2026

Ethan is looking rather intense and frustrated right now, his folded fists resting in his lap while his tapping foot and restless leg say everything else. "I sometimes actually believe them", he is saying.  "Often.  that these really are just delusions, that I really am sick..."  and now looking up at us, his face twisted in distaste,..."and I will probably have to go back on meds..." "Except for one little detail, Ethan", says Kenny, "We just saw you, only just a moment ago, standing towering in our midst in the shimmering green and golden robes of Tron.  But now we have to learn to live as ordinary, but eccentric and rather strange, queer men in the here and now of 2021  For me not at all difficult because for years I lived in and out of drag as Cassandra, and still must coexist with Harriet, my female alter ego... "That must have been hard", says Erik. "Darling", says Kenny, now channelling Harriet, "it is amazing what a girl can get used to when she has to...

2024

"So, where does this leave us now?" say I, after returning Ethan's plate to the kitchen where I finished the washing up.  Carl and Erik were too distracted by his coming to finish the job right, and the counter still needed a good wiping. "Somewhere on Alison Road, UBC", quips Kenny. "Kenny", says Francois, "Would you like your old bedroom back?" "Then where are you going to sleep?" "Erik and I will both be occupying the den and the office.  They already have nice sofa beds and bedding and stuff." "No, I can sleep down here.  In a way I prefer it.  I don't want to time travel while living here again." "What are you going to do about your florist shop in Duncan?" says Erik  "Kim is going to be only Kim and not Thera so she can manage things in the meantime.  Her Thera self is back at the refuge with our lord. and with Thaddai", says Ethan...

2025

"Ethan", continues Kenny. "It is time to stop pretending, dear.  Kim was your foster mom. She took you in when you were thirteen, then she legally adopted you.  Thaddai is really Tim, her son by her second marriage, which also came to an end. " "They were my friends in Damascus," "Time to forget Damascus, and the Refuge, not Jesus, he is always with us.  But we have to stop living in other realms and start living again in the here and now, because now that is all we have." "But this isn't all that we are." "Of course not.  But if you don't want to end up a blithering mess of wasted genetic material languishing on meds in a locked ward again then you are going to have to live the lie with the rest of us.  We can no longer have it both ways." "I am Tron.  Also Adrian, formerly of ancient Armenia, then Necodemia, then Damascus and finally Jerusalem where I was martyred."  And now he is indeed Tron, standing and a gleaming glory of emerald and golden robes towering in our midst.  And yes, we are all seeing him now in his glorified form, but the glory now is diminishing, and again standing there, in T shirt and shorts, Ethan, random bike dude, foster child and mental patient.  He resumes his seat. "It doesn't have to be either or", says Kenny.  "It is also both and, Ethan.  But we have to live where we are." 

2023

"that just doesn't square...at all", says Erik. "Have you always lived in the same place?" "In a farm house near Cobble Hill." "And surely you have neighbours." "We have a few." "And surely some of them have noticed that a middle aged woman and two young men staying the same as they were twenty-five years ago...must be a little bit...odd?" "They don't know", says Ethan. "They don't know...what? "That our being nearby also affects their own perceptions of time and space.  Everyone there is in a state of collective unknowing." "How could that be?" "That was then, but now that the two dimensions have converged, both Thera and Thaddai ar back at the Refuge, as permanent guests, and I alone have been given dispensation to dwell here among you." "Ethan", says Kenny. "Sometime very soon, you and I are going to have to have a little talk.

2022

"Wait a minute", says Carl, evidently doing mental math calculations, "How many years ago was that again?" "Twenty-five." "Were you even born yet", he says to Ethan. "I was much the same as I am now.  As were both Thaddai and Thera, or Kim.  Thaddai is now known as Duncan, after the town where we are living..." "And you are now off your meds." "I am speaking the truth", says Ethan, calmly and without any drama in his voice. Kenny has rather a strange look on his face right now, but he is not saying anything. Yes, i remember that look very well, pure unfliltered distaste, when he knows he has just been handed a plaetter of bullshit and is still wondering who to dump it all over. "Curiouser  and curiouser", say I. "What exactly was the name of those pills again", says Francois drily, "You know, the ones that Mother gave you..." "Suddenly Kenny glares at Tron and says, "Ethan, you did not even show up at our doorstep till just fifteen yeas ago when you were a scrawny little thirteen year old." Ethan bows his head quietly, not quite ready to dignify him with an answer...

