The Peacock 1836

"So you are going to be living here, Caspar", says Carl.  "Full time and permanently, it looks like." "And us as well", says Stella, gesturing with her head towards her still comatose brother, who remains upright in his chair, his eyes closed, while the angelic Lan still stands there at his side.  Her hand has not moved from his shoulder. "Lan, that is your name?" says Sarah. "It is one of my many names", she answers, though I am still unsure of their gender.  "For this age I am called Lan, though our Lord, and men and women have had other names for me down through the ages." "What other names?" "I am also called Gabriel, when I visited and announced to the young virgin that she would give birth to the Messiah, our Saviour. "You are the Archangel Gabriel!" she almost shrieks. "I have many names, my beloved child.  When the spirit rests on me I then become the Holy Wisdom of God." "How old would you be?"  she says, bashfully, "If you don't mind me asking." "When the remotest ancestors of your kind were beginning to migrate out of what they now call Africa, that is when our Lord sang me into existence.  We knew already what  threat your kind would pose to the rest of the earth, because already had you fallen from the grace that breathed you into being, so our lord summoned more help to come to the planet's aid." "That would have been more than a hundred thousand years ago." "It seems only like yesterday."  There is something wonderfully sardonic and playful, but infinitely wise and loving about Lan's way of speaking to Sarah, and to the rest of us.  Like a patient and humorous teacher tutoring some very slow pupils. "Sang you into existence.  Who?" "He is here with his blessed parents preparing your dinner." "Jesus." "But who else?"  Lan is smiling,  her, or maybe, his hand still resting on Sven Lindstrom's shoulder.  "For he shall save his people from their sins..."