The soul is plunged in utter ignorance, when she supposes that she can attain to the high estate of union with God before she casts away the desire of all things, natural and supernatural, which she may possesss.
"Oh, if it's respect you wanted you should have said so and I would have sent you to a group who would think you were marvelous and heap praise on you day and night." Cartwright paused. "No, I'm too busy providing experiences from which people can learn. I can't guarantee anybody respect, even a Governor."
The woman began to speak. "I provided an experience through which you could see yourself in the mirror of events."
That seemed rather enigmatic to Ben. But he guessed he would listen. However, no one spoke, and when the silence became overpowering to Ben, he continued. "What you said about me is true?" He asked the woman.
"Yes," she replied. "It allowed you to become furious, but most important, it allowed you to observe your fury. And it gave you the opportunity to reject Dr. Cartwright as a fake guru once for all, if you were going to do that."
"Well, I certainly was furious, I guess I'd call it righteous indignation."
"My denunciation of you is the same kind of indictment you heap on the Establishment, as you call it," the woman continued. "You had the opportunity to see how absurd your tirade against social evil--especially Gorgon--really is."
"Then why the hell put up with me if I'm as horrible as all that?" Ben barked. And it suddenly was clear to him that he still wasn't observing his unbefitting pique, that it was still in control of him.
"Because of what just passed through your mind," Cartwright said. "You're beginning to get just a bit of control over seeing who you are and who we are. Nothing more than a glimmer, but it's a start. And you've passed one or two other tests as well. Now," Cartwright said to everyone in the room, "we can continue our session."
Ben somwhat sheepishly moved over to another seat within the circle of about a dozen people. He still found it hard to believe that the bag lady and her "worshippers" were a part of Cartwright's enterprise. Most surprising of all was that the woman was Cartwright's teacher. He had supposed that Cartwright was an advanced guide who needed no mentor.
"Are there any questions about our experience with the Governor?" Cartwright asked the group.
The voluptuous young lady asked, "What happens if the Governor doesn't observe his inappropriate anger at your presenting him a stereotype of his prejudices?"
"He will either later come to a realization, or, if not, he'll stay away from us and warn other unacceptable people about a sex-starved hippy guru who consorts with bag ladies and smokes pot. Perhaps this event will be written about in a novel and people will learn from it. Whatever happens, the Enterprise is advanced."
Ben wondered if he should speak, but his burning question burst out. "With Randolph's defeat, some exceptionally depraved people have now come into power. What are Perennialists doing about this?"
Ben was disconcerted to say the least.
Cartwright said evenly. "You think the country, the world even, is about to drown in corruption. The real danger for you is that you may drown in your own pride and heedlessness. You're not yet capable of understanding what's really going on, in the Khidr and Moses sense, so it's not yet any of your business as what our larger Enterprise is doing. Your work for now is to make yourself worthy to become a seeker, to become effectively aware of your false belief that you dislike vanity. It's concealed arrogance, for example, to think that you are responsible for the suffering masses or to think that you know enough to make things right with the world."
Back in Washington, Ben now looked at everything in a new light. Even his job, which had been his passion, now seemed ordinary, perhaps somehow wrong for him. With the inauguration of President Binkley, Ben began to see Gorgon in an increasing number of press conferences. Gorgon was President Binkley's Chief of Staff and seemed to play the controller role that Kissinger, Brzezinski, and Rove had played with Nixon, Carter, and Bush II. Angela, however incongruous it seemed to Ben, was now the First Lady. She was seen in TV specials, showing off her wardrobe and giving a tour of the newly refurbished Whitehouse.
As the Gorgon administration took control of the nation, it became evident to Ben that Americans were progressively less in touch with reality. A great number of TV shows now featured cartoon figures as the main characters, a non-reality imposed on a non-reality. The deterioration of the American mind was visible in the gun-ridden, drug-infested schools, illiterates posturing as virtuosos; movies filled with nothing but violence, murderers celebrated as harmless, lovable human beings. When Ben saw Gorgon on TV, it was clear that Gorgon was preaching the message that politics is too complicated for common people to understand.
Joan had gone over to one of the networks and become an anchor woman. She seemed to be doing well. It was a surprise one evening to receive a call from her. "Hey, you big lug, are you generous enough to forgive a foolish lady's gauche stupidity?"
"Well," Ben retorted, "that's an interesting beginning."
"Hey, I'm terribly sorry about what I said to you. I had no right to take my frustrations out on you--and that's what it was, believe me. I didn't really mean anything I said."
