Divine Intervention - 8. Unexpected Challenges

Summer 2019

“There are going to be some major challenges coming our way today.”

“How can you tell? Are you a priest or a clairvoyant? I should call you Marie Leveau except we aren’t in New Orleans. I know, you can be that Whoopie Goldberg character in ‘Ghost.’ If you start putting dead chickens on the door steps I am out of here; we will not practice Santeria. Just saying.”

Thomas smiled because he and Joe had this same conversation many times through the years. They almost had it scripted. It was Thomas who placed a Dammit Doll and a Voodoo Doll in the front window of their home when they moved it. When people would ask, Thomas would be forthright in claiming his belief in mysticism and the power of the supernatural.

They were seated at the breakfast table looking across their backyard toward the river.

“What do you see, Joey Joe?” Joe hated when Thomas called him that. It wasn’t mocking but it was said in a teasing voice.

“Well Tommy boy, I see ten million birds. To be clear, you are bankrupting us with the purchases of premium bird feed.”

They both laughed and leaned into each other for a kiss. Joe had been raised in the city and wasn’t used to seeing so many birds when he grew up. When they lived in the rectory, Thomas had put bird feeders and houses all around the church close. It had become a bird sanctuary in the middle of Philadelphia. Thomas kept a bird watching guide in the kitchen and they spent hours identifying all of the birds.

“See all of those cardinals. Each one of them is an angel in disguise. They are here to help or protect us. It will be revealed in time.”

Joe chuckled and said he loved Thomas even when he was his most mystical self. Joe knew that Thomas was connected to the universe in a way he never would be. Thomas had a sixth sense connection with the universe that went far beyond his vocation as a priest. Hell, he would probably have been burned at the stake during the Middle Ages for heresy. Whereas, Joe could make wood do remarkable things and could touch it and knew instinctively how to make art, Thomas would do the same to help people.

“Okay, Marie I need to get on with my work. What is your schedule today?”

“I actually have a free day. I know, I know. It is almost unheard of. Who told me that in retirement we would have days of lying in the hammock watching the world go by? I do have to write a sermon though.”

Joe laughed at Thomas who never viewed his priestly vocation as work. In some ways he should have been in a monastery because he lived his vocation 24 hours a day. There was never a time when he wasn’t taking care of people. Thomas as priest was his truly authentic self. Joe admired that and it was a major part of why he fell in love with the man. There was no pretense. He was totally who he presented to others. Joe worked hard though to provide balance in Thomas’ life so he would not burn out helping people.

Thomas was stacking the Spode breakfast dishes when there was a knock at the front door. Thomas smiled and looked at Joe.

“Put on your angel wings and go answer the door.”

Joe laughed and said he was more likely to wear horns.

“Go, and I will get these dishes washed.”

Joe walked down the hallway while smiling and thinking this had been his life since he met Thomas. He never knew who was on the other side of the door and which of life’s problems they brought with them. Perhaps Thomas was right, it did require the combination of the Dammit Doll, the Voodoo Doll and God to solve people’s problems.

He was surprised when he opened the door and found Mark standing there. It was Mark and it wasn’t Mark. The man on the front porch was weeping and hunched over. The handsome, collected Mark was nowhere to be seen. Joe grabbed Mark and pulled him into the foyer and then held him while Mark let loose with tears. Mark was a well-made man, but the person wrapped in Joe’s arms was like a child who needed comforting. When Mark pulled himself up and stopped crying, he just looked at Joe. Joe grabbed the Dammit and Voodoo Dolls and headed to the breakfast room with an arm thrown over Mark’s shoulder. Thomas looked up from the sink, saw Mark, walked over to hug him and then went to the liquor supply. Mark needed fortifying.

Thomas poured three fingers of Kentucky bourbon into a glass. He handed it to Mark.

“Knock it back. No sipping. One slug.”

Mark did as instructed.

They sat at the table and Mark shuddered. He squared his shoulders as he looked at the two men.

“I am sorry that I came without calling first. I had nowhere else to go.”

Joe looked at Thomas and waited for him to speak. He had learned over the years to follow his partner’s direction. Words were not always needed to communicate. He would know when his input was needed.

“I am glad that you considered this a safe place to come, Mark. Are you comfortable telling us what is going on? Would you like Joe to leave so it is just the two of us; or I can leave if you want to talk with Joe.”

Mark reached out and grabbed Joe’s arm.

“No, I need for both of you to be here.”

Mark then related how he went into work that morning and his father had essentially fired him. Big Mark had said that work had fallen off and he couldn’t afford Mark’s salary. Mark knew that to be a lie. Then to add further insult, Big Mark handed his son a legal document asking for the payoff of the mortgage on the house where Mark and the kids lived.

Thomas looked at the document and read the demand payment. He got a lump in his throat.

“At least, he gave me a severance package of two week’s pay.”

Joe cursed. That wasn’t a severance package. That was bullshit.

Joe stormed around the breakfast room. Mark sat quietly and said he didn’t know what he was going to do and where he and his children would live. Joe finally quieted and sat at the table. He looked at Thomas with pleading eyes to say something to make things better.

“Mark, I need to ponder this. Do you mind helping Joe at the Mill House today while I think through this? He needs someone to help him with some things.”

Joe gave him a puzzled look. He didn’t need any help.

Mark smiled and said it would probably be a good thing to work with his hands in a constructive manner so he didn’t go home and punch holes in the walls. He said he needed to calm and center himself before he picked up his children. Joe and Mark walked out the back door and the birds flew up around them. All Joe could see were the red wings of the Cardinals. He remembered that they were angels. They needed all of the help the angels could give.

