The Peacock 501

 "Carol", says Sarah, "What were you playing this morning.  It was just incandescent!"

Carol looks up from the wide slice of fresh apple pie almost completely concealed in a heap of white chocolate ice cream, and hesitates, as though caught off guard by the question.

"Oh, it was just nothing, dear.  Nothing", Carol says, returning her focus on her pie and ice cream, which with a spoon she is mechanically shovelling into her mouth.

"I've never heard that piece of music before", Sarah says, apparently more interested in getting information from Carol than in eating her pie and ice cream.  She places the plate on the coffee table in front of her and reaches for her coffee, since Melissa has just made a couple of fresh pots for everyone.  I am only hoping that this time it's decaf.  

"Was it an improvisation?" asks Carl.

"Yes, I suppose that it was", Carol replies in a thread of a voice, almost perfunctorily.   Then she looks up, her eyes hardening somewhat, and says, "Please, could we leave off the subject of music for the time being, and let's just enjoy our pie and ice cream."

"The pie is perfection", says George.  "Who made it?"

"Carol did", Melissa says.

"We did", Carol says, glancing at her with a smile not exactly conspiratorial, but rather looks like it could be almost a plea...

The Peacock 500

 We begin the meeting with silence.  Carl's suggestion.  Apparently this has not been done here before.  This is a surprisingly comfortable and deep silence, and it is clear that the divine presence is indeed with us, and very present.  It is like we have all become members, or parts of one single living being, breathing, feeling and thinking, together...as one.  I am thinking suddenly of Eric, and of Greta, and of how long will I be staying here, and perhaps I should just stay here and let Eric have the apartment, or perhaps he isn't going to come at all.  They have just stepped up the restrictions on international travel.  This pandemic shows no sign of ebbing.  And now, as though a warm, fragrant breeze is passing over me, taking with it this thought and the worry, and again I am left silent, empty, yet full, so full of what I cannot possibly contain, and the silence returns and I appear to be hearing as from a great distance the voice of Sarah as she invokes: "Oh God, may the words of our mouths, and the meditations of our hearts, be acceptable in thy sight."

"Lord, guide us, we ask you, Lord Jesus", prays Maureen.

"Give us wisdom, and fill our hearts with your love", says Jennifer.

Then, there is more silence.  There is the sound of a robin singing in the garden, and on the music of its warble sounds Carl, as he says, "Thank you Lord Jesus.  Amen."

"Now we are together", says Glen, a slight smile flickering on his lips.

"Today, the community is born", says Carl.

All eyes are open, and we glance at one another.  Melissa leaves the room, saying something about the pies.

"Do we have ice cream?" asks Carol.

"Tonnes of ice cream", murmurs Carl, "Mountains of ice cream.  A whole Mount Everest of ice cream."

"Vanilla?" whispers Carol, wistfully.

"Better", says Carl.  "White chocolate."

"Ah", she says, "White chocolate ice cream melting atop a warm apple pie..."

The Peacock 499

 It seems now that everyone, for the first time, is present, all of us, in the same room.  Aaron and Jesús have finally arrived.  They don't seem forthcoming about where they were were, but naturally it is going to be assumed they were out on a walk together.  Francois has not bothered to bandage his face, but the cut is so miniscule that only anyone who knows what happened would trouble to notice.  And now we are about to all find out, because Carl is just asking about Tristan.

"He ran off", says Francois.

"What happened exactly?" asks Carl.

"He made some very derogatory comments about people of colour, we got into a scuffle, and when he saw I was capable of defending myself, the little chicken ran away."

"You hit him?" Carl says.

"Self defense.  When he was going to try to throw a second punch, I blocked it and knocked him to the floor.  I know, hardly in keeping with turning the other cheek..."

"You needn't blame yourself", says Carl. "I'm sure there are times when God cuts us slack for having to deal with certain kinds of idiots."

"Well", says Carol, "I say hurrah for you Francois, and three cheers too.  It's about time someone started showing a little testosterone around here."

"Besides my sister", says Carl, snickering.

"And don't you forget it", says Melissa...

The Peacock 498

 "I just hope he's okay", Sarah says.

"Dear Sarah", says Francois, "If there is anyone whose life, words and example can always hold me accountable to the Lamb of God, you would be the one with the winning resume."

"I'm not judging you", she says, "In fact, I don't blame you.  You put up with an awful lot from both him and Doug."

"His repulsive little deputy", says Francois.

