The Husband Cult of Wilton Manors (Part 5)
On the third morning in our new Wilton Manors home, a massive pick-up truck with an extended cab hauling two trailers pulled up in front of our house. Hector's landscaping crew bounced out of the truck like a SWAT team on a mission. Quickly, they each had tools in their hands as they marched towards the back gate.
"Babe, go out the back, the gardeners are here. I'm still drying off from my shower," I called out to Bobby.
Bobby was bare chested but went out through the patio doors and started conversing with the landscapers. He shook hands with the tallest among them, a lanky red head and wearing a matching green ball cap and tight fitting tshirt. He jotted notes down on a clipboard and then he started pointing out things around the yard. The workers scattered in the direction of his pointing.
I watched from inside as the workers disappeared behind trees and bushes. Branches, coconuts, and palm fronds fell to the ground and were swooped up just as fast. Forty minutes later, we had a tidy, manicured backyard, and a full plan of care from Franky, the young boss. His team all waved to us as they left.
"How do you guys know Hector? He's really something, isn't he?" Franky said as he tore off a summary of the contract and handed it to us.
"We met him through our next-door neighbor. We had lunch at Peter Pan yesterday and Hector came back here afterwards and offered to take care of the landscaping as a welcome gift," I said.
"Cool. I know him and David from some parties they hold," Franky looked at me, then he looked at Bobby, his gaze lingered on Bobby's chest and nipples, then he looked back at me and smiled.
"Cool," I said not knowing what else to respond.
"Say, mind if I use the men's room for a quick leak?" he asked. Bobby nodded, "Sure" and pointed the way to the room at the end of the hallway.
"Thanks, dude," Franky winked at Bobby and then headed down the hallway to our main bathroom.
When he was out of earshot, Bobby whispered, "Does he mean the Sucker for Daddies parties?"
I shrugged as we heard a sudden torrential outpouring come from the area of the toilet. Franky hadn't shut the door and we were treated to a thunderous waterfall as his piss filled our toilet bowl. The loud symphony echoed down the hallway. It was endless.
Bobby couldn't contain himself and got the giggles. As the deluge eventually wound down and came to and end, Bobby and I made look like we were busy cleaning up. We could hear Franky flush the toilet, then wash his hands. At least his manners weren't totally lacking. He joined us back in the living room and picked up his clipboard.
"Man, I needed that!" he said with a wide grin.
"Franky, sounds like your plumbing is in good order," I said winking at him.
Franky looked confused for a brief second, then he gasped. "Oh man, I am so sorry. I had to piss like a racehorse and forgot to shut the door. So sorry,"
"Not a problem. A young man like you should have a healthy urine flow, and evidently, you do. How old are you?" Bobby asked.
"Twenty-eight...but, I feel more mature for my age and I get along really well with older guys" he looked at Bobby and then me for approval. His eyes lingered on Bobby's hairy chest again.
I squeezed Franky's shoulder. "Well, thanks, Franky for the all the work you and your team did. We'll see you in two weeks again?"
"You got it and we'll keep it to $35 a visit for the first year. New customer special. Any questions just call me, ok? Call me anytime. Please."
As he smiled and handed us his card, his youthful look was even more noticeable. He squeezed our hands and let them linger a bit as he did. He then turned let himself out the back patio.
"I think you have a fan," I said to Bobby as I took his hand to head out into the backyard.
"Me? I think he has the hots for you. Or maybe both of us. Young guy, though..."
As we surveyed our newly landscaped yard, the view of the sky around it had opened up and there was much less vegetation lingering on the ground and encroaching the fence. I noticed the tallest palm still offering shade over the rectangular pool that we still hadn't fully enjoyed. Bobby walked toward the corner of the yard to the fence adjacent to Doug and JP's yard. I saw him crouch down.
"Mike, come over here."
He was peering through a huge hole in the fence. The hole was taller than it was wide, oblong but vertical, and smooth around the edges. It was clearly manmade.
"What's on the other side?" I asked.
