The Peacock 441

 "Just recently?"  say I.

"Very recently", he replies, then gently glares at me with warning and whispers, "Not in front of the children."

"Oh", say I following a brief pause  "Yes, I get it."

"No whispering at the table", grumbles Melissa.

"Big Mel to the rescue", says Carl.

"Don't you start", she says.  "I'm still on my first coffee."

"I'll wait then till you've finished your fourth", quips her brother, smiling.

"That would be better", she concurs.

"So Aaron", says Carl.  "You were just in Costa Rica.  For how long this time"

"About a month", he answers vaguely.

"And were you writing us there", he asks.

"I write you guys everywhere.  But now I'm at home again."

Carl, realizing that this is not the time for even his good natured brand of mischief, given that there are others present who know nothing about Aaron's interdimensional writing project, simply concurs, "And it is so utterly cool that you have found your home here among us"

"What are you writing about", says George with an ingratiating smile.

"Oh, this and that", replies Aaron, before stuffing his face with an extra large chunk of pannekoek.

The Peacock 440

 "Delicious", says Jesús, after pouring some of the Dutch syrup on his pannekoek and tasting it, but with caution, as though testing for poison.

"It reminds me a little bit of Arequipe."

"Which is?" Carol says."

"In Mexico", says Jeff, "They call it dulce de leche and it is delicious but super rich.  Best to have only a little bit.  I tried it once in Puerta Vallarta."

"When were you in Puerta Vallarta?" says George, as though challenging him.

"Years ago, before I entered seminary."

"You never told me"

"There's lots I haven't told you.  I have secrets that will be going with me to the crematorium.  "Say, Aaron, you've been down there a lot.  Ever visit Puerta Vallarta?

"I understand it's infested with Gringos.  I've spent most of my time down there in Mexico City."

"And Colombia", says Jesús, smiling.

"And in Costa Rica.  I was just there recently."

The Peacock 439

 "I have never had these kinds of.. what are they, crepes...or are they pancakes", says Carol, pouring a generous torrent of maple syrup over her pannekoek.

"They´re whole wheat pannekoeken" says Jennifer.

"Melissa says, "Brilliant adaptation of my grandmother's recipe."

"You mean Grandma's cook.  She never had to lift a finger in her life", says Carl.

"Details, details", mutters Melissa  "But you are right.  They were fabulously wealthy."

"Obscenely", says Carl.

"Don't start  We have them to thank for this beautiful house we are in."

Carl grows a little bit pale.  He almost says something, then refrains and fills his mouth with half a banana.

"I thought I'd tinker with the recipe a bit, for something a bit healthier but still every bit as delicious",  says Jennifer.

"Our number  one cook when we lived together in my house",says Maureen proudly.  

"She kept us alive", Sarah says, as though eulogizing her.

"What is this?" says Jesús, gesturing to the other cruet  

"Stroop", says Melissa.  "It's a Dutch specialty.  Try it."

The Peacock 438

 "Oh, there you are big brother", says Melissa in her customary flat tone, "So what dragged your sorry little ass out of bed this morning."

"Oh, nothing but the sweet smile and dulcet voice of my darling little sister", he says, reaching for the coffee and finding an empty chair with Carol, Francois and Sarah.

"Oh, you always did have a way with words", she says tonelessly. "That is why the men all love you."

"Oh, don't start", he mutters, loudly stirring his coffee with a musically tinkling spoon.  "What needs to be done?."

"Too late baby, it's just too late.  We're almost ready."  Only one of the pannekoeks seems a little bit scorched, otherwise, Jennifer has declared perfection.  Melissa picks up a huge serving plate loaded down with banana, pineapple, papaya and melon and kiwi and strawberries.  I pick up one of the platters laden with gigantic pannekoeks, languishing like monster crepes one on top of the other.  In the breakfast room, wait standing each behind a chair at the table, George, Jeff,  Maureen, Aaron, and Jesús.  I cannot quite make out the  theme of the conversation that we have all walked in on.  The morning sun streams in like a divine revelation through the French door windows, and, for this reason, there remains no question as to why the room has been appointed for the first meal of the day  Carl comes in carrying two small pitchers, one filled with maple syrup, and the other with a mysterious, probably Dutch, concoction.  He takes his place at the head of the table, and intones a gentle "Thank you, Jesus, for all and for all of us here", and we all resound in unison the Amén, then one by one we each take our seat and now begin together this gift of divine love, this gift of the new day together...

