Rachael's Introduction

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“Thank YOU!” the text message read. There were a bunch of hearts and pointing finger emoji below it.

I laughed. I had never met the guy, but judging from the messages he sent, he seemed like a character.

A few hours later, I pulled up to a very large house about an hour out of town and rang the bell, thinking how out of place my beat up corolla looked out front. Everything was immaculate. The lawns were manicured, there were flower beds, and I even saw a man in a large straw hat working outside in the distance. I was definitely impressed.

“You must be Rachael.” was the first thing he said to me when he came to the door. “I’m Jay.” I shook his hand. It was warm and masculine. He obviously worked out, and had been blessed genetically with wavy dark hair and green eyes. He was wearing loose fitting clothes that reminded me of something a yogi or spiritual guru would wear.

“Thanks so much for letting me come by.” I said.

“No, no! We really appreciate your willingness to play.” His southern drawl was almost comical. “You’re the 5th person we asked.”

It struck me as odd. The pay for the gig was more than decent. Considering the going rate for a Sunday church service was about 150-200 dollars, he was paying 10 times that. It was kind of vague what the gig was, and my friend who recommended me hinted the job was out of the ordinary, but considering I would have to teach a lot of hours of piano lessons to get that kind of money, I was happy for the opportunity. Add that to the fact that it was summer and all my piano students were out of town, I could use the extra income.

He led me into the house, and I was taken aback by how spacious and well decorated it was. There were expensive looking paintings on the wall, and the couches and chairs looked extremely comfortable. Everything was light in shades of white and beige and the pictures on the walls seemed to depict the heavens. There were even candelabras painted white, and there was an airiness that I was convinced only money could create. It was a far cry from the bargain basements I shopped at as a professional musician.

“Wow, this is a really nice place.” I told him, feeling self conscious. I thought I was just coming in to pick up music for the gig. My hair was tied in a ponytail and I was wearing yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt.

“Thank ya!” he said. Once again, I wondered where that accent came from. We were in Virginia, but it was rare to hear someone speak like he did with an over the top accent. “Let me show you the piano.”

He took me though the house to a sunken music room, and I saw a 7 foot concert grand. I sat down feeling certain it was more of a show piece than anything and would be out of tune, but after playing a few notes I realized it sounded great. It had a stiffer action than my piano at home, but overall it was a good instrument.

“Do you play?” I asked, thinking somebody in the house must since the piano was in good working order.

“Naw.” he said. “I play a little guitar, but that’s about it.”

I wondered if he was some kind of country music star I had missed. He was certainly attractive enough to be. That accent had to be put on though. No way did anybody actually talk like that. He reminded me of a televangelist from the 80’s. The kind that got all worked up and demanded you put your hand on the screen to feel the holy spirit.

“So, what kind of music do you want for this…event?” I asked.

“Do you do chords or are you a note reader?”

I almost laughed. I was classically trained at a top conservatory. “I can do whatever” I said,.

“Well, let me tell you. The music is pretty easy. It’s not too hard at all and you can do whatever you want with it.” he said, and handed me a stack of sheet music. Love songs mostly.

“Ok?” I said with a question in my voice. The music looked straight forward. I’d have to play through it, but it seemed mostly sight-readable. Still, I was confused as to why 4 other people had said no to playing. I was glad they had though. Considering the pay, I’d expected him to hand me Rachmaninov concertos or difficult Chopin pieces. Not three chord melodies that any half competent piano player could handle. They didn’t need a seasoned performer to do it.

“Well, there is one other thing.” he said, and for the first time, he sounded subdued and I detected a note of desperation in his voice. Like he was afraid I was going to run out screaming. “Did Evelyn talk to you about it?” He asked, clearly hoping I’d say she had. “Well, It’s not a huge thing, but it might be a bit…different for you.”

“Well, she said something about it being an odd gig.” I said, “But it seems straightforward to me.” I said, totally confused..

He laughed shortly, “Odd. That’s a good way to describe it.” he said and hesitated.

I gave him a look urging him to explain.

“Now, keep in mind it will be fairly dark in here. It won’t be like in the daylight.”

