A hauntingly surreal tarot-inspired cinematic keyframe depicts Jesus standing in a lavish marble foyer with arches, surrounded by opulent furnishings and sumptuous fabrics, set against a vibrant, starry cosmos backdrop that evokes a sense of mysticism and wonder. His skin has a warm, golden undertone, radiant with an inner glow, accompanied by shaggy hair, his face is giving an expression of awe. He's wearing a white t-shirt and tan carpenter's pants stained from labor. The scene is captured with high-resolution clarity, blending bold, expressive brushstrokes and intricate details that seem to pulse with an ethereal energy. A fusion of deep blues and purples dominates the color palette, punctuated by bursts of neon pink and green, reminiscent of the nostalgic warmth. The image is framed with a shallow depth of field, emphasizing the central figure, surrounded by a subtle bokeh blur that adds depth and dimension, and a hint of vignette that draws the viewer's eye inward, paying homage to the styles of Maciej Kuciara, Jama Jurabaev, and Wojtek Fus.

Chapter 4: The Estate

Book of Joshua Present Day♁

Hork Estate, Colorado Springs, CO, USA

The morning sun triumphed when Harrison met Josh at Dr. Hork’s gate, rays warming lingering chill as birds swirled and sang. Cloudless skies stretched endless across eastern plains, a mortal eye the only limit to the horizon.

“What is this place—Neverland?” Josh quipped, his gaze lifting toward Pikes Peak’s remaining crown.

“No shit,” Harrison laughed. “You can see clear to Kansas…”

“How’d you land these folks?”

“Tigers game a few weeks back. His wife’s smoking hot.” Evocative eyes widened.

“I bet.” Josh lingered on the gate’s ornate ironwork. “This thing costs more than I’ve earned my whole life…”

“Joshifer, that tree’s worth more than you’ve made your whole life.” Harrison grinned.

“Guess I need a raise.” The quick jab silenced the mockery. “One day you won’t be able to afford me, Wilde.”

“Let me know, brother. Got a herd of Mexicans who’d work for thirds.”

“Yeah—but then you’d have no friends.”

“What are you talking about? Javier was over to my place last week—he even brought beers.”

“He there for a check?” Josh smiled, knowing truth. “We all love Javier, but the dude’d bolt for a nickel more an hour.”

“You saying I pay for company?” Harrison stroked the thick hairs on his chin.

“Like any good lay you ever had!”

Harrison shoulder-checked Josh as he moved toward the callbox. “Love these mountaintop mornings with you, but I don’t want to be here tomorrow too.”

Josh waited, staring for him to make the prompt. Harrison blanked.

“Well?” Josh motioned with an open hand. “We doing this?”

“Allow me…” Condescension oozed as Harrison finally pressed the buzzer. “Figured you’d want the honors.”

“Try not to look so ugly,” Josh pointed to the camera.

“Shut up—“ A slap caught the finger mid-air. “They’ll see you.”

After a few rings a woman’s voice greeted. “Harrison?”

“Yes, ma’am—with Josh.”

“Great—opening the gate.”

The iron parted and the trucks followed, swirling birds barely noticing the engines.

Switchbacks leveled into a vast circular courtyard, pillared mansion looming on the other side. Pavement transformed to flagstones with mammoth rocks cradling lush landscaping at its edge. Rounding the center held twelve towering statues—at least three times the height of Josh—each holding their gaze inward.

The tallest pair presided at the head: a regal bearded king on the left, majestic queen to the right, each with flowing togas draping with ancient grace. All twelve statues converged on the central pool, the fountain jetting skyward, their blooming foot paths linking the monuments to water’s heart.

Josh pulled near the entrance, awe fixed upon intricate features—hardly noting the white-pillared temple before him. Colorado Springs hiding such splendor felt impossible. Serenity and enchantment spilled over him—his imagination unable to explain away the divine indulgence. No corporate cynicism fit. The landmark too sophisticated for sellout tales of a patent engineer cashing in on a vacuum design, or a tech mogul developing a new way to rot the brain. The estate possessed vision; a quality lacking in the parade of McMansions dotting the mountainside below.

Josh was left to simply absorb the majesty; like a slack jawed shepherd boy first entering Rome’s glow. His head swiveling window to window, finally resting on shaded aspens where deer bedded calm. “Really?” He snarked to the windshield. “Just chilling?”

The two men hopped down from their trucks and met at the steps.

“Told you—pretty cool, huh?” Harrison said.

“Where… are we?”

The door from the estate swung open; a gorgeous woman welcoming from inside.

“Harrison! Glad you made it.” She motioned for them to meet her.

“Try not being you,” Josh whispered. “They’ll know you don’t belong.”

“Fake it ’til you make it, baby.” Harrison muttered back. “Hello, Mrs. Hork—how’s your morning?”

“Fine, Harrison—and yours?”

“Any better, I’d be Joshy here.” His laugh eased them up steps. “Mrs. Hork, meet Josh Bach—he’ll handle the repairs. Josh, Pom Hork.”

“Pleasure, Mr. Bach.” Pom gave a welcoming smile.

“Likewise—quite the home.” He had uttered those words countless times, though this was the first with conviction. “Call me Josh.”

“Glad you think so… Flowers are in bloom, miraculous those pesky satyrs have stayed out of them.” She nodded to the deer.

“Satyrs?” Harrison’s brow lifted.

Josh rolled eyes with a subtle nod—he caught the joke.

“My poor attempt at humor. They are enchanting, though…” Her gaze lingered, then turned. “Come, boys—tour.”

“Satyr?” Harrison mouthed toward Josh.

“Later.”

“Told you—hot!” He kept his grin quiet.

Josh’s eyes rolled once more.