Thje Peacock 437

 "That is so like something out of Cosme´s journal", says Carol

"Cosme?" says Sarah.

"I don't suppose you were here when Jesús and Aaron were translating it from the Spanish for us", Francois says

"Oh, but I was the second time, just yesterday,  That is so bizarre.  But I must have forgotten  And I have to admit that my head doesn't feel very clear this morning", says Sarah.

"How is your coffee, dear?" says Carol, maternally, and I can tell, while watching the mixture sizzling and thickening in the giant skillet, that she has already adopted the younger woman as a kind of surrogate daughter.  They do seem very fond of each other.  Francois, too, seems to fit well with both of them, while being a man, but his presence is inordinately gentle, and I can hardly resist the desire to simply keep looking at him.

"I might benefit from a refill soon, but not right now", Sarah says.

I don't ordinarily find black men attractive or unattractive.  I think François is the first African I have ever really noticed, and he is truly beautiful.  I worry that I might be exoticizing him, but no, I think I just really really like this man.  

"Pay attention, Christopher", barks Melissa, "We don't want it to burn." And with her help I pry the giant pancake loose from the skillet which slides gently onto the large dinner plate she is holding.  
We have four such skillets going simultaneously, and we have fourteen of those buggers to cook.

The Peacock 436

 "I have had some pretty strange dreams in my time but this one really takes the cake."  She takes a prolonged bitter sip of her coffee, looks up and sighs openly.

"But darling", Carol purrs.  "Don't keep us in suspense.  Tell us please, about your dream.  All about it.  We're all ears."

"I don't even think it was a dream  He was right there, in the room with me."

"But who, darling.  Who?"

"This man."

"You had a gentleman in your room", says Francois with a sly little smile.

"I would hardly call him a gentleman.  He was tall, seated in the chair, dressed all in white  Like a robe really.  A strikingly handsome man, blonde, blue eyes, high cheekbones."

"You had a handsome gentleman in your bedroom last night", says Francois, giggling.

"I sat up in my bed and I wanted to say something, but lost my voice.  I was seized by complete, absolute panic" she asks.  "All he said, with a rather strange smile, was 'We are waiting for you. Sarah.  Remember the birds.'  Then I fell asleep, and didn't know anything till I woke up?"

The Peacock 435

 Carol pours Sarah a cup of coffee, which she seems to prefer to drink black and unsweetened.

"Nothing in your coffee, dear?" Carol says as though purring like a very contented cat.

"I take my coffee the same way I like to take life?"  " says Sarah, though in her asking question tone, she doesn't appear to sound very sure of herself.

"Black and bitter?" she asks, still purring.

"I prefer everything to be naked and unadorned.  I always want to get to the heart of things."

"But don't you like to enjoy yourself?"

Francois says "The truth can be very enjoyable."  They are seated in a cosy triangle of chairs, as though they have always been one very happy and contained little high school clique.  Sarah appears to absolutely luxuriate in the presence of Carol, with a light little smile resting on her lips, her dark  eyes twinkling like twin stars in the firmament.

"We were talking about dreams", says Carol, "Or about Francois' dreams", while I begin pouring the sweet golden batter onto the sizzling butter that has melted to perfection. "Do you have dreams, Sarah?"

"Yes, and I had a real doozy last night."

"Oh Darling, you must tell us all about it", says Carol.

The Peacock 434

 "I dream a lot about boats", he says.

"Boats.  How very interesting", Carol replies.  "What kinds of boats?

"My most common dream", Francois says, "Is that I am sitting alone in a little skiff or rowboat, out on the high sea somewhere.  It is always calm and the water is as still as blue glass.  It is always a deep sapphire blue.  I always seem to have that dream in the mornings, and I always wake up right away."

"How do you feel when you wake up?"  The voice belongs to Sarah.  She is leaning over from behind Francois.

"Very good.  Very rested.  That is always for me a good dream.

