The Peacock 1135

 "You can't be serious", says Francois.

"Who are They?" say I

"The bloody corporations, heads of states, deep state and government, the whole bloody UN. the World Bank, the billionaires... it's all a global conspiracy for world domination."

Francois and I both sit here, staring at Chuck slack jawed.  Finally, we have met one of them in the flesh, the anti vaxxers, the believers in conspiracy theories.  Well, I must admit that Chuck's mind was not the first thing about him that I found attractive.

"Where do you get your information?" says Francois tactfully.

"From the internet.  It's all over the place."

"And you believe it?" say I.

"To me it all makes sense.  Look at this crisis of homelessness.  You're going to convince me that that wasn't delibertely engineered in order to keep the rest of the people frightened and obedient, compliant and submissive little slave wage workers that are too timid to unionize."

I don't like where this could be going, and especially I don't like that some of what Chuck is saying is actually making sense, so I look discreetly at Francois, hoping he can find some way of changing the subject...

The Peacock 1134

 As soon as he sits down, he says, "Oh, sorry, do you guys need some time?"

"It's all good, mate", says Chuck.

"How is your mom?" say I.

"She has it."

"Covid?"

"She had trouble breathing last night, but today seems to have stabilized.  She has so far avoided hospitalization."

"Has she been vaccinated?" say I.

"Mom is afraid of needles.  Trauma from Rwanda, I think, but she has been resisting getting the jab.  I think she is finally slowly changing her mind.

"She will have a few months of immunity anyway", say I.  "We have another week and a bit before it kicks in for us. it takes around two weeks I have heard"

"What, you've already had it?" says Chuck.

"No", says François.  "We were vaccinated last Saturday.  How about you?"

"No way I'm going anywhere near that stuff.  I have no idea what they want to put into our bodies", says Chuck, "But they ain't putting nothing into mine..."

"

1133

 "To a girl?" asks Chuck, with innocent incredulity.

"Yes.  To a girl.  It didn't last.  She is Swedish.  We were together a year and a half, but it really wasn't working.  She returned to Sweden.  Her brother has just arrived.  He's in quarantine right now, but when he's done in two weeks he will be staying with us."

"Do you fancy him?"

"We are close."

"But do you fancy him?"

"No, not as a partner, and besides that he's my ex-brother in law.  That would be creepy.  But we do share a deep bond."

"That is interesting.  I was married three years not long after I returned to Melbourne.  I met her in the church.  We have a daughter.  wWe're no longer together.  I need to return soon, to reconnect with my kid, but also for my mother.  She has cancer, you know."

"I'm sorry to hear that.  Do you plan on staying in Australia?"

"My life is here in Vancouver, in this work of ministry.  I cannot leave my people here, not for too long, anyway."

"What happened, between you and your wife, I mean?"

"Oh, I would imagine the same that happened between you and yours.  We were living a sham..."

Chuck's voice trails off as François returns to the table, looking somewhat pensive and sad...

The Peacock 1132

 "What happened when you returned to Australia?  There must have been missing person reports, searches launched for you, investigations."

"Nothing of that sort happened.  Apparently, according to my mother, I was telephoning her every couple of months during those fifteen years.  She did scold me for giving her so little news, simply to tell her that all is going well and my mates on the job are fun and interesting, or horrible and boring, but usually she did all the talking.  I have absolutely no recall of those phone calls.  Nor anything."

I am tempted to ask him about the mansion on the island where Lindstrom had been abducted to, and also Jason, formerly Adam, but the words remain lodged securely in my throat.

"That is all extremely remarkable", is all I can say.

"And now it's your turn, Chris.  "What have you been up to all these years?"

"Well, I was married, briefly."

"sS was I..."

The Peacock 1131

 "Chuck, you and I last saw each other twenty-five years ago.  And you say you returned to Australia just ten years ago after leaving your tree planting job.  What happened during the other fifteen years."

"I don't know."  This looks very painful for him.

"You don't know?"