“That’s no problem. As long as you don’t mind if I bring a music light, that should be ok.” I told him. “I can always improvise if I can’t read the music.”

He laughed nervously. “Oh that’s fine. Whatever you need to do.” he said. “We just want you to be aware though that, well…it will be a nude ceremony. We’re a group of nudists, and every quarter we get together to praise the earth and our bodies. That’s the part where you’ll be playing. For the ceremony, and the new inductees. Well, in this case, a new inductee. We’ll have a party after, and there is sex involved. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, but you’re welcome to join, or you can go on home after.”

I have no idea what my expression was at that moment, but my jaw must have hit the floor. Never in all my years had I been asked something like that. “Evelyn thought that because you were single you might be a little more open.”

I supposed Evelyn was right. Of all the piano teachers in town, I would be the most likely candidate. I was single and considered myself fairly open minded. I wasn’t sure about group sex though. I was more of a serial monogamist, and at 35, still hopeful some man would come riding up on a white horse and whisk me away.

“Ok, so what you’re telling me is you’re having a nude ceremony and there is an orgy after?” I asked, bluntly. I wasn’t normally the type of person to be so cut and dry, but I wanted to know for sure what I was getting into.

He nodded. “It’s a beautiful thing. It’s all natural. Everybody loving everybody else and the earth’s creation.” he said. “It’s being one with nature. It really is beautiful, and your playing would add so much.”

I could have walked out and said no like everyone else evidently did, but instead asked “Do I have to take my clothes off?” I didn’t think I had ever played the piano without clothing, and wasn’t sure how that would go.

“You don’t have to.” he said. “Wear what makes you comfortable. You’d be a guest, after all.”

Just then a beautiful woman walked in. She had long blonde hair, a perfectly straight smile and shining blue eyes. She was quite possibly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in real life. I supposed if I looked like her, I would want to be nude all the time too.

“So you’ll do it?” she asked. Jay stood to greet her, and I took it as my cue to stand up as well. I wondered how long she had been listening.

“I mean, I guess.” I mumbled. It had the potential to be very strange and awkward, but it was 1500K for a few hours of playing easy music. It would certainly help pay the bills, and summer was here.

“Oh yay!” she said, jumping up and down. I could clearly see her breasts jiggling up and down in her equally loose fitting tunic. She then came up to me and gave me a full bodied hug, and I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. She then gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Connie, this is my wife June.” Jay said, and she pulled back.

“I’m sorry.” She said, “I’m just so excited you’ll do it.” Jay wanted to play recordings, but a real piano adds so much.” she said. “Plus, you are really beautiful.” she said smiling, which confused me. I was kind of plain looking with brown hair, average athletic build and no makeup. I felt sure she had graced magazine covers.

“Ok, well, I’ll see you Saturday.” I mumbled, but wasn’t exactly sure I knew what to think.

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For the next few days, I looked over the music. I listened to recordings of the pieces I wasn’t familiar with and prepped for the gig like I would any other. I ironed out any difficult parts and made sure I could play through everything in a way that seemed effortless and flowing.

I realized that I had a problem when it came to figuring out what to wear though. If everyone is going to be nude, what do you wear? Especially if you planned to stay clothed?

I eventually settled on a tunic, sort of like what I had seen Jay and June wear when I first met them. I ordered it online. It was white, which set off my tanned skin and dark hair. I thought it looked appropriate-ish, and I could blend into the background behind the piano and not be noticed, I thought.

When I pulled up to the palatial house, it looked as though a lot of people were there. Cars lined the streets so much that I had trouble finding a place to park. Expensive looking machines that I didn’t even know the names of and again I felt completely out of place. I wondered where all these people came from. Were they people in town? Would I see people I knew? Had they flown in from Hollywood or other countries? I had so many questions.

I was strangely nervous. Was I late? I had arrived a half hour before Jay told me to be there. I always tried to be early to these things, wanting to feel out the piano and feel comfortable in my surroundings, but it looked like things had already gotten started. Had I blanked on the time? I looked at my phone and scrolled to the texts Jay had sent me. He clearly said “Be at the house at 6:00!!!!” with more hearts, hands giving thanks and fingers pointing at me. If there was a mistake made, it was his.