"What color is the boat?" Carol asks.

"It´s always white.  A clean, pure, shining white.

"Are you a sailing enthusiast?" Carol asks

"I've never sailed in my life.  I can't even swim, so, no connection there.

"Jen", says Sarah,  "Is there anything I can  help with?"

"Maybe you could prepare the fruit."

"Too late", says Melissa, carrying in a bunch of bananas.  Then she says to Sarah, "You can still eat breakfast if all you do this morning is sit around and chat.  That's also important..."

The Peacock 440

Francois says, "What was the gender of the voice."

Carol pauses between sips of coffee, as though to give this a good hard think.

"I don't think I can answer that."

"The voice doesn't have a gender;"

"I don't know."

"Did you recognize the voice?" asks Francois

"No.  But I heard it before.  In another dream.  And it was also calling my name, but only once."

"Can you remember the voice."

"Now, no.  But when I am asleep.  I know that voice.  Yes, I know that voice."

"What do you imagine you are being told through those dreams."

"I think right now, I'm afraid to find out."  then she looks at Francois with a sly, sweet little smile.  "And how about you, Francois?  What kinds of dream  have you been having?"

The Peacock 432

 "Sleep well?" Francois asks Carol, while still gently stirring his coffee.

"Divinely", she says with a sweet rapt little smile, and she closes her eyes still smiling raptly and repeats as though intoning a spell, "Divinely."

"Sleep is divine", says Francois.  "Sleep is a gift.  A divine gift."  He takes his first sip of coffee, holds the warm liquid in his mouth, swallows, and says, "Sleep is a gift from God."

"I daresay that you are right", Carol says.

"Did you dream?" Francois asks, and hearing while eavesdropping that question, I know for a fact that Francois is no ordinary priest.

"I never dream"

"Never at all?"

"Well, almost never, I imagine.  Wait", she says, letting the cup pause just in front of her lips.  "There was something early this morning.  Someone was calling my name."

"Your full name?"

"Yes,  It was  a man's voice, calling softly at first, Carol Barlow-Meade.  Carol Barlow-Mead.  
Carol Barlow Mead.  Always three times in a sequence, and it got louder, and louder, and then receded into the background, and then there was silence..."

The Peacock 431

 "We can mix it with the yogurt", says Jennifer.  "Here, Christopher, why don't you?"

"How much milk?"

There are some two litre cartons in the big fridge", says Melissa.  "Use one of those."

"The whole thing?"

"To start, anyway", says Jennifer.  "I´ve never made this big a batch before, so we're playing it all by ear."

"I'll take care of the eggs", says Melissa.

"Coffee´s ready", says Carol.  "Everyone want a cup?"

"Double cream and no sugar", says Jennifer.

"Black and bitter", says Melissa.

"Why am I not surprised to here that", quips Carol.  Melissa appears unwilling to dignify that with a comment.

"Two sugars and just a little cream in mine", say I.

Francois has just silently crept in to the kitchen.  He pours himself a coffee, mixes in some milk, then sits at the table across from Carol.  He seems to be clearly enjoying this spectacle of  breakfast teamwork...

The Peacock 430

"Well, it is rather early to be thinking of any stories to tell, but I am certainly happy to help with coffee", says Carol.

"Not even one story?" I ask.

"After I've had my second coffee", she says.  "And only if you are good."

"How many eggs, Jennifer?" I ask.

"How many will we be feeding?"

"Us three", says Carol, "Melissa and Carl...the other two, Aaron and our young Colombian...both your friends, Jennifer, the black priest...the male couple...how many is that...Fourteen?"

"How many eggs do we have?" says Jennifer.

"Here are two flats of thirty each."

"One flat should do."

"Thirty eggs?  Isn't that a lot?" says Carol.

"Jennifer is adapting a Dutch recipe."  The voice belongs to Melissa, who has just slipped in like a silent cat, into the kitchen.  "They´re called pannekoek.  Think of a crepe on steroids."

"I´ve had those before", say I.  "They're pretty awesome.  Want some milk?"

The Peacock 429

 "What were you thinking of making?" Carol says.

"Melissa suggested pancakes", says Jennifer.

