1584

"I think we can leave it there", say I, closing the book and placing it on the table next to me. "How did she get to be a priest?" says Erik. "Anglicans don't have any issues about trans people", says Carl. "And the Catholics?" "Next question , please", quips Francois. Jesús has come out of his room during the reading and has joined us. I wonder what this trans priest and Stella would make of each other", say I. "I would love to be as fly on the wall", says Carl. To Erik, he turns and says, "And now you are finally with us..."

The Peacock 1583

I just had coffee yesterday with Philip. He asked me a very leading question "If, thirty odd years ago, you knew then what you and I both know about gender, would you still have gone through with it?" I asked him to give me time to answer, because I had never really thought it through. This actually kept me up half the night. But now I think I can answer it, and here it is. The answer is no, I would not have bothered, because I need not have bothered. Do I have regrets? None at all. My anatomy, my balance of hormones really play but a shadow role in this ongoing Shakespearean drama about gender. And one does have to reckon with that the gender binary has always been part of our human biology and history, since long before our earliest ancestors left Africa...

1664

"Where was your mother's father", asks Erik. "My grandfather died when we were seven but he was quite wealthy and left his family a generous annuity. In the meantime, my mother married the same young man who had led her to the beach house, who also insisted that he was not our father, but that his identity must remain a secret. Mother did everything in her power to get out of this arrangement, but her hands were tied. She was sixteen when we were born, and Sweden back in that era was a velry patriarchal society. But when I was three, something very odd happened, and that is also the first thing I ever remembered from childhood. His face is still engraved n my mind, though I have had a number of meetings with him over the years. A teenage boy, very beautiful, with dark golden hair and green eyes..." "Dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans", say I. "Yes, you know him." "The teenage Jesus", says Carl. "How did you come to know him", says Stella, her face rapt with wonder...

The Peacock 1582

While I was a boy, then a man, I felt I was living a lie. I still believe I was living a lie as a male. But I thought that transitioning would solve all my problems. And it has solved some of them. I no longer occupy a body that doesn't feel like it is the right one for me. But that doesn't make me a woman. DNA doesn't lie. I am still and always will be a man. And I will always be a woman. Funny, it has taken going through the process of transitioning to bring me to this kind of full awareness. Well, not full, perhaps, more nascent. I have always been a woman. I have always been a man. And I have always been... neither?

The Peacock 1580

Before I continue, please let me make one thing perfectly clear. To this day, neither myself, nor Philip's ex-husband have any regrets at all about transitioning. But from my conversations with Philip following their divorce, it did become evident that we, the three of us, share many of the same unanswerable questions. Primarily, this: What is Gender? Julian, shortly after the stillbirth, as he was retransitioning his gender, often asked this same question to Philip, and Philip simply echoed back to him that same question. But neither parent recovered from the stillbirth, and that proved to be an irrevocable wedge in their marriage. Julian blamed both of them. Philip would blame neither. I asked him if he ever had thoughts himself about transitioning. I am using the masculine pronouns because that is how he references himself. He simply replied that either way, male or female, he would be telling himself a lie. Julian felt the same, but this simply worsened his depression and now he is under permanent psychiatric care...

The Peacock 1579

They were wanting a child, and after exhausting all avenues for adoption, since trans and same sex couples are to this day still discriminated against for adoptions, Philip's trans-husband, Julian, decided to halt his hormone therapies long enough to regress back to being a woman, in body if not in mind or spirit, and so they became pregnant, carried the child to term. The baby was stillborn, and Julian fell into a deep and suicidal depression, which he never recovered from. Soon after, the marrriage ended. It was during a succession of intimate coffee chats when Philip filled in some of the blanks for me...

the Peacock 1590

He seemed ovrerjoyed to hear from me and the following week we met for coffee. He really doesn't look that much older, and appears to be one of those blessed souls who will never have to look their age. He now manages a bike shop not far from where we go for coffee and is himself an avid cyclist. He is divorced now from his husband, and really has quie a tale to tell. It was apparently all over the news and I am amazed and a little embarrassed that I never knew anything about it.

1577

During my most recent visit with my friend, something most unusual happened. I saw Philip come in and order coffee and a muffin to go. He didn't appear that much older, but we were in the midst of a conversation, so we didn't even have time to acknowledge each other, and I can't even be certain if he saw me. i think it must be twenty yers since we last spoke to each other. I was aware from his Facebook updates that he had married a man, a transman, and then nothing. I was really wanting to see him, to talk to him, but had absolutely no idea how to get hold of him. I texted him on Facebook, my first real contact since I was ony following him. It somehow just seemed inappropriate for us to continue seeing each other...

