The Peacock 1932

"How much time do you actually spend there?" says Carl.  "At the refuge." "That is the hardest part to explain to you guys", says Kenny.  "That place, and our lord, are completely out of time...or out of time as we know time.  I don't think I'm making myself very clear, but, apart from a period after I was thrown from the Lion's Gate Bridge, I have always been in Duncan.  My first memory was with some woman named Kim who apparently already knew me.  We were seated in a coffee shop in Duncan and drawing up plans for going into business together selling flowers and plants.  I already had my mother's condo I was living in, and did not have a clue how I got there.  Just after we bought the business together, I asked Kim what she knew, and she confirmed that she was  third party cosigning with me for the condo with my mom, but beyond that wasn't saying anything.  Nothing at all.  She simply said she couldn't tell me anything and ordered me to never ask her again.  But that's when the dreams all started, the first dreams I had since the dreams I was having while in a coma, trying to instruct you, Chris, about my journal." "Those were dreams about being in the refuge?"  I ask. "That is correct, only Carl and Erik were also in the dream along with Amaris and a whole whack of other people,  Then at five this morning Amaris is on the phone with me to say she was at the front door of my building and that we had to get started..."

2031

"Just listen to you two", says Francois deadpan, rolling his eyes. "Our imperturbable straight man",quips Carl. "And don't you forget it ". he replies. "With everyone kind of scattered", say I, "I'm wondering how we are going to organize meetings and get togethers and suchlike, especially with the future of the mansion being up for grabs." "There is that", says Carl. "Any word on the body search?" says Francois. "They said they'll call me at the end of the day." "where are George and Jeffrey going to fit in with the changes", say I. "I'm not altogether comfortable about their being in your condo downtown", says Carl.  "They are both alcoholics and all the candy in the world lies there at their fingertips." "They're leaving", says Francois. "Oh really?" "We talked about it yesterday.  They, or George, said they do not feel ready for the kind of sustained commitment that is required.  Plus, they are both dragging their butts about AA and recovery." "That is so sad", says Carl, "Sad, and so very frustrating..."

2031

"Butterfly Effect", I reply, stupefied. "So where does this leave us now", says the ever pragmatic, almost always unflappable Francois. "It's gonna be one day at a time", says Carl. "What exactly are going to be your plans here with us, Kenny?" say I. "for me, I have come home.  I do plan to keep my mother's condo in Duncan, as a place to retreat to when things get a little intense, and yes, things will always be getting a little intense here, and so Christopher, you will always be welcome to join me for the retreat. I am afraid I cannot extend the generosity to the rest of you since, for the simple reason, I hardly know any of you.  Chris and I are family." "Here, we are all family", says Carl, "but of course we are going to respect and uphold your boundary.  In the meantime, nobody has to worry about going hungry or homeless." "Dutch sugar daddy to the rescue", quips Kenny. "In spades, baby, in spades", is my reply. "Oh you do know how to set a girl's heart aflutter..."

2030

"Chuck told us about his three encounters with you there at the beach, then the night he slept here."  says Kenny "In your recent acquaintance", says Ethan, "He did not tell you about the Russian nuclear physicist courting his friendship, nor about his plans to take Chuck with him to Moscow to effectively train as an agent.  While you guys were  all labouring for him helping take care of street homeless people, he was also set to return, and get you, Christopher, connected in this ring of international espionage.  Then through Carl, you would both gain access to some documents that Carl's father had squirrelled away in an attic room in the mansion, all of them containing names and contact information that would have funnelled back all the required information for creating a new and improved bomb that Putin would discharge on the rest of the world for opposing his plans for annexing Ukraine, and that would be the end of everything."

2029

"Wait.  Wou know him!" "Very well", says Ethan.  "We were very close in the shelter of our Lord." "He did tell us that he spent some fifteen years at the Refuge..." "To where he has been returned.  He was about to embark on some plans with some  of you here that would have resulted not only in disaster, but would have triggered a global cataclysm." "How could that be?" says Carl, clearly troubled. "It all began with your relations with Chuck", says Kenny, "not long after I was presumed dead.  You were in deep mourning for me, then in the summer you wandered down to Wreck Beach where he was camping." "How did you know this", say I. "Right now", says Ethan, "We are in full recall of the Refuge, all of this, and someone should start recording all this before the fog sets in again, because we might end up collectively forgetting everything for a long time to come." "Ready when you are", says Francois, his laptop poised over his knees like a launching pad...

2028

"Wait a minute." Here in my wallet is Nicole's business card for Interchurch Ministries. "Hello?" she says. "Hi Nicole, it's Christopher Jones calling, you met me with Chuck last week and then you and I chatted together. " "Oh, the designated driver. Hi What can I do for you?" And her voice does indicate a very broad smile, half gleeful and half sardonic. "I am trying to get in touch with Chuck, but can't find his number anywhere. I was wondering if you could get hold of him for me?" "I was just going to call you and ask you the very same thing. We have totally lost contact with him. I can't find his number, his email, his twitter, his facebook, nothing. No one has seen or heard of him. It is as if he has disappeared entirely off the surface of the earth, or has never even existed." "That is really peculiar." "Wait, he did say something about returning to Australia..." "But how could all his contact info be suddenly obliterated from our records?" "That is peculiar. Hey Cris, I'm at Baked right now and some customers have just come in. Can I call you back in a bit?" "Yes, please do." "Any luck", says Carl. "Nicole says he has disappeared completely, and also his contact information." "You will not be hearing from him again", says Ethan...

2027

"You mean, all the rest of you here are going to have to learn to live as ordinary, but eccentric and rather strange, queer men in the here and now of 2021", mutters Francois glibly from his place on the couch.  And his dear little smile tells us the rest. "Oh, you hetero normies", scoffs Carl goodnaturedly. "Well, being the only person of colour here, surely I need something to my credit", he says smiling. "I'm not touching that", says Kenny, now laughing.  I have so missed Kenny's ready and easy laughter.  It is so good having him back. "So, Ethan,"  say I, "Welcome to our home.  "but we still need to discuss your plans while you are here, as well as our plans and vision as a community." "Shouldn't that be the plan?"  That we are a community", he replies. "We have been thrown together rather quickly, but we need to draft out a constitution." "That would be news to my ears", says Carl.  "For instance...?" "How are we going to support ourselves?" "By the largess of your own Daddy Carl", he replies. "But that is also the problem", says Francois.  "We can't just live idly at the expense of a sugar daddy." "Chuck", say I. "What about him?" "We haven't heard from him since last week." "Is his offer still relevant?" wonders Carl. "This is something I have to find out", say I, grabbing my phone from the table.  To my dismay, here I am, searching and searching my phone.  His number is not there."I cannot find his number.  Does anyone else have it?" "Not on my phone", says Carl. "Nor mine", wonders Francois. "Wait a minute", say I, rummaging through my wallet, "There happen to be a couple of other phone numbers on his card that he gave me, plus email and website.  "Wait, I found it.  Hey, this is strange.  His name and cell number aren't printed here.  Just Interchurch Urban Ministries, but here is their number. "  I hit a voicemail greeting, simply a robotic please leave your name, number and the time that you called, plus the sound of a beep, "hello Chuck, this is Christopher Jones.  I was wondering if you could give me a call please..."