The Peacock 383

 "He was really a defiant kid, I think just about to turn twenty", Rhona said, "When he left us.  He hated his dad, and I think he went over to the other side just to put distance between them.  We didn't really have contact with the outside world, and for a kid like that it must have been a horrible existence."  This is news to me, but Lydia and I only came in recently, and we never were a part of this group.  Rhona herself, arrived six months ahead of us, and not willingly.  "hilip used to send out agents into the general community, hunting down new recruits, especially nubile young women.  They would arrive drugged, in most cases, and then the brainwashing would begin.  And that is where Rhona came in.  She became one of the recruiting agents, and she would go off to Vancouver and scout round in bars and private parties and get togethers to see who she could lure back with her, always picking vulnerable, eccentric and creative types.  She embraced her role eagerly, partly to keep her connected with the outside world, but also to look for some occasion to escape, which would be difficult, since she was also being closely watched.    "With the two of you", she said to Lydia and me, I thought I might have a chance to get out."  She thought we would be stronger than the others, and so she played a kind of double agent.

In the meantime, all they did was gather together and chant, and chant, and chant some more.  No one bothered to clean or repair or maintain anything.  They were getting ready to meet the elders in a parallel dimension...  

The Peacock 382

 Not only is the body gone.  The whole interior of the cabin has been thoroughly cleaned, top to bottom.  no blood, no flies, and a lingering odour of bleach.  We are of course, all of us completely perplexed.  We sat on the stoop of the porch of the cabin, since there appeared to be room enough for all four of us to sit down and take a load off, plus, the place was cool and shady.  No one said anything, we just sat there feeling both relieved and defeated.  Still there were no birds singing, but I could hear a raven calling from a distance.  Then two ravens, as though holding a conversation.

It was Rhona who gave the call, and we got up and returned the the mansion.  No one exchanged so much as a word on the way back.  After lunch, we all sat out on the verandah.  There wasn't any work to do and we really wanted to stick together for mutual support.  It was Lydia who asked Rhona about the deceased.

Oh, yes, Russell, she said.  He escaped from our group last year and fell in the hands of a rival cult, one that is particularly evil and demonic.  There had been an ongoing quiet war between groups.  The group, I think, really wanted this house, and so would wage little acts of terror and vandalism against the place in the hopes they could drive us out.  In a way, they won.

Russell, you see, was Philip, our leader's son...

The Peacock 381

 June 14

Rhona appears to be better today.  She agreed to join us, because we were all going back to the cabin to at least give the body a burial.  And she wanted also to give a sure identification.  We are well aware that we could be implicating ourselves even further, since who is going to believe us if we try to convince them that Philip and more than twenty of his disciples went bye bye into a different universe.  We would be charged with perjury at best, and at worst sentenced to hang.

Aaron interpolates "They still had capital punishment in Canada, it was only abolished in 1976."  Jesús resumes translating...

As we preceded again along the trail that extends beyond the property, we were all again hit by a sense of something being out of whack, as though we were penetrating a stale and vile smelling fog.  We each carried a shovel, even Rhona, despite being not quite recovered from her miscarriage.  We were all quiet, solemn.  Speaking just seemed inappropriate at such a time.  Rhona so far had said nothing about the deceased, and I imagine that Lydia and Theo, like me, were just too scared to ask her.

We found our way to the clearing.  Again all the birds were silent, very odd this being the middle of June, but there is some kind of dark and scary magic here in this place.  Together we approached the cabin.  This time it was I who opened the door, not slowly and timidly, but in one great swoop.  There was no body present...

The Peacock 380

 I caught the odour just as Lydia was pulling the door shut. Not yet strong, but unmistakable.  I walked up to the door, opened it myself.  There was a body lying prone on the floor, a man in his twenties, fair haired and naked.  His throat had been slashed and there was blood everywhere.  

On the way back, while supporting one another, we tried to draw up a plan.  We really did not want the police coming around again, given that we are already under suspicion for the disappearance of Philip and his loyal followers.  We also didn't want to come to a decision without hearing first from Rhona.  

When we returned to the house she wasn't feeling well. She complained of abdominal cramps and appeared to be running a low fever. She simply quipped that at least she no longer had to worry about how to end the pregnancy.  Mother Nature had already taken full charge of the situation.  Fortunately it was so early and she had lost only a little blood.  The cramps were already subsiding, she said, and all she wanted was to have something light for dinner then go to bed early.     

She could tell that something wasn't right with us, and after dinner we told her about the body.  She didn't seem at all surprised, went thoughtful and quiet, then said, "I know who it is."

"The body?" asked Theo.

"That was Russell", was all she said.  Then she excused herself and went up to bed...

The Peacock 379

 June 13

Today, we left Rhona alone at the house for the three of us to go exploring together off property.  We really wanted her to come, but she says that the morning sickness has been getting really bad.  Lydia seems particularly worried about her.  The path that leads away from the  magnolia I recently planted goes to the end of the property, where there is a barbwire fence.  But there is a small entrance to another path that seems to go on forever.  So, we set out to explore it.  There appear to be several tributary paths that run all through the woods, but none of us is brave enough to become bear meat.

This whole area has a very strange kind of presence.  I don't know what to call it, but we were all getting a bit nervous and irritable during our walk.  After a short while the forest became strangely silent, as though all the birds had gone to sleep.  It wasn't long before we came out on a clearing, rather like a meadow.  There is a shack out in the middle.  More of a cabin.  Very old and rustic looking, but not exactly dilapidated.  It would almost appear that someone might even live there.  Part time, I would imagine.

We approached the cabin.  The door was closed.  Lydia went over and knocked. There was no answer.  she tried the door.  It pushed open with a sonorous creak.  She looked in, then yelled out, "Oh my God", then quickly pulled the door shut... 

The Peacock 378

 June 12

Rhona wants to end the pregnancy.  But options seem very limited.   The nearest hospital is in Mission, and there are all kinds of hoops for her to jump through to get the procedure approved.  And even then there's no guarantee.  Her other option would be to have the kid and put it up for adoption.  She doesn't want to do that.  She says she had an aunt who gave up an infant son for adoption.  She was just eighteen, and the family did their very best to hide her away, since back in those days there was so much shame associated with it.   She said that the worst part for  her aunt, was not knowing what happened to her child, with whom she already bonded during birth.  She ended up living through a series of mental breakdowns and suicide attempts.  She died young, from lung cancer.  Rhona is sure that having the kid and losing it shortened her lifespan.  

Lydia and I have both done something brave.  We have offered, if she does end up having the kid, to help her raise it.  She simply shrugs it off.  She just wants to get rid of it.  She seems really beside herself.  Theo and I are starting to drive into town more.  Of course the girls are welcome, but they don't seem to want to just yet.  Something about being Philip's slaves, or purported slaves, or almost slaves, since Lydia and Rhona both put up a noble resistance, but this seems to have chained them both to the house and property.  Theo and I really want to see them break free.  I like Theo.  He has become a true buddy.

But when we were in town last, we bought a radio, and a couple of newspapers and magazines.  Time to let the evil world back into our cloistered and sheltered little lives here.

The Peacock 451

 That's a nice name.  Is it Dutch?"

"Scandinavian.  It means Divinely Beautiful."

"Sounds like quite an act to live up to."

"Mom does it remarkably well.  You'll understand when you meet her."

"What does Melissa mean?"

"Honeybee."

"Hm...makes sense."

"Because I have a wicked stinger?" she says, deadpan.

"Because you're always busy."

"Only because Carl is such a slacker."

"Hey, did you hear the one about the constipated slacker?"

"No, and I'm not going to.   Tell it to my brother."

"Your brother told me the joke."

"Not surprised in the least.  Okay, what about the constipated slacker?"

"He couldn't give a shit."

"That is Carl", she is completely without expression, "Many times over."

The Peacock 377

 June 11.  Rhona just announced at dinner that she is pregnant.  She says that she missed her period over three weeks ago, and that the child could only be Philip's.  We are of course all worried about her.  and now we understand why she has been so shy and withdrawn.  She actually burst out crying when she told us the news.  Funny.  She is so strong and cool, I could never have imagined her crying about anything.  nor getting accidentally pregnant.  But I'm not going to blame her.  She had that pig Philip to manage and now he is no longer present to accept paternal obligations.  Lydia stayed close to her for the evening.  There is no TV here, but they have a very good and huge library that takes up three rooms, so there is always something interesting to read.  So, we are having reading parties after dinner.  Somehow Rhona got hold of a novel by a dead British woman, Virginia Woolf is her name, I think.  It's called the Waves.  Boring.  Way too much detail about a group of privileged upper class children breeding neurosis.  But even if my English comprehension is still a bit uncertain, the sound of her writing is nice, lovely even, like wind in summer leaves and the waves lapping gently on the shore...

The Peacock 376

 June 10, 1966

We always seem to be working here.  Fortunately we are okay at the moment for money and food and stuff.  Philip left a huge wad of cash in his bedroom.  We still haven't counted it, but it could well be in the hundreds of thousands.  We are not going to starve, not for a long time here.  But this feels even more like a prison now that our oppressors are gone.  It's all the work.  They really let this beautiful place go to hell, so we spend entire days cleaning, and repainting and gardening, cleaning more and repairing more.  They were all so negligent and destructive.  

I am amazed at how well we are all getting on.  Lydia and I are now in one of the big bedrooms on the second floor.  It is like a luxury apartment, and more than we need, but we are content and it is nice to have her right beside me again.  Theo and Rhona don't appear to really click.  I think that Theo might be homosexual, and Rhona doesn't seem to have eyes for him either, which seems a bit of a pity.  She is an incredibly beautiful woman, and Theo, as far as I can judge a man for his looks, could be called movie star handsome.

We don't talk a lot.  Not even Lydia and me.  I think we are all still really exhausted from everything, and we all seem to be practicing a kind of communal delicacy with one another, leaving each free and alone to heal on their own, while being always present for one another.  I rather like this.  

