“Dollars.”
“Perfect. The changing areas are there. Kindly place all your possessions into the sacks provided with your clothes, and I will sign your valuables in. There are no phones or computers allowed, but don’t worry about your belongings — the vault is quite secure, so there is no need to worry about anything.”
They emerged from the changing rooms minutes later clad in identical outfits. Drake whispered to Allie as they returned to the counter with their bags in tow, “You look amazing.”
Allie blushed and whispered back, “You’re not looking very brotherly.”
“Maybe I can be your stepbrother?”
“Cool your jets,” she warned.
“Yes, sis.”
Allie paid the woman, who issued a receipt and handed it to Allie along with two documents. “Here are your lists of daily chores,” the woman explained. “You will be expected to start them tomorrow. Today, you are encouraged to meditate and prepare for the dusk assembly, with His Holiness in attendance. Then the evening meal and contemplation and devotion time until bed. Welcome to the ashram. You will find that it is an amazing place.” The woman called out into the back, “Dev! Please come show our new guests to their rooms and give them an orientation.”
A young man with narrow hips and shoulders padded from the rear of the building on bare feet and bowed to them. He smiled with a faraway look in his eyes, and his gaze settled briefly on Drake before flitting to Allie.
“I am Dev. Blessed is Swami Baba Raja. Come, I will show you to your quarters. Where are you from?” he asked.
“California,” Allie said.
“Really? Your accent…” Dev began, confusion in his eyes.
“Oh, I was raised in Texas.”
“Ah, of course. This way, please.”
He led them to the dorms and indicated one wing for Allie, another for Drake. “That’s the women’s area, and this is for men,” he explained, giving them their room numbers. “Over here is the dining area, and there, the assembly hall.”
“What’s that?” Drake asked, pointing to a large building with gold-painted arches.
“Oh, that is the swami’s residence. It’s his home, as well as the living quarters of his most senior staff.”
“It’s beautiful,” Allie commented, taking in the carved reliefs over the arches, hundreds of depictions drawn from Hindu mythology carved into the three-story façade.
“Yes, we are very fortunate to be in its presence on a daily basis. So close to the great one, and reminded of such by his artisans’ handiwork.”
“He lives there full time?”
“He travels occasionally, but nowadays, not often. The faithful come to him when they feel the draw, and he finds it more important to be here for them than to spread his word. He has many who do so for him, so it isn’t necessary.”
“Have you ever seen the interior? It must be incredible.”
“Once, when I was on special cleaning detail. And yes, it is breathtaking.” Dev paused. “At the assembly tonight, you will be presented to the swami along with the rest of the new devotees. It is a great honor, but he is generous with his blessings. You are truly in luck.”
“That’s wonderful!” Allie gushed. “I can hardly wait.”
“Have you been at the ashram a long time, Dev?” Drake asked as they ambled along a path toward the assembly hall.
“Four years. It feels like yesterday. You will find that time ceases to matter once you’ve embraced the swami’s energy. It is eternal, and to bask in it is like bathing in the cool waters of a blessed lake.”
Half an hour later, Dev had finished the tour and told them to listen for the gong that announced the assembly was going to begin. He encouraged them to rest, which was easier said than done, they found, their rooms equipped only with reluctant ceiling fans and no mosquito netting on the windows. When the gong rang, it was with considerable relief that they made it to the open-air assembly space, where one of the staff showed them to the area reserved for new attendees. They joined the twenty or so of the day’s arrivals, all seated cross-legged on the stone floor, and waited as the group chanted the swami’s mantra. The effect of thousands of voices repeating the same syllable over and over was mesmerizing, even to nonbelievers like Drake and Allie.
Drumming interrupted the collective trance state, and a procession arrived from the swami’s residence. The holy man floated among his faithful, smiling at the group and waving his hand in blessing as he approached the raised dais.
Drake leaned into Allie and whispered over the drums and chanting voices, “Oh, brother.”
She shushed him as the swami took a seat on an elaborate golden throne. After several minutes of descriptions of the swami’s benevolent deeds, one of his minions gave the equivalent of a sermon, with plentiful reminders of cosmic energy, atemporal unified fields, and the duty of the enlightened to serve the less fortunate — and of course, to spread the gospel according to Swami Baba Raja. When the oratory was over, the new devotees were led to the swami, who materialized holy ash and sent a shower of it over their heads.
When Drake and Allie were presented to him, his eyes fixed upon Allie, and Drake saw something all too familiar in his countenance. Drake had to fight back the instinct that rose in him at the man’s attention to her, but the swami barely noticed him.
“Welcome, young ones. It warms my heart to meet you,” the swami said, in good English.
“As it does ours,” Allie and Drake said together, repeating the line they had been told to use when the swami spoke his ritual line of greeting.
“I’m glad you finally made it,” the swami said, taking Allie’s hand in his while deviating from the script, which they’d been told would consist of his greeting, their response, and then their dismissal so the swami could bless the next in line. “I have been waiting for you to arrive.”
Neither of them was sure how to respond, but the swami seemed unfazed. “What is your name, child?” he asked her.
“Allie.”
“Like music. Allie. Truly blessed,” he said, and winked. Allie smiled in return, and then the swami seemed to remember himself. He waved them away and tore his eyes from Allie only after she’d returned to her spot on the floor.
“Tell me that wasn’t weird,” Drake whispered to her. “Guy’s an old lech.”
“I’ll say,” she muttered under her breath, while keeping her smile. “We are indeed blessed,” she said more audibly. “He is magnificent — like staring directly into the sun. We are unworthy to be in his presence.”
Drake took the hint and remained silent, his stomach twisting. The swami looked like he had been ready to tear Allie’s clothes off; there was no mistaking the path of enlightenment he wanted to show her. Drake forced the resentment away — of course Allie would catch the eye of the old pervert. She had a quality, a bearing, that was indeed special, and it was foolish to expect nobody besides himself to notice.
An hour later the chanting subsided, and the swami’s entourage accompanied him back to his residence. The musicians began packing up and the group stood. The Germans were chatting in broken English with three young women from Portugal when a thin man with oil slicked hair approached and spoke quietly to one of them. Her face lit up with excitement and she nodded, and then the man smiled and came over to where Drake and Allie were looking around, trying to figure out what to do next.
“The swami has chosen you to participate in a special blessing this evening, young one,” he said to Allie. Drake caught the look in her eyes and excused himself with a nod.
“Really?” she exclaimed once Drake had left.
“Yes, it is a special honor few are selected to attend. It will begin following the evening meal. Will you be coming?”