1 1 7 R A T A I L F U L L O F S U N S A U S T I N S E G R E S T And whatsoever my eyes desired I kept not from them – Ecclesiastes 2:10 When my peacocks arrived the post o≈ce called at four a.m. – eight babies only two days old with a three-day window to live o√ their yolks. I taught them to eat and drink. I built them a warm house, fenced it in. Little brown sprigs, they trailed me around the yard. After a week, they were tilting their tails, trying to fan out. Their necks turned black, then blue in the sun. A sapphire pan shone between their shoulders. Night and day they had an audience: glowing sets of cats’ eyes, a pit bull on top of the cage, a possum hung in the netting. Their feathers grew longer and more intricate – in the shade like giant dusters, but in the sun spanning indigo to gold. I could have gone to the cage a hundred times over. In my day I had a harem – if that’s the word – a pride of teenage boys hanging around my place. I was no saint, but they were free to do as they pleased. They needed somewhere to be. I o√ered food, cigarettes, tea and yes, even sex. Some wanted a man, some a woman. I could do both. One just wanted to take o√ his clothes and try on mine. Don’t get me wrong. There was nothing I wanted more than to give 1 1 8 Y myself completely to someone closer to my age, but it wasn’t to be. I was thirty, then forty. Mother asks when I’m going to grow up and I say that’s the worst thing anyone’s ever said to me. Dad got his colon nicked and bled out by week’s end. He’d said, ‘‘Steve, your brothers all have businesses and houses. We want you to have something.’’ I was alone then, my friends all gone, holed up in my apartment doing coke. I never thought I’d like it out here. I’d been in the city so long. I managed to assemble a shed kit, attached it to the garage next to the cage so I could have a place to smoke and watch my movies or my birds, whichever I please. The couch pulls out but I don’t sleep much now. Mother sits with me in the morning when a wind comes down the valley and the birds catch the sun and flare that kaleidoscope of colors I swear’s better than any drug. The peacocks pretty much have run of the place. You’re as likely to find one in the bed of my truck as in the cage. Our gardens are full of peacock plaques and statues, and inside the house, the turkey pheasant is the main décor motif. 2. My illustrated bible showed Solomon entranced by birds, the bristles of their blue crowns bobbing as they preened. Those colors burned into my retinas like those years watching volts fuse at an electronics factory in Arab, Alabama. Once, after second shift I went to a party at this house surrounded by pasture, the pasture by woods. I woke up on the couch, everyone asleep, the TV static. 1 1 9 R Through the curtain blue lights were flashing. I was hitting people, screaming the cops are here wake up dammit! But no one would. Across the road, hundreds of purple and blue and yellow-green bolts were leaping out of this field up to maybe fifty feet in the air. The sky was totally clear, the stars piercing, and this cluster of bolts seemed to walk – or stalk on legs of lightning toward the house. There was no thunder, no sound. Whatever it was, it just walked o√ – like my green hen, who, first chance it got, struck out for the woods and never looked back. 3. In one of my first memories I’m with my brother in our crib. A creature’s standing...
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