I realized that Rama had taught me to think this way. I also realized that I could, in time, unlearn these associations. I told myself I was doing okay. I was doing well at my job. I was saving money and paying off loans. I was commuting to work each day by bicycle. I was slowly getting stronger. One day I had a conversation with the vice president of my company. I respected him. He seemed to be creative, bright, and energetic. He told me that he read a great deal. "I try to learn many different philosophies," he said. "A philosophy that discourages you from learning other philosophies is a good one to avoid." I liked his approach to knowledge. I was impressed that such wisdom was available in an office building in downtown Boston. I was impressed that in his own way, my boss was a seeker. Another weekend a childhood friend invited me to a beach party in New York. There I met Christina, a young woman with long legs and deep blue eyes. I started driving to New York often. One evening, the phone rang. I had been expecting a call from Christina. "Hi, Agni," said a woman's voice. It was Dana. "I should have changed my number," I thought. "There's going to be a meeting at Rama's for the Stony Brook group," she said. "Can you make it?" "I'm doing okay on my own," I reminded myself. "I don't need to see Rama." "Rama said it's going to be our last meeting together," she added. I nearly laughed. He had been holding "last meetings" for years. I wondered if he were trying to suck me back into his organization. I thought about the disciples and about my brother. I had not seen them in weeks. "I'll be there," I told her. Late the following night I rode my three-speed toward Needham. Rama typically conducted business between two and four a.m. because "the world's psychic energy was calm" and, perhaps, because disciples at that time tended to be tired and off balance. Yet as I pedaled through the dark and empty streets, blood pulsed quickly through my veins. I felt alert. I wore all black. Black for me was a symbol of power. I wore around my neck a string with a bicycle lock key. I had worn such a string during bike trips of my youth, before locking on to Rama's path. The key was a reminder that waiting just outside Rama's door was the trusted three-speed. I entered the house. The disciples seemed friendly toward me. Rama approached. He said, "You look much better, Agni." I offered him a classical music tape. This was my way of saying that I harbored no ill feelings. He accepted. It was well past midnight and the twelve had arrived. Actually there were only ten but we counted Tom's spirit. We also counted Lakshmi, the Centre's patron goddess. Rama served a red wine which he said was expensive. I recalled that weeks before, he had counseled disciples to avoid alcohol.