2021

"Are you still taking meds?" say I. "My mom helped me go off them, the mental health team tried to get a court order to get me back on them, but except for my so-called delusions, the court psychiatrists found me to be coping very well within the accepted boundaries for things." "Does your mother know where you are?" says Carl, trying to use humour to dull the ache of jealousy. "Kim knows everything about us, including the Refuge, where she has also visited", says Kenny. "Kim", says Tron, "is also Thaddai's mother, Thera, and yes, Thaddai also lives with her in Duncan, and works part time in the florist shop." "The family that deludes together colludes together", quips Kenny, laughing. "But you guys also saved my life. You were the ones who fished me out of the water and brought me to our Lord for healing

2020

"There would be more room in the house in New West", says Carl in the subdued rigid tone that can be best understood as fluent jealous boyfriend, even though we are not boyfriends.   "I am supposed to be here", says Ethan. "Orders?" says Kenny. "Exactly so.  Orders. "Welcome", says Francois, getting up and extending his hand to Ethan, who stands up and enfolds him in an affectionate bearhug. "Where have you been living previously?" asks Erik, always the practical Swede. "Apart from the dream sequences of being in that mansion, and my sense of really being an early Christian martyr, I was forced to live with my mother by court order." "Court order?" say I.  "What were you doing" "I was living in a shared house with other students, but started going around naked.  I would tie my keys and wallet around my neck, then get on my bike and ride to school...I also wore my helmet...in my birthday suit." "Whatever for?" says Carl. "i was often reliving the trauma of being crucified, of hanging naked for total public exposure.  Somehow, it helped me feel close to God, and then I landed in a locked room at the Eric Martin institute.  I was diagnosed with schizoaffective and schizotypal disorder, put on meds and ordered to live with Mom...

2019

He seems visibly shaken as he pours over again the document, then appears to be reading and studying it again.  Then he picks up the pen and signs both pages "That was Jesus who greeted us in the garden.", say I to Ethan. "And he returned me to the Refuge with him.  We talked together.  He said that I should not continue the theme with you that we were discussing together this morning, and then he told me I was free to return, but also warned me that I would forget again.  I always forget." "We always forget", says Kenny.  "I live in my mother's condo in Duncan, and you deliver flowers for my florist business.  I would give you a raise, but you should know that I have just retired.  However, I could put in a good word for you to Kim." "i'm going to be living here, if that's okay with you guys", he says, gesturing to his backpack.  "Is there room?" "We have two nice bedrooms available in the basement", I reply.  "I will show them to you after lunch and you can pick either one..."

2018

Ethan has just removed his bike helmet, which he is resting on his left knee and he is carefully studying Kenny's hand drafted document.  Carl has just placed before him on the coffee table a plate loaded with Costco potato salad, buttered sourdough bread, cheese and tomato slices and large black olives from a tin.  "Thanks", he says without looking up. He further studies the document, then looks perplexed, "Could you explain this to me please?" "Does nothing here ring familiar to you, Ethan", says Kenny. "Kenny!" he says suddenly, turning to look at my old friend. "So you do remember me." "I was working in your florist shop...in Duncan...Remember?  I was doing bike deliveries. "And you spent the night with us in Carl's mansion near Chilliwack." "That I did." I have just sat down on Ethan's right.  "Do you remember none of the story you were telling us?" "Before I started working for Kenny two years ago, I was studying ancient church history at Malaspina College.  So I was telling you about what it was like under the persecutions of Diocletian." "What else do you remember", says Carl, pulling up a chair from the dining room table. "We were eating chocolate chips and drinking milk like a bunch of kids.  It was lots of fun." "The next morning, you came into the bathroom while I was stepping out of the shower", say I.  "We were both naked." His handsome olive toned face is reddening and he mumbles, "Sorry." "Nothing to be at all sorry about.  We both comported ourselves like chaste Christian gentlemen." And Ethan sputters, "Yeah, dammit", and now we are all laughing. "And then, after we were both dressed, we went onto the grounds through the gardens, to a southern magnolia tree in early bloom.  There were two peacocks, a blue and a green one, and there was a beautiful teenage boy waiting for us, and then you two went off together..." Ethan's eyes are widening, and yes he is now remembering.  "Oh my God", he says, dropping his fork on the plate..."Oh my God!"

