1931

Carl's  magic gold card does it again, and not even is Kenny permitted to pay his share.  The intense evening sunlight paints a subtle gold cast over the surrounding forest.  Everyone has resumed their usual seats, Kenny on the right and Erik on the left behind me and Carl.  Suddenly this slips out of my mouth, "Kenny, you know more, a lot more than you were letting on at the diner." "I don't know whether or not I should dignify that with a reply." "You just did", quips Carl. "Out with it", i command. "I didn't want them to know." "Tommy and Carey?" say I.  "Okay.  Fair enough." "How much do you remember?" says Carl. "A lot more than I am about to say." "So you were faking the amnesia." "Not entirely." "Not entirely." "Carl, listen, I actually was in a brain fog till we arrived at the diner." "And what pulled you out of it?" "The conversation.  Look, usually after I've been there the amnesia is total, and also for Amaris, and we have to spend hours together before we can coax each other into remembering, and that is also just when we are ready to return.  But there's something else at play. It completely messes with our sense of time.  You guys are already aware of this phenomenon.

1934

So, what I am hearing", says Erik, "Is that this Refuge, is really a place of dreams  Or collective dreams." "Except we were all actually there", says Carl, "Including you.  But you're right, we all seem to be remembering and experiencing it as a dream." And I interject, "Neither did we lose one single second of real time for having been there... There is someone standing on the road just ahead, holding out his arms as though to halt us.  There is a shining brilliance of gold and emerald green, and, it is..Tron?".  We screech to a sudden stop on the side of the road and he walks calmly and majestically towards my car.

1930

"Back then", says Carl, "I also knew a professional dominatrix", and he adds wistfully, "She was a tranny." "She was a transwoman", corrects Carey. "Yeah she was that too", he says, not quite pokers-face. "Stella was actually a hermaphrodite. Kenny, you only met Stella yesterday." "Did I?" and the awkward pause says we had better not venture any further. "She was at Jesus' mansion yesterday", says Erik whose shin I am immediately kicking under the table. "Ow",, you don't have to kick me ", he whines, spearing a couple of French fries with his fork. "My foot must have slipped", and I cannot conceal the grin that must be creeping across my face right now. "Yesterday", says Kenny very patiently, "I was in Duncan, being woken at five by a phone call from Amaris. We drove in her car to the ferry and now here we are." And naturally, Kenny, now having no memory of where we were yesterday and overnight, seems completely unaware of how slackjawed we are right now.

1933

"Wait a minute", says Carl, "What was she doing there at five am. How did she get there?" "She said she spent the night at a friend's nearby, but didn't go into detail, and when Amaris tells me something in that tone, I know not to probe." "So, we took the first ferry to Tsawwassen, then drove into vancouver, parked the car and walked around for a while." "How did you find us?" say I. "We weren't looking for you, but we wanted to stop for coffee, so we wandered into this place where you guys happened to be sitting, and we both remembered the dreams and seeing you all dressed exactly the way you were and the conversation you and I had, Chris, but then Amaris felt called to her parents' home in Richmond, and now, just in the last few minutes I have pulled out of the amnesia."

The Peacock 1929

"Did you used to perform in drag?" wonders Carey. "I was a hooker." "You mean sex worker." "I mean hooker." "Here we go again", mutters Carl to me from his side of the table. "That word is offensive", says Carey primly. "Not to me it ain't." Carl jumps in. "Kenny is right. I was never a sex worker either. I was a hooker. Or ho. On the canals of Amsterdam", and he pauses for effect, "When I was a teenager." "You're a retired rent boy", says Kenny. "You bet I am." "So you both used to do sex work", says Carey. "We were not sex workers", says Kenny patiently, "We were prostitutes. I worked as a gal, Carl worked as a boy. But we were not sex workers, we were both hookers", he concludes, raising his voice a little for emphasis. "Well", if you don't mind", says Carey, her lovely face embellished by a very wide and very fake smile, "I have some paperwork to do." "No you do not", enunciates Tommy, blocking his lovely wife with his arm. "I already did it, and you, dear wife, are not going anywhere." "You can sure say that again", she grumbles with a beautiful pout.

1928

To Kenny, who is seated to my left, I whisper, "How much should I tell them?" "Never mind.  I'll handle it."  To Carey and Tommy he says, "I entrusted my journal to Chris many years ago, during a lengthy absence, and with my full permission he has shared the contents with Carl, and, who is that black fellow, the priest?" "Ex-priest", says Carl. "You mean Francois." "Why is he an es-priest, he is so young.." "He will tell you soon enough", say I.  "If you're good", prompts Carl." "But when I'm bad", says Kenny in the purest Mae West purr I have ever heard, "I'm better." "Have you ever done drag before?" says Carey, all wide eyed, "Darling", says Ken now in purest Cassandra, "Where would you like me to begin?"

The Peacock 1927

We're all gorphing down burgers and fries because Carlos is off today, and according to Tommy who with his wife has joined us at our booth, only his uncle really knows how to cook Cantonese, or Cantonese with a good dose of Venezuelan. "This is one of the best burgers I have ever eaten", says Kenny, who like me has opted for the veggie burger smothered with blue cheese. "So, what did you do with your other burgers?" says Carl with a grin. "Don't listen to him", say I. "No one does anyway, so I'm used to it." "Oh listen to it", I am laughing as I gesture with my fingers that right under my chin I am playing the world's tiniest violin. "Yep, says Carl, "I know where to find sympathy." Says Kenny.  "Under S .. Between shit and syphilis." Now we are all laughing heartily as Carl mutters, looking at me then at Kenny, "Where did you two find each other anyway?" "Oh, under a rock somewhere, says Kenny, still laughing then with both hands taking a huge bite from his burger. "And we have read your journal", say I. "You guys read his journal!" says Carey, evidently shocked.