I wouldn't go as far as to call it heaven on earth.   We all have a lot of things, personal hurdles we need to work through, I think.  Rhona I am a bit worried about. She seems exceptionally wary and shy these days.  This is out of character.  She seemed to have Philip so under her control, but now that she has no one around to manipulate and puppeteer, perhaps she has just imploded on herself.  Since none of us other three are going to be opening contenders for her deft little claws.  Time will tell...

The Peacock 375

 Now we are in the reception room, eating vanilla ice cream from delicate bowls of cut  crystal.  I imagine that if they ever wanted to have a garage sale here,  what a spectacle of the decade!  Aaron and Jesús are side by side on the couch, studying together the journal of Cosme.  Besides  me, everyone is present, including George and Jeff, the three ladies, Francois, us the guests, and of course our two gracious hosts.   It is  cloudy outside and the twilight already is advancing on the earth. 

Jesús looks up and says, "We're ready."   And now we are all silent and attentive, as though waiting for a symphony to begin.

"This will be the first entry in almost two months.  June 9, 1966", says Aaron.  I can almost imagine him smoking a pipe right now.  He has taken on this evening, as often before, an avuncular aspect that I find enchanting and strangely comforting.  

"The police have been here to visit again.  They have been meticulously searching the grounds.  They can't believe our story about the strange and instantaneous disappearance of everyone back in May.  We are all under suspicion.  They must also think we are all psychotic here, since all of us corroborate what happened. Or that we all murdered them together and have concealed the bodies.  We all can scarcely believe ourselves what has happened.  But these police visits are getting tiresome, and there is a possibility that we are all going to be held here under house arrest.  Well, I don't think we are going anywhere.  There is no place else for us to go.  But we seem to be holding our own here as a household.  Lydia and me, and Rhona and Theo.  And we have so much work to do to keep this place livable, we really have very little time left over for mischief or even the luxury of boredom...."

The Peacock 374

 I am happy to help with the cleaning up, since all I did was eat, but I don't just feel obligated.  I love this participating in the natural rhythm of life here.  And I am glad they don't have a dishwasher.  It's all done by hand.  The old-fashioned way, as Aaron likes to say, who is standing next to me drying the dishes as I wash them.  I am feeling normal again, grounded, balanced, or however you want to call it.  No one seems very talkative this evening.  There is a lot to digest, along with dinner.  Dessert is delayed for when we sit in the reception room for more of Cosme's journal.  From time to time Aaron comments on the elegance of some of the pieces we are washing and drying together.   We are alone in the kitchen, the others have taken a break before the evening gathering.  And again I am thinking of what I really should not be thinking about.  I do not want to lapse again into a mental health crisis.  But I am wanting to talk to Aaron about those two women he knew at church, their conversation about the war.  He seems a very kind man, but one who takes no prisoners, who has a very low tolerance threshold for bullshit or dishonesty.  Yes, that was why he ran into so many problems at St. James.  The Anglican Church is really founded, not on Christ, nor the Gospels, but on bullshit and dishonesty.  How else could the likes of Father Griffin, a resident priest and sexual predator, go on undetected for so long before his repentance?  And following his change of life, how many of the old guard in the church literally turned against him.  

But how could Aaron so deftly live simultaneously in two different dimensions?  He could be just bullshitting us.  But that is not like Aaron.

"Where are you right now", I ask.

"I'm standing next to you here in the kitchen, drying this beautiful dinner plate.  Where are you right now?"

"Standing next to you washing a glass." I pause, then, "And that's it?" I ask.

"Later", he says, while pulling the plug.

"Tomorrow?"  I am  wiping dry the dish drain.

"Get some rest tonight..."

The Peacock 373

 No, I don't want to be treated like an invalid. But it is rather embarrassing feeling like the member of the community who just isn't really well. Dinner is a quiet affair this evening and Carl's vegetarian chili is spectacular, and we are almost all soon clamouring for seconds.  This evening, it seems, if we have anything to talk about, it is going to be about food.  Sarah has just finished a monologue about the best Thai red curry she has ever eaten, in Bangkok of course, and Maureen is trying to wheedle from Carl his chili recipe.  Francois dines with focussed silent intensity, though Jenn is still peppering him with inquiries  about recipes from the monastery where he was apparently for a while cook and master chef. Yes, we want everything in this dinner, in this conversation, to be as it ought to be, harmless, insipid, innocuous, with the false innocence that hangs like a delicate  beige shroud over any bourgeois dinner table.  George and Jeffery are both listening, a captive audience, to Jesús, as he describes to them the various kids of arepa that are made and enjoyed in Colombia.  Given that he is usually so quiet, and his English a bit limited, he appears to be the only one here tonight to really come out of his shell. I am seated with Carl, Melissa, and Carol, who is offering some tips about buying and choosing the best dried Mexican chilis.  Apparently she is also a friend of the famous British foodie, Nigella Lawson.  

The bread, homemade, courtesy of Melissa, is like the best supporting actor to the chili.  It is solid, but soft, multigrain, and delicately sweet, and still warm from the oven.  It is a joy to spread butter on a slice, and watch it melt, just a little, before popping the entire wholesome extravaganza into one's mouth.

Suddenly, Francois speaks up and announces, "I was just talking to Brother Glen, and he is going to talk to the others tonight about rapprochement.  Apparently, several of them are particularly disappointed in themselves for how they conducted themselves today."

"We can meet during coffee at ten tomorrow morning", says Carl dryly.

Suddenly Aaron arriving late, plunks himself next to me and scoops some chili onto a plate.  "Anyone here for hearing more of Cosme's journal after dinner?  Jesús?"

Jesus nods affirmatively, and Aaron proceeds to shovel the delicious aromatic chili into his gaping mouth.

The Peacock 372

 "We have to talk to Aaron".

"Are you alright now?"

"Yes.  Better, anyway", I reply.   "The English woman is named Joan.  The Dutch woman is Toni."

"Sorry?"

"When I was talking to Carol in the garden, I told her about a nasty argument that happened between two women at St. James, years ago.  I thought that Aaron had told me about it.  Apparently, he didn't, but somehow, I still know all the details of what happened.  This is something that he witnessed almost forty years ago.  He insists that he never told me, and I am also sure that no one else did either."

"Oh my god", says Carl, slumping down in the chair again, shaking his head.  "Oh my god."  He looks at me.  "Are you sure you're up to being with everyone.  I could bring dinner up to you and we could eat it together here."

"Nope."  I am vigorously shaking my head.  "I am feeling much better now.  FOMO, you know."

"Fear of missing out."

"And I don't want to be treated like an invalid.  Let's go."    

The Peacock 371

 There is a knock on the door.  Then it opens slowly, revealing Carl's face peering in on me.  I have only just awoken.  It is almost seven, and I wonder if I am going to miss breakfast.  Then I notice that I am fully clothed.  I never go to bed without stripping to my underwear.   Carl is smiling.

"Have I missed breakfast?"

"It isn't tomorrow yet", he says smiling.  "We are about to start dinner.  Hungry?"

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"I would guess for about two hours", he says, perching on the edge of the chair.  "How are you?"

"Kind of groggy.  But I don't know, yet.  Here, let's see if I can stand up."

Carl offers me his hand, which I gladly accept, as I plant both feet on the floor.

"So far, so good?" he says.  "Let´s see if you can stand up. "  He pulls me up by the forearm.  I feel wobbly, and almost lose my balance.  But now I am standing.

"What happened to me?"

"I think you had another episode.  Do you remembered what happened?"

I suddenly see in my mind's eye again, two women.  An English matron, maybe around sixty.  Dark, dyed hair, tall, rather handsome and impeccably dressed, with the kind of look that clearly takes no prisoners.  And then a shorter, rather frowsy looking woman, Dutch, I think, wearing glasses, nicely dressed in a brown dress and aqua cardigan.  She is almost doubled over weeping.

The Peacock 370

 "How are you?" says Carl, standing over me. His face appears stark, clear, crystalline as his playful blue eyes become sombre and concerned, and the lines around his mouth framing it like a Rembrandt portrait. 

"Mel, can you bring Chris a glass of water please?"

She responds promptly.  The water is cold, so cold, so pure, so holy and eternal.  I will drink and drink, and never again thirst, yet still I must drink and continue to drink.

"Chris", says Carl, "let´s go upstairs.  Get some rest.  Supper won't be for at least two hours.  You've had a heavy day.  Come, let's go."  He helps me up, and I lean on him as he supports me out of the kitchen, and up the grand staircase, and it all looks so lovely right now, and I only wish I could communicate the absolute loveliness, the exalted splendour that fills and envelops me.  I am smiling, stupidly and hopelessly blissed out with joy, but I know that I need to rest now, and my friend, my brother, my hero, Carl, is here for me, has been always here for me, and now I love him so with every molecule of my being, and I don't want us to be apart, not for one single second.  

We make it to the top of the stairs, and he guides me to my room, his room at the end of the hall.  He leads me to the bed, and helps me lie down, then pulls each shoe from my feet, Then from the closet pulls out a green blanket that he covers me with, and yes, now it is his turn to tuck me into bed.  He sits down on the side of the bed, and gently strokes my hair, and I don't want him to leave. 

"Here, Chris, rest for a while", he says, then kisses me on the forehead.  I will come up and get you when dinner is ready. "He gently closes the door behind him, and now I am sinking into oblivion...

The Peacock 369

 Choosing to ignore her, I say to Aaron, "I almost told her about those two women at St. James you told me about, the English and Dutch ladies, who had the big fight at breakfast one morning after mass about the Second World War.  Remember, you said that the English one was a real battle axe who ended up making the Dutch lady break down crying.  She was trying to convince everyone that the English had suffered as much as or more than the Dutch from the bombings, and the Dutch lady tried to get her to see, that when your country is actually under occupation like Holland was from the Germans, it's a totally different ballgame, and the Brit simple did not want to see it, and then the poor Dutch lady, who lived through it, and likely had to survive on tulip bulbs herself, broke down in front of everyone."