"I guess we ought to talk about all this," Ben said wistfully. "I'd like to see what we can make of all that's happened. And, I've got a lot to tell you, if you can listen without telling me how much of an idiot I am."
"Hey, I said I'm sorry," Joan retorted, then realized she was acting inappropriately again. "Jeez, there I go again. Listen, I really am sorry for everything and I'd love to see you."
"Well, then, let's do it," Ben said quickly. They agreed to have dinner together the next evening at the Sequoia restaurant. Ben had chosen the Sequoia because of its romantic view of the Washington harbor, casting a chimerical spell.
Overwhelmed by her appearance, Ben reminded himself that he wanted to see if their relationship could run on an even keel. He didn't want a repetition of what had occurred, no matter how breathtaking she might be this evening. The conversation meandered for a few moments: Joan's new job, Ben's new project, profiling officers attending the various War Colleges.
Joan finally broke the ice. "So, what's happening with you and Cartwright?"
Ben looked at her searchingly to make certain if she honestly wanted to hear what he had to tell her.
"Yes, I really want to know," Joan replied to his unspoken thoughts.
Ben took his time in telling Joan everything that had happened at the Healdsburg center: the bag lady turning into Cartwright's teacher, Governor Green's indignation at Cartwright's absurd hippy scene, the explanation of how the Hope Mission episode had actually been a bequest to Ben. There was a bewildered look on Joan's face. It was a lot to take in, Ben had to agree.
There were tears in his eyes as he told about his anger turning into chagrin and his elation at being allowed to continue studying with Cartwright.
Joan took Ben's hand in hers and looked ardently at him. "I can't begin to understand what you experienced, but it seems like what you want. So that's good enough for me."
Joan laughed quiely. "The fake guru turns into the fairy godmother, the Governor of California is humiliated by a vulgar hippy, and our hero finds his Teacher."
Ben wasn't sure how to take her comment.
Joan continued. "All in all it sounds like a good ending to a very strange melodrama."
"I'm thinking of quitting my job and moving to Healdsburg," Ben said quietly. He knew this would be quite a shock to her.
"My god!," Joan exclaimed, "you can't be serious." She gazed at Ben with bewilderment. "What's going on with you?"
"I'd like to be able to spend more time at Cartwright's teaching center. I haven't even discussed it with him yet, but I'm seriously thinking about it."
Joan's first reaction was to blurt out what a complete fool Ben was--that was certainly the way she felt. But she didn't want to alienate him, the relationship meant too much to her. And she felt there must be something genuine in what Ben was feeling.
"I have to be honest," she said, " I still have serious doubts about Cartwright's integrity." She glanced at Ben to see his reaction, then continued. "I sense what an overwhelming experience you must have had--and it's done something to you, it's clear. But I'm still sceptical." She looked seriously at Ben. "And what about our efforts to expose Gorgon? Is that all in the past?"
"I have doubts as well," Ben said, "but there's something in what I'm learning with Cartwright that I can't deny. I don't expect to become some 'Great Enlightened Person' or anything like that, but you know I've always been interested in knowing more about spiritual matters. And Gorgon . . . I don't know how to fight him or even if I want to fight him anymore."
They both realized that their discussion had brought them down from the high of seeing each other again. "Look," Ben said eagerly, "why don't you go with me the next time I have a chance to attend a meeting--if I can bring a guest."
The expression on Joan's face showed that she was somewhat put off by his suggestion. "I'm afraid I'd be a disturbance."
They left it at that. The evening ended on a somewhat chilly note, both promising to call and saying how nice it was to see each other again. But there was no suggestion that they spend the rest of the evening together.
As Ben drove home, he realized that he'd pushed a bit too much for Joan's comfort zone. He reminded himself that spiritual study--or whatever--was not everyone's cup of tea. Joan had told him of her early indoctrination in a fundamentalist Baptist home--one from which she'd escaped at the earliest opportunity. So it was no surprise that anything that smacked of "religion" was questionable if not abhorrent to her.
So I'll go slower. Or maybe Joan won't want to have anything to do with my studies. I'd at least like for her to understand what I'm doing, even if she doesn't get involved. Right now, I think what I told her is a bit too much for her.