"Then pancakes it shall be", says Carol, getting up from the table.  She first checks on the coffeepot which is still being slowly filled by a trickle of dark brown liquid.   Then she goes to a group of cupboards.  "Where does she keep the mix?"

"I have my own recipe", says Jennifer.  "All made from scratch."

"You don't say?  I've never made pancakes before.  May I watch?"

"I can help", say I, and I reach underneath for a large porcelain bowl, an antique, light turquoise blue with a white interior.  It is beautiful, and  huge..  I set it on the counter.

"I use whole wheat flour, which we should have aplenty.  And yogurt, unless there is buttermilk around."

I open the fridge door.  "it's going to be yogurt."

"That should do."  

"What would you like me to do?" asks Carol, sounding almost a little bit peevish, like the little girl who is afraid of being left out.

"Serve coffee and tell us a story", says Jennifer.

The Peacock 428

 "So", says Carol, "What was Carl doing in your side of the house?"

"My side of the house"; I am scooping dark roast into the filter cone.  I am going to try for a full pot, anyway, not knowing who else might show up.

"Isn't his bedroom over in the other wing somewhere?"

"I'm actually sleeping in Carl's bedroom."

"Oh, come on!" Carol says, picking at her fingernails.  "You're only making that up."

"Not entirely.  That used to be his bedroom, when he was younger."

"What, I am afraid to ask, was he doing with you last night?"

"We were reading together."

"You don't say? And in your bedroom.  Well, his bedroom, I should imagine?"

"We've been doing it the past three nights."

"But is that really appropriate here. Him being the guest master, I mean"

Jennifer has just come in.  "Oh, good morning, you guys", she says with a bright smile.  "Are you going to help me make breakfast?"

The Peacock 427

 I am going barefoot after all.  I seem to be the only one up and about, and wonder about getting things ready for breakfast.  I don't see why not, and I already know my way around the kitchen.  Somewhat.  The only thing is, I don't know what Melissa has in mind, and perhaps I should wait for her.  I will make coffee.  I think I hear someone coming down the grand staircase, which isn´t far from the kitchen.  I expect Melissa, or maybe Carl, but no, it is Carol, dressed in a floor-length velour dressing gown, the same shade of crimson as Carl's underpants.  And it just bursts out of my mouth, "Good morning Carol, your lovely robe is the exact same colour as Carl's underwear."

"Good morning, Christopher.  And you know the colour of Carl's underwear...how?"

"I saw him just this morning on his way to the bathroom."

"Men are so immodest", she scoffs, seating herself at the table.

"I came out of the bathroom naked". I reply.

"That's enough information."  She holds her fist to her mouth as she yawns.  "Are you making coffee, darling?  How divine."

"Sleep well?"

"Oh beautifully.  And why are you barefoot?"

"Something different.  It's comfortable."

"As, I imagine, walking about naked..."

The Peacock 426

 I cannot get back to sleep, but I don't want to just lie here either.  The bedsheet is a lovely shade of crimson maroon, and the blanket is a rich dark blue, sapphire, or dare I say peacock.  Like the colour of the shirt worn by Kenny's stalker.  Where have I seen that shirt before?  The bedspread is white, with a rich texture of woven thread covering it throughout.  I cannot comfortably lie here.  I have to get up.  Now. Right now, and suddenly I am standing by the bed.  Usually I just lie there, one or two, two hours, three hours longer if I feel like it.  Today, no.  I have to get moving, and I don't even know why I am suddenly so restless.  I have had enough sleep.  Just enough and didn't wake up once in the night, not even to go to the bathroom.

A quick shower, followed by a quick shave, brushing my teeth and then returning naked to my room, or Carl's room.  And I still don't care who sees me naked.  Clean shirt, just this white T shirt should do.  I am not dressing to impress.  And my very faded blue jeans.  Not fashionably torn.  I hate that look.  And now the sun is fully risen and the day outside is a riot of colour and bird noise.  No socks today.  Sandals should do just fine, but really I want to go barefoot.  Would anyone mind?  There is only one way to find out.   