Still stirring the onions and garlic, Aaron replies", Chris, I never told you that."

"What do you mean."

"That is exactly the way it happened, almost forty years ago, sometime, I think, in the early or mid eighties.  But I never told you about it."

I am beginning to feel again very strange and queasy,  as if another episode is coming my way.  Suddenly, I need to sit down.  Aaron notices that I am holding onto the counter for support.  He deftly slips a chair under me.

"How did I know, then"  I am still feeling dizzy.

"That, is exactly what I would like to know", say I, and I am already beginning to hyperventilate.

The Peacock 368

 We are having chili tonight, and Aaron and I are both chopping onions.  It is going to be a big pot, since we are feeding  the three ladies as well as Francois and the rest of us, not to mention George and Jeff, since they have already decidedly defected to our side.  This is rather like a civil war, it would seem. Aaron tosses my onion slices into the sizzling olive oil and the ones he has already put there, and begins to rapidly stir.  He seems a very efficient cook.  But doesn't use a chopping board, preferring to chop everything while holding it into the cooking pot.  Now he is doing the garlic.  Smashing each clove with the knife, chopping it in half with the zeal of a smiling executioner, then pulling off the skin from each half, like an ardent lover stripping off the clothes from his beloved.  Melissa is stirring the mixture of beans and tomato sauce, while Jesús grates the cheese.  

"I was just chatting with Carol out in the garden", say I to Aaron. 

"I imagine she is laying low as usual."

"She was reading out by the southern magnolia."

"Did she say anything interesting?"

"She mentioned that the Dutch, under German occupation during World War 2, had to eat tulip bulbs in order to survive.  Then, she had the nerve to say that she would never be caught eating tulip bulbs since the flowers are so lovely."

"That is just too funny.  Hey, we've both seen her eat."

"How can one help but notice."

""No gossiping", barks Melissa, whom one never knows is joking or not.

"Carl, who is shredding greens for the salad, simply quips, "Okay, Mel let's all talk about you instead."

"

"

The Peacock 367

 The tulips are now in their glory and the bearded irises are rapidly gaining ground.

"The gardens here are just exquisite", says Carol.  "You know despite the loveliness of the English country garden, for sheer splendour the Dutch do put us to shame."

"I'm surprised they don't grow food here", say I.

"Yes, more is the pity, I imagine.  Christopher, did you know that during the Nazi occupation during the Second World War, the Dutch had to eat tulip bulbs in order to stay alive.  Can you just imagine?  They are such lovely flowers, I think that I would go hungry instead."

I refrain from comment, having already seen how well and how amply this famous pianist can put away food.  I am also thinking right now of a recent conversation with Aaron, when he told me about a quarrel between two ladies at St. James.  This happened some years ago.  One was British and had lived through the bombing of Britain.  The other was Dutch, and she had survived the Nazi occupation of her country.  It got really nasty when the British woman suggested that the English had suffered every bit as the Dutch from the bombing, and that this woman was a very typical arrogant sort of British middle class, completely incapable of real empathy or of seeing other perspectives.  The Dutch woman, this was over the breakfast table in the clergy house following an early morning mass, broke down weeping as she tried to convince the stubborn cow that there might be something decidedly more traumatic when they go jackbooting into your country as the Nazis did.  I prudently keep my counsel, having already guessed what I might expect to hear from Carol by way of reply.

As we approach the house I imagine that I will be going into the kitchen to help with dinner before Melissa volunteers me.  Not to my surprise, Carol simply disappears in the direction of the stairs that will take her up to her room...

The Peacock 366

 "Why did Aaron and you arrive late?"

"There is a cabin nearby.  And seems to be at least partly inhabited."

"A cabin, you say?"

"If you take this path far enough to the left, you come to the border of the property, and it opens up to another trail.  I went there this morning and eventually came across a meadow or a field, and that's where the cabin is.  I didn't go in, but on the way back, I saw it again from the road, so Aaron and I thought we'd check it out.  The door was unlocked and we made rather an unusual find in there.  Apparently it's a wristwatch that belonged to Carl and Melissa's father, and also two family photos of Carl and Melissa when they were children in Amsterdam.   We thought that Carl and Melissa would like to have them so we brought them back."

"How very strange!" says Carol.  "Whom do you think put them there?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Do you think it could be connected to the death and disappearance of their father?"

"Who only knows."

"Mystery upon mystery upon mystery!  You know, Christopher, staying in this outrageous mansion has become for me like an Agatha Christie novel rewritten and illustrated by Salvador Dali!"  

"This has been getting creepy", I say, getting up.  "I'm going back for dinner.  Coming...?"

The Peacock 365

 "Can you imagine all of us here at the house going naked?" says Carol, just recovering from her squealing laughter.

"After you, Carol."

"Oh, but after you, Christopher."

"Ladies first."  We seem to be running out of steam, and are both seized by the awkwardness of our situation.

"There was a nudist cult here during the fifties and sixties", say I.

"Yes, I remember what Carl was telling us.  Could that be where I got the idea?"

"This place is haunted.  I am sure that none of those people that were here before us have really entirely left."

"Yes, I think I see that."

"Like the name Cosme.  You remember, when I arrived, and had lost my memory, and thought my name was Cosme. I had never heard of that name before, and then Carl produces his diary, by the guy with the same name."

"That is decidedly odd.  Are you guys going to translate some more of it?"

"I can't, because I don't know Spanish.  But I think that Jesús and Aaron are going to do some more for us after dinner tonight..."

The Peacock 364

 Carol says, "Have you ever thought what a church service would be like if everyone showed up naked?

"What would the clergy use for vestments?"

"They'd have to do without."

A concept I have never considered.  But it seems rather strange, even a little bit creepy coming out of the mouth of Carol Barlow-Meade, world famous concert pianist, in the most cultured Queen's English.

"Sorry.  I hope that didn't offend you.  I don't know where that idea came from, but being here seems to pull whatever strange thing from our mouths, doesn't it?"  When she sees me trying not to laugh she adds, "Yes, I suppose it is rather funny."

"I was just trying to visualize some of the people at St. James in their birthday suits", and now I am succumbing to paroxysms of incontrolable laughter, and soon Carol is joining it.

"Especially when everyone's on their knees, " she laughs, snorting, "And some of those naked bums sticking up in the air!"

Carol's snorting laughter simply eggs me on, and I don't think I can stop.  "And what if the celebrant lets out one loud ripper of a fart!"

"While blessing the elements and elevating the host", screams Carol, with a laugh rather like a police siren...

The Peacock 363

 "Do you think that father Griffin will be coming around again?" I ask.

"I rather doubt it", says Carol.  "For all his sanctity, the man has terrible pride.  And today we did find his achilles heel."

"His racism."

"If you  could call it that."  She looks down quietly.  "I suppose I should be one to talk, After my own episode with Francois.  What is it about this house where one is always being caught off guard."

"I should be the one to know.  I don't think that any of us is going to come out looking our best."

"Yes, we do want to look our best, one would suppose", says Carol.  "You know,something, when I began attending St. James five years ago, I really pulled out all the stops in order to look my best.  As though dressing for dinner, except that the meal was going to be the eucharist.  Then one morning, I slept late, and didn't have time to doll myself up.  So, in a twinkle of mischief, I simply pulled on the same pair of jeans that I wore the day before while working in the garden.  They weren't really dirty.  Then pulled on a T shirt and sneakers, and off I went.  Mother was quite appalled.  But that became, shall we say, my church uniform."

"God doesn't care how we dress."

"He is only concerned with the condition of our souls..."

The Peacock 362

 Carol seems to be fixated on the now almost fully open magnolia blossom, that spreads across the dark green like a creamy white dinner plate. I find that  I am watching for the peacock.

"There is a purpose to our being here, Christopher", says Carol, unprompted.

"I suppose you could call it that."

"We are all, individually and collectively, undergoing a kind of spiritual surgery.  Such is often the purpose of such a retreat.  But here there is a difference."

"What would that be?"

"We are all undergoing the same kind of surgery.  Carl and Melissa, as well as you and I.  The three women and Francois, along with Aaron and Jesús.  All of us.  It's messy.  And chaotic.  And so highly necessary.  This is going to be difficult.  And we are all in it together, as alone and isolated as some of us might feel at the time.  What, by the way, is your vocation?"

"I work in palliative care."

"With the dying.  My God, young man.  With the dying!"  She looks down at her book, as though thinking of picking it up again, ignores it, and says, "Christopher, we are all in one terrible, dreadful  mess here.  And this has to be.  We were all summoned here. By God, and it might be a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God, but here we are, we have all fallen into those hands, those terrible, open and wounded hands of Christ, and now the blood is touching us all...."

The Peacock 361

 "You're sure that is what you want to do?" says Carol.

"Right now, after three days here, I can't say that I'm sure about anything.  And I imagine that you would feel quite the same."

"Quite indeed.  Who was that friend of yours, whose diary you are reading with Carl."

"He lived with my father and I for five years. Died when I was twenty.  He would have been already in his thirties.  Jumped off a bridge, or so the story goes."

"How awful.  Were you very close?"

"He was family.  Not simply like family.  Kenny became family.  I lost my brother."

"You are an only child."

"That I am."

"I am very sad for you."

"For being an only child?"

"No.  For your loss.  You already know about my story as a younger sibling.  You don't want to imitate my good fortune."

"Do you think you'll ever see her again?"

"Tina?  God only knows."

"Would you like to see her?"

"As I said, God only knows.."

"

The Peacock 360

 "And if you want, I will tell you right now, play by play exactly what Carl and I have been getting up to."

"You don't mean to say..."

"I mean to say, that one of us lies on the bed, the other sits on a chair, and we eat snacks and talk and tell each other jokes, and I read to him from the diary of a close friend of mine who died by suicide."

"I am so sorry..."

"Nothing to be sorry about.  Then we give each other a hug, and we go to bed.  Separately."

