Lena got up and followed the man in the shades out of the satsang hall. She knew that it would be no use to try and escape. Besides, she just couldn't disturb the other premies in the middle of satsang. Her heart was pounding, and her mind was moving at a million miles an hour. Voices seemed to be coming from everywhere inside her head. 'Where is your dedication,' they said, 'Maharaji walks a thousand miles for your one measly step, and you can't even take that one step.'
'I know, I know', she answered to the voice. She felt like crying. 'If only I'd been a better devotee, this wouldn't be happening to me. I should have given ALL the money to the plane project. I promise I will next time, Maharaji', she thought, 'If there is a next time...'
Outside the satsang hall, the man in wraparound shades led her towards another sinister figure lurking in the shadows. She was paralyzed by fright. The other man slowly moved towards her. He was tall and thin, and his dark Italian suit reminded her of the Mafia types she had seen around Tulsa. She turned to try and run, but the tall man grasped her arm and stepped from the shadows. In the harsh glare of the streetlight she recognized Michael, one of the most important people around Maharaji.
'Lena', he said. He knew her name! Durga Ji has told us that she wants you to do security on Maharaji's plane for his next tour of the Pacific.' Apparently, Durga had heard about her kung fu training and her topless mud wrestling in Tulsa. She was to train secretly with several other premies for three weeks before leaving for India. As Michael spoke to her, she realized that her longing had been answered. Oh how merciful is Guru Maharaj Ji, that he had heard her tears, her longing to take that one step, her need to escape from the people who might be pursuing her. He had rescued her! She felt her old long-dormant faith in Maharaji's grace come flooding back.
As Lena sat in the back of her commercial flight to India several weeks later, she was still disoriented by the sudden change in her life. By Maharaji's grace she had been plucked from an almost certain slide back into her mind, not to mention possible repercussions from her cocaine episodes. Now she was doing service for the Lord's jet, although she didn't actually get to ride in it. She smiled blissfully when she thought of the prophecy about the lord coming on the clouds - it was really happening!
But the harsh gray landscape of Delhi airport brought her back to reality. This was not what she had had in mind when she accepted this service. The hot muggy air made it hard to breathe. She had been granted all too fleeting glimpses of her lord on her six hour shifts doing security. She was tired and the jet lag and lack of sleep were making her feel spacy. I have got to keep it together, and remember Holy Name, she thought. Or they won't let me do this service anymore.
Meanwhile, in a dark corner of a customs office in Brisbane, Australia, Bluey Mahoney was talking in harsh whispers to his subordinate, Crocodile McGee. 'You realize what this means, mate,' said Bluey, 'This gooroo bloke's coming from India, stopping in Malaysia, then straight to here'.
'Er....no mate', replied the baffled Croc, 'What does it mean?'
'DRUGS, MATE, DRUGS! How else do ya think these gooroo people make their dough? He's comin' direct from Malaysia, bringin' the drugs here and passing them on to his airport security. I checked out the security company-it's only been going a month. It's a sham, mate, a sham.'
As the 707 touched down at Brisbane International Airport, it was an unusually active morning. The federal police with their sniffer dogs were everywhere. As Maharaji stepped off the plane, he had that disgruntled, piercing look he often got when he was inconvenienced. He didn't even look at Lena or the other security people as they stood by the plane waiting for him.
Lena had to show the customs agents and police around. She felt like crying as the dogs roamed the plane and gruff agents in their dirty shoes stomped all over it, leaving no shelf, cupboard or drawer unsearched. Finally they were finished and departed. No drugs had been found, but the interior of the plane was a wreck. Lena sat in a corner weeping for the lack of recognition the world had for the living lord. The harsh clanging of a plane door brought her sharply back from her tears. Everyone had gone - even Michael. She was locked in the plane!
Lena began to frantically search for a way out. She ran into a room, and saw a huge waterbed looming before her. My God, she was in Maharaji's bedroom! And someone else was in the room!
She looked up to see familiar eyes. It was Ben from Miami! He was dressed in the black and white security uniform of Maharaji's Brisbane airport security. So he had been sent here too! In the back of her mind, she wondered how Ben had been chosen to do security. No one was more devoted to Maharaji than Ben, but he was different than all the other people around Maharaji that she'd met. He did things his own way. People like Ben usually didn't get chosen for jobs around Maharaji. But he had always been so nice to her in Miami. And she'd never really noticed before how attractive he was. He wasn't classically handsome, like Red, but, in a way, Ben looked even more appealing to her. Maybe she was just lonely.
'Lena! Why are you crying?', Ben asked with concern.