"It must have been pretty bad", I say, not knowing why I don't just stay quiet.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it", says Jennifer.  "We were living under one holy dictatorship.  George and Jeff really got the worst of it.  Doug would give the orders and Tristan would run around enforcing them.  It turned out that they didn't care much for their sense of humour.  They didn't get humour at all.  And George and Jeff are both funny.  They love making and telling jokes.  They are hilarious.  And Doug would try to impose fasts and house confinements in their own rooms on them, and at first they obeyed, and then they began to rebel.  So the little weasel would threaten to beat them, and one day, they both took him on, roughed him up and he never bothered them again.  In fact, that is when things finally started to turn against their holy dictatorship.  There was a core of us who never cooperated, just the women I'm afraid, but none of us would stand for it, and Doug and his little acolyte were such entrenched misogynists, well, we simply just ignored them, and did everything we could to undermine them.  

"With Tristan gone now" , says Francois, dabbing lightly the slightly stained cloth on his wound, "We can now finally all come together as a community.  The last obstacle is gone now..."

The Peacock 497

 We appear to be walking in on rather a serious conversation  With difficulty they all pull away from their topic of interest in order to give us their attention.

"The meeting is just starting", says Sarah.  "Are you all coming?  Francois!  What happened?"

He is holding a facecloth against a lightly bleeding cut under his right eye.

"A bit of a scuffle with Tristan, I'm afraid."

"Where is he?" says Sarah.

"He's gone", says Jenn.  "Apparently, he hit Francois, who delivered him in return a punch in the mouth.  He fell on the floor.  Then, got up and ran away."

"You actually hit him?" Sarah says, incredulous.

"I probably should have held myself in check", says Francois.  "But I just couldn't let the little bastard get away with it.  I know, hardly turning the other cheek, and now he's gone."

"Are you sure he's gone?" says Sarah.

"We saw him leave from the window.  He must have picked up his things without any of you seeing him.  It appears he left through one of the side doors."

"What happened?" says Sarah.

"Just as we were starting to do the floor, he launched into some very racist language", says Francois.  "I challenged him.  He hit me, I hit him back, and he ran away."

"What are we going to do now?" says Sarah.

Francois emits a wicked little grin and says, "Does Carl have champagne in the wine cellar?..."  

The Peacock 496

 "We should be ready to start soon", says Carl, looking at his watch.  "But where are the others.  We are still missing Francois and What's his face, along with Maureen and Jenn."

"I can check", say I, really wanting to get out of the room for a few minutes, and not even knowing why.

"Better let me come with you, says Sarah.  "They'll be in a part of the house you don't know very well,

She leads me along a corridor, past the kitchen to the other wing of the house,  which I have not seen yet.  It is like a distinct reality.  The rooms are every bit as elegant and expansive, but different furniture, rather worn and not quite at its best.    Rather cheap looking, and simply funcional, I should imagine.   If at all.  There is a sense of sad neglect here, I would imagine from the three years of Doug's presence here.  It would be very difficult to maintain a cheery home while living in a state of constant siege, I would think.  But I can also tell from the design of the rooms that Carl and Melissa have the more attractive half of the house    We are going up a staircase, as expansive, but not as elegant as the one in the main part of the house.  We can hear voices, not very loud, women and one man, likely Maureen and Jenn and Francois.

Neither are there any paintings adorning the walls here, perhaps a couple of religious themed posters, but little else.  "Hello", says Sarah.

"We're in my room", responds the voice of Jennifer

"It is a bright and spacious dormer room with slanting walls, two embedded windows and lots of light.  Jenn is seated on top of her bed, and the other two are in chairs.  The room looks and feels very different from the rest of the house.  Clean, well ordered, bright, colourful, and cheery, with paintings of flowers and landscapes adorning the walls and colours of sky blue, apple green and golden yellow predominating...

The Peacock 495

 Adam says, after some hesitation, "I think I'm forty-six."

"You think you are forty-six", says Carol.

"But", and looking a little unsettled, decides to play with the idea, "I could be mistaken."

"Are you being serious?" she says.

"Thing is, am I ever being serious", Adam quips, "But, no, I do not know my correct age.  Some time ago, before I came to the Place of the Transfiguration, I had forgotten my past, and had to invent one, but then that soon fell through...kind of."  And now he looks up at everyone, now authentically perplexed and vulnerable, as though knowing that he cannot easily play his way out of this one.

"Where is your family", Carol asks.

"I imagine they're all dead.  I believe my mother was a ballerina, the Kirov in Russia, but everything is pretty vague.  I somehow ended up with about a half dozen vintage Faberge eggs in my possession, which I sold to various dealers, including Matthew here, when he had his antique business, and then I brought him with me to the Place of the Transfiguration."

"On Vancouver Island", Carl says.  "How did you arrive there."

"I was just there.  I showed up one day, and didn't have a clue how I got there  But they all welcomed me, and I was already a believing Christian, so everything fell into place, except, I can't remember.  Anything.

