The Peacock 1525

I am the only one up this morning, and I am holding vigil at the kitchen table, mug full of hot strong coffee and plate with three slices of toast and a jar of peanut butter and a jar of strawberry jam. I might go to church. It's Sunday. St Jude's maybe, or maybe the united Church down the street, or st Anselm's Anglican across the way. I haven't been to a proper church service in a while. I seem to have slept enough. Before the episode with Jesús last night I had already had nearly six hours, since I'd gone to bed early, and then another hour and a half for catch up. All good. I might wake him up and invite him to church with me. I did promise to spend the day with him today, and yes, without thinking further, with toast and jam and peanut butter morphing into a disgusting mass inside my mouth, here I am at his door, knocking lightly...

The Peacock 1524

"I could never imagine sex with Juan. We were too close, even if he wasn't straight." "That says it all." "I think you're right." "Listen Jesús. Ever since I saw you the first day of my retreat I have liked you and wanted to know you better. Here is our opportunity. What do you think?" "You are right, Chris", he says yawning. "I am sorry I was a problem for you. It won't happen again." "How about tomorrow we spend time together. Just you and me." "I would like that, yes." "Me too. Now let's go to bed. Our own beds." We are both smiling.

The Peacock 1523

Anyway, I am very sorry that happened. He was killed by narcotraffickers, wasn't he?" "He was killed by devils and worshippers of devils", says Jesús grimly. "He learned about them. And he was writing about them. They killed him just before he finished writing the article. But now I have it. Juan was afraid this might happen so he asked me to keep a copy in my archives. The devils suspected this and started sending me threats, so I had to leave Colombia, but they caught up with me here." You were very close to Juan." "We were like brothers." "Would you say that you were so close, that even if sex was possible, it would never have needed to happen between you?"

The Peacock1522

Are you still in contact with anyone you have ever had sex with?" "No." "Some connection. How about your best friend in Colombia?" "He is completely straight. That would never have happened between us." "But you are connected to each other." "He is dead now. I told you about it in the big house." "Yes. I seem to remember now...

The Peacock 1521

It isn't sex you need." Jesús stares blankly at me from his side of the kitchen table. He still smells of alcohol but appears to have sobred up. What you're really looking for is connection. He is picking at the muffin on his plate. It is now 3 am and we have been at the table here the last five minutes. "What do I need?" "connection." That's how I get connection. Through sex." "Does it work very well." "Not always. Sometimes." "No. never."

The Peacock 1520

What I really need to do is pee. I don't suppose I would wake him if I come and go quietly. This must be the house with the most basic and utilitarian bathroom in the neighborhood, though I can't say that I have visited other bathrooms in the neighbourhood. Never had Dad been one to put up pictures or other decorations in here. The walls are white. The tile is white. The toilet, sink and bathtub are all white. As the toilet is flushing, and naughtily forgetting to wipe the toilet or wash my hands I slink back to my room and find that jesús has moved to the bed where under the covers he is faking sleep. I seat myself in the wicker chair. "We have two options", say I. "Either you will get up and return to your room. Or I will go sleep there." He doesn't seem about to budge. But now, as I am getting up and going towards the door, he is suddenly up and squeezing past me. I smell alcohol. "Jesús, is there something we are needing to talk about?"

The Peacock 1519

I just dreamed that I was in a footrace and that I was the only one running barefoot, but I was also the only one prepared to run through kneedeep water. Okay. It's 2:18 in the morning, and I suddenly realize I am not alone. I see in the dark a silhouette in the wicker chair. I reach for the table lamp and it is Jesús, sleeping with his head cocked to his right, snoring softly. I don't know what to do about this. He shouldn't be in here, but I don't want to wake him either. He appears to really have a thing for me, and I don't know what to do about it. I don't think he would be so bold as to climb into bed with me, and seriously, part of me wouldn't at all mind....