'I'm so upset about the invasion of the plane by those monsters! I hope Maharaji is all right! They just don't understand how selfless and self-sacrificing he is!"
Ben took her hand. "Here, sit down and relax."
"I can't sit down on Maharaji's bed!" Lena cried.
'It's OK. He won't sleep on the same set of sheets two nights in a row anyway." Ben grinned at her and sat down on the bed. 'C'mon, let me massage your back.'
Sitting down beside him and closing her eyes, Lena let Ben massage her back. 'Ben, you are a professional' she said, relaxing.
Ben smiled. 'I was never trained, but I do it a lot. I think all businesses should have someone that just goes around and massages the other employees. Here, let me massage your feet, scoot back on the bed.' While he was massaging her feet and ankles, he asked 'Do you want to hear a joke Mahatma Ji told me?'
Lena knew that you could never tell about Ben's jokes, but she said, 'Sure.' Besides, the massage felt so good. She was starting to let go of all the worries that she'd been hanging on to.
Ben began massaging her calves, moving up to her knees in long stokes. 'While walking along the beach, a man noticed a woman with no arms or legs crying. 'What's the matter?' he asks, 'I'm very lonely because I have no arms or legs. I have never been held tight' she said. He picked her up and held her tight for a while then put her back down. She started to cry and he said 'What's the matter now?' and she said 'Because I have no arms or legs, I have never been kissed passionately'. He picks her up and kisses her passionately for a little while and then puts her down again.'
Ben was concentrated on massaging Lena's legs now. He sat in between her knees, working first on one lower thigh and then another. He continued with the story. 'She started to cry and he asked again, 'What's the matter now?' She said 'Because I have no arms and legs, I've, well, I've never been screwed.' With that, he shrugs, picks her up and throws her into the ocean and says, 'Now you're screwed.'
Lena started laughing. 'Ben, you're terrible! Mahatma Ji didn't tell you that joke!' Ben started laughing too, and collapsed on top of her. Then slowly, he kissed her lips.
Hot flashes coursed through her body. That familiar feeling again. But she'd never felt this way around Ben before, or could it be that she'd just never noticed it? She'd been so upset the whole time she was in Miami. They stared at each other and then down at the bed. They couldn't - not on the lord's bed, could they?
Ben began to massage the more intimate parts of Lena's body with his hands and mouth. Lena felt waves of heat repeatedly moving through her body as he bent over her. She put her hand on his head to push him away because it was just too much - too overwhelming. Ben lifted up his head and said 'I guess this is the compensation women get for having periods and childbirth. The multiple orgasm feature sure is a hell of a gift to women.' Lena started giggling, and welcomed him inside with a cry and an embrace.
They climaxed together, and Lena closed her eyes in rapture. I would have never imagined, she thought, It must true that guys who can make you laugh are the best lovers. She looked up at Ben and smiled, then she pulled him close to her. The waterbed shifted beneath them...the waterbed...Maharaji's waterbed! Oh no, they had profaned Maharaji's bed! What could she have been thinking?! She hadn't been thinking, that was the problem. Or maybe she had been thinking too muxh! Oh, who knows. She had forgotten where she was, and what she should have been doing. She pushed Ben aside and jumped up. 'We shouldn't have done that!' she cried.
'Lena, Lena, it's all right.' Ben said in a comforting tone. 'You don't have to get in your mind about this. We didn't do anything wrong.'
'Ben, Maharaji has been very specific about this - about the lusts of the body versus practicing knowledge. Don't you think Maharaji knows everything that's happening? How can I look him in the face,' she responded, disgusted with herself. It'll take me days of service, of effort to get back in His grace, she thought. It's five steps forward, 10 steps back, the story of my life with knowledge. I am so unworthy, after Maharaji has sent sign after sign to me of His supreme love for me.
Lena dressed hurredly and despite Ben's protestations, she straightened the bed linens, ran into an adjoining room, and prostrated herself before Maharaji's picture. 'Forgive me, Lord, please help me to stay focussed so that I can perform this service to you.' she cried.
Ben, surprised at Lena's guilt attack, shrugged and went to the kitchen for a bite to eat. He found lots of Maharaji's leftovers. Ah, prashad, he thought; caviar, champagne, and a hunk of Brie and crackers. He feasted a bit and then decided he'd better figure out where he and Lena were supposed to be...
Meanwhile, Bluey sat sulking in his office. 'How the fuck does 'e make all his money if its not from drugs!? I've never seen anything like that plane before. Ah well, Croc, such is life, no heroic headlines for us, mate. Hey mate, did you have a piss in the gold toilet?'