"How very extraordinary", Carol says.  "I am so very sorry that I probed so much."

"It's okay", says Adam, smiling and maintaining composure, "It's been common knowledge here for a while.  At least to my closest friends here..."

The Peacock 494

 "How old are you exactly?" Carol asks Adam.

He pauses and looks as if he is trying to think up an answer.  Sarah says", by the way you guys, there is still plenty of cocoa left, would you like some."

Lazarus nods, as though replying for both of them.  "Let me", says Sarah when she seems him getting up to move towards the cocoa pot.  She goes and pours them both two dark blue mugs full of her delicious hot chocolate.

They each take a sip.  Adam says, "Sarah, I see you have lost none of your magic.  This is just celestial, it is so lovely."

"Carl had a unique way of describing Sarah's cocoa", says Sheila, deadpan, but there is a ferociously mischievous glint in her eyes.  "What did you call it again, Carl?"

"No!" says Sarah imperiously, "We are not going there again."  Then she glances around at the others and says nervously, "Or are we?"

Carl glances at Melissa, as if to ask her permission.  She says impatiently, "Oh, do it if you must, but don't expect me to protect your ass this time."

"Not that I ever have, or that you've ever done", he quips, chuckling.

Then like a very bad little boy who knows he is bad and wants to milk it for what it's worth, Carl says, "I called it nipple erecting."  And now everyone, is laughing, including Sarah.

"Well, he's right, you know", says Carol , "And as a woman, I ought to know", she adds, chortling.

"And now, Adam", she says with authority, "You are about to tell us your age...."

The Peacock 493

 " I just love apple pie" says Adam.  "How about you, Sable?" he says, turning to his companion, "Don't you just love apple pie?"  

Adam appears to have a light accent which I cannot quite place  I would imagine that Sable is Lazarus' nickname. 

"That's all well and good", says Lazarus indifferently.  "So, shall we real to these good people the truth about our age?"

Says Carl, "That could be interesting.  Especially since, Adam, you have not aged one single day since you came here.  And Lazarus' hair, I remember, used to be black as a ravens wing. 

Okay", says Carol.  "I am going to disclose to you first my age, and being a woman, that will obligate both of you.  I will tell you my age first, and I am a woman, so this is going to obligate both of you.  I am sixty-five.  Now it's your turn."  And she directs on both men a particularly radiant, dazzling smile.

"Forty-one", says Lazarus.

"And?" Carol says, directing at Adam.

"I am somewhat older than Lazarus."

"Wait a minute", says Carol.  "Didn't you just call him Sable?"

"It's my nickname" says Lazarus.

"I named him after the sable antelope", says Adam.  "Do you know them?  they live in Africa and they are very noble and black and elegant with the most amazing curving long horns."

"So, Adam", says Carol, "how old are you?"

"I am older than Lazarus." He smiles with the calm radiance of someone who seldom is not found smiling.

"Is your cosmetic surgeon accepting new patients?" says Carl, laughing...

The Peacock 492

 Two men I have never seen before appear in the doorway, and quietly make their way to the loveseat.  They seem both very quiet and circumspect, and somehow completely joined to each other.  I really don't know what to make of them.  One appears older, somewhere in his forties with gray hair combed back to reveal a thin but quiet and very lively face with large and very dark eyes.  He appears almost like an archangel in an Eastern Orthodox icon.  The other, seems still rather young, not even thirty I would say, with rather golden chestnut hair and a slightly broad high cheekboned face.  He is tall and slender, walking with a dancer's grace, and his eyes are particularly arresting, rather a pale amber gold with a glint of green.  

As they settle into the loveseat, Carl makes introductions.  "Lazarus", he gestures to the elder, "And Adam, I would like you to meet two of our honoured guests here, Christopher and Carol.

"Nice to meet you", says Adam.

"You are both part of the community here?" asks Carol.

"Yes", says Adam.  "we arrived more or less ten years ago, with some of the others."

"You must have been very young", she says.

"I would have been already in my mid thirties."

"Which would make you... You are very youthful."

"Has someone been making apple pies", says Adam, sniffing the air.

"They just came out of the oven", Melissa says.  

"They should be ready to eat soon, if anyone would fancy some", says Carol...

.

The Peacock 491

 "Wow, you came around fast", says Michael to Matthew.  What convinced you?"

"About pope Douglas?  It only took  forty-eight hours of self-deprogramming.  Seeing him get taken away by the police certainly helped."

"You saw him?" says Carl.

"From one of the dormer windows in the garret", he replies.  "I think we should all celebrate.  Just throw a big party and make lots of noise."