"When I left my job.  I travelled to Victoria where I stayed for a few days in a hostel.  I met some people there who wanted me to check out this community in Saanich  They were Christians, interdenominational.  There was another visitor there, a beautiful young man, who sat and started talking with me.  He invited me to take a walk with him, so we went a couple of kilometres to a beach.  A boat appeared on the water and was coming towards us.  Next thing I remember, I was at the Vancouver International Airport, the same young man was with me in the departures lounge.    I went to use the washroom before boarding my flight.  The person looking back at me in the mirror was fifteen years older....

The Peacock 1130

" It seemed that I was meant to be back in Melbourne.  My mother had a man living with her, so staying with her was not an option, and that also is a long story so I stayed in a hostel before finding a place of my own.  It was quite an interesting place, because as well as being a youth hostel with dormitories and private rooms--I was in a private room--they also took in homeless people.

"When were you there?"

"About ten years ago."

"Did you happen to meet a woman ther named Angela.?"

"Yes I did, as a matter of fact.  How do you know her?"

"We've never met.  A woman in our community, Sarah, was in Melbourne around that time."

"You happen to know Sarah?"

"I do actually."

"She is just amazing.  It was her experience of conversion that got me started on that same road to where I am with you people now..."

The Peacock 1129

 "This is a small world", says Chuck.

"It is small.  How did you get involved in this kind of ministry?"

"It's quite a long story, actually.  You see, what happened was soon after the last time I saw you, when I stayed overnight in your house, I did go to that tree planting job on Vancouver Island, but it was cut short.  I was having some problems with drinking at the time, and drugs, mostly mushrooms, but I was suddenly drinking and using a lot, and it was making me pretty useless for work.  So they had to let me go.  Anyway, there were also questions about my mental health. I seemed to be having visions when I was out on the land planting, and I couldn't stay focussed on my work.  

"A being in white.  A shining, radiant being, often just standing there before me.  It was usually very peaceful, blissful, then he would be gone and I was sunk again in misery that I tried to drown more in drink.  But I think the mushrooms were having a countervailing effect, and so the visions.  But it got to be too much.  Soon, I wasn't able to leave my tent.  It was just too scary going out there.  My foreman let me go, but I had enough money to book a flight back to Melbourne. So, I went home...

The Peacock 1128

 "I guess it's been a few years, Christopher", says Chuck, looking at me with rather the same tenderness he betrayed just before he left the house twenty-five years ago.  We did not hug, or touch each other as he stood by the open door, apparently not sure just how he should leave me.  And now, touching, even the most fraternal and platonic caress on the wrist, would still seem at the very least highly inappropriate between us.  Age has changed him, and it is also changing me.  The fire is gone, not even a little residual ember, but there remains something...something indefinable.

"Can you tell me a bit more about this ministry you are part of?"

"It's a multi church network: principally Catholic, Anglican and United Church.  I come from the Catholic end of things."

"I didn't know you were Catholic."

"I was raised in the faith, but left it when I was still in high school, then ended up wandering the world, which brought me here to Canada where we met each other.  I stayed here about three years, first time."

"Would you happen to know Cynthia?"

"Vancoevorden?  Supports survial sex workers?"

" Just this past Monday we had coffee with her here.  She is related to Carl, they are distant cousins..."

The Peacock 1127

 I am actually glad that Francois has just changed the subject, even before I could say thankyou to Chuck's expression of concern.  But right now I am less than interested in talking about my father's passing.  It is still too real for me, when I saw him in a vision while at work in the hospice, and knew I had to rush over to see him right away, where he would be seated dead at the same table where we were having breakfast this morning.

"A retreat centre?

"Yes", say I.  "Carl and his sister inherited a sprawling mansion from their father who was very wealthy.  And so they converted it into a community and retreat centre.  It's on this huge plot of land in the forest with acres of gardens and lawns and walking paths."

"I should like very much to see it some time."

"I think that could be arranged ", says Francois, whose phone is suddenly ringing. He checks the screen, then picks it up.  "Hi", he says, then looking at me, whispers, "my mother", and promptly goes to another table leaving me alone with Chuck and really not knowing what I am going to say to him next...