Ben wrote to Cartwright, explaining his feeling that he'd like to move to Healdsburg so he could attend more teaching sessions, if possible. As he reflected on his last experience at the center, he puzzled over precisely where he was in his studies with Cartwright. It's clear, from Rabia's response, that there are some things--maybe a lot of things--that I'm not ready for yet. But they seem to think that I have some potential, or why would they bother with me? I wonder what Cartwright meant that I'd passed a test or two?
Ben pursued his possible plan of moving to the Healdsburg area. He wrote to the heads of the psychology departments at Sonoma State University in Rohnert Park and Santa Rosa Junior College, enclosing his resume and asking if there was part-time teaching available.
He was pleased when he received a friendly letter from the Santa Rosa Junior College psych department chairperson, a Ms. Thornton, saying that she would be pleased to speak with him when he was in the area and that, yes, there were part-time assignments he might very well fill.
Work at the agency was interesting, as usual. He was currently developing a personality profile on officers who attend War Colleges, as part of a training program in social responsibility. Ben was surprised when he received a call from Joan at his office.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ben replied.
"This guy says he's a representative of Cartwright and he's banging on my door and you don't know anything about it? Where in the hell did he get my name and address?" Sarcasm dripped from her words.
"I'm telling you I have no idea what you're talking about or who this guy is or where he got your name and address." Ben paused. "And I don't appreciate your yelling at me every time you get in a tiff! What's his name?"
Joan realized that she'd made a mistake--again, but it wasn't enough to overcome her anger. "Well, he says he's Cartwright's regional representative and came to my apartment to see if I'd like to buy some of his guru's books and attend an introductory meeting that he, the representative, is putting on. Says his name is Hakim Nuri. Sounds fishy to me," Joan said sarcastically.
This was inappropriate behavior, Ben felt, yet if what she said was true he could hardly blame her for being suspicious. "Look, I wish you'd stop to think before you start in on me, okay? I told you I don't know anything about this guy. The fact that he says he's linked to Cartwright doesn't sound kosher to me. I'll look into it. But I sure as hell don't appreciate your calling up and screaming at me--again. I'll be in touch."
He hung up. What in the hell is going on? Ben thought to himself. I'd better see what this guy is all about. He decided to call the Institute in Healdsburg and see if he could find out about this Hakim Nuri fellow.
Miss Spencer answered the phone and in her usual business-like manner, absent of chit-chat, asked what Ben wanted. He told her that someone by the name of Hakim Nuri was proselytizing in the Washington, D.C. area, claiming to be Dr. Cartwright's representative. Miss Spencer said that a person by that name had attended one of Dr. Cartwright's sessions, but that was all she knew. Anything more would have to come from Dr. Cartwright himself.
So he has attended a session with Cartwright, Ben mused. But how in the hell does he go around claiming to be Cartwright's representative . . . Ben suddenly stopped. Whoa, maybe I'm going off half-cocked again, just like I did with the bag lady. I'd better suspend judgement till I know more about this.
He received a call from Joan the next day. She was only somewhat less accusatory than the last time she'd called. "Did you find out anything about this Nuri guy?" she asked Ben abruptly.
"I haven't found out anything that tells me who he is or what connection he has to Cartwright. Why?"
"Because he had the audacity to con my condo manager into letting him hold his 'introductory session' in our public meeting room. A lot of the other condo owners were equally infuriated at his knocking on their door and trying to evangelize them. Evidently he duped our condo manager, a stupid woman at best, into thinking he's some religious wizard. I still don't know if you have anything to do with this . . ."
Ben cut her off in mid-sentence. "Look, I will not speak to you if you persist in your thoughtless accusations. I told you I knew nothing of the man and that's it." This time it was Ben who hung up.
His phone rang in a few minutes. He grabbed it and almost shouted. "Listen, I dont' want to hear any more about this Hakim Nuri!"
"Yes, this is Hakim Nuri," the voice said on the line, "though I don't how you knew my name."
"Who the hell are you?" Ben thundered.
"I am Hakim Nuri, Dr. Franklin Cartwright's representative for the Washington, D.C. area. Hakim means doctor, you know. I've called to invite you to an introductory session I'm having at the Arlington Arms condominium public meeting hall tomorrow evening. I understand you've also attended one or two of Dr. Cartwright's sessions in Healdsburg."
I'd better think this thing through before I go off half-cocked like I did with the bag lady. Ben remembered himself once more. "Well, I'd like to know a little more about you and the meeting," Ben said.