"I hardly think that would be appropriate". says Sarah.

"You're not going to tell us you miss him!" says Michael, groaning.

"Of course not.  But he did leave....in a state of humiliation.  I don't think I would wish that on anyone."

"I would beg to differ", says Melissa, "I happened to witness what he was trying to do to Father Francois  That is why I got him out of there and called police. I would be very happy to celebrate his departure." 

"What happened, exactly?" says Carol.

"Father Francois was naked and on his knees and Douglas was about to whip him."

"Oh my god", says Michael.  "Why am I surprised."

"What did you do?" Carol asks.

"First, I plowed Douglas in the face, then handed Francois his clothes while standing guard over Douglas in case he tried anything, then I escorted him out of there..  Yes, we ought to celebrate."

"Do you think the pies might be done?" Carol asks Melissa.

"Could you go have a look please, Carol.  I will be right there..."

The Peacock 490

 "Hey Carl", says Matthew suddenly, and I am surprised to hear him speak, "How about bankrolling Michael and I for a couple of weeks downtime in an all-inclusive in Puerta Vallarta.  Hey Sheila, would you like to come?"

"I would be delighted", she says blandly.

"Carl Travel", we'll call it", says Michael.

"Does mom know about this?" Melissa asks her brother.

"I don't know, have you talked to her lately?"

"Last night on Skype."

"Where was I?"

"Very good question, Carl", she says.  "Where were you?"

"My fault", says I, "We were up in my bedroom."

"Were you, now", says Michael, snickering.

"Father Francois was also with us." say I.

"Three of you", Matthew says with a smirk", and with a priest.  What were you doing.  Confessing?"

"You guys", says Sarah, trying to sound indignant, but also barely restraining her laughter.  And now Glen is laughing out loud again.

"I'm sorry, everyone", says Matthew, now smiling broadly,, "But after almost three years living under the holy dictatorship of pope Douglas, I think it's time we all let our hair down."  And then, pumping the air with his fist, he yelps out a joyous, "Woo-HOO!"

"Anyway", says Melissa, clearly wanting to be the adult in the room, "Mom doesn't know about the travel expenses for those two, because I only found out just now."

"It all came out of my own pocket", says Carl, "So Sister dearest, you may chill already."

"Oh, I did tell you she's coming here next week, didn't I."

"That you did, Mel", says Carl, sighing with resignation.  "That you did..."

The Peacock 489

 "At least they're sticking around these days", says Michael.

"Did anyone find out how they were funding their little adventures", says Sheila.

Carl suddenly fidgets, as though suddenly he has an itch in a place where he dare not scratch in front of others.

"Carl?" says Sarah looking at him askance.

"Yes, Carl", says Sheila.

"Could someone please explain?" Carol says.

"Here", says Sarah, "no one has money.  We all live in poverty.  We share everything."

"It is the largesse of our generous hosts", Michael says, "That's  been keeping us alive."

"Carl", Melissa says, "Time to come clean."

"Why are you all looking at me", Carl says.

"So, that's where that money's been going", says Melissa.

"Hasn't anyone here ever heard of compassion?" says Carl.  "They both felt their mental health was being threatened when Doug was here, so I wanted to help them get some away time."

"Away where?" says Sheila.

"Victoria.  I would pay for their transportation and other costs, like for food and lodgings.  It was just a couple of times."

"More than a couple", says Sarah.

""Must be nice to be loaded", Michael says, chuckling...

"

The Peacock 488

 "You both live here?" I ask.

"We both live here"  says Michael, who seems assertive and warm, "Altogether with my darling little old mother", he gestures to Sheila, "And Glen. of course."

"You´re not exactly a spring chicken anymore, yourself, sonny-boy", grumbles Sheila.

"Oh, but I'm still you're little boy, ain't I, Mommy."

""Little pain in the ass," she says.

"And you would be one of the guests", Michael says

"So far, anyway".

"What?  You're thinking to leave?"

"No, I'm thinking to stay.

"You can't be serious", says Matthew sourly.

"Are the others coming", Sheila asks.

"They should be down in a minute", Michael says.

"Adam and Lazarus?" says Sarah.

"I hope they're coming, anyway", says Sheila.  "They really need to participate more."

"A lot more", says Sarah...

The Peacock 487

 "What time is the meeting?" I ask.

"Ten minutes", says Carl, looking at his watch.  "Shall we adjourn to the sitting room?"

"There are already two men in the reception room whom I have not seen before, both occupying one of the sofas.  They are both lean, dressed in plaid flannel shirts and bluejeans.  One would be over fifty, the other older, but it is hard for me to estimate his age.

"Mission accomplished", Sheila says, glancing at them, then positioning herself in the armchair perpendicular to where they are seated.  

