A Peacock in Paraguay
The distinctive call of a peacock split the early evening quiet. Years ago, an employee, a junior assistant, or so the story goes, rescued the animal and brought it back to the embassy. It was rumored that the bird once belonged to a drug dealer. Other versions of the story claim the bird was a part of an exotic bird smuggling ring. The bird's origins are unclear now. Facts have become rumors; rumors passed into myth; myth became fact. Ambassadors have come and ambassadors have left but the bird remains, haunting the embassy's grounds.
She was hiding in the courtyard. Tucked into the corner of a bench, in the shadow of the embassy, she tried to breath shallowly in order avoid inciting the wrath of her ribs. The doctors had just given them medical clearance and their flight was booked. She had no bags, no personal effects other than a few hastily bought pieces of clothing purchased by an embassy employee on her behalf.
If her ribs weren't broken, she would almost be able to fly away from Paraguay and pretend the whole ugly incident never happened. She sighed shallowly and readjusted her position on the bench to accommodate her ribs. She was fantastic at pretending things never happened. She lost people and places in her memories so often that her mind was a graveyard of people she once knew, places she had been. It was almost a wonder there was anyone left in her life. Like mother, like daughter.
She propped her chin on a fist and frowned. As far as she was concerned, this whole year had been a disaster. Nothing had gone right. Not for her, not for Harm.
Harm. The circle comes round again, she thought. It always came back to Harm. She had no right to feel jealous. Even less of a right to feel betrayed by him. And yet, here she was, in the middle of the courtyard, hiding from the one person she could never, would never, lose. She did, as he pointed out, run off to play Webb's pregnant wife. And she kissed Webb good-bye. And meant it too.
This, she supposed, is where she should arrive at the conclusion that they were never meant to be more than friends. The signs were all there. He dated other women. She nearly married other men. They'd kissed exactly three times in almost seven years. She was a third of the way to that total with Webb. They'd both jumped into fake marriages with CIA agents. Maybe this is where their story would end. In an embassy in Asuncion, Paraguay. But she didn't want to be just friends. The problem was, she didn't know if they could ever be anything else. There was just too much between them - too much time, too many emotions, and too many misunderstandings.
She sighed for a third time. She would love to be able to breathe freely again. She would love to be able to just feel free. To be with someone with whom she wasn't forced to examine his actions looking for subtext. But it was getting late. Late in the day, late in her life. She shifted slightly. She should probably go in soon. Soon, it would be time to leave. But she had a few minutes left and she was going to use every last second of them.
The air was soft and the harsh yellow lighting was fading into a tropical sunset. Tonight, the sky will be a clear blue, a shade that makes people breath deeply, trying to drink the color in. The plants in the courtyard will cast exotic, bizarre shadows. And then the shadows will fade, shrinking and blending into the darkness. And from somewhere in the courtyard, the peacock will sound out his call. For, although the embassy employee had rescued him, no one had thought to buy him a mate. With no peahen, and far from his native home, the peacock was forced to wander through the courtyard alone. Sometimes, the peacock wondered if he had really been rescued at all.
The distinctive call of a peacock split the early evening quiet. Years ago, an employee, a junior assistant, or so the story goes, rescued the animal and brought it back to the embassy. It was rumored that the bird once belonged to a drug dealer. Other versions of the story claim the bird was a part of an exotic bird smuggling ring. The bird's origins are unclear now. Facts have become rumors; rumors passed into myth; myth became fact. Ambassadors have come and ambassadors have left but the bird remains, haunting the embassy's grounds.
She was hiding in the courtyard. Tucked into the corner of a bench, in the shadow of the embassy, she tried to breath shallowly in order avoid inciting the wrath of her ribs. The doctors had just given them medical clearance and their flight was booked. She had no bags, no personal effects other than a few hastily bought pieces of clothing purchased by an embassy employee on her behalf.
If her ribs weren't broken, she would almost be able to fly away from Paraguay and pretend the whole ugly incident never happened. She sighed shallowly and readjusted her position on the bench to accommodate her ribs. She was fantastic at pretending things never happened. She lost people and places in her memories so often that her mind was a graveyard of people she once knew, places she had been. It was almost a wonder there was anyone left in her life. Like mother, like daughter.
She propped her chin on a fist and frowned. As far as she was concerned, this whole year had been a disaster. Nothing had gone right. Not for her, not for Harm.
Harm. The circle comes round again, she thought. It always came back to Harm. She had no right to feel jealous. Even less of a right to feel betrayed by him. And yet, here she was, in the middle of the courtyard, hiding from the one person she could never, would never, lose. She did, as he pointed out, run off to play Webb's pregnant wife. And she kissed Webb good-bye. And meant it too.
This, she supposed, is where she should arrive at the conclusion that they were never meant to be more than friends. The signs were all there. He dated other women. She nearly married other men. They'd kissed exactly three times in almost seven years. She was a third of the way to that total with Webb. They'd both jumped into fake marriages with CIA agents. Maybe this is where their story would end. In an embassy in Asuncion, Paraguay. But she didn't want to be just friends. The problem was, she didn't know if they could ever be anything else. There was just too much between them - too much time, too many emotions, and too many misunderstandings.
She sighed for a third time. She would love to be able to breathe freely again. She would love to be able to just feel free. To be with someone with whom she wasn't forced to examine his actions looking for subtext. But it was getting late. Late in the day, late in her life. She shifted slightly. She should probably go in soon. Soon, it would be time to leave. But she had a few minutes left and she was going to use every last second of them.
The air was soft and the harsh yellow lighting was fading into a tropical sunset. Tonight, the sky will be a clear blue, a shade that makes people breath deeply, trying to drink the color in. The plants in the courtyard will cast exotic, bizarre shadows. And then the shadows will fade, shrinking and blending into the darkness. And from somewhere in the courtyard, the peacock will sound out his call. For, although the embassy employee had rescued him, no one had thought to buy him a mate. With no peahen, and far from his native home, the peacock was forced to wander through the courtyard alone. Sometimes, the peacock wondered if he had really been rescued at all.