1126

 He seats himself directly across from me with what looks like a black americano, his face a radiance of a beaming smile.  But I think that he, Chuck, is likely feeling as nervous as I am.

"Chuck, I would like you to meet my friend, Francois.  He is staying with both me and Carl.  You met Carl with me yesterday."

"Oh yes.  He seems very nice."

"That he is", says Francois.

"How do you guys know each other?"

"Carl runs with his sister a Christian retreat centre out in the Fraser Valley, in the mountains near Chilliwack."

"And how did you all come to know each other?"  Chuck is focussing on me alone right now, as though to him I would be the most important person in the universe.  It is gratifying, if a bit embarrassing.

"I was there as a guest, and Francois was living there.  And now we have all decided to try to make a life together in my family home at UBC. "  I almost add, you would know the place, but that just feels really inappropriate.

"How is your father, by the way?"

"He passed away more than a year ago.  Heart attack."

"I am so sorry to hear that, Christopher."

"Christopher mentioned that you re involved in inner city ministry", says Francois..."

The Peacock 1125

 He has not arrived yet and we are a bit early.  There is a table in the corner, near where we sat the other day with Cynthia.  There is a small crowd of mostly Asian international students coming in, all of them ordering lattes and similar in disposable paper cups.  I have naively assumed that they are not staying, which is just as well, since they are pretty noisy.  Francois looks up from his phone

"They're all staying, but not one of them has ordered their drink in a for here container."

"Don't expect them to recycle.  I guess they have never heard of the environment."

"I had this problem with discussing environmental issues with foreign students who were not Japanese, when I was in college in Montreal.  They all think the environment is a uniquely North American obsession.  And not one of them is interested in talking about climate change.  They're almost all business administration or marketing students and their sole interest is making money."

"That is really sad you know.  Like a lot of people here who from one side of their mouths complain about how hot the summers are getting while from the other side of their mouths they're bitching and whining about the price of gas.

"Is that him?" says Francois.  And yes, here is Chuck, just coming in through the door.

The Peacock 1124

 "What time do you want me to pick you up?" says Carl as we are getting out of the van.

"We can take the bus home", say  I.

"How about I meet you guys at the condo?"

"We'll be okay, Carl", says Francois."

"Yeah, but what time?"

He is staring at me from the steering wheel, his head turned in my direction and his blue eyed gaze holding me in place even though I have already removed my seat belt and am holding the door half open.  I reach into my pocket where I have just located an extra set of keys which I hand to Carl, and here are also my house keys, and I am reminded that I still haven't had copies of keys made for everyone.  I will do this today.   And now to double check.  Yes, I still have my own keys in my other pocket.  All good.

"You know where the building is?"

"Hamilton and Robson, just upstairs from the McDonald's."

"Very good.  And the unit number?"

"3105."

"That is totally impressive, Carl."

"From my working days in Amsterdam."

"That's right", says Francois, "Where you became adept at memorizing license plates.  I hope your mom's okay, Carl."

"Ditto." say I.

"Thanks.  Me too.  So what time will you be there."

"How about between one and two?" says Francois.

"Deal.  See you then."

"Thanks for the ride", say I.

"Don't mention it."

"Okay, then, we won't", says Francois, smiling.

"And say hi to Chuck for me."

"I will.  See you later..."

The Peacock 1123

 "What's going to become of the old man", says Carl.

"Oliver hasn't said anything so far, but I imagine that he is being charged with mischief for seeking to harm his kid.  He'll probably get kicked out of the country."

"It's hard for me to imagine", say I, "That a father would want to harm his son like that."

"Homophobia runs thicker than blood in a lot of African countries", says Francois.

"And I can say from experience", says Carl, "That not all fathers should be trusted around their kids."

"You two at least had fathers". says Francois.

"There is that", says Carl.

"And this is something we all now share in common", say I.

"And what is that", says Carl.

"We are all fatherless."

"But you had a father who loved you."

"Somewhat excessively, yes, but he was a blessing."

"To be excessively loved by your own father", says Carl.  "If only."

"And that could be why we're all together now", says Francois.