"I am a native of Pakistan. I have been studying Dr. Cartwright's works for the last three years. I came to the United States last year and am now teaching computer science in a community college in Washington, D.C. Dr. Cartwright has told me to continue studying his writings while I remain in Washington. I attended a session several weeks ago in Healdsburg and now I have come to Washington to advance Dr. Cartwright's work in this area." He paused for a moment.
"And I have received a very important special message from Dr. Cartwright which I will read for the first time at the meeting tomorrow evening. Dr. Cartwright asked that the missive remain sealed until the meeting time."
Ben hardly knew how to respond. It seemed absurd on the face of it. Yet here again was Cartwright touching his life in an extraordinary manner. "Yes, I'd like to attend," Ben said to Nuri. "I look forward to meeting you."
Nuri seemed pleased that Ben would attend. He indicated that several others from the condo and surrounding area would be there.
As Ben thought about it the next day, he was glad that he would not have to face Joan at the meeting this evening. She had been so enraged at Nuri that she would never show up. But, to his astonishment, she was seated in the front row of the small group of about two dozen in the meeting room when Ben arrived. He tried to stay out of eye sight, but she glanced back and grimaced at him. Now she's sure I'm in cahoots with Nuri, Ben reflected. Nuri didn't show up until just at 8 PM, the time designated for the meeting. He strode to the rostrum with a folder in his hands, stepped behind the podium and began to speak at once.
The crowd remained silent.
Nuri tore open an envelope, took out a sheet of paper, and smoothed it. He reminded the audience. "Remember, this special message is from Dr. Cartwright himself and I have not seen it before. Nuri then began to read solemnly.
Signed, Franklin Cartwright.
Nuri's voice trailed off at the end of reading the message. He was completely confounded and embarassed beyond endurance. He could not look at the audience. Snatching up the letter, envelope, and folder, he bounded from the dais and rushed out of the room.
The small group was aghast. A buzz of conversation arose immediately. Ben was glad that he was sitting at the back. He quickly made his exit. As he was approaching his car, he heard Joan calling to him. He wished he had escaped without having to speak with her.
Joan approached him, clearly not knowing what to say. "I have no idea what that was all about," she said to him.
"And you think I do?" Ben said with irritation.
"You were there." Joan retorted, evidently feeling that his presence proved his complicity.
"The guy phoned me and told me about the meeting. He told me the same thing he told you, that he was Cartwright's Washington, D.C. representative. I just came to see what the hell he was doing. I never thought you'd be there."
"Oh, yes, my friends and I were going to tell him exactly what we thought of him." She paused. "I guess it wasn't necessary."
"Yea, I think you'd be hitting a man when he's already down for the count. What a disaster for him."
"Look, I've got to go," Ben said quickly.
"Wait," Joan insisted, "I always seem to be apologizing to you these days."
"Don't bother," Ben said derisively. He was still angry at her.
"But I do want to apologize. I thought you had to be involved with this guy because he said he was Cartwright's envoy. I see now I couldn't have been more wrong. The wretch is nobody's representative but his own." She glanced at Ben. "In fact, the whole episode makes me feel that maybe there's more to Cartwright than I thought."
For a moment neither spoke.
"Look, I've got to go," Ben said again.
Joan could see that Ben was in no mood for apologies or conversation, so she returned to her condo deep in thought.
Ben puzzled over the Hakim Nuri episode for the next several weeks. He had been astounded at Joan's reaction: she had actually felt from the experience that there might be more to Cartwright than she had thought. Ben mused to himself that perhaps that had been part of Cartwright's intention in "allowing" the event. And there could be many other dimensions which I'm not seeing," Ben reflected.
He was particularly pleased to receive a call from Tailor the next evening.
"Dr. Hamilton, If you would like to attend next weekend's teaching sessions at the Institute, you would be welcome," Tailor said. "If you attend we would like you to present a brief synopsis of your experience at the Hakim Nuri meeting in Washington, D.C."
"Yes, I'd like to attend," Ben said at once.
"If you have someone you wished to bring to the weekend sessions as a guest," Tailor continued, "that would be appropriate."
After they had hung up, Ben wondered how they knew he had attended Nuri's meeting. He definitely wanted to attend the weekend meetings, so he booked the flight. His boss at the Agency questioned Ben about his spate of days off, but Ben told him that it was personal business and apologized for the absences. Ben knew Stephen wouldn't understand if he told him about his study with Cartwright. Fortunately, his frequent flights to California presented no financial problem because of his ample salary from the Agency.
The next evening Ben was surprised to receive a call from Joan shortly after he had reached his apartment.
