"It may not be perfect," I told myself.
"But at least it's where I belong."
Al returned after a few minutes. "Rama said 'okay.'"
"Did he say anything else?" I asked, greatly relieved.
"Yes," Al replied. "Rama said that it's a tough world out there."
19. I'm Okay
When I rejoined the Centre, I was determined to be a good disciple.
I got a programming job in Newport Beach. I studied advanced
topics in computer science at UC Irvine. I rented a condo
for seven-hundred-twenty-five dollars per month, based on Rama's
suggestion in Boulder. I worked hard, meditated deeply, and stole
three eggs from a supermarket after Rama hiked the tuition again.
Rama treated me with kindness. Perhaps he believed that this time
I was really with him. He invited me to his house. He invited me
to the desert. He invited me to partake in his chemical experiments.
Roughly one hundred fifty miles southeast of the beaches of Orange County,
in the Anza Borrego Desert State Park, was a peak called Split Mountain.
More than thirty miles away, by the edge of the park, was Casa Del Zorro,
a cottage-renting resort catering to the upper middle class.
Here, Rama divined, was a good place to drop acid in a group.
During the drive to Casa Del Zorro, a fast-food restaurant triggered
a flashback of Rama giving Sal and me LSD and taking us to MacDonald's.
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