I open the door, and there is Carl, dressed only in the briefest red bikini briefs that are almost identical in shade to my bedsheets, and he clearly has an erection,  I try not to notice and he smiles sweetly with a gentle "Good morning, Christopher", as he heads into the bathroom, leaving the door open as I hear him already peeing into the toilet.  Well, where else would he pee...?

The Peacock 425

 It is 5:34.  I seem to have had enough sleep.  Maybe just enough.  The quiet drama of the moonlight has given way to the operatic grandeur of the rising sun, a stain of copper  pouring itself on the floor in blood  infused with molten gold.  I had dreams, I am certain I had dreams, but none of the many strangers that people my dreams is going to come forward to self-identify. this bed always feels just a little too comfortable.  It is a single bed, not especially narrow, but just right for one lonely guy to summon forth his dreams and night visions.  

Through the open window the singing birds fill the morning air with their sublime music, and all is well in the world, except, and I don't know what it is, but something seems to be evading me, and I think it was a dream, but I really don't know right now.  I feel surprisingly alert for so early in the morning,  I do have time to go back to sleep, or just lie here and observe that stain of sunlight on the floor as the copper fades and brightens to gold and the gold to gleaming platinum.

Yes, there was someone in my dream this morning.  I only wish I could identify him.  This would be someone I know, but do I know this person waking or sleeping?  Or maybe both.  But I don't feel ready to move yet.  Maybe by just lying here I can summon him forth...

The Peacock 424

 It is taking me longer than usual to fall asleep, and I can understand why, with all the excitement today, plus this latest revelation or two from reading Kenny's diary with Carl tonight.  I almost want to turn on the light and go through his journal to see what other clues he has left, especially about that elegant stranger who appeared to be stalking him.  And he already seemed to know this guy, but where?  A handsome man dressed in beige slacks and a peacock blue dress shirt.  Very elegant,  and handsome.  But, where have I seen that image before?  Because I have seen those slacks and that shirt worn by a handsome and elegant looking man.  I am sure of this, but I cannot think of where...

I must have dozed off.  Microdream?  A peacock.  That's all I can remember.  I forgot to close the curtains, the moonlight is shining in and I think I just want to lie awake and look at the soft moonlight that brightens the floor under the window.   And again, Francois´ smile.  That man has a beautiful smile.  Am I falling in love?   With a priest?  I thought I had a crush on Carl, but he is really my brother, and I love him like I would love my own brother, if I had a brother.  Well, I am an only child, but I love Carl, even if I have only known him for less than four days.  I am turning into a lump of soft dough in the hands of others, it would appear.  But that has always been one of my more inconvenient traits.  I do fall in love easily.  Way too easily, and that moonlight is just so pleasantly dazzling...

The Peacock 423

 It hasn't been so hard after all to pull myself off the bed in order to use the bathroom , but I really do have to pee.  I don't know why I so often put off such a necessary, and should I say, pleasurable function.  I sometimes like to sit on the toilet and pee, but not tonight.  Too tired and too lazy.  I suppose I could spend more time on my teeth, after all those chocolate chips, and I likely should be flossing, but just a simple brushing, then off to bed.  And now, there is Francois, waiting outside the bathroom, his white towel draped over his arm, and his equally white smile just dazzling the air around him.  He looks so much happier already, just following the ordeal he escaped from.

"Already for bed, now?" he says, like an affectionate dad or mom, and against my will I respond smiling to his smile.

"Yeah, I'm pretty bushed."

"Me too, he says, passing me into the bathroom.  "See you at breakfast."

"Goodnight", say I as I hear the door close behind him.  Then I close my door behind me, my borrowed door to my borrowed bedroom, where Carl used to sleep when he was younger.  It doesn't take me long to strip down to my shorts and crawl into bed..  I pull towards me the novel, the Four-Gated City, but really cannot focus that well to read, so instead I am turning off the light, and thinking suddenly of Francois, his dazzling smile, and how much I am coming to like him.....  

The Peacock 422

"Melissa just might stuff you in the trunk instead", say I

"After she's made my head the hood ornament."

"She might not come", say I

Francois says,"It might be that you going off to the diner also gives her a much coveted rest from her darling big brother."