Thomas stood at the sink brooding about how parents treated their children. He tried centering prayer which wasn’t working, he moved to the den and tried contemplative prayers and when that didn’t work, he tried consultative prayer. Prayer wasn’t working for him. He was still seething. He picked up his Dammit Doll and beat it against the counter top several times. That was the function of a Dammit Doll. It absorbed his fury and was still whole. He was devastated for his young friend. He realized that Mark was more than a friend, he had moved into the realm of family. People didn’t mess with Thomas’ family.

He was not completely centered as he started working on a sermon. Everything he wrote was filled with anger and rage. He kept at it and realized it was his outlet. He kept writing about injustice in the world. Seven times seventy. The return of the prodigal son. Turn the other cheek. Forgive your enemy. Love your neighbor. Love and trust God. Thomas kept writing and realized that this was more than a sermon. It was about forgiving and finding peace in ourselves. He had been pondering writing a book about caring for differently abled children and the injustices they often encountered in their lives. How many families had he worked with through the years where there was dysfunction and abuse? And that day another child, albeit, a grown man had come into their home after being abused by a parent. He knew that, in time, the answer would present itself.

He heard Joe’s voice in the kitchen.

“Are you fixing lunch or do we order in?”

The morning had flown by. Thomas jumped up from the computer and went into the kitchen. He reheated the tomato basil soup he had made and then built BLT sandwiches. There was always sun tea available.

Mark looked like the man he was. It was good that he and Joe had spent the morning together. They were a lot alike. Give them some wood and a job to do and they could focus on the work while processing. Joe was really good at listening; he didn’t need to talk. He was also good at formulating plans and steps to implement them. And the bottom line was he had a heart of gold. Joe was an angel. The three men good naturedly fought over the last of the peach pie. They were laughing when Joe looked at Thomas and said they needed to talk. Mark stood and said he would excuse himself.

“Sit down, Mark. You are part of this conversation.” Mark did as Joe directed.

“Mark and I had a good conversation this morning. He and his children are moving into the Mill House. Mark will help me finish the last of the work so we can get an occupancy permit. He wants to be settled before the kids start school for the fall semester. That makes sense to me. He needs a job which will be difficult here in Hillsborough. I am suggesting either Durham or Chapel Hill. Maybe even Burlington; there is a lot of new construction happening west of us. Given his family, it may need to be further away. Anyway, this is the initial plan and it will be fluid. Thomas, what do you think?”

Thomas smiled at his partner and said it sounded perfect. They supported each other in every way possible. If Joe had doubted Thomas’ agreement, they would have had a private conversation. Thomas said he would check at Duke and UNC to see what jobs were available.

Mark looked at Joe and told him it was time to get back to work.

“We need to finish my new home.” Mark smiled as he said that.

Thomas knew jocularity would be intermittent with Mark. This was life changing but Mark had been through major life events already: the death of a young wife, a child who was identifying a gender that was different than her birth sex and now the possible loss of his birth family. What a huge load to carry but he watched Joe and Mark walk to the mill and saw Mark’s broad shoulders. He would be okay whether he knew it or not. Joe and Thomas would support him and the children during this transition.

Just at that moment, the telephone rang. It was a long distance call from Sean who was in Belgrade.

“Papa, you wouldn’t believe some of the icons I have seen.”

“How are things in Yugoslavia?”

“Papa, you are so out of date. It is now Serbia.”

“Okay, how are things in Serbia? I am an old fogey and can’t keep up with all of nation building and changes in Eastern Europe.”

“I plan to be back in the U.S. by mid-September. I have lots of work to do but I plan to come stay with you and dad over Christmas and into February. Is he available by the way?”

“He is at the Mill House. Let me go out the back door and call him. Maybe he will hear me.”

Thomas stepped out the back door and pretended that he was calling the cows in from the field.

“I just called him.”

“Yep, my ear drums are broken from your yelling. I hope he heard you.” Sean was laughing which brought joy to Thomas.

“You didn’t answer my question about Christmas.”

“Of course, my son, why would you think you even had to ask.”

“Well, I am no longer a little 14 year old boy.” His statement was cut short by a coughing jag.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, papa. You are such a worrier but not as bad as dad.”

Joe and Mark came running into the kitchen. Joe looked stricken.

“What’s wrong, Thomas. Are you okay?”

Thomas handed over the phone.

“It is our son who needs to talk to you.”

Joe’s face lit in delight. Mark looked confused.

“You have children?”

“Child. A son, Sean. He is in Europe and is coming home soon.”

“How old is your son?”

“Let me figure this out. He came into our lives in 1988 when he was 14 years old. That means he was born in 1974.”

“Forty-five.”

“You are better with math than me. Yes, he is 45. He is an artist and lives in Philadelphia. He has been in Europe this summer studying Eastern Orthodox icons. He is a remarkable artist. Truly gifted, even though I am his papa and I must confess my prejudice.”

Joe took the phone and was sitting on the back stoop. He was animated in his responses to whatever was being said. Thomas then saw Joe get up and start walking circles in the backyard. That was never a good sign.

“If you don’t mind, how did he come into your lives?”

Thomas gave Mark an abbreviated version of the story of their shared lives.

Joe came crashing through the backdoor and walked up to Thomas and hugged him. He needed comforting. Mark sensed the need and said he would be in the Mill House until he went to pick up the kids.

Thomas held fast until Joe’s body shuddered and he backed away. There were tears running down Joe’s face.

“How about a glass of tea? We need to talk.”

When they sat at the breakfast table, they looked out the window and Thomas smiled.

“What do you see in the backyard?”

“Angels. Thousands of angels in red winged robes.”