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.
He showed us a cake decorated with the image of a frog. "You will get some cake after the meeting," he said, as though addressing a group of children. The decoration reminded me of Kermit. I wondered if he had reincarnated the symbol as part of a spiritual lesson, or if it was just icing on the cake.
A few minutes later Rama put on electronic music, picked up the original Bliss puppet, and started to dance.
The disciples watched, their faces aglow with adoration. I wondered if I used to look like that. "Don't watch," I thought and walked away. In a corner of the room, I quietly danced with a Bliss of my own.
The music stopped. Rama instructed us to sit in a circle in the living room. I hesitated. "Something about this doesn't feel right," I thought. I sat down, nonetheless, and meditated with the group.