But four days later they weren't laughing any more.
As the True Enlightenment sailed irregularly southward and entered the Caribbean bound for Martinique, the Guru Baalow Nee was neither seen nor heard. His sudden and inexplicable absence had an affect on the moral of the ship as devastating as his presence had been exhilarating.
It was sad but true: the Guru was essential to anyone's having a good time. As one young architect from Florida put it, 'He's the only one ridiculous enough to set a proper example.' And what was more, people hadn't paid their money to get on a ship and potter about in warm climates. They'd come because of the Guru. They liked what they'd seen and they wanted more. They were entitled to it. They had bought it! 'Meditation-Schmeditation,' they were fond of pronouncing. 'He ought to get his ass out here.'
Women started wearing blouses again-mostly, of course, to protect themselves from sunburn-and one or two passengers began to worry that word of the doings on the ship would filter back to hometown acquaintances. Could it be that nobody really ever got anything for nothing?
On Wednesday evening, a week and a day after the Guru had plucked Andrea out of Folk City, there was a fight in the audience during one of her sets. The Guru's bodyguards put a quick and gentle end to it, but it somehow seemed that the atmosphere of felicity and trust that had once been the life's breath of the cruise was definitely- perhaps irrevocably-polluted.
After the performance Andrea and Sean sat around rapping with Joanna, John, Joe, Mindy, and Josh. Things had reached such a tow point that everyone was wearing clothes. Andrea didn't feel she'd sung well, Sean was worried about the fact that he hadn't done any work since the beginning of the cruise and was behind schedule on his deadlines, Joanna was wondering whether there'd really be a job waiting for her when she got back to the City… everyone had his own personal problems. But the question was-why were they worrying about them now? And the answer was, because the Guru had to all intents and purposes vanished. And then the question was-what the hell had happened to him?
'Maybe he really is nuts,' Sean offered. Tin sure the guy's some sort of genius, but maybe he goes on the fritz now and then.'
'Maybe he died,' Josh suggested. 'And the others don't want us to know about it'
'Ha. I think he's conducting some land of psychological experiment,' John guessed. 'Makes sense. He wants to see how we do on our own.'
'The answer is… not very good,' Andrea observed.
There was a knock on the door. Andrea answered and Mei Ling, with a rather serious expression on her face, beckoned her out into the hall. 'The Guru would like to see you. You and your friend-the writer. Sean is his name?'
'Yes. The Guru wants to see us?'
'That's right.' Mei Ling peered in at the group in the living room of the suite. 'Don't tell the others anything but that you don't know how long you'll be.' She whispered almost inaudibly; 'You are to take a vital part in one of the Guru's most sacred rituals. No outsider has ever been admitted to these rituals before. Once they are performed the Guru will appear again in public and all will be as before. Come quickly.' She walked down the hall and waited.
'Hey Sean,' Andrea said casually, 'we've got a date.' She leaned down and confronted him eye-to-eye. 'The Guru wants to see us.'
The group came alive with curiosity. 'What for?' 'What's going on?' 'Where is he?' 'What's he doing?'
Andrea smirked characteristically. 'All I'm allowed to say is that we don't know when well be back.' She held out her arm and Sean took it ceremoniously. 'So don't wait up for us… ' They swept out into the hall and followed Mei Ling up toward the Guru's cabin just aft of the bridge.
When they got there two of the wrestler-types were guarding the door. They nodded to Mei Ling and she opened it with a key and ushered Sean and Andrea in.
The cabin was one single room thirty feet wide by seventy long. It was crowded with potted trees and fountains and streams that ran between mossy artificial banks. Wild birds-parrots and peacocks and hummingbirds-squalked and strutted and flitted about. The entire wall of the cabin that faced the sea was glass- one-way glass, Sean could tell, and recessed. He wondered what it looked like from outside.
Mei Ling led them down toward the far end of the indoor jungle where there was a light burning. They heard the low mumble of voices and the tinny sound of what could only be a cheap portable radio. It was playing oldies from the fifties. 'Teen Angel' was on.
The Guru was sitting at a card table with the black woman. He was flipping cards up casually, one at a time, smoking a Lucky Strike and talking to her like a Brooklyn dockworker. 'Whatcha say, honey-pot? Wanna get laid? Huh? I got me a six-pack in my convertible. I got me a packa Trojans. Whatsa matter, ya scared or somethin? Scared a yer mommy?' He wore a greasy T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans held up by a thick belt with a heavy buckle-the land small-time hoods had once been fond of whipping off when the word 'rumble' was heard. The remainder of his pack of Luckies was rolled up in the sleeve of his T-shirt.
'Hey, baby, howya doin?' he asked, jumping to his feet and clapping Andrea on the shoulder as they arrived. He squeezed her ass. 'Nice trailer ya got there.' He nodded to Sean. 'