The Peacock 44

 "So, " Carl says, leaning forward, smiling.  I think that for him this is also an excuse to visit alone with me.  He seems to really like me, for some reason.  I find it hard to trust anyone who appears to like me, and Carl, I really do want to trust.  

"As Carol said today, a needle pulling thread."

"What do you think of her?"

"Did I tell you I saw her in concert, ten years ago?"

"No way!"

"In London, in the Royal Albert Hall."

"Never been there.  To London, yes, but not there.  What was she like?"

"Absolutely amazing. She played Rachmaninov's Third Piano Concerto.  And boy did she play!"

"I'm looking forward to hearing her perform here this week.  Talk about our good fortune, eh?"

"You said that like a real Canadian."

"Well, I've been here for quite a while.  What do you think of her?"

"That bitch is one brick shithouse!"

Laughing, Carl says, "You got that one right." He has a robust and very easy laugh, perhaps a bit forced.  He strikes me as someone who really does overkill.  He is already sincere and open, but works over hard at trying to persuade and assure everyone that he is sincere and open.

"How did she end up here?"

"Same as the rest of you."

?Father Griffin."

"We all seem to have Father Griffin in common."

"Will we see him here?"

"We expect he will appear for a cameo sometime next week."

"That was quite a number you and Aaron did on him today.  You say he actually endorses this character assassination."

"You are going to find that we're all pretty transparent here.  Robert really wanted everyone to have enough background about him in order to quell the illusions, since everyone seems to hold him in a lot of esteem.  It puts him on a pedestal, and makes it impossible for him to be of any real service to us.  And he really wants to be of service.  He feels called to this."

The sky is slowly darkening and the trees have become looming silhouettes towering like guardian spirits over this place.  In the gathering twilight.  Carl stares blankly in my direction.  I know what he's waiting for.  I'm not really sure how to begin.  I feel so embarrassed about what I did, and even more embarrassed by Carl's friendly solicitation, his clear and anxious need to be my friend.

"I will try to explain to you what happened at dinner tonight, but please be patient.  This isn't going to be easy..."