The Peacock 1576

We have since become close friends and remain in regular contact. Naturally the archbishop has advised me against nurturing this friendship with a named traitor but I prefer to follow my own counsel, as I feel directed by the Holy Spirit. Besides which, this individual, whom I refuse to identify in order to protect his privacy, is a man of deep faith and a consecrated life to the service of God. He no longer attends church, for which, under the circumstances, he cannot be blamed, but he has become something of a de facto mentor, a spiritual director to me. He is also the only person I have thus far been able to talk to who can help steer me through this convoluted labyrinth of identity and gender that I seem nowhere near exiting...

The Peacock 1575

I wanted to walk back what I had just said, but it was too late. Then he confessed to me about some of his own struggles and journey about gender identity, that he had come to realize at an early age that he would always be a biological male, that DNA doesn't lie so that that was an irrefutable fact. For this reason he said he remained comfortable with male pronouns. He also said that he had absolutely no time, stomach or patience for the Michel Foucalt nonsense about postmodernism, and that that famous French philosopher would have a lot to answer for for the millions of young minds his lies and delusions about gender have poisoned. Then he went on to say that he had always known he was androgynous. That it was perfectly acceptable for a male or female to feel nothing of masculinity or femininity, but simply to have no sense of gender at all. But he added that that still did not negate his identity as a male, it simply amplified and expanded the definitions....

The Peacock 1574

He spoke clearly and eloquently about his experiences in Colombia, of how on two occasions within one hour in Bogotá, he was riding with his friend in his car, and on both occasions at separate intersections while stopping for a red light, a young man carrying his small child in his arms came to the car window begging. That was a moment of transformation in this man's life. He was concerned about the coldness and the apathy and indifference that Anglicans are notorious for, of how we steadfastly ignore the Gospel. I couldn't say anything to defend the institution that employs me. Somehow we got on to the topic of my transition from male to female. This man has a rare talent for bringing confessions out in people. Then I said something to him that had been festering somewhere in some basement closet in my mind. I said, you know, if we weren't so hung up on gender, if people were simply allowed to be who they are, no matter what their boy bits or girl bits, if masculine and feminine simply no longer mattered in how we know others or in how we understand ourselves, then maybe, just maybe, neither I nor many others would have felt the pressure to change our gender...

The Peacock 1573

I was one of the people he had appealed to and I also ignored him. I was under orders from the archbishop herself. When they sent their lawyer after him I was so rattled that I tried to voice a feeble protest, but was bullied into silence. Then I had that dream again. Jesus. The Truth shall set you free. I finally sent him an email. We agreed to meet at a coffee shop on South Granville. I voiced my concern and my support which he gratefully and humbly accepted. No one else knew about our meeting, though I do imagine that once this is out and in print that they will be sharpening their swords on the high altar.

The Peacock 1572

"T hey never tracked me down.  And I was not about to be discovered. Fortunately, no one saw me get in my car and drive away.  I couldn't be traced.  But I didn't want to be found or known.  By anybody.  until that time I had never had what the born-agains call a personal relationship with Jesus or God.  That simply is not Anglican.  Oh, I had faith alright, but then a few nights later he appeared to me in a dream.  Only these words he spoke to me.  "The truth will set you free." I am going to admit something here that could cost me my job.  And I am saying it right here.  Public domain.  Anglicans are notorious liars.  Anglican priests are some of the biggest liars on the planet.  We make Donald Trump look like an innocent teller of tales.  I have seen this happen over and over, the deceit, the cover-ups.  Shortly after the accident, a man attending the parish where I was assisting came to grief with the diocesan office.  He was appealing for help.  Apparently, on a trip to Colombia he had some traumatizing encounters with some of the street beggars and their small children. He said that their pain and suffering became a thorn from Christ's crown piercing him to the very depths of his soul. He had doubts if he could continue an  Anglican, knowing what we were really like, what absolute lying hypocrites we are.  He appealed for pastoral help, was ignored, stonewalled.  He became relentless and exposed all of us on his blog.  He was threatened with a lawsuit.  He retaliated by going public with CBC.  We backed down.