"Embarrassment by mother", says the younger man, rolling his eyes.

"Just fulfilling my maternal duties, son", she says.

"What are you drinking?" he says, glancing at the cup in his mother's hands.

"Cocoa.  Would you like some?" says Sarah, seating herself with them on the couch.  "No, let me", she says, and gets up again.

"No worries", Carl says, carrying both cocoa pots with him and setting them on the coffee table.  "There's still plenty.  I can bring out some more mugs."

The older man seems solemn and taciturn.  I take the risk.  "Hi, my name is Christopher."

"Michael", says the younger man.  "And", gesturing to his companion, "Matthew..."

The Peacock 486

 "Who wants to go with me to the diner for lunch today", says Carl.  "Sister dearest?"

"Don't be ridiculous", Melissa mutters, "I have too much to do here."

"You deserve a break today", Carl sings.

"McDonald's dropped that slogan more than seven years ago", quips his sister, "What rock have you been living under?  And before you continue, Brother Smartass, you are not taking me anywhere near a McDonald's.  Not today, and not ever."

"You are a gal after my heart, Melissa", says Sheila.

"And I'm not going to the diner either", she says, defiant.

"Can't say I didn't try", Carl says, shrugging.  "How about you, Glen?"

"Sure", he says, "But just one thing.  I haven't got any money."

"It's all on me."

"Chris?"

"Of course."

"How about you, Carol?"

"Well, I do think that Melissa might want someone around to help out today."

"Oh Carol", chimes Sarah, "You're no fun!"

"Sheila", says Carl.

"Last but not least?" Sheila says.  "Well, I don't see why not.   And you are paying, of course."

"Of course."

And here arises for me the awkward question.  What do the members of this community do for income.  Are they ever even allowed pocket money.   I of course would like to know, and naturally I am too much a coward to ask...

The Peacock 485

 "My secret to making cocoa?" Sarah says, "Very simple.  Less sugar, more cocoa."

"Bitter cocoa powder?" I ask.

"That's right.  I try for a two to one ratio of cocoa and brown sugar.  It's Aaron's recipe, so really, he deserves the credit.  But there's no secret, really.  You start by melting butter in a saucepan say, one teaspoon per cup, then mix in cocoa and brown sugar, or, one level tablespoon of brown sugar to two or more of cocoa.  Blend it together with a spoon, add milk, and stir for five minutes at a high heat, turning it down or off before four minutes.  If you want you could add vanilla or almond extract, maybe orange essence. "

"Delicious", says Carol, lifting her elegant white and gold cup to her carmined lips.  "Where is Aaron, by the way?"

"Probably seated in his apartment writing this right now," says Carl.

"Shut up, Carl", Melissa hisses at her brother.  If she could reach him from her end of the tale she would probably belt him one. 

"Am I the only one who can smell the pies?" says Carol.

And yes, there is a faint presence of apple, cinnamon and clove creeping like a discreet autumn mist into the room.

"Do you reckon they should be ready for the meeting this morning?" says Glen.

"If you're good", Sheila says drily.  

The Peacock 484

 "So, Sarah", say I, "This has to be the best cocoa I have ever tasted.  What is your secret?"

"Sarah love", quips Carl.

"Flatterer", she says, not knowing whether or not to let herself just smile and get over it.

Carol and Melissa both appear in the doorway.  Sarah reaches for a cocoa pot and says, "Those two empty cups are for you."  They join us at the table.

"Pies all made?" says Carl to his sister.

"They're in the oven."

"Ooh!  This cocoa is exquisite!" squeals Carol, in imitation of an upper class British schoolgirl. 

"Why, Carol", says Carl, "The way you just said that, you sounded just like one of the schoolgirls from the film, The Belles of St. Trinian's."

"Whatever is that?" says Sarah, as though not being really sure about where this conversation might go.

"Yet another Alistair Sims movie", says Carl.

"He played Scrooge in a Christmas Carol, right?" says Glen.

"And he did delightful drag", says Carol.  "Wait a minute, you don't mean to insinuate that I am like Alistair Sim impersonating a female."

"He played Scrooge in drag?" says Sarah, her eyes widening.

"He played an English schoolmistress, in drag", Carl says.  "Different movies, both from the fifties.  "No, Carol, I mean, you sounded like the naughty little schoolgirl who was organizing the whole gambling racket in the movie."

"Oh, you mean that sultry little vixen puffing languorously on a cigarette while reclining on top of a desk."

"Sounds like quite the flick", Sarah says.

"So, Sarah", says Carl, "Christopher was asking about your secret for making such luscious cocoa..."

The Peacock 484

 "This hot chocolate is just heavenly", says Sheila.

