The Peacock 441

 "Just recently?"  say I.

"Very recently", he replies, then gently glares at me with warning and whispers, "Not in front of the children."

"Oh", say I following a brief pause  "Yes, I get it."

"No whispering at the table", grumbles Melissa.

"Big Mel to the rescue", says Carl.

"Don't you start", she says.  "I'm still on my first coffee."

"I'll wait then till you've finished your fourth", quips her brother, smiling.

"That would be better", she concurs.

"So Aaron", says Carl.  "You were just in Costa Rica.  For how long this time"

"About a month", he answers vaguely.

"And were you writing us there", he asks.

"I write you guys everywhere.  But now I'm at home again."

Carl, realizing that this is not the time for even his good natured brand of mischief, given that there are others present who know nothing about Aaron's interdimensional writing project, simply concurs, "And it is so utterly cool that you have found your home here among us"

"What are you writing about", says George with an ingratiating smile.

"Oh, this and that", replies Aaron, before stuffing his face with an extra large chunk of pannekoek.

The Peacock 440

 "Delicious", says Jesús, after pouring some of the Dutch syrup on his pannekoek and tasting it, but with caution, as though testing for poison.

"It reminds me a little bit of Arequipe."

"Which is?" Carol says."

"In Mexico", says Jeff, "They call it dulce de leche and it is delicious but super rich.  Best to have only a little bit.  I tried it once in Puerta Vallarta."

"When were you in Puerta Vallarta?" says George, as though challenging him.

"Years ago, before I entered seminary."

"You never told me"

"There's lots I haven't told you.  I have secrets that will be going with me to the crematorium.  "Say, Aaron, you've been down there a lot.  Ever visit Puerta Vallarta?

"I understand it's infested with Gringos.  I've spent most of my time down there in Mexico City."

"And Colombia", says Jesús, smiling.

"And in Costa Rica.  I was just there recently."

The Peacock 439

 "I have never had these kinds of.. what are they, crepes...or are they pancakes", says Carol, pouring a generous torrent of maple syrup over her pannekoek.

"They´re whole wheat pannekoeken" says Jennifer.

"Melissa says, "Brilliant adaptation of my grandmother's recipe."

"You mean Grandma's cook.  She never had to lift a finger in her life", says Carl.

"Details, details", mutters Melissa  "But you are right.  They were fabulously wealthy."

"Obscenely", says Carl.

"Don't start  We have them to thank for this beautiful house we are in."

Carl grows a little bit pale.  He almost says something, then refrains and fills his mouth with half a banana.

"I thought I'd tinker with the recipe a bit, for something a bit healthier but still every bit as delicious",  says Jennifer.

"Our number  one cook when we lived together in my house",says Maureen proudly.  

"She kept us alive", Sarah says, as though eulogizing her.

"What is this?" says Jesús, gesturing to the other cruet  

"Stroop", says Melissa.  "It's a Dutch specialty.  Try it."

The Peacock 438

 "Oh, there you are big brother", says Melissa in her customary flat tone, "So what dragged your sorry little ass out of bed this morning."

"Oh, nothing but the sweet smile and dulcet voice of my darling little sister", he says, reaching for the coffee and finding an empty chair with Carol, Francois and Sarah.

"Oh, you always did have a way with words", she says tonelessly. "That is why the men all love you."

"Oh, don't start", he mutters, loudly stirring his coffee with a musically tinkling spoon.  "What needs to be done?."

