“That’s a relief,” Luis said. “I’d hate for him to think I’m trying to steal you away.” For all the flirting Luis did, he’d never once cheated on Jase. And if anyone had seen him flirt with Cory and they had doubted his intentions, he would have smiled and told them to go fuck themselves. He’d learned early he couldn’t win with people who had dirty minds and irrevocable mindsets.
“I’ll see you later,” Cory said, turning to leave.
When Cory was gone, Luis went back to his usual Saturday morning cleaning routine, without bothering to get dressed. He wasn’t expecting anyone and he figured he’d jump into the shower when he was finished cleaning and get dressed then.
After he’d cleaned the entire house and the last thing left to do was mop the kitchen floor, he decided to get a clean rag and wipe the floor clean on his hands and knees. Mops were good for general cleaning, but Luis had always believed the best way to really clean a floor was with his own two hands. And he hadn’t done this in the kitchen for a while. So he crossed over to the sink to fill the bucket with soapy water.
But as he turned the hot water faucet and the water came spilling out, a strange face appeared in the kitchen window over the sink. It happened so fast and without warning, Luis dropped the bucket and screamed for Cory. Then he ran into the laundry room and pulled his white bathrobe from the pile of clean, folded white towels.
By the time Luis put the bathrobe on and stepped out on the back patio to see what had happened to the man peeking into the window, Cory had the man’s arm in his hands and he was talking to him at the other end of the driveway. They were standing near the easement road and far enough away so Luis couldn’t hear anything. Cory’s expression looked stern and serious. The man he was talking to looked puzzled and alarmed.
Then they stopped talking and Cory walked the man back toward the house. Luis took a few steps back and folded his arms across his chest. As they approached, Luis saw the stranger’s thick silver hair. He was taller than Cory and much wider in frame. Balancing about thirty more pounds than he should have been, the extra weight mostly concentrated around his middle.
Cory remained a step behind the stranger and shrugged at Luis. “This guy says he’s the Reverend Thomas von Klingensmith and he’s here about the rental.” He lifted his hand and twirled his finger around his temple.
Before Luis had a chance to answer, Reverend von Klingensmith extended his arm and said, “I’m so sorry about the mix-up, young man. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was inquiring about the house for rent down at the end of the road.
The lovely old stone place with the fabulous winding brick path to the front door. I’m Reverend Thomas von
Klingensmith, and I just moved up north from Key West. I’m staying with cousins in New Jersey and looking for a place to rent in or near New Hope.” He pronounced Thomas as Thomas, with the accent on the last syllable instead of the first.
He spoke with such a light, singsong voice Luis knew he had to be gay.
Luis smiled at Thomas and shrugged at Cory. Thomas had to be in his mid-seventies, but he was still attractive, with all that thick silver hair. So Luis shook Thomas’s hand and said, “I’m Luis Fortune and I’m one of the owners. But I thought my husband, Jase, had listed the house with a Realtor.
I wasn’t under the impression we’d be dealing with prospective tenants ourselves.” Jase had mentioned to Luis he wanted to rent Angus Bernie’s old house out, but he hadn’t gone into detail, just that he’d listed it with a real estate agent in town.
“I’m afraid that’s my entire fault,” Thomas said. “I often become over excited and I move far too quickly. I read about the listing in the local paper, asked a few people where it was, and I decided to check it out myself to get the vibrations. You see, I’m an automatic writer and a psychic. I write spiritual books about new-age concepts and enlightened prospects that deal with diversity, love, respect, dignity, positivity, and captive consciousness. You may have heard of my works. I’ve been running my own congregation in Key West for years, a new-age church based on the principles of my first book, Captive Consciousness. And all my other published books are on the Internet now.”
Luis had never heard of him, and he’d never heard of Captive Consciousness. It sounded like a breakfast cereal. But he smiled and asked, “Are you looking for a place to escape the Florida heat for the summer? Because this rental is year round. It’s not seasonal.”
Thomas lifted his head and smiled. He clasped his palms together and said, “Oh, no. I’m moving up here for good. The congregation in Key West became too much for me, what with the radio show and the books, and all the special requests to perform gay marriages. It reached a point where I had no privacy at all. I’m back up here for good and I’m going into semi-retirement. I’ll keep writing about captive consciousness, but I want to be near my family in New Jersey.
The house down below is perfect. I want privacy and solitude so I can meditate.” He lifted both hands in the air and waved them in slow motion.
Cory blinked.
Luis smiled and said, “Why don’t you wait here a minute while I run upstairs and get dressed? My husband and son are out fishing today at the shad festival and I was cleaning and doing Saturday morning things. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I’ll be right back.”
Within ten minutes, Luis jogged down the back stairs in a pair of jeans, running shoes, and a black T-shirt. He found Thomas and Cory standing in the same spots where he’d left them. Thomas was still talking, telling Cory about his psychic gift of automatic writing, where spiritual guides took over his physical body and wrote words on pages he couldn’t seem to control no matter how hard he tried. When he told Cory his psychic ability was a gift from God and he’d had it since childhood, Cory offered him a blank glance and rubbed his chin in disbelief. Then Cory sent Luis an eye roll and frowned.
But Luis ignored Cory and smiled at Thomas. “Do you prefer to be called Reverend von Klingensmith?”
“I’m fine with Thomas,” the old man said, overemphasizing the second syllable in his name again. “I’m a very simple person.”
Cory rolled his eyes and looked down at his boots.
But there was something calm and soothing about Thomas that eased Luis’s nerves. When he spoke, the words rolled from his mouth with such a gentle flow Luis felt like plopping down in a chair and sighing. It was almost as if Thomas was at a pulpit giving a sermon, and Luis wasn’t at all religious. But Luis had always had a soft spot in his heart for older gay men, ever since his nonsexual escorting days in New York. Luis had learned so much about gay history firsthand from older gay men, and they were always so pleasant and gentle to be around. So Luis gestured toward the back door and said, “Won’t you come inside and sit down, Thomas? We can talk all about the house and the lease, then I’ll take you down and you can see what it’s like inside. I have a feeling you’re going to like the house. I think it’s going to suit you well.”