"And that's all?"

"Right now, anyway."

"And you trust him?"

"So far I am finding Carl to be one of the most trustworthy persons I have ever known.  Even though we've known each other for three days, I can see myself spending the rest of my life with him.

"The rest of your life!"

"Well, I think it is quite a bit early to be thinking about marriage, but I could still see myself living here full time and making a life with both Carl and Melissa..."

The Peacock 359

 "But, really, Christopher, do be careful around him.  He could have a bit of an agenda with you."

"Maybe you want to worry about Carl, instead", I reply, smiling.

"You don't mean to say...

"We really seem to like each other"

"I daresay, you do spend a lot of time together.  But is it healthy?"

"You mean here?"

"I mean exactly here.  That could hardly be considered appropriate here in a Christian spiritual retreat centre."

"I don't think you need to worry about us."

"Then you and Carl, you are just,...friends, you mean to say?"

"I mean to say there is nothing to worry about.  We are both okay."

"But all this time you are alone together, up in one of the bedrooms."

"No telling what we might be getting up to:" And as uncomfortable as I find her awful intrusive questions, I am rather enjoying this opportunity of playing with her.  "And by the way, the other day, wasn't it you who said that our sexuality is a gift?"

"I didn't mean...but Christopher, what re you two getting up to!"

"It's none of your business, and if you are really worried, then why don't you come upstairs and join us tonight?"

The Peacock 358

 "There's an awful lot of drama here. Drama and intrigue", says Carol.  "And to think we all came here for a rest.  Well, today, I have been taking it easy,  laying low so to speak.  I did make the mistake of sitting in on the last bit of the meeting this afternoon.  But really, aside from chatting with Melissa and a bit with the two new ladies here, I have been simply escaping for long walks or reading my book here in the garden.  Melissa, by the way, is a most fascinating young lady.  Did you know that she has a black belt in karate?"

"She did mention something."

"She is like Diana Rigg in her role as Mrs. Emma Peel from the Avengers detective series.  Did you ever see the Avengers? A fascinating drama comedy spy series from the sixties.  And Diana was way ahead of her time, karate chopping and judo flipping felons that got in her way.  She was an inspiration to many young British girls from back in the day.  Me included."

"I imagine she keeps her brother in line."

"Carl", then she coughs lightly.  "Deplorable young man.  just deplorable."

"I like him."

"But he is so bloody shameless and indiscrete.  He is so dreadfully Dutch!"

"Part of his charm."

Sucking back a good draught of air, which makes her mouth pucker in a way that makes me want to laugh, she says, "Oh, I suppose so."

The Peacock 357

 She doesn't seem to notice my approach, not at first anyway.  Then she looks up, and for a second a shadow flickers over her face, as though she is a bit cross that her privacy has been violated, perhaps more than a bit , then quickly shoves it under a cheery and welcoming smile.  

"Well, hello, Christopher.  Do sit down, please." She gestures to the other bench. "Isn't this a lovely little grotto?

"If you can call it that."

"Well, perhaps not exactly a grotto, but I am sure that you know what I mean.  And that magnolia is simply enchanting.  Here it isn't yet the middle of May and already it is beginning to bloom.  For a southern magnolia, very early, and most unusual, I would say."

"What book are you reading?"

"Wuthering Heights.  I just adore the Bronte sisters.  And how about you?  How ARE you getting along?"

I understand what she is getting at.  "I am feeling a lot better now.  Thanks for asking."

"Think nothing of it dear.  We were, I was, so frightfully worried about you the other night, but you really seem to have come around.  You said you had amnesia when you came here?  How very frightening that must have been for you."

"My father's death must have left an impact.  And other matters as well.  How are you doing?"

"I'm muddling through as usual."  She puts the book face down beside her and rubs her eyes with the knuckles of her right hand.  She still hasn't put the rings back on.

The Peacock 356

 This is all too much for me and now I have to get away.  Yes, to the gardens for a solitary walk, but even farther beyond.  I have my car back and I just might succumb to temptation and leave this place.  I have never in my life had three days so completely immersed in the lives of other people.   Now I seem to have moved from the land of the dead to the living.  I have no idea when I'm returning to work.  I am returning, I am sure of that.  I have long known that my vocation is with the dying. This is going to be a very hard place to leave.  Carl and I have bonded, brothers, more than brothers. And the others also beguile me.  Aaron says he is an author and that he is writing us.  Somehow that doesn't strike me as altogether implausible, and I seem to be looking into his world as much as he is looking into mine.  How else could I explain being able to see his apartment in my mind, with those beautiful coloured cushions and the teal and golden Indian bedspread? I am living in a dreamscape, and perhaps I am waiting to wake up.  My sense of reality has always been, at best, fragile, and I do fear another episode.  At least I have my memory back.  

I even could end up living here.  Carl seems to expect it.  And I could do a lot worse.  I might even sublet my place to Erik when he comes and just stay here.  But I also want to spend time with Erik.  It's been ten years.  Sarah seems interesting.  I want to ask her more about her travels, especially her time in Australia  And to get to know the other two women she came here with.  And George and Jeff, a couple.  Why should I find that surprising?

I do want to return to the diner.  Maybe even tonight for coffee house, but I think we have already things here that need to be attended to.  And I want to hang out with Carl again tonight, read some more of Kenny's diary.

It is nice having time alone here, and too late, because there, on one of the benches by the magnolia is Carol reading a book....

The Peacock 355

 Guilty as charged", says Carl smiling.

"We cut him off on his fifth glass of ale", says Aaron.  Then we waited around for an hour and something for him to sobre up a bit.  That's why we're so late getting back."

"Just as well", says Melissa.  "That was one of their sticking points about forming with us a united household.  They think our ways to be a little bit too fancy free for their digestion."

"Prissy little prigs", says Carl.  "But evidently, they are not entirely unanimous."

"George and Jeff say they've both had their bellyful.  And this is another reason the others have shown resistance, "says Melissa.  "They want to live with us as a couple.  Apparently, a few months ago they snuck off to Mission where they were married by the justice of the peace.  They are also hoping that we as a community will bless their union."

"I don't see why not", says Carl.  "Easier to do that than to wait for the others to get over their homophobia."

Melissa picks up one of the two family photos.  "So, anyway, when should we go out to the cabin?"

"Tomorrow sometime?" says Carl.

"Should we come with you?" says Aaron.

""I would like that very much", says Carl.  "Mel?"

"I don't see why not.  After breakfast?"

"Sounds like a plan", says Carl.

The Peacock 354

 "For example", continues Aaron, "A few years ago a I had a dream about a doctor in Mexico.  I knew nothing about her, at the time, but I was in this dream visiting a clinic in the desert in rural Mexico.  I think in the Sonora dessert.  She was wearing a white lab coat, looked exhausted.  An older woman, around my age, I'd say.  And we were conversing in Spanish.  It was suggested I should return at around three thirty in the afternoon  Then it was just around eleven-thirty.  She told me her name.  It was Juanita Jiménez.  So, the next day, I looked her up on the internet.  In less than five minutes, there she was on YouTube, giving an address about care delivery in the city of Aguascalientes in Mexico.  Same woman, same face, same voice, same accent of Spanish."

"She also happens to be my aunt", says I.  "My mother's sister.  That is truly amazing."

"Are you in touch with her?" asks Aaron.

"We haven't communicated in a few years.  But, now I think I should reopen the channels with her."

"That is truly amazing", says Carl.

"But not at all surprising" says Melissa.   "By the way, Carl, what's this I heard about you getting drunk today?  I can still smell it on you."

The Peacock 353

 "As I explained to you back in the diner, I have a rather curious relationship straddling both our worlds."

"Huh?" says Melissa.

"Aaron says he is writing a book about us."

"You don't say."

"It's a little more complicated than that, Melissa", says Aaron.  "I am actually writing all of you, right now, while seated in front of my laptop in my apartment."

"We're all a product of your imagination.  Uh-huh, yes, I see."

"Well, then don't believe me."

"Look, Aaron, after nine years of living here, off and on, you might say that right now there is a flock of bright green pigs flying towards the moon, and I would still believe you.  This place is cursed.  Or enchanted, or pick a word, but, no, this is not at all a surprise to me.  Nothing surprises me any more.  Nothing."  She pulls off her eyeglasses, as though she wants to see better, or perhaps, not liking what she is seeing, to somehow blur her vision.

I am sure now that I either dreamed of your father, and that encounter wiht him at my dad's, or somehow just thought it up without really thinking.  I do have dreams like that sometimes..."

The Peacock 352

 "We have to go to the cabin", Carl says.

"Who do you think that was?" I ask.

"I think that was all we saw of him. Mel?"

"I don't remember anything else."

"Dad used to disappear for up to four or five days at a time."

"Do you think he was staying in the cabin?"

"I don't know", says Carl.

"You know", says Melissa, "He really was acting strange the last few years."

"Was he still drinking?" asks Aaron.

"That's right, you knew our dad".,

"I thought I knew him."

"What do you mean?" says Melissa.

"I think I might have seen him in a dream, and then just assumed that was him."

"But surely you recognize him in the photo"; says Carl.  "Aaron, is there a story there?"

The Peacock 351

 "You never told me anything", Melissa says to Carl.

"I wasn't sure what to say.  And I didn't want to worry you.  And then, after he did the deed, you and I were so caught up in our immediate survival that I must have pushed it to the back of my mind."

"Wait a minute", she says.  "I have also seen this guy.  I'm sure of it.  It must have been earlier that day.  I was out way in the back, looking for birds, and there was a raven I was trying to follow through the trees.  I was really fascinated by ravens, and sometimes heard them talking among themselves, like humans, with their own kind of language.  Seriously, it does happen."

"I believe you" Aaron says.  "I also heard a family group of ravens once having a conversation in a tree in Cathedral Grove on Vancouver Island.  It was quite incredible."

"Where were you, exactly?" says Carl.

