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on the world, I made the mistake of doing the enemy's work. When I opened my
eyes it was almost dark.
Immediately I sat up and turned on the light. I had slept away the entire day. If
my dream were true and I could only recall fragments of it then I had also
slept away the last few years. Had the Rishi ever told me that I was special? I
assumed he had.
Since my rebirth, I had taken pride in the fact that I was a Wanderer. A best-
selling writer who could save humanity with my amazing stories. Right I
couldn't even save myself. Yet the Rishi had said many things that emphasized
the specialness of each of us.
"Those of negative vibration crave power and dominance. That is their
trademark. You can spot them that way. They try to place themselves above
others. They feel they are especially chosen by God for a great purpose. But
God chooses everyone and all his purposes are great. "
The yogi had said similar words.
"That is a form of enlightenment. To feel like everyone belongs to you, and you
belong to them. That is something a Master will always teach. There is no
hierarchy in the family of man. We are all equal, all children of the divine. The
Master is the same as the student, the disciple, the devotee. The Master never
places himself above them because if he did then he wouldn 't be able to help
them. That's why we don't seek power. Those things separate us from each
other. They lead to ignorance, to darkness."
Why hadn't I been able to see that it was the Rishi who spoke to me through
the body of the yogi? That their truth was one? I had wanted proof, a miracle.
Even after the yogi had given me the miracle of my own inner peace, I left him.
And for what? To make out with Roger? What had my choice brought me but
misery?
Reaching over, I picked up the phone and called Peter. Jacob answered.
"Hello?"
"Jacob, this is Shari. How are you?"
He hesitated. "I'm OK, but we want you to come home. Peter misses you. I miss
you."
I forced a laugh. "I'll come home, tonight I promise. Is Peter there?"
"No. He's with the yogi."
"The yogi is still in town? I thought he was leaving."
"He is tonight. He's giving a talk at a house in Orange County now."
"Do you know where the house is? The address?"
"No."
"Did Peter happen to write down the address on a scrap of paper? Is there one
lying around?"
"I can't see one."
"Oh God, I'm sorry, Jacob. That was stupid of me to say."
"There probably is a scrap of paper here that has directions on it. I know Peter
was talking to the people at the house just before he left."
I paused. "Did Peter call these people for directions?"
"Yes."
"Have you made any calls since then?"
"No. I wouldn't use your phone without permission. I couldn't use this one if I
wanted to. The buttons are different than the ones on other phones. I don't
know what to push."
"Jacob, listen very carefully. The button on the lower right-hand side is the
Redial button. Don't push it now, but when I hang up I want you to push it. It
will almost certainly dial the number of the house where Peter and the yogi are.
Whoever answers, tell that person it is crucial for Peter Jacobs to call me
immediately at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Can you remember that?"
"Yes. I have a good memory. I will get him for you and have him call you. I
know he wants to talk to you a whole bunch."
"I want to talk to him a whole bunch. Hey, when's your next game?"
"Tomorrow. Can you come?"
"You bet. I'll be there."
"Can we go to Disneyland again?"
"Yes. Tomorrow." I don't know why there were tears in my eyes. "We can do
everything tomorrow, Jacob."
We exchanged goodbyes. A few minutes later the phone rang. It wasn't Peter
but a woman at the house where the yogi was staying. Peter, she said, was in a
private meeting with the yogi. But she would be happy to give me her address,
which was what I wanted most. She told me to be sure to hurry, the yogi's
plane was to leave in two hours.
"Tell him I'm coming," I cried.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"He knows my name."
CHAPTER XVIII
But I had put off seeing the yogi one time too many. When I reached the house,
he had gone. Peter waited outside in front for me, in his wheelchair, a red rose
resting in his lap. When he told me the news, I was devastated.
"But I need to talk to him," I cried. "Can we go to the airport?"
Peter shook his head. "He leaves from LAX, on the other side of town. He left
here a while ago. By the time we got there he would probably be boarding."
He handed me the rose. "He told me to give you this."
I smelled it such a lovely fragrance. "Did he say anything else about me?"
"Yes. He said to tell you, 'The writer has many stories in her. Whenever one
comes to an end, another begins.'" Peter paused, then added, "He also told me
to say that you have nothing to fear, that all has been taken care of."
"What did he mean?"
"I don't know. He acted like you'd know what he meant."
I was puzzled. Every word of his meant so much. It was difficult to know where
to apply his advice to my life. But perhaps it had yet to be applied.
Leaning over, I gave Peter a big hug.
"I missed you, my love," I whispered in his ear. "Do you still want me back?"
He had tears in his eyes. "Yes. Will you come back?"
"Yes." I kissed him. "And I will never leave you. Never ever."
"What made up your mind?"
I straightened up, glancing up and down the street. The strangest sensation
flowed through me. It was as if I were being filmed, studied, dissected. Yet no
one was there. A shiver made its way through my body as I thought of Bob,
what was left of him.
"Something happened last night," I said. "It was terrible. Then something
beautiful happened this afternoon while I slept."
"While you were asleep?"
"Yes. I had a dream. It explained so much to me. It put me in my place, so to
speak, and also reminded me of several important things the Rishi and the yogi
both said. Plus it helped me remember other dreams I've been having lately,
and what they mean." I shrugged. "I know I'm speaking like a crazy woman
again. But what's important is that I feel clearer now. I won't be seeing Roger
anymore."
Peter was grateful. "Good." He paused. "What are you looking for?"
I shrugged, although I continued to feel watched.
"Nothing."
"What happened last night?"
"It's a long story. Can I tell you later? At home?"
"Yes," he said. "Do you want to go there now?"
"Yes. It's a shame we came in separate cars. We can't drive together." I kissed
him again. "I don't want to leave you for a minute!"
He patted my side. "We'll live happily ever after," he promised. "Like in the
movies."
I laughed. "Like in a book, silly. Books are better."
Peter followed me in his van, as was our custom. I always fought my way to the
front to be the leader. To be important. That would stop now, I vowed. I would [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]