"It's okay, man," I thought,
hugging myself. I was frightened.
Suddenly the bell rang. I remained in my room. Atmananda answered
the door. It was Sal.
I heard Atmananda shout, "Salitos, take out the hot sauce!"
"Yowwwww!" I heard them yell moments later.
I opened the door to my room and saw them hopping around the kitchen.
For a moment I felt nostalgic. Drinking hot sauce and hopping around
with Atmananda had been one of my favorite experiences in the Centre.
Returning to my room, I quietly closed the door and tried to ignore them.
I imagined that I was living on Palomar Mountain by a clearing
in the forest. I imagined the brilliant California sun as it pierced
the thick morning fog below. I imagined the solitary red-tailed hawk
as it soared through the clear, blue, mountain sky on a course of
its...
The door flew open and in strode Atmananda. He took giant steps.
He was followed by Sal.
"Heyyy, Sal!" Atmananda blasted. "Da baby, he'sa thinkin'-a leavin'!"
"Baby," queried Sal, "you thinkin'-a leavin'?"
"Gespacho," cried Atmananda, not waiting for my reply, "where have-a
you been?"
"With-a Guacamole!" shouted Sal.
I was stunned. "How...how did they find out?" I thought.
They danced about the room singing about Guacamole, a young maiden
who blushed bright green.
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