"Ben, it's Joan--and don't hang up until I have a chance to say some things to you."
"Yes ma'am," Ben replied as if he were a military recruit to point out her imperious tone.
"Yes, well I am a pompous ass sometimes, recently quite frequently it seems. I hope you can accept my apology for assuming you had anythng to do with that Nuri fellow." She paused to see if Ben would respond. When he didn't, she continued.
"And I want to apologize for giving you the cold shoulder when you were good enough to share your experiences with Cartwright. The only excuse I can offer is my dreadful Baptist brainwashing I barely survived. I guess I've put all religious or spiritual stuff in the same category of deceit and fraud ever since." She paused again but Ben remained silent.
"Okay, I guess I can't blame you for being angry at me," Joan continued. "But I at least wanted to apologize."
"I'm not really angry so much as disappointed," Ben replied. "I felt we had something special, but no relationship can survive when one person continually acts disrespectfully to the other."
"You're absolutely right," Joan agreed. "Again, the only excuse I can offer is that I've had to be super-tough in my business dealings and I guess I've developed the bad habit of flying off the handle. I should never have done that with you, especially. I just hope you can, sometime in the future, forgive me for my inexcusable behavior."
"It's not my place to forgive you. The unfortunate thing about what's happened is that we've become strangers. We don't seem to be able to talk about what's really important to us."
"I miss that too," Joan said. "Anyway, I just wanted to say all that." She paused. "It's the strangest thing how that Nuri incident has been roiling around in my mind. Every time I think about it, I come up with a new interpretation. I was really serious that it makes me think there may be a lot more to Cartwright than I was willing to admit. He orchestrated that whole event of the meeting to allow for a variety of reactions." Joan paused again. "If you were serious about taking me along as a guest to one of Cartwright's meetings, I think I'd like to try it."
Ben wondered if this was the time to see if she'd like to attend the meetings the next weekend as a guest. What the hell, he thought, we'd better see if this thing can work. "Would you like to attend the teaching sessions next weekend in Healdsburg?"
Joan responded immediately. "Yes, I'd appreciate the opportunity. Are you sure it would be okay?"
"I don't know when I'll stop being amazed at what Cartwright does," Ben said. "I just received an invitation for the weekend and it included the offer of my bringing a guest, if you can believe it."
"You know," Joan said, "after that Nuri incident I can believe almost anything about Cartwright."
Ben remained bent forward for some time; the crying seemed to purge his soul. Finally, he lifted his head and gazed at the woman and then at Cartwright. He was dumbstruck. Then his anger returned. "You don't seem to respect people very much," he said to Cartwright. 
"We knew you would be enraged at what happened," Cartwright continued. "We gave you the opportunity to see that you are a bleeding-heart liberal and a dilletante activist and a person who can't observe his own rage and a supposed seeker who has very little ability to see the truth about himself."
The beautiful young lady in skimpy attire had put on a robe and now sat at some distance from Cartwright. Cartwright still looked ludicrous in his hippy getup. All in all it was a bit much for Ben to take in. 
Rabia at once looked at Ben, then spoke in a distinct manner. "That's none of your business!"
Ben made reservations in the morning from his office and arrived early at the restaurant. Joan greeted Ben with a lingering kiss when she arrived at his table. She was dressed to kill: a rich blue suit with black trim, black six-inch heels, her hair swept up in a French chignon, her perfume weaving an aromatic aura around her.
"What the hell is the idea of foisting your guru's evangelist off on me?" Joan roared. She was enraged. 
"As I have informed all of you, either by phone or in person, I am the representative of Dr. Franklin Cartwright. For those of you who do not know, Dr. Cartwright is the Teacher of the Age within the ancient Perennial Tradition, a spiritual discipline which gives immense power to its devotees. I cannot express to you the deep feeling of honor and privilege that I feel this evening to be able to read to you a very very special message from Dr. Cartwright himself. He sent this to me and asked that it remain sealed until I began the meeting this evening." Nuri stopped and look out at the small group.
"I must apologize to each of you who is attending this so-called meeting. This is how the entire situation came about. A week ago, Mr. Nuri arrived uninvited at a teaching session at my home in Healdsburg, California. Mr. Nuri has been hounding me the last several years with pleas to allow him to study with me. As Mr. Nuri was leaving I merely said to him: "Mr. Nuri, I want you do whatever you feel you can to advance your studies while you are in Washington, D.C."