2017

"Ethan", say I, simultaneously shocked, delighted and irritated, "How did you find us here?" "I saw your car pass me when I arrived in New Westminster, so I thought of following you.  I almost went in to visit you in the big old mansion in Queen's Park, but there were too many people around so I rode away, but when I came back your car was just leaving, so I continued to follow. "Would you like to come in for lunch?  We are still eating and there's lots of food."  And I am remembering my own father's tradition of hospitality which, despite my own selfish and solitary nature, I am bound and determined to uphold, if only to honour his memory while living in his house. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble." "No trouble at all.  And please take off your shoes, if you don't mind.  Thanks, you can just leave them over here." "François, this is Ethan, who spent the night with us in the mansion.  He was so taken by our hospitality he decided to follow us all the way here on his bike." "I remember you", says Francois.  "From the Refuge.  Your name is Tron." "Ethan", he says politely. "Come sit with me here on the couch.  Christopher will bring you some lunch, won't you please, Christopher?" "Oh, you don't have to ask. "  Francois is showing him the document he has just drafted out and which we have all signed...

2015

"Second point:  There is a tendency of losing time, but not in a linear or Newtonian sense, as we understand time.  One can pass days there and not one second has passed in the real world, or vice versa, or it can match perfectly our concept of linear time.  Christopher Jones, our friend, is like an open portal between the dimensions, and his memory can be uneven, but still consistent.  Others who have been there are more apt to fall into temporary or long term amnesia.  He is also vulnerable to being slapped with a bogus mental health diagnosis because of his wonderful spiritual gift." Kenny pauses, to gently shovel some potato salad in his mouth.   "MMMM"...he says, chewing thoughtfully..."Good ol' Costco..." "Third point...People such as me, or Amaris, formerly Letitia, have lived at the Refuge long term, but often forget, or process the experience as a series of dreams, plus, our time spent in so-called real life often seems uninterrupted or unimpeded by the experience.  And we also have personages there such as angels, holy ministers, and Christian martyrs from almost two thousand years ago, such as Tron, who can easily appear here in the real world as ordinary human beings, sometimes losing their own memory of the refuge or their true identity."  And now we are signing it again.

2016

"Does this seem to cover everything?" says Kenny, receiving back from Francois the signed document. "I think that should work for now", say I. "So that if there is any doubt over the veracity of these recollections should they occur, especially when we all have succumbed to collective amnesia", says Kenny, "then we can refer back to this document."  And now I am reminded of another side to Kenny I seem to have forgotten, but respect and admire: he was always very efficient and very thorough.  He said he had to  become that way from the very process and constant hard work of living in and out of drag as Cassandra. "I have just finished eating", says Francois, "So while Carl and Erik...hint, hint...are cleaning up and doing the dishes, I can transcribe this onto my laptop and send everyone copies, including our friends who are absent.  And given how stubborn we can all be when we can't remember, I also recommend that we post the handwritten original in a highly visible place, perhaps the fridge door." and now there are three loud knocks on the front door and I am about to choke on the slice of vintage cheddar I have just put in my mouth, because I have heard that same knock oh very recently.  Carl gets up to open the door, and into my father's living room steps none other than Tron, or Ethan, random bike dude...