The Peacock 1571

"this is the appendix she added last year for the book's revision", say I.  "This looks very interesting. "I am not a woman.  I am not a man either, but my body doesn't lie.  I was born male  I will die male, with some alterations of course.  I am still Karen.  I will always be Karen.  But I am also still kevin. "It started two years ago.  There was an accident.  Hit and run.-  I was the one who was hit.  And I also ran.  It happened here at UBC on the Chancellor Boulevard.  I was driving home from a refresher course I was taking at the Vancouver School of Theology.  I had a sudden desire to simply be outside, so I parked my car by the roadside.  I was going to cross the road, it is a broad boulevard with a wide grassy median.  I was going to walk just a little bit in the trail across the road, and then I was hit.  It was not a direct impact.  I was thrown across the road, but miraculously, I didn't seem badly injured.  But I was also in shock.  I thought nothing at all of waiting, and the offending driver did have the courtesy to stop and see what happened.  But by then it was too late.  I had found my way to my car and managed to drive my way home, even though I was bleeding.  I went home and bandaged the wound as well as I could, it wasn't as bad as I'd feared, but I had lost a bit of blood.  I checked myself over.  I did have some bruising on my left cheek from when I fell on the pavement, but nothing else.  I don't know what came over me, but I did nothing about it.  I called in sick for a week to recover at home, but did not go to the hospital or to the police.  But it was all over the news.  including the DNA analysis of my blood that had been found in traces on the road.  it was from a caucasian male...

The Peacock 1570

"We are all tired from a long and portentous day. In two weeks I have lived a grand succession of fourteen portentous days, and I am not the only one.  Jesús has not emerged from his room.  I imagine he is sulking.  Not my problem.  The other two, Jason and Lazarus have already called it a day.  Leaving us four in the living room.  Erik shares the couch with Francois, who seems to have abandoned his precious recliner chair in order to sit near my brother-in-law, who appears to really need the attention.  And I am glad that it isn't me.  He needs to be made to feel welcome by others in the house.  I think Carl is okay.  We are reading again from Karen Wilson's most curious memoir...

The Peacock1569

There are still leftovers from the potato salad and the Danish Greek salad, plus, Francois has taken it upon himself to make grilled cheese sandwiches for the four of us. His interest in Erik seems genuine and sincere. Seems. Francois is what he appears. I have never known anyone so true, at least in the short time that I have known him. and I can tell as we are all gathered round the kitchen table that already Erik has taken to Francois, drinking in his offer of friendship like a desert sand in a spring deluge. We have not talked about what happened in the hospietal. It is all simply too strange, and all we can think of for conversation is the weather, Eril's make of smartphone and the progress of the pandemic...

The Peacock1568

Francois is alone in the living room looking at his laptop. "Where is everyone?" say I. Jesús is in his room, Jeffrey and George have just moved into their new digs and Lazarus and Jason are downstairs, I think for the night. "Francois, I would like you to meet Erik." "How do you do", he says, putting his laptop aside and getting up to shake my brother-in-law's hand. "Nice to meet you", he mumbles, looking down at the floor. "Welcome home." "Thank you." He glances up at Francois and there appears on his face a brief glimmer of a smile. Are you humgry...

The Peacock 1567

We are all lost for words. Even Carl. Erik occupies the back seat. He stares down at his lap, his phone unattended on the seat next to him. I am rather enjoying this silence, though I imagine we are all in some collective state of shock. The evening sun slowly lowers itself over the muddy listless waters of the Fraser, for a few moments making the tepid waves into something glorious from its reflected light. i have twice almost suggested that we stop somewhere for a bite to eat, but my tongue remains paralysed in my mouth. Just as well. Home we go...

The Peacock 1556

Stella is standing by the front desk. The white clerk still looks even whiter as he stares blank-eyed ahead. "Did you put him in a trance", says Carl. "I have him under control Everything is under control." "How did you know..." "i was briefed about him before I flew out here. Sven has his agents...and we have ours. You had better get moving now." "Thanks Stella", says Carl. "Oh you needn't thank me. But tomorrow I would like to see you. May we visit in Christopher's family home", she says, looking my way. "let me write down the address for you. Does anyone have a pen." "No need. I know where you live. i will be there at ten tomorrow morning..."

1577

"Get packed ", is the first thing I say as Erik opens the door. "Hello", says a voice from behind and now we are confronted by a South Asian security guard. "He's two days past his quarantine", says Carl. "They are only supposed to be held for three days. Didn't you know that." "We are under special orders", he says. his voice is high pitched, shrill and girlish actually. "Go ahead and call the police. They need somethng to laugh about But our friend is coming home with us right now." Erik just stands there lookng stupid."Get movng", say I,"while time is on our side."