No one dares to answer him.  This has cut just a little too close and Carl now is turning onto the Granville street bridge towards downtown, and we all decidedly now have absolutely nothing to say to each other...

The Peacock 1122

 "C'mon, let's go", says Carl, standing by the front door.

"Yes massah", says Francois, and Carl suddenly freezes.

"Can't take a joke?" says Francois while putting on his shoes.

"Okay", says Carl.  "But please, don't say that to me again."

"yes suh Missah Boss Man!"

"And not that either."  He clearly does not see the humour for a change.

"Well, says Francois, getting up from the couch, "How about, "I'll move when I'm good and fuckin' ready."

"Much better", says Carl, now smiling.

"by the way", he says, as we follow Carl to the van, "The reason I'm a bit delayed is I was just answering an email from Oliver, the Ugandan kid."

"Oh really", says Carl, opening the driver's door and climbing in.  "Where is he?"

Francois has just climbed in on his side and is reaching for the seatbelt.  "He won't say, because of security.  He says he's in a safe house and they have put him onto an online high school program by correspondence.  Perfect for the pandemic."  I have just put on my seatbelt in the back seat and now Carl is backing us out of the driveway.

"He said he is staying with a family and they have two teenage sons, and he likes them both.  He also found out that his father was caught in London and is being held by British authorities..."

The Peacock 1121

 I already have a text from Erik. "Good morning, Christopher.,  Please phone me if you have time."

"Hello?

"Good morning. What's up?

"Thought we could chat a bit before I go back to sleep for a while."

"How is your sleep?"

"Up and down.  I've been awake since two am, but I think I'm almost ready to get back to sleep.  I was on the phone with Greta a couple of hours ago.  She of course is quite wroth about my leaving.  She seems to have guessed where I am, but I'm not going to help them.  I just told her that I'm alive and well and to not call me again.   Then she said for me to say hi to Christopher for her, and I just played dumb and said I might try to get you on Skype."

"Well, they seem to be on your trail."

"We'll be ready for them."

"Listen, Erik, Carl is on his way to Richmond and wants to know if you need anything.  He could stop at the hotel on his way to see his mother.  She's in hospital right now with covid."

"Oh that's right.  She is also supposed to be in quarantine.  Is she okay?"

"Says she's been upgraded to stable."

"That's good news.  It turns out that I don't have it, so I should be okay during my confinement here."

"How are you for reading."

"Well, thank you for bringing me the whole Stieg Larsson Trilogy.  I only saw the movie, and this is something fantastic so it should keep me busy for most of the two weeks anyway."

"Do you need more chocolate?"

"No need to ask.  I always need more chocolate."

"More Lindt orange chocolate?"

"Three bars please."

"Anything else?"

"A litre of milk.  It always makes the chocolate go down just perfect..."

The Peacock 1120

 Francois is putting the last plate in the cupboard.  Say I, "We should get going now if we want to get there by ten."

Carl has followed me into the kitchen.  "Chill.  I'll drive you both downtown."

"We can take the bus", say I  "besides, Francois will want to learn the route."

"He can learn the route on his way home."

"We'll be okay", says Francois.

"You can both speak for yourselves."  We pause and look at each other, two against one.

"Okay", say I.  "Granted.  You may redeem yourself.  Downtown, Jeeves."

"Or perhaps you'd rather walk", says Carl with a wry smile.  "Be ready in twenty minutes, both of you."

"Yes boss", say I.

"Any word about your mom's condition", says Francois.

"I was just on the pone with them a bit earlier.  She has been upgraded to stable, and they can take her off the ventilator today, they think.  Before we go, Chris, give Erik a phone call to see if he needs anything and I will bring it over for him.  "What's his last name again?"

"Engstrom.  Thanks.  I really appreciate this."

"Now go brush your teeth and make yourself pretty.  We're going out..."

The Peacock 1119

 "Hello, is this you, Christopher?" rings out his aussie accent.  Carl appears determined to not leave my side until I have finished this phone call.  I will get him for this.

"Yes.  Chuck. How are you?"

"Just fine, mate.  Really great to see you yesterday.  How have you been, my boy, it has been years.  Decades."

