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Besides, at three a.m. in northern Malibu, he once took me over one hundred and twenty miles an hour. The acceleration had been breathtaking; the ride, smooth. The disciples now turned from the ocean to their cars. Anne, Dana, and I walked to our gifts from Rama two Mazda RX-7's and a Honda Civic Wagon, respectively.

The memory of the Malibu trip was fresh on my mind when I arrived in the Anza Borrego Desert and approached Casa Del Zorro. Soon I sat waiting in the cottage with Sal, Bill, and Al. Rama arrived late. He looked doughy faced and haggard. He said he was stressed out and exhausted. Perhaps he was in more of a rut than we were. Rama distributed the stamps.

Centre meetings in Los Angeles were first held in a small room in Hollywood, and then in a large room with a stage in Manhattan Beach. By the time meetings were held in the ornate Beverly Theater on Wilshire Boulevard in Beverly Hills, Rama commuted each week from his ocean-view Malibu rental to the expanding Centre in San Francisco. "You mean Hans Solo?" I asked. "You bet!"

Anne looked up from the "Statement" and said, "But Rama explicitly told us at the meeting in Malibu that he *did* take out a hand gun that night with Annie." "What Annie perhaps did not know," Anne added, "and what Rama fails to mention, is that he nearly *always* slept with a gun by his bed." Rama writes: Ms. Eastwood continued to attend my seminars for another year after our night together.

'We did, I admits, 'just one little chunk the size of a red apple and it weighed near a couple of ton whilst we was perishin' for water. But we stuck to it closer than a rich brother-in-law, says I. 'You been had! jeers Pete. 'What kind of talk is this? You caught that off o' Thorpe, over on the Malibu you been had! Talk United States!

"Here you are sitting next to a fully enlightened teacher," he said bitterly, "and all you can do is live in a world of fantasy." Rama was right, I decided, as I pushed the broom down the long driveway in Malibu. I was living in a world of fantasy.

It raced southward through Long Beach, Seal Beach and the deserted dunes to Newport and Balboa; it came east in a fury through Puente and Monrovia, northeastward it moved into Lancaster, Simi and Piru. Only in its course north did the weed show a slower pace; by the time we had been forced to leave Pomona for San Bernardino it had got no farther than Calabasas and Malibu.

But they had never gotten close enough to Rama to observe his *other* side. "Richard Loftin." I did not know him. But during nightmare weekend in Seattle, he reportedly sat across from the three tripping women and giggled. Rama continues in the "Statement": Annie Eastwood alleges that we had a single sexual encounter over five years ago in my home in Malibu, California.

Eastwood reported that during one encounter, Rama had misled her spiritually, abused her psychologically, showed her a gun, and demanded that she have sex with him. But now, at the 1987 late night Malibu gathering, he admitted: "I did have a hand gun with me that night with Annie... but I did not wave it around."

I missed Tom, the bass-guitar-playing disciple from Stony Brook whom Rama had put in charge of security. He left largely as a result of the "Omelet Incident." The "Incident" occurred in Rama's kitchen in Malibu. Rama sat with Tom and Fran, a tall, young UCSD recruit with a long, powerful stride and a glint of the wild in her eye. At around 2:30 a.m., Rama asked Fran to cook him an omelet.