The Peacock 601

 I was walking in a dream.  There is no other explanation. It was neither the angel, nor the serpent.  Juan was searching for me ever since I disappeared days ago.  The cloud almost covers the sun.  It could rain pretty soon.  Juan walks in front as we follow the trail of the serpent.  Rather, Juan knows this as the creek bed that is now dry from the dry season, and nothing else.  It seems that I left the house four days ago at dawn.  I have a history of such delusional adventures.  I spent time in hospital last year.  I really believed that the world was about to end and the planet was going to explode in the emptiness of space.  Yolanda and Juan treated me with great kindness, adopting someone as fragile as me.  They are my siblings.  They are my true friends.  My only friends.  Raúl too.  The psychologists have told me that I never recovered from my mother's death.  And now I cling like ever to those beautiful twins, because they are both so beautiful, gorgeous and they so fill me with pride for including me in their lives.  

There is no drought, Juan has told me.  And they are going to take me home with them, so that the doctors can have a look at me, because I was sleeping outside all those nights.  We exchange few words.  I am not surprised.  Juan is very quiet and reserved.  He rarely speaks.  He also scolds me with his silence.  For leaving them, for putting myself in danger, for putting my brother in danger, for leaving Yolanda so anxious and worried.  Suddenly I see something shining on my path.  it is a feather, colour of cold with reflections of red and purple.  iridescent and shining.

"Look!". I say to Juan, showing it to him.

"Huh?"

With his finger he strokes the fringe of the feather.

"From what kind of bird?" he says, looking at me, "You are the bird expert."

This is true.  I truly love birds, and have a real skill for painting them.

"I don't know.  I really don't know."

My knapsack is a bit heavier than before.  I put the plume inside.  But there is something else inside.  Now it is late afternoon, and there other cypress trees nearby.

"We can make our camp just  over here", says Juan.

When we are seated underneath the cypress, I say to Juan, "What about our provisions?"

"Almost run out, I'm afraid."

I search through my pack.  I pull out the bag of maroon velvet.  "Huh?" I say.

"While you were sleeping I put it inside your pack."