"I can't tell, it's some kind of shed, maybe" Bobby said squinting as he looked into the dark space. I took out my cell phone and turned on the flashlight setting. Shining through the hole in the fence into the shed on the other side, we could make out a chair, a bucket on the floor, a box of Kleenex, and graffiti on the walls. On the floor of the shed were square packets torn in half.
"Condom wrappers. How nice," I said.
"Holy shit. Is this a sex shed? What's it doing back here?"
"I don't know, but I want this hole boarded up right away. This is totally unsafe and any moron could be spying on us through the fence."
"What's the property on the other side? Let's go around and look" Bobby urged.
On our way out, we decided to check in with Doug next door. We told him about our discovery, but he was not as shocked as we were.
"Well, Phil, the guy who owned the house, kept to himself, but now again we could hear noises coming from there at nighttime, especially when the pub was open. On the other side of the fence is a pub that shut down about 6 months ago. It was just a corner beer joint for the local gays, nothing special, but there used to be action in the back. It was discreet and under the radar. It never bothered us."
"Do you think Phil created the gloryhole?" Bobby asked.
"Doug, we have to close up that hole. Who knows who could come back and think the gloryhole shed is open for action? I don't feel safe," I said, "I really don't feel safe with a gaping hole in our face that anyone could look through and see into our lives."
Doug walked us into his garage, a huge space, immaculately clean, with all manner of tools and machines hanging on the wall museum-like. Uniform metal cabinets lined the space. It was like a mini Home Depot or Lowes. An important difference though were the four ropes of heavy chains hanging from the ceiling holding up what appeared to be a well-used, and sturdy, sling. Doug walked past it like it didn't exist and headed to a stack of wooden boards propped against the wall. He grabbed a couple of pieces and then instructed Bobby to pick up a Black and Decker drill case below one of the counters. We followed him out and into our backyard. Within minutes, the backyard gloryhole was boarded up.
"I need to see what's on the other side," Bobby said.
We returned the tools to Doug's and then the three of us walked down the end of our long street and around to the other side. Doug led the way and delivered us to the closed pub that was our neighbor on the other side of the gloryhole.
"The White Rabbit?" I asked pointing to the sign.
"Yes, a fairly subtle name, wouldn't you say? Doesn't provoke any suspicion. Rumor had it, a lot of straight men would come through and get their rocks off. But I didn't know about the hole in your yard. I guess Phil knew about it though and benefited from it," he chuckled.
"Well, I'm glad it's closed, but why did the business shut down?" I asked.
"I think the owner died and there was nobody to take over." Doug walked towards a gate at the side. It opened at his touch. He motioned for us to follow. The yard at the back of the White Rabbit was small. It was partially covered by a large piece of canvas strung between the patio and the side of the fence. Tall grass and weeds were sprouting through the pavers. There were a few picnic tables, canisters for cigarette butts, some beer bottles on the ground. Bobby walked past one of the picnic tables and looked down. "Guys, listen to this `Got fucked on this table a lot. RIP White Rabbit."
Doug headed to the far corner where the shed was located. My heart pounded as I wondered what else might be inside.
Doug shook the door. It was locked. Two padlocks, at the top and bottom of the door, kept it shut.
"Well, that's a relief," I held the top huge padlock in my hand. The outward exterior of the shed gave no clue as to its purpose.
"It's strange," Doug said eyeing the side gate, " They haven't locked the gates to the yard. We should drop by City Hall and let them know. You have to register as new residents anyway. I'm assuming you haven't done that? Do you want to pass by there now and get some lunch while we're out?"
The folks at City Hall were sympathetic and responsive and thanked us for alerting them to the abandoned White Rabbit. They said they would lock the gates. We also got our welcome package from them which made me feel like we were officially citizens of our new adopted hometown.
Doug suggested we have lunch at a Greek restaurant directly across from City Hall. We love sitting at the bar when we go to places since you get to chat more with staff and other people, so we declined a table. We climbed up on the high bar stools and let our arms stretch out on the cement countertops. It was refreshing to feel the coolness under my arms. The handsome smiling barmen also made it more appealing to sit at the bar. Doug suggested a few different dishes that we would share without even looking at the menu.