"There's a lot of story to tell", I stammer.  Carl nudges me with his elbow and mouths the word, coffee.

"Do you have time to meet me for coffee today" say I.

"I have a couple of hours free this morning, as a matter of fact."  And he does sound completely and plainly matter of fact.  So different from the idealistic loner drifting between contracts and adventures that I once knew.

"There's a Bean Around the World at Hastings and Cambie.  How about we meet there."

"Yes, I know that place.  Is ten too early for you?"

"Not if I leave pretty soon."

"I'll be there with bells on."

I turn to Carl, who hasn't budged from his place right next to me.  "He wants us to meet him at ten, same place where we had coffee with Cynthia."

"Us?  Dude, you are on your own with this one"

"But"

"No buts. I have to get out to Richmond right away to try to see my mom in hospital.  And besides, this is something you are going to have to do alone."

"You are mean."

"I agree", says Francois from the doorway. "Christopher, I will go with you, if I may."

Carl whips his head around to say, "He should be doing this on his own."

"And that is a lot to expect of him right now.  We're going together."

"Thanks, Francois", say I.  "Thank you so much"

Carl holds me in a near bone breaking hug, loosens his hold, then turns to Francois and says, "Traitor."

"I've been called worse things by nicer people", says Francois returning to the kitchen laughing, and Carl and I are also both smiling...

The Peacock 1118

 Centre cushion on the sofa seems the place to be.  I am centred.  And now, fumbling through my wallet, I extract the  white piece of paper with clean black lettering.  Chuck Morris, Minister, Inner City Ministries.  I see a twitter hashtag, a google mail account, and then the ten digits of his phone number.  I fumble for my phone, misdial, hang up, then try again and straight to voice mail: "Hello", rings out his thick Aussie accent which pains me to understand what the hell he is saying, "You have reached Chuck Morris of Inner City Ministries, please leave your name and phone number and I will call you back as quickly as possible."  Telling him nothing, instead I turn off my phone, and remain here on the centre cushion, staring at the mountain landscape painting on the opposite wall.  It is beautifully rendered, rather suggestive of Claude Monet attempting realism, with its beautifully suffused light.  It was a gift of appreciation from a lady in the parish, for all my dad had done to support her following the death of her husband.  

 Carl shows himself in the doorway.

"Well, how did it go?"

"I couldn't reach him."

"What do you mean you couldn't reach him."

"I just got his voicemail."

"Did you leave a message?"

"No."

He pounces down onto the cushion  next to me, puts his arm around my shoulder and says, "Dear, dear Christopher, whatever are we going to do with you!"

"I dunno.  Trade me in?"

"For a new model. We'll have to give that some thought.  So..."

"As Carol would say, a needle pulling thread."

"Call him again."

"But I don't want him to feel harrassed."

"Call him again."

 I turn my phone back on.  There is a message.  From Chuck.

"A message?"

"From Chuck."

"Are you going to read it?"

"Eventually."

"Now."

"  He says.  Christopher, was that you.  Hold on, I will phone you right away."  And now the phone is ringing and my jaw has just dropped down to my collarbone...

The Peacock 1117

 Chelsea is on her way out through the back door, scattering good cheer and neurotic laughter like iridescent shrapnel.  

"What are you doing?" says Carl as he sees me starting to clear the table.  With a firm hand on my shoulder he gently shoves me towards the doorway.  "You were going to give your Australian friend a phone call.  Remember?"

"But after the cleaning up."

"Francois and I will clean up.  Now get moving."

"Yes sir."  Then, just before I head to the living room, I stop.  "Are you really going to get her to dye your hair blue?"

"You betcha.  She said she's coming over Saturday night.  Remember?"

I am still not ready to leave altogether.  "You know something, Carl."

"What?"

"I've always wanted to have purple hair."

"You'd be a picture of loveliness."

"Should I ask her."

"Do it, man.  now go make that phone call..."

1116

 "So, then, you are not all..."

"A house full of fags", intercepts Carl.

"Well, I wouldn't have used that kind of word", says Chelsea.

"That's okay, I can do it for you."