1576

If it is possible for someone already so white to turn any paler, this desk clerk has just done it. Any whiter and he would be in for transfusions. "Kurtis, you already know how useless it is to argue with me. Now hand Christopher the key." Kurt's hand is visibly shaking as he fumbles behind the desk then hands me an electric key card. "Carl", says Stella suddenly, "How lovely to see you." She playfully rubs his very short hair, then gives him a half hug from behind. "I see you you are looking very well", she purrs. "Now please take very good care of these two. They are very precious." "Stella", he mumbles as she gently backs away. "Don't worry darling, there will be plenty of time for us to talk. But right now I have things to do Go get Erik, you two. I will wait here with Kurtis until you are all out the front door...

1575

"At least now you remember his name." "Whatever." The glass doors slide open as we enter the hotel lobby. There is a young caucasian man working the front desk, plaid sportsjacket, shades of brown, black and grey, and a pale yellow shirt with a narrow dark blue tie. His wavy hair is a bit long, dirty blond and swept back behind his ears. "We are here for Erik Sorensen." Without bothering to look at the screen he snaps peevishly, "he is in quaranteen. He won't be out till the twenty- eighth. "He was supposed to be discharged yesterday, he came in Tuesday, I believe." "He is under special supervision and must be held here fourteen days." "He will be leaving today", says a male voice from behind. I turn around to see the same transwoman I saw yesterday in the café...

1562

We have just pulled into the hotel parking lot. We are both carefully guarding our words. "So what are we going to do about our Colombian friend", says Carl, pausing before he reaches for the door handle. "Your guess is as good as mine." "Well, we can't have him hitting on you like that." "Jealous?" "Don't expect me to dignify that with an answer." "You just did. Wow, lucky me. Pushing forty-five and two handsome young men fighting over me."

1561

I am at least as surprised as Carl by the quickness of my retort. We are quiet as we approach Westminster Highway, then I feel his hand on my knee. "Take it off. Now." He promptly removes his hand. As I stop for the red light at Number Three Road he says with a weary sigh, "I´m sorry." "Look, Carl, we have lots of time to figure it out. We've only known each other, just less than two weeks, and we have been almost constantly together. We both need time." "That's a refusal?" "Maybe a postponement." "We are called to be together." "That I have no question about. But we are going to need time, at least several months, to really get an idea of where we are going to go with this. Right now..." "Yes, the others. Chris, I am sorry, that was premature. You're right", he says as we pull into the parking lot of the hotel where Erik has been staying...

1560

"You're not going to dignify that with a reply." We are passing over the brown wet flatness of the North Arm of the Fraser River. "Christopher", he says, and then pauses as I take the right hand turnoff to the airport. "Christopher...", and now i am turning up Grarden City Way.. "Marry me, Chris." "We've only known each other for ten days...."

The Peacock 1559

" "You placed yourself under his power, you mean." "Okay." "But you didn't let him get away with it." "He seems to still have an agenda with me. I mean, I thought, or I hope, that all he really needed was meaningful connection with me, so we spent the whole day together, church, then hiking in the forest, then the coffee shop, and somehow, it all backfired." "our friend is playing hardball." "So, what are we going to do?" "What are you going to do-" "I guess I will just have to keep setting boundaries with him" "Are you atttracted to him?" "Yes." "That's going to make it difficult." "Hey, you and I are attracted to each other." Carl doesn't respond, but simply stares out his window as we approach the oak Street bridge...

The Peacock 1558

"We went to Wreck Beach." "No way." "Well, we did get as far as the first gun tower." "Then what." "i dragged him up the trail with me and told him to never pull something like that on me again." "Pull what on you?" "He basically took the lead. We were walking in the forest near Spanish Banks, after hiking around a lot. We were at church erlier. The Anglican church on university boulevard." "How was that?" "The priest is a fag and he almost couldn't keep his eyes away from our Colombian brother." "How did Jesús respond." "He was grossed out." And then he took you to Wreck Beach."

The Peacock 1557

"Getting mom and sis onboard is going to be a challenge." "I would imagine." "But at the end of the day, it's my house, and they cannot override me, not legally anyway." "Would it come to that?" "First I need to know for sure what kind of answer I am going to give Chuck about it. But in the meantime..." "We already have lots on our plate." "That we do...So, Chris, what did you guys, you and Jesús get up to today