2014

Amaris is suddenly gone, perhaps disappeared, but Kenny right now is seated alone on the couch. "Where did she go?" "Who." "Your friend from the Refuge. Amaris." "She wasn't here" "What?" I am silently appealing. first to Erik, now to Carl. "Did...Did Kenny come here alone?" "I have been with you since yesterday", he says, a slight perplexed smile adorning his lips. "I am afraid he is telling the truth"; says Carl. Erik?" "I think you should let me explain a thing or two", says Kenny. "Both versions are correct. I was here with you guys since we ran into you yesterday in the café, and I only just arrived here ten minutes ago." "But"...and now the words are failing me. This is happening again. "And your friend?" "I imagine she's still in Richmond. Chris...it's okay, you are a portal between the two dimensions that have just come together. It is all true. But right now you are with us... All I can do right now is sit back, quiet, stil, and breathe, slowly, rhythmically, deepy, slowly, rhythmicaly, deeply, slowly, rhythmically , deeply. This is all too much, this has all gone way beyond too much. Alice in Wonderland, anyone. And now I am singing out loud, "One pill makes you bigger, and one pill makes you small; and the ones that mother gave you don't do anything at all..."and now my voice rises in operatic flourish, chanelling the young grace Slick..."Go ask Alice....when she's ten feet tall..." Carl is clapping. "I didn't know you could sing like that, Chris...Have you had voice training?" "What I am supposed to do with all this", and now my voice rises to a near scream..."What am I supposed to do.." Kenny places his hand on my shoulder, and his touch is calming. "Chris, Jesus sent me to be with you to help you with this transition. Even though our two dimensions have come together they have unleashed a cosmic storm, and we are to wait for things to get calm again. One thing I would like to propose to all of us, and this under the mandate of our young Lord"...He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a note pad and a pen..."while we are all remembering now what happened, I am going to write it all down and we are all going to sign it. Whenever anyone of us slips into amnesia or falters into the other side, we can simply review this document together. Is it a deal?" We are eating buffet style in the living room, and Kenny has shoved his plate of food aside on the coffee table in order to focus on note taking.  "Okay, he says, to begin with, "The Refuge is a real place that exists outside of real time as we know it.  We have all been there.  It occupies the top of a small mountain on an uncharted Gulf island that now is suddenly on the map, with a tiny populated village.  Even though we have all been there, in the company of Jesus as a youth of sixteen or so in appearance only, and his parents, Joseph and Mary, who appear very aged but also strong and robust.  We also have to accept the possibility that with the merging of the dimensions, the Refuge may or may not be visible or traceable to the mortal eye....everyone here, Chris, Carl, Francois, and Erik...will you agree to add your signature...I see everyone is nodding...Okay, put down your forks and get busy..."  He passes the notepad to me with a pen.  I sign it, then pass it to Francois, who does the same, and passes it to Erik, then to Carl, all signing the document, then Carl returns it to Kenny...

2011

A loud confident knock sounds on the front door, and I have just sprung from out of the kitchen to answer it, almost knocking down Carl who was just getting up to do the same. And here they are, Kenny, with Amaris standing on his left. He is smiling broadly as they proceed their way in before I can say anything. "You sly old dog you", he says, slipping off his shoes by the door, Amaris following suit. "You didn't give me the address because you knew if it wasn't really me we would be lost." "And you didn't need to wait to be asked to take off your shoes", as we enter the living room, and he already knows his way around. Before claiming a spot on the couch next to Amaris, Kenny chimes, "You haven't done one single thing to change this place. It is exactly as I remember it." Then, glancing around, he notes, "Except for that landscape painting, the small one by the window." "Dad, just a year before he died, was giving a lot of support to Leonora Vandervene. "She was married to, what's his name, Cornelius, or Larry." "You do have a gdood memory. Larry passed away and..." "Yes, I remember, Leonora was an artist and that does look like her work. Beautiful..."

2008

"I suppose I could get some food together", says Francois, as he presses send, then shuts his laptop. "I can do it", say I. "What have we got?" "There's a ton of Costco potato salad in the fridge", says Francois, swinging his legs down to the floor. "We don't shop at Costco." "Chelsea does, she came over this morning to get her cat and to dump the potato salad on us because she bought too much." "Easy to do at Costco", says Erik. "Kenny and Amaris are coming for lunch by the way." "who?" says Carl. "My old friend. He lived here." "He's dead." "Carl, you already saw him alive last night. Remember?" "I already told you we didn't see him. Right, Erik?" "We did see him", he says. "Now I remember. With Ethan." "Oh my God", says Carl, his eyes widenng dramatically, "You're right..."