"And we're not your classic church boys either", adds Francois with a coy little smile.

"Well then, what are you"

Says Francois, "We are three individuals seeking together God and our destiny."

"So then, you are Christians."

"We seek to follow Christ", say I.

"And what exactly has thrown all of you together?"

"Carl has played a big, I would say, an outsize role", say I.

"I'm just a facilitator, nothing more", says Carl.

"And this all started in your mansion up in the mountains."

"So to speak", says Carl.  "It's a Christian retreat centre where Chris met us for the first time, and also a refuge for survivors of religious cult abuse.  Francois came to us for such shelter.  Hope I didn't just overstep, Francois."

"It's okay, she'd might as well know."

"And", says Carl, "you said you make house calls."

"For cutting hair, yes."

"Well, I would like to have blue hair."

"that would look really stunning on you...."

The Peacock 1115

 "People are always full of surprises", says Chelsea.  "I should know.  I cut hair for a living."

"Like being a bartender", says Francois.

"I've done that for a living too.  And you are absolutely right.  Except my haircutting clients usually don't need help standing up."  After chugging down some more coffee she adds, "Francois, didn't you tell me you re a priest?"

"Ex-priest."

"So how do you know about bartenders."

"I socialized a lot before I landed in the monastery."

"I do declare."

"So", says Carl, "how did you come up with Geraldine Bang-Bang."

"Well, Geraldine happens to be my middle name, after my Granny."

"And the Bang-Bang".

"That really ought to be self-explanatory", she says, now starting to giggle.  "I suppose this should be okay since you are all gay."

"No", says Francois.

"You mean..."

"Francois is straight", says Carl, "Christopher is asexual, and I am not even going to begin to explain to you what I am still unravelling..."

The Peacock 1114

 "Oh...yes."

"But you haven't read any of it."

"Well, I did kind of skip over it till later."

"Are you Geraldine Bang-Bang?" says Carl.

"Well, that's one of my names."

"And", says Francois, "it's a column on sex?"

"More a relationship counseling forum, I should say."  And finally, Chelsea is taking a bite from one of her muffins, so they should be safe for us to eat.  "What I do, is I take one email sent by a reader, and explore all the intricacies and angles and ins and outs, please don't take that the wrong way, or do take it any way you wish, but then there is also feedback from readers.  It's rather like Dan Savage, enhanced.  In case you don't know Dan Savage, he happens to be a very famous American sex advice columnist.  Gay."

"I met him once in Amsterdam", says Carl.

"Oh, did you really!"

"Back when I was a rent boy selling my wares along the canals.  I was a teenager."

"You don't say!"

"And you thought we were a house full of church boys just waiting to be shocked and scandalized", says Carl.

"And educated", says Francois, chuckling between mouthfuls of Chelsea's delicious muffins...

The Peacock 1113

 Chelsea has invited herself for breakfast, bribing us with her price of entry: a plate load of steaming fresh baked muffins.  We are supplying the butter and jam.  And peanut butter.  Her cat is on the sundeck, alert for something to kill.  She is a welcome presence, and between sips of coffee is telling us about some of her regular salon clients.  Right now she is fixated on Samantha, seventy-something with a penchant for purple hair and a young Latino manfriend in her winter hideaway in Puerto Vallarta.  

"Three times widowed", she says.  "And twice divorced.  Grass does not grow under that woman's feet.  and she is hilarious!  She inherited a whole wad of dough from her first two husbands, and invested heavily in plastic and cosmetic surgery.  She looks like a large ageing Barbie doll with tits just like Dolly Parton.  You would have to see her to believe her.", and Chelsea gestures with her hands over her own tiny bosom in order to illustrate the size of Samantha's endowments.

She appears animated, almost manic, and the smile hasn't left her face nor have her arms or hands been still since she sat down with us.   Her coffee must be stone cold by now, since she hasn't had time to drink any of it.

"I had a look at your blog yesterday", say I.  "And I found your accounts about your family extremely interesting."

"And did you also happen to stumble across Geraldine Bang-Bang?" says Chelsea...

