" says George.

"Francois", he snaps.

"Sorry.  Francois."

"Let's focus on create", says Carl, who uses the a in create to make the word small."

"So we need to start small", say I...

The Peacock 1204

 How about an ode to love?" say I.

"Anything to redeem this verbal mess", mutters Francois.

"Where did those words all come from?"

"From out of our own sick unredeemed collective unconscious", says Carl

"So here we have  cringe, gross

slut, ugly, yikes, kill, then knit, followed by love, and finally ode."

"We need another word", says Jeffrey, and George fastens the c tile onto ode.  Code

The Peacock 1203

 Carl opens the game by spelling out the word cringe.  "How's that for a start?" he says.

George adds letters to the g, spelling out gross.

I have just spelled out slut on the final s.

To the u Francois creates ugly.

I, K, E, S, spell out yikes, as Carl transforms the Y.

Jeffrey creates kill.

I make the word knit.

"So", says Francois, "we have to knit all the words together.  Doesn't look good."   The letters he adds to the last l in kill make love.

And I spell out ode.

The Peacock 1202

 "Who wants to play Scrabble", say I.

"There's five of us", says Francois, "One two many."

"It's actually our fave", says Jeffrey.  "George and I could team up.  What do you say, Georgie?"

"Are the rest of you chill about it?"

"It's only a game", says Carl.

It is hidden away in my father's den, on the very top shelf of the closet. There are a few dusty surprises in here.  I see three different jigsaw puzzles, never opened, one of Monet's Wáter Lilies, another of an extremely tangled and vibrant garden, and one of a dragon curled up in his lair of gold.  I believe I must have picked that one when I was twelve, just after reading the Hobbit.  On a whim I am carrying this one out with the Scrabble.

The Peacock 1201

 But I for one cannot keep my mouth shut.  The beast of royalty has come alive in me, like a sleeping dragon roused from its torpor, and now I cannot stop.  "I read the memoir of Prince Charles' butler, and among other things he wrote that one night at 11:30, his boss telephoned him to get out of bed, get dressed and come immediately to the palace to help take care of an emergency."

"And the emergency was...", says Carl.

"Charles had mistakenly tossed a note written to him on a piece of paper by his mother, the Queen, into the waste paper basket, and he wanted his servant to come over and fish it out for him immediately."

"Did he have back problems?" asks Jeffrey.

"iIimagine that his butler might have after having to bend over and pull the note out of the garbage can", says George.

"I wonder if he has servants who  wipe his ass for him every time he takes a dump", says Carl.

And here I am reminded of a particularly disturbing scene from a TV miniseries I saw with my dad about King Henry VIII, played by an actor way too slim and good looking, where he was naked and masturbating in front of a male servant kneeling before him ready to catch his spunk in a towel or a bowl, and all his courtiers standing by the door watching.  This is really too gross to tell anyone right now, plus I do not wish to further encourage Carl, or George, who is clearly his match, much less offend Francois.  I do recall that during that scene, my father decided it was time to go to the kitchen to get us some cheese and crackers for snacks...

The Peacock 1200

 "Or the rest of that incestuous brood", says Francois flatly.  "You know as a second generation, almost first generation Canadian, especially having grown up in Quebec, I am completely mystified about the obsession and obsessive affection so many Anglo-Canadians still seem to hold for that institution.  I mean, it is just wrong on so many levels.  First of all, they have no business in this country, given that Canada is no longer a British entity and thanks to New France, never was actually.  But there is this whole question of colonialism and of how illegally the British Crown expropriated land belonging to the First Nations, who by UN charter, are entitled to have every square metre of that land returned to them.  And there is also the nonsense of the Governor General, since Canada is a completely sovereign nation and has, or should have, absolutely no need for this kind of foreign meddling, even  if it is strictly symbolic  I could go on..."

"But there is no need to", says Carl.  "I agree with you one hundred percent."

"As do I", says George.

"But we would be so much poorer without the monarchy", says Jeffrey. "Think of all that they bring to us."

"Rather, think of all they have taken", says George.

"Oh, don't start again."

"I'll shut my hole if you shut yours, honey."

"Deal."

The Peacock 1199

 "Especially after the way he treated poor Princess Diana." says Jeffrey, becoming just a bit too cloyingly upper class British twit for my stomach.

"Especially the way he dumped a dish like her for Camilla", says Carl.

"Ugh! The Royal Horseface", moans George.  "And to think that trashy old bitch will one day be the  queen."

"Which is to say", says Carl, "If his mummy doesn't end up outliving hm.  She's, what, ninety-five now, and still doing her job?"

"She's getting pretty frail now especially with the death of Philip last month, and he was just a month or two shy of turning one hundred", say I, my usually dormant interest in the British monarchy now starting to stir awake.

Says Carl, "So do you know what Elizabeth said to Philip on their wedding night?"

"What", says François.

"Mount, Batten."

"Oh, please help me to unthink that!" groans George.

"No more disgusting or less disgusting a visual than the Royal Tampax", quips Carl.

The Peacock 1198

 "Look. you guys both have first pick of my condo if you happen to like it.  No one will track you down there."

"Except for Erik's sister and her creepy alien boyfriend", says George.

"It isn't you they're after."

"I don't much fancy the idea of living downtown", says Jeffrey, really piling on his British upper class schoolboy charm, then he yawns and stretches languidly, "I have come to rather prefer life in the country."

"Have you guys talked bout turning Anglican", says François.

"From pope Francis, to pope Lizzy", says George, "I really don't think so."

"That is actually why my parents converted to the Catholic faith before we immigrated from the UK", says Jeffrey.  "Dad couldn't stomach being in a church headed by British monarchy."

"Especially with Charly taking over once Lizzy croaks", says George.

"Wait a minute", says Carl, "Didn't he once tell Camilla that he wanted to be her own personal Tampax?"

"Exactly", says George.  "Who in their right mind would want to join a church headed by that?"

1197

 "What is ir?" says Carl when I emerge into the living room.  Francois has ceded space for George on the couch and Carl and Jeffrey both occupy the armchairs.

"Greta has tracked him.  She just sent him a threatening text."

"What's he going to do?"

"I told him to get rid of his phone, and in the meantime to not accept any more calls or texts that are not from me."

"Then what."

" I told him I'd buy him a new phone tomorrow:"

"We can do that together.  I have to go out there tomorrow anyway to see my mom."

"Thanks.  That would be a great help."

"What's this all about?" says Jeffrey.

"It's kind of long and complicated.  But there's this guy my ex wife is living with in Sweden and they're involved in some kind of nefarious network in which they are trying to implicate Erik, her brother.  That is why he came here to stay with me, to try to escape from them."

"Won't this be putting you, and by extension, us, in danger?" says George.  "I mean, haven't we already had enough of this kind of drama?"

"And you guys came to us, expecting a boring and normal life", says Francois.  "Oh,  you are just too funny!"