"I was at the edge of the property, near the entrance to that path that Dad ordered us to stay away from.I stopped just short of the entrance to the trail, when I saw this man approach me from the trail.  He looked like he was heading towards the house.  I at first tried to hide, but he already saw me.  And in those days, when the Asperger's was still pretty bad, I was simply too painfully shy to want to start a conversation, especially with some strange man appearing out of nowhere.  But he was a short, slim man, about dad's age or a bit older.  He simply just stared, or glared right at me, like his eyes were boring into me.  He held me in his gaze and said "Hello.".  I said nothing, but yes, he did have an accent.  I am going to see your father he said.  Is he at the house?  I said nothing, but then noticed a little deer trail so I ran away on it."

The Peacock 350

 "I remember someone coming over to talk to him the night before he died", says Carl.

"Where was I?" says Melissa querulously.

"You would have been in your room."

"Oh, that's right.  I was sleeping way off in the other wing of the house."

"You really seemed to enjoy your space back in the day", says Carl, in such a tone that only a  brother would use with his little sister.

"Don´t start.  Anyway, what happened?"

"This guy came over.  A bit older than dad.  I was seated in the breakfast room eating ice cream. before he came in the house, Dad sent me up to my room.  But I had a distinct impression of him.  He seemed very taut, and intense.  And I did not like the look on his face, the little I could see of him from the window.  So, I obeyed, sort of.  I paused for a while on the stairs, and they were seated in the small reception room.  I couldn't exactly hear his voice, but he seemed to have a bit of an accent, but too faint to identify. But dad must have caught a glimpse of me, because he came out and firmly ordered me up to my room, in that voice and tone of his that you know you dare not defy.  Kind of like you, Mel."

"The apple doesn't rot far from the tree", she says flatly.

"I do remember one thing that dad said to this guy.  ?Haven't I strictly ordered you to stay away from this house while my children are visiting!'  But then he lowered his voice again and I picked up nothing else."

The Peacock 349

 "What I need to know", says Melissa, "is how did they get there?  Nothing squares here.  None of this makes sense.  She has picked up again one of the family photos, then passes it to her brother.

"Your father must have known about the cabin", says Aaron.

"He never said anything about it", says Melissa.

"He used to disappear sometimes", Carl interjects.  "Maybe that was his personal hideout.  A man cave, maybe."

"When did you see him last?" I ask.

"I already told you", Carl replies a  bit sharply.  "When he shot himself."

"If, for sure, he shot himself", says Melissa.

"Who could have done it?" says Carl.  

"And how did his body get carried away?  Someone must have done it."

"His remains were never found?" I ask.

"Never", says Carl.

"Did your father have enemies?" asks Aaron.

"With his difficult temperament and tendency of turning on and betraying others", says Melissa", I wouldn't be at all surprised."

"Was there anyone", I ask.

"Wait a minute", says Carl.  "I seem to remember someone..."

The Peacock 348

 All the others have left the room save for Carl, Melissa, Aaron and me. We sit around the coffee table,  Our four cups refilled with coffee and the watch and family photos and envelope all provide a curious decor, and I wonder what kind of still life painting this could make.  Melissa is holding and studying one of the photos now.  And Carl has just picked up the watch, which he examines as though looking for structural flaws. 

"You found these in the cabin?" he says. 

"On top of a table, with a kerosene lantern", says Aaron. 

"I've never been in there", he says.  "Neither of us have been there."

"So then these are..." I say.

"They are", says Melissa.

"How old were you", say I.

"I would have been six.  "Carl would have just turned twelve."

"It was our last time together," says Carl.  "As a family.  Dad left us in the summer.  And soon they divorced.  Mom gave dad the watch for Christmas the year before."

The Peacock 347

 "We stopped at the cabin", say I.

He looks at us dumbfounded, then feebly croaks, "After I expressly told you not to return there?"

"What happened?" Aaron asks.

"Melissa replies, "We were just beginning to make headway here with negotiations, then, in the last twenty minutes, everything started to go sideways."

"When you both went to the cabin", Carl sputters.

Carol says, "I don't think it's going to be that bad.  We suddenly all began to quarrel about how we were to constitute ourselves as a unified household, and the others decided to just leave it for now and continue doing their own thing.  Jeff and George alone have defected to us.  Like François, and the ladies.   It would appear that here, in this magnificent house, the Berlin Wall has just been rebuilt."

Aaron says, "Carl, Melissa, I will not lie to you.  Christopher and I both went into the cabin, under the Lord's protection.  I am so sorry that it resulted in this huge spiritual siege.  But I think you both might be  interested in what we found there.  He approaches Carl and hands him both the watch and the envelope with the photos.

"Carl receives the watch and the envelope in his hand, takes one look at them and whispers, "Oh my God!"

The Peacock 346

 They are all seated together in the reception room. The others have arrived ahead of us, ad I see Melissa, Carol, the two other women, and the members of the community.  I think they are all present.  The air carries a rather heavy weight, and I am certain that no one is going to be very pleased with the outcome of the discussion.

"Are we terribly late?" says Aaron.

"No need to worry", says Melissa.  "we are just finishing up."

"Have we missed anything?"

No one answers.  There are no empty seats, so we , Aaron and I , just stand there, looking in on the others.  Then some of them, all members of the community, slowly get up and quietly file out of the room, leaving the rest of us, along with Sarah, Maureen, Jenn, François, George, and Jeff.  No one else, apart from us the guests. Carl sits in an armchair in the centre of the room, his face buried in his hands.  Melissa appears pensive and expressionless, her usual self.  The others all sit around him, as though to offer a ring of protection.  Carol is seated off to the side, the cat next to her.  She is stroking him gently. 

Carl slowly removes his hands from his face.  He appears stricken, pale, as though trying to contain some deftly concealed horror.

"Could someone please tell me what just  happened?" says Aaron.

Carl mumbles something, then pauses, then tries again to speak. Then he turns to Aaron and I, and says, "Where were you two just now?"

The 344

 We are almost at the house.  "What kind of day are your having right now, where...where you live?"

"It's been a little bit ghastly. I have discovered that I have bedbugs.  Don't worry, I don't think I can transfer other living things here.  Just my own blessed self."

"I had them two years ago.  It took me weeks to get rid of them.  I am sure they came from a secondhand desk that I bought shortly before."

"Mine came from some second hand shirts that I bought.  Or at least I think they did.  My fault, for not sealing them in plastic bags and laundering them right away, I guess.  But with all the fuss with the pandemic, it is easy to get distracted from other urgencies, I guess.  But I caught it early.  Just saw one bug, dead already, I think, tucked far away inside a sky blue pillow case.

"That is one of your smaller pillows", say I ", Isn't it?"

"I suppose.  If you say so."

"And you have one other small pillow, magenta or fuchsia colour.  And three big ones.   One is a really nice spring green colour, the other two are different shades of orange.  They look really nice on top of the Indian bedspread which is sort of a teal with designs and patterns of different shades of blue and gold."

"It's as if you are visiting me in my apartment.  By the way, someone came to my door in order to assure me that someone will be coming in tomorrow to take care of the bugs.  Not bad given that it's a holiday."

"What date is it right now, where you live?"

"August first. BC Day tomorrow which will be Monday.  And now we are home again."

The Peacock 343

 "What was this you were saying about wanting to trust everyone?"

"It isn't that naïve, it's more of a kind of essential innocence", says Aaron.

"Essential innocence."

"It's something that I learned during street ministry."

"What do you mean?" I actually have just said this to fill in the pause.  He appears to be thinking out loud.  It is nice to be back behind my own steering wheel.

"I was lied to so often, by so many.  And they weren't just the hookers on the street corner or the queens and twinks in the gay bars, but also people in the church.  Clergy especially.  I really think that Anglican priests, for lies and broken promises, even surpass politicians."

I pass on answering this, but thinking of my father, and all the subtle lies and deceptions, little white lies, but oh how they accumulated.   Yes, Aaron might have a point, but this wound for me is still a little bit raw.

"What it's come to", he says, "Is that I never know anymore if someone is telling me the truth.  but I still try to accept it as what they want me to hear, and that maybe they are trying as hard as they can to be truthful.  Just as I try as hard as I can to speak truth.  But there is something so essentially dishonest about our human nature, that any attempt that we make to be truthful can only be regarded as a shot in the dark.  but I still want to hold on to what is the most essential part of each person.  And it isn't falsehood.  It is truth.  It is not darkness.  It is light.  It's only otherwise for those who truly choose to become evil..."

The Peacock 342

 We are heading back to the car.  "You told us yesterday about your time in Europe."

Aaron replies ", Yeah, I went to Vondel Park the next day after I was robbed on my first night at knife point.  Then there were these two guys following me all over Amsterdam.  of course, my visit to Vondel simply provided that missing surrealist twist, so that the next morning I was on an early train to Brussels."

"I don't imagine you ever want to go back there."

"On the contrary.  For one thing, the city has really been cleaned up a lot, and for another, if I decide to go back, I'm going to take care to not be stupid when I arrive there.  That was my first international trip, and even though I was thirty-five, and certainly no longer a kid, I was also, back in the day, very naïve, despite the street smarts that I had in Vancouver.  Plus, and this must be a Christian thing, I have always been towards others simply a little bit too trusting."

"So, aren't you afraid of going back there, I mean with the traumatic events that happened?"

"The only times I have ever regretted anything have been those same times when I have caved to fear.  That isn't to say that I will be stupid instead, just a little better informed."

"So, you are going back?"

"I have no idea, but if I ever feel that that is a direction I should take, then I will just do it."

"Hang the  consequences."

"If there are any consequences, just think of the tale I will have to tell you when I get back..."

The Peacock 341

 They are both family portraits, the same family, mother and father and a boy and a girl, grouped together in a garden somewhere.  The boy seems around twelve, the girl younger, perhaps seven or eight.  The father appears to be a tall lean man in his forties, a smile forced against his stern and disapproving face.  The mother is short, and slim with dark brown hair, very pretty with a clever, nimble expression and a smile that must be genuine.  The boy is grinning clownishly.  He has short blond hair.  This could only be Carl, and the reticent, solemn little elf next to him with long brown hair could only be his sister Melissa.