The Peacock 1111

 In the dark I can only see Chuck, not older as he appears now but from when I first knew him twenty-five years ago.  He had a beautiful body, muscular, compact, the proportions of an Olympic swimmer.  And three times, I got to caress him, all of him, and my fingertips and palms still tingle at the touch of his smooth tanned skin.  I see him from then, and I wonder if he must also be thinking of me, now, this very  same moment.  Older now, grey, the years have robbed his body of its vigor, and he would be now well at least sixty.  But beneath the thinning grey hair, the same eyes, and yet different.  Eyes that are kind, compassionate, eyes that see.  He never before had eyes that saw.   Now he is a street minister,  a servant and follower of Christ, the same Lord that now I am purporting to follow.  And Carl is insisting that I phone him.  I will tomorrow.  Right after breakfast.  I wonder just how he remembers me.  The last time we saw each other, here in this house, it was morning and I fed him breakfast after he had slept alone on the hideabed in my father's study.  His being here closed one door and opened another?  I never told Dad that I had here in his absence an overnight guest, much less one whose penis I fondled and caressed on three separate occasions...

The Peacock 1110

 "Here endeth the lesson", say I.

"Agreed.  Karen does have a story", says Carl.

"I only wonder", says Francois, "Just why she is devoting so much attention to herself."

"Why wouldn't she?" says Carl.

"With all the time she is spending in seminary, learning about the Christian faith, God, pastoral responsibilities, doesn't this account of hers strike anyone here as rather inordinately self-absorbed?"

"She's an Anglican", say I.

"And that says it all?" says Francois.

"Yes, I 'm afraid that it does."

"Here's a joke for you", says Carl.

"Isn't it rather late?" says Francois, moaning playfully.

"When is a pre surgery transwoman like a fruit bowl?"

"Here it comes", say I.

"When they both have two pairs."

"Go to your room", shouts Francois, laughing...

"Yes", say I, "Time for beddy-byes, kiddies.

"Oh", one last thing", says Francois, "I got an email from Oliver, the Ugandan kid."

"How is he" says Carl.

"He's safe, wouldn't go into detail and still isn't safe to reveal where he is, but he's at least safe for now."

"Super good news", say I, already leaving for my father's bedroom.  "Good night..."

"

The Peacock 1109

 "I did have allies, though I must confess, no close friends.  It appears that I was the first trans person to have openly come through their doors.  There were also a couple of queer students.  Three exactly.  Openly queer, I mean, since there did appear to be a good number of closet cases among us.  A young lesbian who seemed almost creepily interested  in me, and two gay boys, who were also romantically involved together.  We never really spoke much.  We did share a few enjoyable lunches in the cafeteria and at first they assumed that I also was a gay man.  I think one of them was actually attracted to me, and so the thinly veiled but profound disappointment when they heard that I was transitioning.  But they did get over it, as we say, and our visits, though sparse, did continue to be enjoyable.  There was a camaraderie based on that common feeling of having nothing to hide from each other.  The girl student, whom I shall call Rachel, was rather different.  She would frequently stop to say hi, ask me how my day was going, and then she began to have all sorts of questions about my life, not the nosy prurient ones, but about my background, my family, the town I grew up in.  We never actually sat down to visit, but she would simply stop with me between classes, or perhaps escort me to my next class before leaving me at the door.  A most curious individual...

The Peacock 1108

 That particular student did turn out rather unfortunately.  I had noted how, throughout class discussions and group projects, of how obstinately traditional and conservative he was.  He became known, not too affectionately, as the Baptist.  He was meanspirited and not very bright, making him perfect for a fundamentalist forum.  Miraculously, he did make it through seminary, then was ordained and soon moved to a parish in Greater Vancouver where he took the parish out of the diocese as a result of Michael, our bishop of the day, legitimizing same sex blessings.  No sooner was he out of the diocese when he was caught en flagrante delecto abusing young boys in the parish.  Yes, sexually.  For some reason this little scandal never hit the news.  He had well moneyed relatives who succeeded in bribing the news agencies into silence.  Still, the pressure and shame were too much for him, and he committed suicide a year later.  We never communicated following our falling out in theological school, and I must confess that it has been hard for me to find any tears to shed for him.  I am not naming this individual, of course.  I am only mentioning him in order to give the lie to that grievous and egregious lie about queer and trans persons being sexually dangerous to children.  It should be very clear, through this particular illustration, that we are not any danger to anyone, except to those that will only let go of their pet lies and illusions once they are pried from out of their cold dead hands.

