The Peacock 685

 "What did happen today in the garden?" say I.

"Divine visitation.  Nothing else", says Francois.

We are clearly not ready to talk about it.  Right now we are supporting one another following a traumatic, though sublime encounter.

"Read some more?" says Carl.

"Let me", say I, trading Francois the chocolate chips for the diary.

"No chocolate for me?" says Carl with a pout.

"You prefer beer.  Remember?" says Francois, giggling.  "Oh, alright, Brother Carl, you can have some chocolate too."  He hands him the bag.

"October 8.  This looks very interesting."

I am surprised I actually remember this time what happened.  I simply was not expecting to run into him downtown, but there he was, standing in front of the Royal Bank building at Hastings and Granville.  This time he came over to me before the light could change and I could get away.  "Come with me", he said, and strangely and dumbly, I simply obeyed and walked with him as far as Richards Street.  We entered a vintage office building. where we boarded the elevator.  We came out to the top floor, and stepped into an elegantly appointed lobby, with a mezzanine above of other rooms.  It really looked more like the foyer of a grand old mansion, and I had this weird feeling of disorientation.  We walked together up an elegant curving grand staircase...

The Peacock 684

 "That tall blonde guy who abducted them to the house here, back in the sixties", say I.  "Who do you think he was?"

"You mean, what do I think he was?" says Carl querulously.

"You mean it isn't obvious?" says Francois.  The rather depleted bag of chocolate chips is resting on the left arm of the chair he is sitting in.  I suddenly crave more chocolate.  Quietly, almost blindly, I instinctively, without thinking, raise myself up from the chair and extend my right hand.

"What's the magic word?" says Carl.

"Gimme!" I reply, and laughing, Francois tosses me the bag of chocolate chips.

"Shouldn't we be drinking beer instead" says Carl, laughing.

"Shut up", I tell him while reaching my hand into the bag of chocolate chips.

"What about that guy we saw in the garden?" says Carl.

"That was no guy", says Francois quietly.

"But, you don't think", he says

"Not in the least.  Totally different everything.  You done with those chocolate chips yet?"

The Peacock 683

 "So this is an invasion?" say I.

"The long and short of it is", says Carl, "They are supposed to be here to help us."

"Whitey to the rescue", says François.  "And given their resume with the Third Reich, don't expect me to welcome them for a cup of tea.

"If they even exist", say I.

"And that", says Carl, "Is a big if."

"Carl", says François with a naughty little smile, "You have blonde hair and blue eyes...

"Don't even go there!" he says laughing.  "Besides, I'm too short."

"What about those guys we just heard about in the journal of Cosme?" say I.

"Curiouser and curiouser", says Carl.

"You don't think..." says Francois.

"No, I don't do conspiracy theories.  I am a journalist," says Carl, "But I'm not that kind of journalist...."

The Peacock 682

 Carl has his phone out and is doing a search.  "Yes, here it is", he says,  "Ready for this?  He begins to read.

Documents leaked by NSA whistleblower Edward Snowden conclusively prove that the United States has been ruled by a race of tall, white space aliens who also assisted the rise of Nazi Germany in the 1930s.

Now this:

Salla, who has a PhD in government from the University of Queensland in his native Australia, doesn't believe it. He figures the dentist trip is just a cover story. He believes Ike went to Edwards Air Force Base, where he met with two ETs with white hair, pale blue eyes and colorless lips.

And from our own Canada, from the lips of none other than a former defense minister:

Hellyer used to believe that there were between 2 and 12 different species of alien. Now, he says he's received reports that there might be as many as 80.

In case you feel you might have met one in your home town, some are tall ("Nordic blondes"), some are short ("Short Grays"), and some look like aliens in cartoons.

The Peacock 681

 "Next entry?" says Carl.

Francois begins to read  

"Slow day in the store today, hardly anyone came in.  We are still running our sale on potted herbs, but only the basil seems to be going.  No one likes thyme anymore, so we could hardly say that thyme is running out.  You can tell by the quality of my puns, Harriet, that I had a crappy work day.  Well, not crappy, just slow.  Everything seems to be moving at the turgid speed of a constipated turd.  Both Jim and Chris are downstairs in the kitchen, getting supper ready  I offered to help, but they said they want to surprise me.  These two are both so kind.  I seem to have woken up this morning with three scratches on my leg, just below the right knee.  I have no idea how they might have got there.  I have not been walking among any brambles or thorns lately.  And there is no cat in the house, and these do look like cat scratches.

"Lindstrom, or Blondie?  Yeah, that's it, blame it on Blondie.  I think I am going to be rather obsessed with that strapping Nordic god for a while anyay.  Seriously, I don't even know if he's human.  I heard recently about this race of Nordic looking space aliens that are supposed to be staying here on earth and they are advising heads of government.  Who would have imagined?.  Time to loosen my tin foil hat before I start getting a migraine...

The Peacock 680

 Says Francois, "The next entry is October 15.  Want me to read it?"

"Go ahead", I reply.  I am aware that this is getting closer and closer to the date of Kenny's death, which would have occurred December 14.

"My first session with the psychiatrist.  He seems okay, around fifty, easy going, not a bad sense of humour.  I'm not sure about compassion and empathy, but he doesn't appear hard-hearted anyway.  We dwelled a bit on my childhood.  Nothing really unusual.  Lived with my mom and younger brother from age ten after she kicked dad out of the house, then I got into drugs at sixteen and left school early, only to land in a foster home, then back to hotel Mom and school again, but then back to drugs and before I knew it I was turning tricks dressed up as Cassandra.  He asked me questions about my masculine identity, then I told him to stop being an idiot, that I am both and neither.  So, then he tried to probe into my lack of male role modelling and I replied that if he continued to go there then he should go to hell and I will look for another therapist.  I told him about Lindstrom, just a little bit,about the night in Hotel Vancouver.  Next session he wants us to try hypnosis.  

The Peacock 679

 "Here, he continues", says Francois:

"I began to think there was something amiss when I heard another voice, as well as Chris and Jim.  I can't quite make out what they are saying, then I hear Jim, loud and rather angry, not at all like him, saying, look, I said he is'nt here, now please shove off!

I was seated at the kitchen table, waiting as they both came in.  Father and son both, looking grim and worried, sat down with me.  Jim just said, "some man was just out there in the driveway, asking about you.  He was a little bit demanding so I had to tell him to shove off.  Unfortunately I had to lie, I said you don't live here, but I trust that God will see my heart and forgive me this minor sin.  Kenny, I am afraid you might be in some kind of danger.  What can we do to help?"

"Did you have a good look at him", I asked.

"He was tall, wearing dark clothing but kept his distance, and it was hard to make out his features otherwise.  Seemed like a well educated sort, I would guess."

I'm not afraid of him, I said.

"There is no need to be brave", said Jim.

"Brave shmave, this guy is only a nuisance  He's really a pussy."

"Should we call police"

"Nothing they can do...