"Nipple erecting", says Carl with a sly grin.

"What!" says Sarah.

Suddenly Glen has burst out laughing, uncontrollably.

"I hardly think that's funny."

"I do", says Sheila deadpan.

"What!  Sheila!  You?"

Glen is still laughing.

"No need to take offense dear.  You have out excelled yourself with the cocoa, as you tend to do with everything."

It's hard to tell whether or not that has been said as  compliment.  Methinks that maybe not.  Glen is still laughing.

"Sarah, I assure this is not a betrayal, and yes, the remark", and Sheila glances at Carl, "Is tasteless, but it is nonetheless funny."

Glen is finally starting to settle down.  Then, as he composes himself, he looks up and says, "Sorry everyone...but after all the stress and tension lately, I think I was just needing a good laugh."  He tastes the cocoa.  "And Sarah, you have truly outdone yourself..."

The Peacock 483

 "Cocoa!" The voice is Carl's, ringing through the room.  He is carrying two white with gold trim porcelain cocoa pots, followed by Sarah who carries a tray with a half dozen matching cups, white and gold like the cocoa pots.  

"Sheila, I trust you are staying for cocoa", says Carl, beaming warmth, joy and goodwill.

"Did Sarah make it?" she asks.  "Oh, then I must stay."

"I am flattered and honoured, Sheila", says Sarah, beaming.  "And it's such a treat to see you here.  You were becoming an anchorite, like Glen.  Super awesome seeing both of you here."

"I think we have, the rest of us, have also agreed that it is time for us all to be more...together."

"Excepting for Tristan", mutters Sarah, pouring chocolate into each cup.

"Matthew is also being a problem", says Sheila.

"So, what else is new?"

"So, we're all meeting in thirty minutes, right?" says Carl.

"Something like that" , says Sheila.  "My son is still tightening the screws on Matthew, I believe."

"Your son?" say I.

"Michael..."

The Peacock 482

 "Did Tobias", says Glen, "Embody for you the spirit of that house?"

"Yes."  Sheila pauses for a long sip of coffee, which I have observed that she is taking black and bitter.   "He was a very peculiar animal, with a very sharp psychic ability. "   He seemed aware of invisible presences, and often focused particularly on the apple tree.  His eyes would follow whatever appeared in his line of vision even if I couldn't see it.  He was also a peculiarly peaceful cat.  He never hunted or killed anything  Small birds appeared to feel safe in his presence.  That I found very unsettling: for example, one day I was working on that painting in the back yard and there was Tobias, lying on the grass, a beautiful small bird, a red finch, was pecking around in the grass just a few feet from him.  Tobias appeared to notice the bird, then chose to ignore it, and the bird didn't seem at all to mind."

"That is odd", say I.

"The destruction of the tree and house bonded me with the cat.  We became inseparable.  He only died just last year, already well past twenty.  Doug was trying to order me to have him put down but only because he had a pathological hatred of cats.  He did threaten to do it himself if I didn't cooperate, so that Tobias never left my bedroom, and for days at a time neither would I.  A horrible, awful, deplorable man, and then he presumed to abuse father Francois, but he seemed to be a typhoon of undisciplined energy and power.  No one could stop him.  No one.  And only the women. myself, Maureen, Jennifer and Sarah, seemed able to resist him.  It was constant civil war.  And now he's gone.  Thank God.  But it was when he started prancing around in that ridiculous bedsheet toga, and I could just no longer take him seriously. So, I said to him one day, "Doug, I didn't know you were a drag queen."  He couldn't answer, he just stood there looking utterly dumbfounded, then I started laughing,  Sarah and I had been having a conversation ant she joined me in the laughter and Doug just slunk away in utter shame and embarrassment.  That would have been just minutes before Melissa marched in to rescue Father Francois from him,,,,"

The Peacock 481

 "That was a beautiful cat", says Glen.

"Tobias", says Sheila.  "Yes, he was very beautiful.  Pure white with blue eyes.  He came with me to the Place of the Transfiguration and became the official house cat.  Then he came here with me.  He's buried out by the southern magnolia."

"That was hard, losing him", said Glen.

"Well, he had a long life.  More than twenty years.  And he died a very peaceful and natural death.  one morning, I woke up, and there he was on the floor.  At first I thought he was sleeping.  You know, I was never a cat person,  I can't even say I was much fond of dogs.  Tobias just insinuated his way into my heart and never left."

"You got him from Michael, didn't you?"says Glen.