2009

Following Francois into the kitchen, I say, "Francois, you remember meeting Kenny yesterday, right?" "Kenny?" "At the Refuge." "Where?" He is rummaging in the fridge, first taking out the huge container of potato salad which he drops onto the counter. "You don't remember?" And now my friend is standing leaning against the counter with his fingertips pressed to his forehead, as though enduring intense pain. "i can't talk about this right now", he says, returning now to the fridge. "Well, they're on their way over for lunch, right now, and should be arriving any minute." "Who?" "Kenny...and Amaris. The woman we also met there." "How do you know it's really him", says Francois, fixing widened and scared eyes on me. "Quite simple. When I texted him this morning, I did not give him the address. He lived here with us for five years. It it's really him, they will both find their way here without any help from me." "Christopher", hollers Carl from the living room. "Come out here. Right now!" "I'm helping Francois with lunch." "It can wait. Get out here. I want to talk to you." "Not in that tone you don't." "This is important!" Francois gestures with his head that I should go. "You bellowed?" say I standing and facing Carl from the dining room. "Sit down, please". He is pointing at the couch. "And I'm sorry for yelling. Please." "What." "I remember everything now." "Me too", says Erik. "About Kenny?" "He was with us, all the time. He came out to the house with us. And then I forgot, and he disappeared." He looks up at me, Erik too, obviously tormented. "What exactly has been going on?" "Kenny sent me a text today, saying that he wasn't there, that he and Amaris did see us in the coffee shop yesterday, but didn't go in. But they'll be here in a minute, and then, maybe something will be explained." "This has all gone way beyond creepy", says Carl. "I couldn't agree more". affirms Erik.

2007

It has been a long drive, and Francois is alone in my father's house, horizontal on the couch, as always, propped up by cushions and writing on his laptop. "You're back", is all he says, just glancing up, then resuming his typing. "Wow, how's that for a welcome", says Carl, with grim humorous good will. Without looking up, he mutters, "Did I forget to wag my tail?" "Oh, you cat people", says Carl, letting himself drop onto the other half of the sofa, just missing Francois' bare feet as he pulls them out in the nick of time. "Always a flatterer." Erik and I have each taken an armchair. "Are you the only one here?" say I. "Until two minutes ago, yes, I would say so." "What are you working on?" asks Erik. "A letter to my mother who is finally recovered from covid. Her husband is still struggling but seems to be rallying. What about your mom, Carl?" "She is about to be discharged from hospital. I imagine she will be staying in New West, there is more room plus Melissa is a lot better with her than I am." "And, Jason and Lazarus?" "They went over to Maureen's this morning. They will be staying with the girls... and George and Jeffrey are hoping to lease the condo from you longterm" "We've already agreed", say I. "There is a text on my phone from Kenny: "Amaris and I have just left Richmond. May I presume we are invited for lunch?"

2006

There were limits to what we could pack and carry from the mansion, but as we are all filing in and out of the house with boxes, and unpacking everything, there is a collective sense of resignation over having to make do. Everyone did strip their own bed and bagged and carried with them their own bedding. Carl had gone online to order and purchase the seventeen mattresses and boxsprings, all single, and the last ones were delivered yesterday, presumably while we were doing other thngs, but he did clandestinely explain to me that he had already hired and mobilized various other helpers connected with the ones who painted the house. And now Jeff Bezos is just a little bit richer thanks to my friend's resourcefulness. But we have to leave the others, Melissa, Sheila, Glen, Michael and Matthew, to do their own settling in. Maureen has already agreed to lend two of her spare bedrooms to Jason and Lazarus, and George and Jeffrey refuse to leave my condo downtown, which is fine with me, leaving more room in my father's house for the rest of us. I am back behind the steering wheel of my car, as Carl and Erik both join me, and now we are on our way back to my father's house....

