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."