"He was more Matthew's idea.  They didn't think I should be so much alone in that big house.  And I probably was too much alone, though I had learned to enjoy it, or I convinced myself that I enjoyed being alone.  I dutifully ignored that poor cat until the last year he was with me in that house.  But Tobias the cat taught me unconditional love.  No matter how much I ignored him, he would not leave me alone.  If I was having a particularly bad day, he would sit down at my side, and there wait and watch over me until I was feeling better.  Then, when that fire came and took everything, finally I completely accepted him and that bonded us for life...

The Peacock 480

"You say you had an apple tree?" say I, more to prolong the conversation than actual curiosity.

"Yes, I did have an apple tree", says Sheila.  "Golden apples.  The only tree of its kind.  Do you remember those apples, Glen?"

"That tree was quite the mystery", he says.

"There was some rather strange phenomena about that tree", Sheila says, "So one day I summoned a psychic to give the thing a reading  He said it was from Atlantis."

"Do you still believe that?" says Glen.

"I don't know", she says.  "I didn't know then, and I still don't know.  But it was a very strange tree.  I featured it in a series of water colours over the years, then one day, my last painting of it, I took real artistic license and painted a young high priest and high priestess, decked in white robes, with a sword and a dove that had been sacrificed and a chalice.  Without having ever seen the painting this psychic, and he was really a very ordinary man, an English teacher at a private college, but he saw in a vision exactly what I had painted.  Then he told me that the tree was the last of a race of such trees from Atlantis, that the tree was cursed, and that the house was in great danger.  Well, less than four months after, just following nine eleven, when the twin towers fell in New York, the entire house burned to the ground.  Oh, and one other detail that I have never shared, by the way.  The fire came from the tree in the back yard, and destroyed both the tree and the house.  I saw it all happen there in the back yard.  Only the cat and I survived...

The Peacock 479

 "Let's first see how I survive the month I am here for."

"Trust me when I say this, Christopher", Sheila says, "You're going to find this place very hard to leave."

"It's a beautiful place."

"It's already laid its claim on you.  Get out while you can.  Or don't.  You're right about Carl.  And his sister.  Very good people."

"This place itself is problematic", Glen says.  "This place is full of competing and conflicting presences.  We have been doing battle with some of those presences since we first arrived here.

"We have been discovering some interesting details about the history of this place since we have been reading Cosme´s journal.

"Cosme", says Sheila.  "That name is very familiar."

"That was my name when I moved here, Sheila.  Remember?"

"I don't, actually.  I came shortly after you, and you told me that you had amnesia.  But you didn't mention anything about that name."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I don't remember it actually."

"And Christopher, you also thought Cosme was your name when you first arrived here."

"Did you?" says Sheila.  "How decidedly odd."

The Peacock 478

 I am lost for words.  We all seem lost for words, three introverts together.  They seem like lovely people, Glen and Sheila, but neither really wants to carry a conversation.  Introvert that I am, I need people to talk to me.  I thrive on people talking to me, as I suppose they would as well, but I don't want to just sit there and sip coffee with two strangers that cannot or do not want to engage.  Though I do suppose we deserve each other.  I really want Carl and Sarah both to hurry up and finish the cocoa so we can start having a conversation again.  I suppose Carl has brought me out of myself, or really, pulled my head out of my ass.  That guy has a gift with people, no matter what some of the Grundies here might say about his allegedly loose morals.  

Unexpectedly Sheila says, "What brought you here, Christopher?

"My car."

"Ha-ha", she says dryly.  "Why are you here?"

"For a rest."

"Now you are really funny", she says.  "Here for a rest, in this sprawling haunted mansion all surrounded by anxious religious neurotics."

"I would hardly call Carl anxious or neurotic."

"You are right about him", Glen says.  "That guy is gold."

"He is amusing", Sheila concurs.  "Have you thought of living here?  You look like you belong,"

"You mean I look like an anxious religious neurotic", and I am laughing.

"Could do worse", she says, "Could do a lot worse,,,"

The Peacock 477

 "Is coffee already made?" says Sheila.

"It´s in the kitchen."  She goes into the kitchen and I can hear her chatting with Melissa and Carol, simply to say good morning and how lovely that they are making apple pies.    Carl has just said good morning, Sheila, and Sarah has mumbled something.  But she is brief.  This woman seems to be very economical with words..  She returns, a full mug of coffee in one hand and half full pot in the other.  Without asking, she refills our mugs, returns the pot to the kitchen, where Carol seems to be wanting to detain her.  She is talking about apples, and I can hear Sheila mention a tree that once grew in her back yard in Vancouver that produced the most fantastical golden apples.  She abruptly ends her sentence and returns to the breakfast room.

"They are making us a huge vat of hot cocoa", she says, retaking her seat.  "But first I need to wake up."

"How long have you lived here?" I ask.

"Must be around ten years", she says.