"Touche", Carl says.  "Well, if you two gentlemen don't mind, I am going to trundle off to bed.  But I'm super tired so I think I'm going to sleep again in the same room down the hall.  I really don't know why my great granddad had to go and build such a big fucking house."

"Oh, listen to that, will you", says Francois, chuckling.

"Yeah, you should be so lucky." say I.

Carl stands up, and gives us each a warm hug, then wanders out into the corridor.

François, getting up, says, "well, I really don't want to keep you awake any longer, Christopher.  Mind if I retire?"

"Okay", say I feeling simultaneously relieved and abandoned.  I remain on the bed as my new friend finds his way to the door, stops to wave, then steps out, gently shutting the door behind him...

The Peacock 421

 "That is downright creepy", says Carl

"I could look for more entries."

"I think it's rather late", says Francois.

"Oh my God," says Carl, looking at the clock radio.  "it's already past 11.  Franois, come with us for lunch tomorrow.  Please."

"I would be delighted", says Francois.  "At what time?"

"Whenever I can get away from my darling little sister.  She is the one who really runs this place, eh?"

"Why not invite her along?" says Francois.

"What!  Are you serious?"

"Don´t you think she'd be delighted to come?"

Say I, "I think the diner is Carl's refuge...from everything."

"Especially from your sister?" says Francois, grinning.  "If you don't mind, tomorrow, I am going to ask her to come with us."

"Oh, if you insist", says Carl.  "There should be room for her in the trunk..."

The Peacock 420

 What was that about?" asks Carl.

"Do you know something about this?" says Francois.

"Nothing.  He never mentioned this person."

"What´s in the next entry?"

"It's the following day.  Let's see.  This is interesting.  

"I saw him again today.  He followed me.  All the way through Stanley Park.  It started in the trails, he appeared at first to be lingering, looking for someone to pick up, then he began walking behind me.  not far, about a hundred feet.  Always adjusting his pace to mine.  I'd speed up.  So would he.  I would slow down.  So would he.  I would stop.  So would he.  This went on for an hour.  Finally, near the aquarium, I turned around and approached him.  He was very well dressed, in beige slacks and a peacock blue dress shirt.   He stood in front of me, just three feet away.  I was going to confront him.  To ask him why was he following me.  To get his name.  To insult him, but I was speechless.  He looked at me and smiled, in a way that was both warm and ironical.  and said nothing.  And I couldn't speak.  I stood there, staring stupidly at this incredibly handsome, beautifully dressed stranger, unable to speak.  He smiled again, then walked away in the other direction...

The Peacock 419

 Francois is just getting up to leave.

"You don't have to go if  you don't want to", says Carl.

"I just thought that you two might want to continue reading your friend's journal", he says, looking at me.

"Actually, I was hoping to share some of it with you", say I.

"Are you sure?"  Francois is supported by his arms, but hasn't quite left the chair.

"Never hurts to get a second opinion", says Carl.

Francois lets himself land back in the chair again, but still sitting alert, as though the slightest provocation could get him to leave.

"Here is the next entry", say I.  "He appears to have not written anything for over a month  Here it's already August 15.  "Anyway, it looks like a short entry.  Shall I read it?"

"Fire away", says Carl.

"I didn´t think I'd run into him again.  I was just walking through the mall at the new library downtown, and there he was, standing in front of the main entrance, as though he was lost and thoroughly enjoying it.  I really didn't want him to see me, and I don't know if he saw me or not.  I thought he had gone away, disappeared somewhere, but his kind never entirely goes way.  Rather like smallpox, almost eradicated, but never quite entirely.  But this time I was not about to run away scared.  I actually approached him, tried to get his attention, standing just three feet away, and he just stood there as though I wasn't even present, like a department store mannequin but even more absent..."

The Peacock 418

 Francois pauses, then answers with a slight tinge of hesitancy, "I'm alright."

"It's been quite a day, eh?"

"Quite a day indeed."  Then a mischievous smile brightens his face.  "I hear you got drunk today."

"That I did."

"Was he funny?" Francois asks me.

"Hilarious."

"Where were you guys?"

"In this roadside diner", say I. "Do you know the place."

"I don't think I've been there before."