2005

It is lunchtime and here we are, both cars in Queen's Park, pulling up in front of the Queen Anne style Victorian doll's house. And it is lovely, the sky blue exterior with the white trim woodwork and fin de sicle curlicues all suggesting a festive summer sky. "You're new home, Glen", says Carl, forcing a smile, for all the stress we are under today. "It is beautiful", he replies with measured perfunctory indifference. Knowing far better than Glen, who has lived the most sheltered existence one could imagine, instead of lecturing him about how fortunate he is, given that many men of his age and lack of means are already sleeping under bridges and crowding homeless shelters, I dutifully hold my tongue. The house smells and looks freshly painted, and the small bits of furniture we found time to purchase do not do the place justice, leaving the rooms looking underfurnished, and all the walls white and starkly naked, but each bedroom imcluding the occasional rooms, seventeen in all, has a bed, and Melissa has had the forethought to bring enough bedding from the mansion to guarantee sweet dreams to everyone staying here tonight. She also took the time with her brother's help to empty the refrigerators, and soon we will be having lunch, our first meal in our, or should I say, in their new home, buffet style, natch, because we also are lacking a table and chairs.

2004

In my car we have besides the driver, me, Carl, Erik, and Glen. Behind us are following Melissa in her vehicle with Sheila, Michael her son, and Matthew. we have just bypassed the diner, and we are counting on a long drive given that traffic is already heavy. It is a preternaturally quiet drive, in this car, anyway. I have put on a classical cd, the Mozart Requiem and it appears to be to everyone's taste. Between Tron or Ethan last night, and the cops searching the house for bodies this morning, we are all, shall we say, lost for words. It is almost as though I am alone in the car, though still aware of this pressing burden of presence. We are past Abbotsford, and the Mission exit is now just behind us, but I don't reckon we are stopping till New Westminster, where I imagine the new house awaits at least some of the people in our two cars, all freshly painted and furnished like a big happy, if slightly creepy, Victorian era doll house...

2003

"But Kenny.. we were both there. Yesterday. Remember?" They seem to be taking their time finding their way to my car, which is okay. This cannot wait. "I was dreaming about that place last night. We were both there. And several friends of yours. But that was a dream" "You were also here with me last night, in a different mansion, and some of those few friends. Including Tron. But now this morning, you are not here, and no one remembers you, and Tron, who was Ethan, a random guy on his bike who spent last night here, but..." "Wait a minute...Tron? "Lives at the refuge, the big house you were in on that island, tall, dark hair, gold and green robes, fourth century christian martyr." "O my God Chris. We have to talk. Look, I can be in Vancouver today, I am staying with my friend Amaris at her parents' house in Richmond. We actually saw you guys in the Waves coffee shop on Broadway, or thought it was you, and we walked in, and you and I looked at each other, and we knew each other right away, but Amaris said it was too soon, so we left." "Come over to Dad's house this afternoon. Keep in touch in the meantime. I have to hang up now because I'm in the car and they're coming, I will be driving them back with me into town...I will call you as soon as we're there...

2002

The young cop appears to be introducing Carl to a short thin slightly bent elderly man. They are shaking hands. The real Cosme, I presume, and now Carl is bringing him over to me. "Christopher, I would like you to meet Cosme." The old man has thin greyish hair with whisps of faded auburn, an aquiline nose and a rugged, creased face that was once considered handsome. His dark eyes were likely once bright and fiery, but now seem dull and a little evasive. "How are you" is all he says in accented English, then, before I can reply, he returns to the young cop. "They are just about to bring out the dogs to search the house. No one here is under suspicision, so we are all clear to go." My phone is vibrating again. "I'm ready now, so if that's okay I can wait in my car." A text from Benjain Butterfield: "Chris, you clever sly dog you", another code expression of our friendship, "You blew my cover, Yes, it's your old friend Kenny, Kenny Liam McLauchlin, also known as Cassandra the old street tart, and Harriet, of course is always here with me. I am alive and well. I was fished out of the waters in a coma and cared for by loving strangers in a big house on one of the unknown Gulf islands. Long story, but they helped me connect with my mom here in Duncan, where I have lived under a new identity ever since. oh, we have so much catchng up to do."