"You came around the same time as Glen?"

"We all came at once.  All in one batch."

"Instant community", says Glen.

"That's right.  You all lived on the island beforehand."

"And then they were going to bulldoze the place for condominiums", says Sheila.  "We all wanted to stay together, and then this place came up." 

The Peacock 475

The old woman trundles into the room and slowly eases herself into the chair next to Glen and just across from me.  Looking at me, she says crisply and calmly. "And you would be?"

"Christopher."  She extends her hand to shake mine, lightly.  

"Pleased to meet you.  My name is Sheila.  Do you live here?"

"Now I do.  Or so it seems, anyway."

"He is one of Carl and Melissa's guests", says Glen. "Will you have some coffee, Sheila?"

"Wouldn't mind.  I had a hell of a time waking up this morning,  Still a bit groggy."

"Are you here for the meeting?" I ask.

"Yes, but there is something else."  She turns to Glen.  "It's Matthew again."

"How is he today."

"Pretty bad.  He seems almost like Doug.  Like he's been taken possession of."

"What's he up to?"

"Ranting and raving about Carl being the Antichrist and that he and his sister have to be purged off the property, even if it is their property  Thing is, no one could get him to come down today for the meeting. Perhaps Michael could persuade him.  He still listens to him sometimes..."

The Peacock 476

 Sheila seems singularly interesting  She is neither large or small.  She doesn't appear to be one to draw attention to herself, but she clearly occupies space, more than her share.    Her grey hair is short, cut just below the ears, and she is wearing a navy blue sweatshirt and matching slacks, dressed rather like Tristan.  Right now I wonder how can such a perfectly average and ordinary looking old white woman look also so incredibly interesting, as though she is carrying some enormous secret of such dimension and weight, that were she to reveal it, the world would be immediately saved or condemned, perhaps both.

"Will Matthew be attending the meeting?"

"Will you talk to him first?"

"He does listen to Michael."

"Who has completely lost all patience with him.  Such a pity that Tristan is gone."

"Not yet", say I.  "He missed his taxi."

"I persuaded him to stay at least for the meeting this morning, " says Glen.

"Well then someone should tell him.  He adores Tristan, and also shares with him the same irrational reverence for Doug", says Sheila.

The Peacock 474

 "The thing about this house", says Glen, "Is you can never leave.  It takes possession of you.  When I arrived here on the doorstep ten years ago, I was sure I would only be here a few weeks  I had some job interviews lined up, and there were some friends ready to give me a room in their house in New Westminster.  But I just stayed.  Others from the community joined me, and we were already so used to each other after a decade or more together that we really didn't want to separate."

"You became habituated to each other."

"We really loved one another.  We still love one another.  We don't want to separate.  We want to grow old and die together.  All of us.  That is how strong the bond is.  I was all set to move on, but along came Lazarus and Adam, who themselves are completely inseparable.  Then Michael with his mother Sheila and Matthew  We couldn't imagine going it alone, or at least not without one another  I suppose the popular word for it is codependent, but so what?  That is just the language of selfishness.  We were, we are, united by God's love.  So, I suppose you could imagine that we became the core of the community here."

"Doug must have been a kind of a wild card."

"More like an atomic bomb."

Glen appears to be done with speaking for now  His head is quietly bowed over his coffee and I am searching quite lamely for any words I could offer.  I feel completely helpless, completely useless, but this man needs consolation, or comfort anyway, and I don't think he is seeking it from ne, which is just as well, because I really have nothing to give right now.

"There you are, Glen, I've been looking all over the house for you"  The voice belongs to an old woman I have never seen before.

"Oh, good morning, Sheila", he says without looking at her...

  

The Peacock 473

 "How did he hold everything together?"

"He had the presence.  The charisma."

"Like a fascist dictator,"

Glen pauses, as though seeing or knowing something for the first time.  "You're right.  Why didn't I see that?"

"Because you were too busy coping."

"Doug had us all in his thrall."

"I imagine he throve on it."

"But so did we", says Glen.  "Only the women seemed immune.  Maureen, Sarah, Jennifer.  And Sheila.  She's Michael's mother.  I don't imagine you've met her yet.  I don't imagine you even know Michael."

Glen takes another sip of coffee, and stares out the window.  "It looks like it could rain today."

"It's in the forecast anyway."

"We were his slaves.  And then Francois, poor father Francois..."

"He's okay now.  He's with us"

"Are you a member here already?"

"I'm here less than a week.  Not long enough for a novitiate."

" Not even a postulancy.  What do you think of your hosts?"

"Wonderful people.  "They want me to make my home here with them. "

"Why don't you?" Glen says, smiling.

"And that is a very good question..."