We both just stand there at the table, staring stupidly at the photograph, both of us studying this family that has been suddenly thrust into our view.  Aaron turns over first one photo then the other.  Both have the same inscription written in a clear, fluid and rather loopy cursive, in dark blue ink.

Vondel Park, 1994

"where would that be?" I ask.

"Amsterdam.  I was there three years earlier, visiting the same park.  The place was notorious.

"For what"

"Why, for the same kinds of things that any big park in a big sophisticated city would be famous for.  Loose sex, drugs and occasional gratuitous nudity."

"Sounds like quite the scene."

"To say the least.  What are we going to do with our little find?"

"Hand them over to Carl and Melissa", say I.

"And that is exactly what we are going to do..."

The Peacock 340

 There is a barb wire fence in the way, but  climbing through it unscathed seems easy enough. The grass is long, and fresh green from the spring rain.  It does appear to be a cabin, in the middle of this field.  There are windows on all sides, and a sheltered porch where the door is.  Aaron knocks' on the door.  There is no answer, and he gently pushes it open.  There is a strange, but not pungent musty odour.  And our eyes need time to adjust to the dim light..  There is a table in the middle of the small room, with a wooden chair, and a bed against the wall, that seems freshly made.  We exchange glances and Aaron says, "It would appear that this place is actually lived in, at least from time to time."  There is nothing adorning the bare wooden walls.  On the table, a kerosene lamp.

"I wonder who must be staying here", I say.   "This is very curious."

Now that I am better adjusted to the dark, I notice something on the table, next to the lamp, and a rectangle of  yellow brown paper underneath.  They are a wristwatch with a metal band, and underneath, an envelope.  Aaron picks up the watch and carefully examines it.  "This is interesting", he murmurs.  He turns it over and looks carefully at the back of the clock face.  He carries it to a window, for a better look with better light.  "This is really interesting", he says.

"What is it?"

"Come over and have a look at this."  A name is engraved in the metal.  Jan Vancoevorden.

"That is Carl and Melissa's family name", say I.

"It could be their father", says Aaron, who returns to the table and picks up the envelope.  Carefully he opens out, and out on the table drop two photographs....

The Peaock 339

 "Why did you stop the car?  We're due back at the house.  In fact, we're running late."

"Aaron, I'm sorry, I have to go look in that cabin."

"After what happened?"

"I feel drawn there.  In fact, I feel called there.  I don't know why.  But it feels like something important.  Look, you can wait in the car if you want.  You don't have to go in with me."

Aaron pauses, quiet, as though thinking, or praying hard.

"No, I think I'm supposed to be accompanying you.  Is that okay?"

""Yes, please, I'd like very much for you to come with me."

"First, we'll pray.  "Father God, we call on you, the Holy Trinity, and your Angels to guide and protect us.  May we enter this place covered with the blood of Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, and protected by the full armour of God.  May Satan flee at our advance.  In the mighty name of Jesus Christ our Risen Saviour and Lord.  Amen

"Amen", I echo, feeling suddenly invigorated and full of joy.  "Let's go..."

The Peacock 338

 "And where do you fit in all this, Aaron?  How can you cope, living between two different worlds."

"It wouldn't be easy, but for the fact that I truly live in the one, and simply, through my imagination, visit the rest of you in this one.  Right now, I am really at home in my apartment, in front of my laptop, not having a clue what I am going to write next."

"What would be the chances of me writing you?"

"Maybe you are.  Maybe we're writing each other.  Or rather, we are all being written, and simply we are transcribing what is already there.  We are simply documenting."

On my left, I notice a small break in the trees, and something strangely familiar.  I slow the car for a closer look." 

"What is it?" asks Aaron.

"That clearing, with the shack in the middle.  I was there today, this morning." I stop the car at the side of the road.

"It looks like a cabin.  Did you go inside?"

"Almost.  But the whole area felt really creepy, and I really felt unwell from going there.  When I returned to the house, on the verandah, Carl performed a rite of exorcism on me, and I felt better."

"He performs exorcisms, you say", muses Aaron.  "Well, that will explain a thing or two."

"Such as..."

"Why he just got drunk."

"You mean..."

"He was probably still in an exalted state, I could actually see it all over him, and the alcohol was to ground him somehow."

"Yes, that does make sense..."

The peacock 337

" Oh yes, and early the next morning one of the brothers saw you naked, and in fact, followed you to your bedroom when you were leaving the bathroom.  Nothing untoward happened between you.  That would be George, the Filipino guy."

I am quiet and flabbergasted, and really have to struggle at finding an answer with which to dignify all this now coming from Aaron.

"How did you find out all this?"

"It just gets revealed to me.  I sit in front of my laptop, and hey presto, out it comes."

"That is truly amazing.  And truly creepy."

"Well, now you can say you have a friend who knows you very very well.  Oh, and should I tell you about your ex wife, Greta and your young brother-in-law, Erik."

"That is truly enough for me, and yeah, I believe you.  What about Father Griffin?"

"What about him?"

"Have you really known him, on the other side, I mean."

"In rather a different form.  His other name was Donald Dodman, and he never did find redemption, unlike Robert.  He just got worse and worse, left the priesthood, left the church, got married to some poor loser young enough to be his grandson, then croaked.  Altogether, a miserable piece of work, who hurt an awful lot of people.  A complete narcissist and a likely sociopath."

The Peacock 336

 "This could all be one big dream right now that we are both in", say I.

"Not going to argue."

"what are you doing right now?  I mean, where you live?

"Well, I am back at my laptop, writing us, and eating fresh strawberries."

"I love strawberries.  Especially with whipped cream."

"Not I", says Aaron.  The sugar in the whipped cream makes the berries taste sour.  I just like them on the hoof."

"How did you conceive the idea for this writing project?"

"It just came to me one night.  And I was wanting to write something new for my friend , Alonso.  He lives in Colombia and we do language exchange.   We read together my first novel which is all published on my blog, as part of his English practice, and he seemed to enjoy it so much that I thought I would try something new for both of us.  So, anyway, I had this sense of this humongous rambling mansion in the mountains by the Fraser Valley, and you had arrived there the night before on retreat, so the whole thing is written from your perspective, first person, so to speak."

"My perspective?  But how can you possibly get inside my head like that?"

"Well, first, let's test it out and see if I have been successful.  For example, on your first morning, before breakfast, you wandered out in the back by the southern magnolia tree, and there you saw a peacock perched on one of the branches."

"Go on."

"After you had that meltdown during dinner, Carl went to visit you in your room, where you told him about your many adventures with Father Griffin, for example, when you baited him into trying to buy your, er, services, as a way of blackmailing him, and how you returned home to your dad with the hundred bucks you scammed off him, I think you were seventeen, and how you gave your dad the money, then he phoned Father Griffin who, already busted, came by to retrieve his cash.  Then you were talking about your friend Kenney, who used to work as a transvestite hooker, and had also been studying environmental sciences in university..."

The Peacock 334

 "I suppose you are all familiar with the Collective Unconscious", Aaron says.

"Basic Jung", says Carl.

"Well, it seems to be more complex than being a mere repository of all the millennia of human experience and knowledge.  There would appear to be an incredibly complex network or web of which the electronic worldwide web is but a pale and amateurish imitation."

"And that's where you get your ideas?" Sarah asks.  "and that is where we all really live, and then you just dip in from time to time and write something down about us?"

"Except for one minor little detail."

"Which is?" say I.

"Quite simply that whatever dimension that I happen to be living in, well, there just might be someone from your side of the fence writing about me or someone else, or maybe in an entirely different dimension, but we are all so similar as to be almost completely identical."

"How much acid did you take when you were a kid", asks Carl.

"Enough."

"You can say that again" retorts Carl, "And by the way, I think I'll be safe behind the steering wheel now,."

"Time to go?" says-asks Sarah.

"If nobody else minds" say I, "I'm going to go get my car out of parking and drive back alone."

"Afraid you won't otherwise get back alive?" says Carl.

"No", say I, "but now that both Robert and Douglas have been despatched of, I think I should be allowed to drive in my own car again."

"Mind if I come with you?"  Aaron says.

"Of course., come."

The Peacock 335

 We are just leaving the town.  It is nice being behind the steering wheel again.  The town quickly gives way to forest and the green is so intense I can barely look at it.

"So you are writing us".

Aaron replies, "Think of me as a resident historian."

"You're not making this up?"

"It's already there.  I just simply think of you guys and it all sort of unfolds."

"So, what is going to happen when we get back to the mansion."

"We're going to know that once we arrive."

"You don't premeditate anything?"

"How can I premeditate what I don't have any control over?" says Aaron.

"Do you dream a lot?"

"Vividly.  You?"

"It's like living in two different realms, for  me."

"Me too."

"Aaron, tell me something, please?"

"Sure."

"Could we be dreaming about each other?"  Right now, I mean?""

"Who knows?"

The Peacock 333

 "I took them out a long time ago."

"but we didn't see you do it". says Carl

"Because they are in my apartment.  You might also notice that suddenly I am wearing a different shirt."

"How did that happen, " says Carl.

"Well, I don't want to smell bad, so of course I am going to change my clothes from time to time.  In my apartment of course.  By the way, Carl, have you and Melissa happened to notice that I never seem to sleep in my bedroom in the mansion?"

"Because you spend all your nights in your apartment.  Across the divide", says Carl.  "And we are supposed to believe that you are not bullshitting."

"But how else are you going to explain the magical appearing and disappearing earplugs, or the shirt that suddenly changes itself."

"So, how are we supposed to explain it?" says Sarah.

"You could start by trying to explain what is exactly meant by the creative imagination", says Aaron.

"Why, it's how we make things up?" asks Sarah.

"But where does it all come from."