"Too late baby, it's just too late.  We're almost ready."  Only one of the pannekoeks seems a little bit scorched, otherwise, Jennifer has declared perfection.  Melissa picks up a huge serving plate loaded down with banana, pineapple, papaya and melon and kiwi and strawberries.  I pick up one of the platters laden with gigantic pannekoeks, languishing like monster crepes one on top of the other.  In the breakfast room, wait standing each behind a chair at the table, George, Jeff,  Maureen, Aaron, and Jesús.  I cannot quite make out the  theme of the conversation that we have all walked in on.  The morning sun streams in like a divine revelation through the French door windows, and, for this reason, there remains no question as to why the room has been appointed for the first meal of the day  Carl comes in carrying two small pitchers, one filled with maple syrup, and the other with a mysterious, probably Dutch, concoction.  He takes his place at the head of the table, and intones a gentle "Thank you, Jesus, for all and for all of us here", and we all resound in unison the Amén, then one by one we each take our seat and now begin together this gift of divine love, this gift of the new day together...

Thje Peacock 437

 "That is so like something out of Cosme´s journal", says Carol

"Cosme?" says Sarah.

"I don't suppose you were here when Jesús and Aaron were translating it from the Spanish for us", Francois says

"Oh, but I was the second time, just yesterday,  That is so bizarre.  But I must have forgotten  And I have to admit that my head doesn't feel very clear this morning", says Sarah.

"How is your coffee, dear?" says Carol, maternally, and I can tell, while watching the mixture sizzling and thickening in the giant skillet, that she has already adopted the younger woman as a kind of surrogate daughter.  They do seem very fond of each other.  Francois, too, seems to fit well with both of them, while being a man, but his presence is inordinately gentle, and I can hardly resist the desire to simply keep looking at him.

"I might benefit from a refill soon, but not right now", Sarah says.

I don't ordinarily find black men attractive or unattractive.  I think François is the first African I have ever really noticed, and he is truly beautiful.  I worry that I might be exoticizing him, but no, I think I just really really like this man.  

"Pay attention, Christopher", barks Melissa, "We don't want it to burn." And with her help I pry the giant pancake loose from the skillet which slides gently onto the large dinner plate she is holding.  
We have four such skillets going simultaneously, and we have fourteen of those buggers to cook.

The Peacock 436

 "I have had some pretty strange dreams in my time but this one really takes the cake."  She takes a prolonged bitter sip of her coffee, looks up and sighs openly.

"But darling", Carol purrs.  "Don't keep us in suspense.  Tell us please, about your dream.  All about it.  We're all ears."

"I don't even think it was a dream  He was right there, in the room with me."

"But who, darling.  Who?"

"This man."

"You had a gentleman in your room", says Francois with a sly little smile.

"I would hardly call him a gentleman.  He was tall, seated in the chair, dressed all in white  Like a robe really.  A strikingly handsome man, blonde, blue eyes, high cheekbones."

"You had a handsome gentleman in your bedroom last night", says Francois, giggling.

"I sat up in my bed and I wanted to say something, but lost my voice.  I was seized by complete, absolute panic" she asks.  "All he said, with a rather strange smile, was 'We are waiting for you. Sarah.  Remember the birds.'  Then I fell asleep, and didn't know anything till I woke up?"

The Peacock 435

 Carol pours Sarah a cup of coffee, which she seems to prefer to drink black and unsweetened.

"Nothing in your coffee, dear?" Carol says as though purring like a very contented cat.

"I take my coffee the same way I like to take life?"  " says Sarah, though in her asking question tone, she doesn't appear to sound very sure of herself.

"Black and bitter?" she asks, still purring.

"I prefer everything to be naked and unadorned.  I always want to get to the heart of things."

"But don't you like to enjoy yourself?"

Francois says "The truth can be very enjoyable."  They are seated in a cosy triangle of chairs, as though they have always been one very happy and contained little high school clique.  Sarah appears to absolutely luxuriate in the presence of Carol, with a light little smile resting on her lips, her dark  eyes twinkling like twin stars in the firmament.

"We were talking about dreams", says Carol, "Or about Francois' dreams", while I begin pouring the sweet golden batter onto the sizzling butter that has melted to perfection. "Do you have dreams, Sarah?"

"Yes, and I had a real doozy last night."

"Oh Darling, you must tell us all about it", says Carol.