The Peacock Key

The Inventory of Truth

​Jack couldn't stop looking at her as she spoke. He saw a beauty he hadn't noticed before.

The wild freedom of her wavy red hair, the way her eyes seemed to shift from green to ice blue with her words. Her freckles looked like constellations on her face, reminding him of her claim in court that she came from the stars.

He had laughed then, along with his friends. He had spent hours mocking her absurdity, even making money betting against her. But now, sitting beside her, driving to a place where she promised him rest and nourishment, he believed every word.

He knew, somehow, that she had been telling the truth all along—a truth that gave him a flicker of hope he hadn't felt since his early twenties, before the war began and the elites remade the world.

​"Jack... are you okay?" Love's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Am I bothering you? I tend to talk too much. Most people get annoyed and don't believe my stories. I am sorry if I've offended you."

​"What? No! You haven't offended me, Ms. Love. You've inspired me, actually."

​"Me? Inspired you? Are you being sarcastic? I get that wrong so much."

​"Not at all. You are amazing," Jack said, mesmerized.

He suddenly couldn't imagine his life without her. His mind unwillingly drifted to an image of her standing in the doorway of his old farmhouse, a long white dress blowing in the wind.

​He shook his head, embarrassed by such childish dreams.

He was homeless, an addict, a loser. He once had it all—money, a career as a trusted mechanic, a family. He had a life. He had love. But he lost it, and he knew it was his own fault. Prideful and stubborn, he had treated people who loved him like disposable objects.

He was angry at himself and had resolved to live a life of penance, serving others without expectation. He was a criminal. He was nothing. And this was his punishment.

​But she was here. And he couldn't stop his heart from wanting to know hers, couldn't stop his mind from planning a future he refused to pursue. He knew he had to run away so she wouldn't be hurt by him, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.

​"Amazing? There's that sarcasm again," Love said, a cynical edge to her voice.

"Oh, well. At least you're cute and not a total asshole. I'll take your sarcasm and enjoy it as if your words meant what they said."

The jaded wolves of this world had finally sunk their teeth into her. She thought of the day she first felt heartbreak. Using her skills, she had stitched up the holes and fashioned a layer of armor to keep herself insulated. It was nothing like the thick, shiny armor she once carried, but it was enough to keep from risking imminent death. It looked like a tangled mess, but it did the job of protecting what little love she had left.

​"Why do you keep saying that?" Jack asked softly. "I'm telling you the truth. Don't you know that you are amazing? How could you believe anything else?"

​"Oh—well, yes, I know that I am amazing. I know that inside myself. I love who I am because I know who I am at my very core. I see others as amazing, too. I see so many beautiful people, and I try to tell them what I see. Most don't believe me; they think I'm naive or stupid. But I share their truths with them because it's the inventory I want to use to fashion a new tool to help them overcome their struggles. It's my love. I don't wait to be asked, because if someone else can see a monster at my back trying to kill me, I would hope they'd help me before I had to ask. The reason I don't believe you," she sighed, "is because while I've been on trial, every time I try to do my job, I'm made into a laughingstock. My beauty is seen as something to be mocked. It's hard to believe anyone here would be truthful with words they've so often used as weapons."

​Jack just sat there, his mouth slightly open. Too ashamed to look at her, he felt a tear well up and a familiar lump form in his throat. He was grieving her pain, pain he was partially responsible for. Why did it matter to him so much?

​He let the tears fall without a fight, too tired and hungry to resist this level of truth.

​"Jack?! Are you crying?" Love asked, her voice filled with concern. "What is it? What can I do?"

​"I am so sorry for the way you've been treated, Love," he choked out. "You deserve more than anyone here could ever imagine. No one knew. I didn't know until I met you. Now I see you, and I am ashamed. Not because you would think differently of me if you knew the things I've done, but because I realize now that you wouldn't think any differently. You would be the same, no matter what. That is something I have never experienced."

​"What do you mean, Jack?"

​"I mean that you deserve a life filled with love. Surrounded by people who believe in you, who trust you. You deserve real friendship, and you deserve to be cherished. You deserve a partner who protects you and comes home ready to sink into the place where his heart is held. For your children to grow up in your love and be taught the truth of what a mother is. To have meals around a table with a village of folks who are there because you chose them and they chose you. But you can't have what doesn't exist anymore. And that is what I mean."

​Jack's words echoed in her mind as she stared out the window, watching children huddled over their devices in a moss-covered playground.

It was a dreary place.

She finally spoke. "Jack, I don't know if I'm meant to change this world. It seems like a monumental task for one small girl. We found that well, we got the key, we found the door, and we called into the void. Then, we were sucked into a tornado of darkness before arriving here. By the time we found the door, we were no longer children, but adults.

​Once we arrived, we thought it was home. It looks just like the place I'm from, but it's not the same. My friends were made to forget the journey here, but I wouldn't take the medicine they forced on me. One by one, they took the people I love and turned them against me, but I continued to love them anyway. They took my love and made it into a mockery to bury me in shame. But even as they threw dirt on my grave, I would only offer love in its truest form. I would not beg, I would not change my words, and I would not accept the name they gave me.

​And today, I watched as the vision I've been teaching came true. Now here we are. You and me. My words are the medicine for this world's infection. The question is, will anyone here be willing to hear them?"

​Jack was confused. It was as if his heart knew her in a way his mind could not accept.

​"Take a right here," Love said, pointing. "Our place is the little green house on the corner. You can pull in the driveway; the car parked there doesn't run."

​They walked to the front door with such synchronized haste that they bumped into each other trying to fit through the frame at the same time, sharing a small laugh.

​"Ladies first," Jack said, stepping aside.

​Just as she crossed the threshold, a horrible screeching sound filled the air. Alarms. A shimmering mesh, like the one from her story, began to form a forcefield around the home.

​"The basement!" Love screamed from inside. "Jack, run! There's a door, go inside NOW!"

​Jack rolled on the ground, scrambling into the muddy cellar just as the protective field sealed the entrance.

​"Love?" he called into the darkness.

​A muffled sound came from the ceiling.

"Jack! Just wait there! We'll have to find a way to cut a hole in the floor so you can come up. You're safe, that's what matters, but there's no access to the house from the basement. Just hold tight!"

​Jack wondered what had just happened, but he couldn't muster the strength to yell back. He lay down on the cold, damp earth and let sleep take him.