Bobby and I ordered Greek beers and Doug ordered a cocktail made with Ouzo.
While we cooled off and waited for the food to arrive, Doug's phone rang.
"Hey, Hector! You'll never guess who is with me now. What? Oh, ok. Guys, Hector is asking if Franky and his boys did a good job,"
"Oh yes, yes. They did great job. Very professional," I said while sipping some beer.
"With his loud hose," Bobby added and we both laughed loudly.
When I stopped laughing, I said, "Please tell Hector, thank you for the welcome to Wilton Manors gift. It helped us uncover something that could have been a problem,"
Doug transmitted the message and added, "I'll tell you on Saturday. Got to go. Our gyros bites and calamari are coming!"
As the beautifully presented food was set before us, Doug put down his phone and asked "So, you met young Franky. What did you think?"
"He was very service oriented. But I think he has the hots for Bobby."
"Oh, shut up. He was eyeing you like his next Daddy meal," Bobby slapped my knee.
"Wouldn't surprise me," Doug said as he helped himself to some tzatziki and calamari. "His former fiancé was a very handsome older black man that he met at Hector's. They were supposed to get married next year, but the man, Tito, died of a sudden heart attack. I think he was only 60."
"Damn, that's harsh," Bobby said. We all took something from the plates before us in silence.
"Yes, yes I'm sure it was devastating for him. They were quite striking together. The tall red-haired kid with the older black muscle man. But they seemed to be really in love, always holding hands and affectionate. I only ever saw them together, except when Franky and his team come around to do our landscaping,"
"Oh, Franky is your landscaper too?" I said as I speared a chunk of feta.
"Yes, he is. He used to come to our place for the couple's barbecues with Tito. But since Tito died, we only see him every couple of weeks."
"Barbecues?" Bobby questioned.
"Yeah, last Sunday of every month, the group comes to our place. It's pot luck. Everyone brings something. Put it on your calendar as a standing invitation. I'll send you a Google invite. That way, no two couples bring the same dish."
"And is this a social event?" I asked.
"Sure. It's social...but it's totally nude, by the way. And it can get frisky as the afternoon goes on. Sometimes we have something to celebrate like a birthday or guys getting married or renewing their vows. Father Jerry takes care of the civil ceremonies" Doug said taking a sip of his drink.
"There's a gay priest who comes to your nudist couples' barbecues?" Bobby asked.
"Well, when you say it like THAT it sounds weird, ha! He is ordained by an online ministry. He used to be a Catholic priest. Now he has a hot young hubby who was also a seminarian, so they can perform alternative LGBTQ ceremonies and it's totally legal and binding." Doug speared a couple of hoops of calamari and devoured them. He moaned in appreciation.
I took a swig of beer and looked around. The ambience, the exotic music, and the beer were settling my nerves about the discovery of the `hole' and the sex shed on the other side of the fence. Man, to think that guys used to use that shed and have sex through our fence. We have to thank Hector and Franky. If we hadn't cleared out the excess vegetation, who knows what could have happened.
Bobby slid his hand along my thigh as he grabbed a bit of pita and eggplant dip. I squeezed his thigh and felt so grateful to have him by my side as my husband.
Just then, Doug's phone rang again.
"What's up, handsome?" he asked. A few seconds passed. "Oh my god. Don't worry, mi amor. I'll be there in 10 minutes. You stay put!"
"What happened?" Bobby asked. I noticed he put his hand on Doug's knee.
"Guys, we have to go. JP was in a car accident. He's at the hospital. I'll drop you off at home, but I need to leave now."
The barman had already left the bill in a shot-glass in front of us. Doug looked at it quickly then started dropping money on the counter.
We offered to drive directly to the hospital. This let Doug speak with JP on the way. What we saw when we arrived in the emergency room totally stunned me.