Approaching the door, they bent for boots. Pom turned. “Nonsense—that’s what brooms are for. Come in!”

The two men exchanged a cringe—then ignored the command with laces coming undone.

“Such manners!” Her compliment warm.

“We don’t hear that often,” Harrison chuckled.

“Mrs. Hork—your courtyard statues? Who are they?” Josh asked.

“William had them commissioned—he’s quite fond of them. Likes to immortalize those who are dear.”

“I see. At the head of the fountain, the woman—she’s beautiful.” Josh had made the connection but kept coy. “Such elegance…”

Harrison’s eyes widened.

“A favorite of mine as well…” A curious smile crept across Pom’s lips.

“Well, I can see why—poise, grace… Michelangelo couldn’t have done it better himself.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely—the way she embodies… femininity. The perfect balance to her counterpart.”

“Well, a carpenter and a scholar…” Her intrigue now led them inside. “Hope your craftsmanship matches your keen eye.”

Harrison’s glare pleaded with Josh for silence.

“Aw shucks…” Josh ignored Harrison with a grin and charged forward. “What’s she holding in her hand?”

Pom’s stride came to a halt; she turned, studying the bold young man she had just let into her home. He appeared late teens or early twenties but with a swagger that placed him a lifetime older. His build was athletic and still stood six feet without boots. A snug white tee clung to a toned frame; tan pants hung loose, stained from labor.

Her eyes made their way to a smooth sun-kissed face, unbeaten by worry with pristine angles yielding a pearly smile. Almond hair overdue for a cut parted for familiar hazelnut eyes.

Pleased with her discovery, she joined the trifle. “A pomegranate, of course.” Her eyes locked with his, feeding him a coy smirk.

Caught in his game, Josh’s cheeks turned pink. His words stammered then dropped.

He was left speechless by Pom’s beauty, and her confidence soared—a vain reassurance against William’s wandering eye and the insecurities of fading fashion week bookings. She held no intent, simply reveled in the young man’s attention.

“This way.” She gave no chance for a reply and continued to lead them through the home. “Dr. Hork’s busy today—his discovery fascinating, no?” She used the small talk to remind the men of her marriage to power, a nudge toward wisdom in their advances.

Josh needed no reminder, his focus returning to the castle-sturdy blend of classical Mediterranean and sharp contemporary architecture. Marble flowed from pillars to arches, high ceilings echoed sacred cathedrals amid floating stairs that climbed toward heaven or maybe the second floor, he felt unsure at this point. Modern lights and vibrant décor all gave the home warmth and class, a concoction that surpassed even most exclusive pop star homes in the Hollywood Hills he had stumbled into.

“Did you do the decorating?”

“Mostly—had some help from my sister, but I’ll take the credit.”

“I love it.” Josh carried the conversation. Harrison’s head bobbled along, his eyes appreciating her backside more than the interior design.

“Do you approve, Harrison?” She sensed his gaze.

“Hmm? Yes… Belongs in Greece…”

“I suppose the mountaintop helps.” She laughed. “We take a bit of pride in the home—and expect top quality workmanship…”

Panic swept Josh—he forgot he was there to do actual work on the estate, along with the notion that his skills that needed to match the excellence that surrounded him.

“Here we are.” Pom opened french doors that revealed an outdoor living area. “The stairs down to the lawn—a few treads need to be replaced, and the rail fixed. William almost had a fall a few weeks back and just hasn’t had the time to do it himself.”

Josh approached the staircase, surveying the odd choice of construction. “Why wood?” He asked. “I expected more marble, stone, iron… seems out of place with the rest of the home.”

Harrison’s eyes shot daggers—Josh’s comment threatening his ticket in the door.

“I said the same. William insisted—something about ground stability. The science types always overthink… So, it remains wood.”

“We do landscaping too,” Harrison never missed a chance to upsell. “A few retaining walls—we can solidify that slope.”

“Once the stairs are done, Josh—we’ll need to paint the whole thing too.”

“No rush,” Harrison finished the pitch to himself.

Pom acknowledged with a polite smile, then focus back on the young carpenter. “I assume this will keep you busy until lunch? Questions?”

“No ma’am,” Harrison spoke for both. “We’ll get started right away.”

Josh smirked and nodded, reassuring that he understood her instructions.

“Excellent. I’ll Leave you to it. Shout for me inside if you need anything.” She turned for the door, then paused. “Oh—Josh? Call me Pom.” Her smile lingered, then disappeared as she closed the doors.

With Pom gone from earshot, a low bicker sparked between the men.

“Smooth, Harrison. What are you, a used car salesman?” Josh cut.

“At least I kept it professional—Mr. Michelangelo!”

“We’ll fix you up a retaining wall right proper good.” Josh mocked in a bumpkin voice.

“The way the statue embodies… femininity. What was that? She’s married, dude.”

“Psh—you eye-banged her through the whole house—don’t think she didn’t notice!”

“Oh, and you weren’t? I told you she was hot…”

“Doesn’t mean you can stare—hairy little man!”

“Chicks dig the goat.” Harrison stroked his chin. “So, you got this?”

“Of course.” Josh slump against the railing, knowing Harrison would be leaving before the tool bags even came out.

“Good—I’ve got an appointment in the Black Forest. Be back later if you need me.”

“Yup…” Josh saluted sarcastically. “I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

“Don’t fuck this up, Bach.”

“Good thing you’re leaving then. She likes me—‘Oh Josh, call me Pom…’”

“Yeah—what was that?”

“I flirted with her mind—you flirted with her tits.”

“What’s the difference?” Harrison twisted his face. “I’ll leave the materials by your truck. Call me when you’re done.” He turned back toward the house.

“You got it, boss man.”