"Out of our heads?"

"Like the goddess Athena suddenly sprang out of the head of her father Zeus."

"I see you know your Greek mythology", says Aaron.

"And I understand she gave him one whopping headache..."

The Peacock 332

 "Is there also an isle of Woman", says Carl sardonically.

"How about isle of Persons", says Sarah indifferently.

"In Mexico there is an Isla Mujeres, or Island of Women", says Jesús.

"I was there once", says Sarah.  "Tourist Trap."

"So what are you doing right now, Aaron?" asks Carl.

"I'm sucking on some semi sweet chocolate chips with a glass of milk."

"What day is it now?" I ask.

"Friday.  Another day has past."

"So fifteen minutes here is twenty-four hours where you live?"

"and sometimes vice-versa."  Aaron looks carefully at all of us, then adds, "You know, you don't have to believe me...Not if you don't want to."

"Dude", says Carl, "You don't have to worry about  a blessed thing.  You know some of the weird shit that already goes on where we live.  I'm giving you the full benefit of the doubt.  hey, what happened to your earplugs..."

The Peacock 331

 "Okay, but give me a minute to organize my thoughts.  My neighbour in the apartment upstairs has been skipping around the last three hours like a happy elephant high on meth, and maybe she is, but this is maddening."

"Does it happen often?" asks Sarah.

"She goes through periods.  Lately she's been more of a pain than usual, but then she settles down for a few days.  I think it's drugs or mental illness or both in her case.," says Aaron.

"How long have you been wearing those earplugs?" says Carl.

"I just put them in."

"But you can still hear us okay", say I.

"That's because they are only effective on my side of the divide between us, but some things are going to overlap."

"You still want us to believe that you are at home in your apartment and you are writing us", says Carl.

"Well, because I am."

"Wait a minute",he says.  "Where you are, right now, what date is it?"

"Thursday, 15 July, 2021."

"Here it is Wednesday, May 5, 2021.  "When did you start writing us?"

"December 16 2020.  I told you that time is different between our two dimensions."

"But everything is also so similar.  How can this be", asks Jesús.

"Quantum mechanics", says Sarah.  "Has another day since passed for you?"

"Yes, and I just had some cheese.  Strong cheddar from Isle of Man."

The Peacock 330

 "Are you blushing, Carl?" says Aaron. "oh, you are!  Look at his face turn cherry red!" and now we are all laughing again and so is Carl, but indeed now very red in the face.

"Nothing really happened, actually.  He asked Stella some questions, but seemed rather too focused on the fact that she still had her dick.  Then he wanted to know about what I did with my various tricks, but didn't seem to believe me when I said I was retired.   Then he asked me, with Stella's permission, if we could go up in one of her spare bedrooms for him to try me out.  I refused, and actually, I got so grossed out, that I got up and left."

"You turned down sex with Dan Savage?" says Tommy.

"And the following week he wrote a very nasty column about me.  Vindictive old queen."

"And one more time a whole sentence just jumped and inserted itself in the previous paragraph.  This laptop is so frustrating!" says Aaron.

"I could have a look at it when we get home", Carl says.

"No, that one is in my apartment, where I am still struggling over it at this very moment, while simultaneously finishing my cup of coffee with you guys out here in the Toolies.  The spellcheck is also pretty lame."

"Shall we head back soon?" says Sarah..

"Wait a minute", Carl says.  Weren't you going to tell us something about how your ministry got started, and then the conversation went totally sideways.?"

"

The Peacock 329

 "This is really nuts," says Jesús.

"Are you serious?" says Sarah.  "You really believe that you are writing us?"

"I am writing all of you.  Right here on my pesky little laptop that makes the letters jump all over the page."

Carl says, "So you can write whatever you like about us.  We are your own special creation.  Like you are God."

"Oh, hardly.  I'm just a scribe.  You guys all do and say what you want.  I'm just the fly on the wall, recording for posterity."

"And nothing else?" I say.  "how can you possibly be in two places at once, where within twenty minutes or so another full day has already passed where you live?  Quantum mechanics?"

"Or it could be magic, for all I know, or care, and right now I am about to get another tiny piece of the Scottish cheese.  I think that if they sprinkled a lot of  this on top of a haggis and broiled it at a high temperature, the haggis might be palatable.

"Haggis melt", says Tommy.  "I love it.  maybe with bean sprouts and extra soy sauce."

Everyone is laughing.

"Have you cut the cheese yet?" Sarah says.

"Wait a sec'.... yes, it´s in my mouth now.  but, Carl was going to tell us all about his meeting with Dan Savage..."

The Peacock 328

 "There isn't much to tell", says Carl. "It was actually just the day before my mom tracked me down at Stella's in Amsterdam.  I came over to put in some time watching the place while her regulars came and went and there was this guy, an American visiting at the kitchen table.  It turns out it was Dan Savage and, yes, he was doing research, and was wanting to interview both of us for one of his columns."

"And then what happened?" says Aaron, with a wicked grin.

"Are you still eating your cheese from the Isle of Man"" Carl asks.

"Tonight it is a very old, orange Scottish cheddar."

"Isn't that a lot of cheese you're eating?" says Sarah.

"You mean, for a man my age", says Aaron.  "The isle of Man extra old cheddar was last night.  Tonight it is some of the finest cheddar from Scotland.  And at least they got their cheese right.  Almost all the rest of the food from that country is not fit for human consumption."

"What is the national food of Scotland?" asks Jesús.

"Haggis", say I.  "One of the most revolving substances to ever enter the human mouth.  

"Hey", says Tommy, giggling, "I'm Chinese, we have a reputation for eating almost anything that grows, walks, crawls, swims, squirms or flies, and even that I wouldn't even touch with my worst chopsticks."

"So, what other cheese are you going to eat tonight?" says Carl.

"I'm about done", says Aaron.

"Two different cheeses in the same night?"says-asks Sarah.

"Last night I had the cheese from the Isle of Man."

"But you just said..."say I.

"Oh", says Aaron.  "I ought to tell you that time works very differently between our dimensions.  An entire day has past since we started talking about this ten minutes ago.  I am back again at my computer..."

"

"

The Peacock 327

 "And you are going to tell it now", says Aaron.

"Ah Mom", says Carl, "Do I have to?"

"Every last detail, young man."

Sarah says, "I'm not sure if I'm ready for it."

"I will keep it family friendly", says Carl.

Aaron says, "Dan Savage doesn't have a single family friendly bone in his body."

"By the way", says Carl to Aaron", where are you right now?"

He replies, "besides sucking back my third cup of coffee in this roadside diner?" 

"Are you still writing us?"

"Right now, I am seated at my desk in my little subsidized apartment in front of my laptop.  I just finished watching part of a documentary in Spanish about the wildlife of the Peruvian Amazon, and before that I saw on Dailymotion a vintage episode of the Avengers in black and white from 1965."

"I love that show", Carl says.  

"I used to watch it when I was a kid", says Aaron.  "It's a classic."

"What else were you just doing?" says Jesús.

"I was nibbling on a piece of vintage white cheddar from the Isle of Man."

"Sounds really yummy?" says-asks Sarah.  "Where do you buy it?"

"No Frills."

"They actually sell decent cheese?"

"Lately, yes, but Carl was going to tell us all about his...er...meeting with that famous sex columnist from Seattle..."

The Peacock 326

 "What was that word he called us, your uncle, I mean", says Carl.

"Guailo", says Tommy.  "It's a nasty Cantonese slulr for white people. We still use it a lot.  Translates, loosely, as white ghost guy or foreign devil."

"I have heard that word before", says Sarah, "And you know, it is kind of offensive?"

"It's only a word", says Carl.  "And really, when people use it among themselves, it's more for purposes of ingroup identity.  Like the way a lot of rappers use the word Nigger."

Sarah let's out an audible gasp of horror.  "That is really offensive?" she says in her question tone.  "Can't you just say N-word?"

"I just said the N-word", says Carl, laughing."

"Don't listen to him,  he's pissed", says Aaron smiling.

"Right now, maybe", says Carl, "But tomorrow, you are still going to be ugly."

"Sir Winston Churchill," says Aaron.

"You know your history."

"But you know", say I, "He does have a point .  About the N-word being used for ingroup identity.  kind of like how Dan Savage used to start each letter in his column with "Hey Faggot."

"Then he quit doing that after a while", says Aaron.

"How do you guys know about that filthy mouth gay sex columnist?" says Sarah, still indignant.

"The same way that you must know about him, dear, " says Carl.  "By the way, I met him once."

"No kidding"

"In Amsterdam.  He was doing research.  But that's another story..."

The Peacock 325

 Out comes the man who served us yesterday, lean, somewhere in his sixties, with a lazy, rather shuffling, but very graceful shuffling walk, as though he is dancing the cumbia. I know now why he didn't seem Chinese to me.  He may be Chinese, genetically, but this man is Latin American to the core. He is Venezuelan   He is wearing a ballcap and a light red and yellow plaid shirt underneath his stained white apron.  

"Hello.  I am Carlos.", he says smiling broadly. 

We each name ourselves, then Carlos focusses on Jesús.  "Así, tu eres colombiano".  "so, you're Colombian."

"Y tu eres venezolano", dice Jesús, smiling broadly, or "and you are Venezuelan."

"También soy chinito"

"What did he just say?" asks Sarah.

Carlos directs on Sarah his smiling eyes.  "I said I am also  Chinaman."

"You mean to say you are Chinese Venezuelan", she corrects.

"No", says Carlos, giggling impishly, "I am a Chinaman.  I hate political correctness.  You know, you Guailo are so sensitive about everything.  You only have to smile and you guys get offended!"

"Yes", Sarah says, "But to many Asians that is offensive."

"Especially when they´re  Korean or Japanese", says Carlos, laughing out loud.  Then he straightens up, as though standing to attention, the laughter and the smile quickly fading away.  "Very nice to meet you people.  I have to get back to work.  Come again, and maybe we can visit longer."