"You should come with us tomorrow", Carl says.   "The burgers are great"

"So's the beer", say I.

"I´ll drink to that", says Carl.

"You'll drink to anything", say I...

The Peacock 417

 "What do you hope to find in your friend's journal?" says Francois.

"Ultimately, I would like to know how he really died."  I am very surprised I would say this.  I hadn't even thought it before.  

"You don't believe that that is how your friend really died?"

"I don't know.  But I did have some dreams about him, he seemed to want me to read his journal, and in the dream he even told me where it would be."

After a pause, Francois says, "That is very peculiar.  And the journal was exactly where he told you in the dream it would be."

"Exactly."

"And you had never once seen him put it there?"

"It was in Kenny's bedroom. I never went in there.  I mean, he never invited me there, and there seemed no reason for me to go in there, but we did often visit in my bedroom.  I mean as friends."  I feel myself wincing that I would even have to make that kind of distinction.

"Francois looks at me intently, then his gaze softens and a small gentle smile appears briefly on his face.

"You were very close", he says softly."

"Yes."

"And how are you doing this evening, Francois", says Carl...

The Peacock 416

 I glance at Carl, unsure how to answer Francois.  He winks at me.

"Kenny told me in a dream."

Francois gazes at me intently.  He doesn't speak at first.  Then he glances at Carl.

"Fascinating stuff", Carl says.

"Kenny died from suicide" say I.  "Jumped from the Lion's Gate Bridge.  He was only thirty-five."

"That is so tragic", says Francois, almost in a whisper.

"He lived with us, with my dad and me, for around five years.  He was studying environmental science at UBC."  I feel suddenly very protective of my friend's memory.  I don't know why, since Francois is someone I instinctively feel I could trust.  I almost never feel so strongly positive about someone I have only just met.  But first Carl, and now also Francois.

"Was he troubled?"

"Yes", say I.  Very troubled.

"He was a drag queen sex worker", blurts Carl, to whom I cast a very poisonous glance.  He seems to want to ignore it.

"And an environmental science student", says Francois, but without irony.  

The Peacock 415

"We haven't been disturbing you, I hope", say I.

"No, no, not at all", says Francois as he slowly moves towards the empty chair.  He may need a little time to make himself comfortable.  I sense a very shy and very courteous man.  I already like him.  

"Feeling left out?" says Carl, smiling over his usual lack of tact.

"Frankly, yes, I was..  But if this visit is private", and he appears poised to leave.

"Stay where you are", says Carl.  "Everyone's family here.  As far as I'm concerned you re welcome everywhere in this house provided the bathroom door isn't already locked."

"Chocolate chips?" and I pass Francois the half empty bag.  He accepts, pulling out a small handful of chocolate chips that he slowly puts in his mouth.

"What are you guys up to?"

"Chris is reading from the journal of a friend of his who passed away a few years ago."

"I'm so sorry to hear that".  And the way Francois says it, it is clear that he is genuinely sorry for my loss of Kenny.  I really like this guy.

"Kenny died a long time ago, back in 1996", say I

"How did you end up with his journal", says Francois.

The Peacock 414

 "Did you know about this?" Carl asks.

"To my surprise, no one mentioned it to me.  I just knew that Kenny was having a difficult time with church, but didn't know all the details.  Sometimes he spoke to me about it, but not always.  He was really hot and cold that way.  One day he would be spilling out everything to me, especially when we were hiking in the forest, but then for days, weeks even, nothing.  His moods were often hard for me to fathom, and some mornings when he came down for breakfast, I really didn't know what to expect."  

We seem to have both become weary of the chocolate chips, which lie on the desk next to Carl like something desolate and no longer loved.  The night is now fully dark outside and soundless.  

"He must have been difficult to live with at times."

"Usually he was okay.  Like, Kenny was never miserable or offensive or anything like that.  But there were times it was so clear that he didn't want to be bothered, that we would give him all the space he needed,  It wasn't difficult at all.  And besides, we're both alike in some ways."

There is a gentle knock on the door.  "Come in", I say.

The door opens slowly and François pokes his head in.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you", he says, glancing at Carl.

"Not at all", say I, gesturing to the one empty chair in the room...