The Peacock 479

 "Let's first see how I survive the month I am here for."

"Trust me when I say this, Christopher", Sheila says, "You're going to find this place very hard to leave."

"It's a beautiful place."

"It's already laid its claim on you.  Get out while you can.  Or don't.  You're right about Carl.  And his sister.  Very good people."

"This place itself is problematic", Glen says.  "This place is full of competing and conflicting presences.  We have been doing battle with some of those presences since we first arrived here.

"We have been discovering some interesting details about the history of this place since we have been reading Cosme´s journal.

"Cosme", says Sheila.  "That name is very familiar."

"That was my name when I moved here, Sheila.  Remember?"

"I don't, actually.  I came shortly after you, and you told me that you had amnesia.  But you didn't mention anything about that name."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I don't remember it actually."

"And Christopher, you also thought Cosme was your name when you first arrived here."

"Did you?" says Sheila.  "How decidedly odd."

The Peacock 478

 I am lost for words.  We all seem lost for words, three introverts together.  They seem like lovely people, Glen and Sheila, but neither really wants to carry a conversation.  Introvert that I am, I need people to talk to me.  I thrive on people talking to me, as I suppose they would as well, but I don't want to just sit there and sip coffee with two strangers that cannot or do not want to engage.  Though I do suppose we deserve each other.  I really want Carl and Sarah both to hurry up and finish the cocoa so we can start having a conversation again.  I suppose Carl has brought me out of myself, or really, pulled my head out of my ass.  That guy has a gift with people, no matter what some of the Grundies here might say about his allegedly loose morals.  

Unexpectedly Sheila says, "What brought you here, Christopher?

"My car."

"Ha-ha", she says dryly.  "Why are you here?"

"For a rest."

"Now you are really funny", she says.  "Here for a rest, in this sprawling haunted mansion all surrounded by anxious religious neurotics."

"I would hardly call Carl anxious or neurotic."

"You are right about him", Glen says.  "That guy is gold."

"He is amusing", Sheila concurs.  "Have you thought of living here?  You look like you belong,"

"You mean I look like an anxious religious neurotic", and I am laughing.

"Could do worse", she says, "Could do a lot worse,,,"

The Peacock 477

 "Is coffee already made?" says Sheila.

"It´s in the kitchen."  She goes into the kitchen and I can hear her chatting with Melissa and Carol, simply to say good morning and how lovely that they are making apple pies.    Carl has just said good morning, Sheila, and Sarah has mumbled something.  But she is brief.  This woman seems to be very economical with words..  She returns, a full mug of coffee in one hand and half full pot in the other.  Without asking, she refills our mugs, returns the pot to the kitchen, where Carol seems to be wanting to detain her.  She is talking about apples, and I can hear Sheila mention a tree that once grew in her back yard in Vancouver that produced the most fantastical golden apples.  She abruptly ends her sentence and returns to the breakfast room.

"They are making us a huge vat of hot cocoa", she says, retaking her seat.  "But first I need to wake up."

"How long have you lived here?" I ask.

"Must be around ten years", she says.

"You came around the same time as Glen?"

"We all came at once.  All in one batch."

"Instant community", says Glen.

"That's right.  You all lived on the island beforehand."

"And then they were going to bulldoze the place for condominiums", says Sheila.  "We all wanted to stay together, and then this place came up." 

The Peacock 475

The old woman trundles into the room and slowly eases herself into the chair next to Glen and just across from me.  Looking at me, she says crisply and calmly. "And you would be?"

"Christopher."  She extends her hand to shake mine, lightly.  

"Pleased to meet you.  My name is Sheila.  Do you live here?"

"Now I do.  Or so it seems, anyway."

"He is one of Carl and Melissa's guests", says Glen. "Will you have some coffee, Sheila?"

"Wouldn't mind.  I had a hell of a time waking up this morning,  Still a bit groggy."

"Are you here for the meeting?" I ask.

"Yes, but there is something else."  She turns to Glen.  "It's Matthew again."

"How is he today."

"Pretty bad.  He seems almost like Doug.  Like he's been taken possession of."

"What's he up to?"

"Ranting and raving about Carl being the Antichrist and that he and his sister have to be purged off the property, even if it is their property  Thing is, no one could get him to come down today for the meeting. Perhaps Michael could persuade him.  He still listens to him sometimes..."

The Peacock 476

 Sheila seems singularly interesting  She is neither large or small.  She doesn't appear to be one to draw attention to herself, but she clearly occupies space, more than her share.    Her grey hair is short, cut just below the ears, and she is wearing a navy blue sweatshirt and matching slacks, dressed rather like Tristan.  Right now I wonder how can such a perfectly average and ordinary looking old white woman look also so incredibly interesting, as though she is carrying some enormous secret of such dimension and weight, that were she to reveal it, the world would be immediately saved or condemned, perhaps both.

"Will Matthew be attending the meeting?"

"Will you talk to him first?"

"He does listen to Michael."

"Who has completely lost all patience with him.  Such a pity that Tristan is gone."

"Not yet", say I.  "He missed his taxi."

"I persuaded him to stay at least for the meeting this morning, " says Glen.

"Well then someone should tell him.  He adores Tristan, and also shares with him the same irrational reverence for Doug", says Sheila.

The Peacock 474

 "The thing about this house", says Glen, "Is you can never leave.  It takes possession of you.  When I arrived here on the doorstep ten years ago, I was sure I would only be here a few weeks  I had some job interviews lined up, and there were some friends ready to give me a room in their house in New Westminster.  But I just stayed.  Others from the community joined me, and we were already so used to each other after a decade or more together that we really didn't want to separate."

"You became habituated to each other."

"We really loved one another.  We still love one another.  We don't want to separate.  We want to grow old and die together.  All of us.  That is how strong the bond is.  I was all set to move on, but along came Lazarus and Adam, who themselves are completely inseparable.  Then Michael with his mother Sheila and Matthew  We couldn't imagine going it alone, or at least not without one another  I suppose the popular word for it is codependent, but so what?  That is just the language of selfishness.  We were, we are, united by God's love.  So, I suppose you could imagine that we became the core of the community here."

"Doug must have been a kind of a wild card."

"More like an atomic bomb."

Glen appears to be done with speaking for now  His head is quietly bowed over his coffee and I am searching quite lamely for any words I could offer.  I feel completely helpless, completely useless, but this man needs consolation, or comfort anyway, and I don't think he is seeking it from ne, which is just as well, because I really have nothing to give right now.

"There you are, Glen, I've been looking all over the house for you"  The voice belongs to an old woman I have never seen before.

"Oh, good morning, Sheila", he says without looking at her...

  

The Peacock 473

 "How did he hold everything together?"

"He had the presence.  The charisma."

"Like a fascist dictator,"

Glen pauses, as though seeing or knowing something for the first time.  "You're right.  Why didn't I see that?"

"Because you were too busy coping."

"Doug had us all in his thrall."

"I imagine he throve on it."

"But so did we", says Glen.  "Only the women seemed immune.  Maureen, Sarah, Jennifer.  And Sheila.  She's Michael's mother.  I don't imagine you've met her yet.  I don't imagine you even know Michael."

Glen takes another sip of coffee, and stares out the window.  "It looks like it could rain today."

"It's in the forecast anyway."

"We were his slaves.  And then Francois, poor father Francois..."

"He's okay now.  He's with us"

"Are you a member here already?"

"I'm here less than a week.  Not long enough for a novitiate."

" Not even a postulancy.  What do you think of your hosts?"

"Wonderful people.  "They want me to make my home here with them. "

"Why don't you?" Glen says, smiling.

"And that is a very good question..."