 

The Peacock 324

 "So, you run this place with your dad?", Sarah asks.

"With my dad and my uncle.

"Your uncle is here too?"

"He served you guys yesterday."

"You were here?" say I.

"I saw you from the kitchen.  I was cooking yesterday.  Today my uncle and I trade places."

"And he's from Venezuela?"

"My mother was still a baby in Hong Kong when my grandparents emigrated to Venezuela.  For reasons she still will not disclose, she stayed in Hong Kong in the care of her grandparents.  For some reason, they would not allow her to go with them.   I think her health was really fragile or something."

So, is your dad here sometimes", Carl asks.

"Nah, he just stays home and rakes in the dough.  We're the exploited labour", Tommy says laughing.

"Do you do anything else, besides work here?" asks Carl

"Yeah.  I'm also a relationship counselor.  Hey, let  me introduce you guys to my uncle.  He turns and calls in the direction of the kitchen  "tío.  He aquí un colombiano y un gringo que habla buen español"

Jesús translates, "Uncle, I have here a Colombian and a Gringo who speaks good Spanish."

The Peacock 323

 "I have an auntie in Venezuela, mom's side of the family, and I lived with her a few years."

"de verdad viviste en Venezuela?" asks Jesús.

"Really did I live in Venezuela", Tommy translates.  "De verdad, mi buen amigo, cinco años y solo hablaba español por todos aquellos años."

Aaron translates, "That's right, my good friend, for five years and I spoke only Spanish during all those years."

"Tu también hablas español"" he says to Aaron, genuinely surprised.

"Hermano, lo hablo muchísimo.  Muchísimo."

Jesús translates "Brother, I speak lots of Spanish."

"Are there many Chinese living in Venezuela?", Sarah asks.  

"Más que podrías contar, querido.

"More than you could count, dear", translates Aaron.

"Chévere, dos hispanohablantes.  Chicos, que tal hablamos más pronto?" says Tommy, grinning enthusiastically.

"Cool" translates Jesús.  "two Spanish speakers.  Guys, how about we talk more soon?"

"I don't see why not", says Aaron.

The Peacock 322

 "This is a nice little diner", Aaron says. "How long have you been here?"

"Sixty years", says Tommy.  "Or say, about three generations.  My grandfather opened this place back in the early sixties.

"Did he come here from Hong Kong?" Sarah asks.

"I am fifth generation Canadian.  How about you guys?"

"I am from Colombia" says Jesús.

"I am from the Netherlands", says Carl.

"I am fourth generation Canadian on my mother's side", says Aaron, "And third generation on my father's side.  German and Scots ancestry."

"My mom was Mexican, she's gone now", say I, "And my dad is fourth generation Canadian, British, mostly English roots."

Sarah says, "My dad was born in Great Britain, Birmingham area, but his parents were refugees from Poland.  He met and married my mom in Winnipeg, who is Metis."

"French and native", says Tommy.

"How about your mom", asks Sarah.

Dad met her in Hong Kong forty years ago, and she came back here with him.  In fact, she is still, to this day, appalled that I don't speak one single word of Cantonese.  

"You speak only English", says Jesús.

"And Spanish..."

The Peacock 321

 "Are you children finished yet" says Sarah, now every bit the prim librarian.

"Wait, I have just one more for us" Aaron says.

"Shoot", says Carl.

"Mommy mommy, what happened to kitty cat?  Shut up and pass the soy sauce."

"That is not at all funny", says Sarah.  "And it is really downright racist."

"I think it's funny."  The voice belongs to Tommy, who is quite visibly Asian, standing over us with a full pot of coffee.  Then, faking a thick Cantonese accent, he says, "Mo' coffee fo' yo?"  And then he bursts into an unabashed giggle.

"You white people are so squeamish when it comes to not wanting to sound offensive", he says, pulling up an empty chair to join us.  "You know something, my wife is white, whiter than the rest of you put together, and boy did I have to teach her to stop dancing on eggshells.  It was my mom who helped break her of it."

"You are married to a white woman?" says Jesús, but I think only to assure himself that he heard correctly.

"I am married to a white woman.  And she is beautiful  And she is a musican  And she is going to be performing here later today, for our coffeehouse night this evening.  You guys coming?"

"We'll talk about it later", says Carl glancing at all of us.

"And by the way.  If you think white people are racist, you should have seen my mom when she first met her future daughter-in-law..."

The Peacock 320

 "Hey Sarah", says Aaron.  "How about some Mommy Mommy jokes.

"Not on my phone" she says primly, taking it off the table.

"We can look them up on mine", says Carl, producing his own smartphone.

"Traitor", says Sarah.

Carl begins:

• Mommy, Mommy! Why are we pushing the car off the cliff?
• Shut up son, you'll wake your father.

• Mommy, Mommy! The milkmans here;
• have you got the money or should I go out and play?

• Mommy, Mommy! Can I get pregnant?
• Of course not dear, you are only seven years old.
• OK boys, same again...

• Mommy, Mommy! Why is Daddy bent over and crying?
• Shut up and eat your hot dog!

• Daddy, Daddy! What is queer?
• Shut up and unhook my bra.

• Mommy, Mommy! Daddy's running down the street!
• Shut up and step on the gas!

• "Come upstairs, son, like a good boy."
• "No, Mommy, you'll only throw me down again."

• Mommy, Mommy! My head hurts!
• Shut up and get away from the dart board!

• Mommy, mommy, can I lick the bowl?
• Shut up and flush.

• Mommy, mommy, I hate you
• Shut up or I'll eat you.

The Peacock 319

 "Okay" says Sarah, no picking on ethnic minorities

"How about a lightbulb joke?" say I

Aaron replies, "How many mice does it take to screw in a lightbulb."

"How many?" says Sarah.

"Just two", he replies, with a wicked grin.

"You're cut off!" Carl says, laughing.

"How much beer did you have, anyway?" say I

"I'm a cheap drunk", says Aaron, smiling.  Then he says, "What´s black and white and red all over?"

"A newspaper?" says Sarah.

"A sunburned zebra", say I.

"A nun falling down a flight of stairs", says Carl

"ew, that's sick" says Sarah.

"You ain't heard nothin' yet, kiddo", says Carl.

Jesús is still smiling.

"a panda with scabies", says Carl

"Gross", says Sarah.

"A race riot", says Aaron.  "Or how about three nuns in a bar fight."

"A chess match with a sore loser", says Sarah.

"A penguin in a blender", says Carl, laughing again.

"

The Peacock 318

 

"Time for some jokes", Carl says.

"Family friendly jokes, please?" implores Sarah.

"Adams Family friendly"

"How about knock knock jokes?"says Aaron

"You start", say I.

"Knock knock"

"Who´s there?"

"Crimea

"Crimea who?"

Aaron sings, "Cry me a river, cry me a river, I've cried a river over you."

"Oh please!"

"Oh  please who?"

"Oh please you!" says Carl laughing.

"Here's another one", Aaron says.  It's the  post thermonuclear war knock knock joke.  "Knock knock".

"Who´s there" says Carl.

There is silence.  Aaron sits stoically, resisting the little grin that is trying to take form on his pursed lips.  Soon we are all laughing.

"Have you heard the Polish knock knock joke?" says Aaron

"No, how does it go", says Sarah.

"You start."

"Okay.  Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

After she clues in that she has been duped, Sarah collapses in a paroxysm of helpless laughter.  "I happen to be half Polish, you asshole", she almost squeals while laughing with her head bowed, shaking all over....

The Peacock 317

 "You mean you are writing about us?" says Carl.  "You mean, that you write down everything that has happened here, after it's happened?"

"No", says Aaron, "I am writing about you while it all happens."

"Huh?" says Carl.

"Right now", says Aaron, "I am really seated in front of my laptop inside my little subsidised apartment in Downtown Vancouver, writing all of what we are doing right ow.  I am your author.  You are all my characters.  You are all my creation."

We are now enfolded all of us in one awkward and very uncomfortable silence.  I think we are all collectively afraid that Aaron just might be telling the truth. That we are but a parallel universe he uas been summoning into existence.

Tommy arrives balancing in his able and nimble hands five plates of pie, four apple, two with ice cream and one lemon meringue.  The lemon meringue is for Aaron.

"Aaron", says Sarah, whose apple pie is adorned with a fat white scoop of  vanilla ice cream  (Tell us this isn't true?  please?"

"I suppose I could lie.  But let me assure all of you, I have not merely invented you.  I have simply called you into existence.  And really, you all have always had existence, and now I just happen to be visiting you in your parallel universe."

"So, tell us something we don't already know", says Carl, scooping both ice cream and pie into his mouth.

Tommy returns with a full pot of coffee in one hand, and a tray balancing five pristinely white coffee mugs in the other...

The Peacock 316

 Cheetahs are affectionate, versatile, intuitive, observant, and receptive to new ideas (as long as they don’t contradict preconceived notions). This is a sign of deep thinkers with epic problem solving abilities. Both artsy and intellectual, they often feel misunderstood by their peers and society in general. Cheetahs question everything around them rather than simply accepting things as they are. Too often, though, they forget to question or analyze their own behaviors.

Despite a somewhat territorial nature, Cheetahs are sensitive individuals who prefer to avoid conflicts whenever possible. They have many positive traits, but they can also be judgmental, easily distracted, and socially unaware. They don’t have much of a middle-ground, and are often either “on” or “off”, meaning either funny, confident, and clever or depressed, self-victimized, and emotionally unstable

Aaron says, "Maybe the writer of this was recently divorced from a cheetah."

"Wouldn't surprise me", says I.

"She is right on about your being creative and intellectual", says Carl.

Jesús just sits there and smiles.  I can see the peacock feather tattooed on his neck.  Again I want to reach over with my right forefinger and touch it.

"Well" says Aaron, "She is right about the creative part.  You know, right now I'm writing a novel?"

"no, really?" says Sarah.  "What's it about?"

"It's all about you guys."