Wednesday, 3 March 2021

The Peacock 88

 "Even though I didn't really feel like it, I went out with Kenny.  It was a nice place, the food was very tasty and plentiful, and for the Westside, the prices were very decent.  But he wouldn't stop chattering.  About everything.  I really had to work at reconciling the garrulous chatty queen with the university student he once was.  But he was apparently an anomaly wherever he went.  Working at a florist seemed somehow a better fit."

"Well", Carl says, "On key with the stereotype, anyway.  But I would know a thing or two about being an anomaly."

"How did you pull it off?" I ask.  "How did you ever pull it off?"

"Child of wealth and social status, male prostitution, fringe Christian community, journalism, and now this absurd mansion in the BC wilderness.  I mean, what could be more normal!"

"Exactly what I mean."  I am starting to yawn.

"Are you getting tired yet?  Oh my god it's after 11 and I have to be up at five.  Shall we call it a night?"

"Yeah, might as well", I say, yawning again.  "I wish we could just go on talking."

"We could try it again tomorrow night if you'd like."

"Yes, I like."

Carl catapults from the armchair, walks over to the bed, and gestures.

"Come on, get up, so I can give you a hug."

"Oh, alright, I guess", Feeling a little reluctant to have to budge.  I stand up, and Carl enfolds me in a strong, prolonged embrace.  Then he steps back, his hands on my shoulders.

"Thank you", I say.  "Thanks for everything."

"Thank YOU!" he says, smiling and heads for the door.  

"See you at breakfast"?

"Yes, indeed.  Good night."

I notice that he has left me with my laptop.  Perhaps they are relaxing the rules after all.  I reach for it, and click on my GMail.  There is one new email in the inbox.  I can't believe my eyes at first.  I look again.  I haven't heard of him in ten years.  It is an email from Greta's brother, Eric...

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