The Peacock 96

 "This is just my second day here. It's this enormous mansion in the mountains."

"It sounds wonderful.  How long are you there for", Erik asks me."

"At least for a month."  He looks a bit anxious.

"When do you plan on coming?"

"I was thinking of June 2 or so,  I haven't booked my flight yet.  I could wait till sometime in July."

"I´ll keep you posted."  I find Erik's English to be even more flawless than his sister's.  Academic flawless, with a faint hint of Oxbridge.  "So, you're studying social work.  What's your specialization?"

"I plan to write about the integration of racial minorities in Stockholm, and their socio-economic status and experience."

"Living here might help cure you of your racism."

"I beg your pardon!" he demands. 

"Well, in Canada, you should do very well with your thesis."

"In what way?" Erik asks."Swedes are not racist."

"Oh, yes you are.  And you know what, White Boy?  So are Canadians!"

"I just might hang up right now."

"Hey, Erik, it's nothing personal."

"But, how could you say that?"

"I'm sorry, I guess I am being tactless.  But when you spoke of Mehmet as not being Swedish..."

"But he is a Turk.  He could never be a real Swede."

"Because..."

"He wasn't born here..."

"Well, in that case, I'm not Canadian..."

"What do you mean?"

"My mother, who died many years ago, is Mexican.  My Father, who died last year, is American."

"I didn't know that.  I'm so sorry, Christopher..."

"Its alright," but I am lying a bit and I can hear myself sighing, and now suddenly all I want to do is hug my ex brother-in-law...

 

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