The Peacock 1107

 I'm yawning.  "I suppose that any distraction is good.  Yes, let's give her a page or two, since it's getting pretty late." I reach for Karen Wilson's memoir, and turn to the book mark.

"In residence they gave me a private room with ensuite bathroom, which has now become standard in seminary, but in this case they were giving special consideration to my "delicate" condition, since no one really knew whether I pee standing or sitting down, and still no one is going to know such salient or prurient details concerning me.  It is simply nobody's business  And that has been really my toughest battle while transitioning. Not the stigma, not the ignorance, or the prejudice, and not even the transphobic hate, but those stupid, invasive and nosey questions.  Completely inappropriate questions that not even certain theology students or teachers appeared completely immune from asking.  Sometimes I like to wonder what it would have been like if some of us were sharing the bathroom.  I can almost imagine the curiosity coming from roommates every time I go to the bathroom, and how manfully they must have to resist sneaking in after to see whether or not I left the toilet seat up.  One young man I appeared to be becoming friends with asked me one day following pastoral strategy class, if I intended to keep my penis.  I asked him whatever would you ask me that for?  He replied that he was just wondering if I would go on needing it.  And I snapped back at him that it might even be that I will have more use for mine that he would ever have for his.  Needless to say, our friendship died on the spot, and following classes he would make every effort to avoid having to talk to me...

The Peacock 1106

 "So what does everyone think of this proposition?" says Francois, "That the gods of Olympus were in fact space aliens, advanced humanoids that came to earth to civilize us?"

"It's as good an explanation as the others" say I.

"They were either Nephilim, or they were their angelic progenitors", says Carl.

"Seriously?" says Francois.

"It seems to square with the account in Genesis, Antediluvian."

"Yes, the Great Flood", say I, indifferently.

"How is Erik?" says Carl.

"Tired, but sleeping all day from boredom and jetlag.  And scared."

"Understandably", says Francois, "with having to be in quarantine and everything."

"There's more to it than that."

"How do you mean?"

"Remember Lindstrom?  From Kenny's diary?  He's shacked up with my ex-wife who is legally married to a Turkish guy who has custody of their son.  Anyway, Erik is frightened for his safety because they were threatening to have him abducted if he didn't start cooperating with their plans for him.  And Erik suspects there is something very strange about Lindstrom, who apparently is well over sixty, but hasn't aged one single day since he was thirty."

"He must have a good cosmetic surgeon", says Carl.

"Evidently, this is all natural."

"Creepier and creepier."  He yawns and says, "Feel like reading some more of Karen's book, or are we all too tired at this late hour?"

The Peacock1105

 This episode of Star Trek is from the first season, 1966.  It's hard to believe that this program is almost sixty years old.  Here they are stranded on a planet that is ruled by the Greek god Apollo.  Yes,  THAT Apollo, who is outrageously handsome and resplendent in a golden tunic showing his muscles, though Carl has just remarked that he looks so darling in his dear little mini skirt.  Apollo is despondent with self pity because no one worships neither him nor any of the other gods any more, not for thousands of years, and that he is the last holdout of the gods, who have all vanished into some realm beyond realms because they are no longer being sustained by the adoration of mortals.  It turns out that according to the script, the gods of Olympus arrived on earth from another planet and taught the savages civilization and basic good manners and toilet habits before they returned home in their spaceship.  And now Carl is remarking on a novel he read some ten years ago or longer about the Greek gods all taking residence in contemporary London, where they have to work at day jobs and live as ordinary mortals because no one will worship them.  "Among other things", says Carl, "Aphrodite is self employed as a phone sex worker.  Who´d have known?"

"Well, she knew the biz", says Francois...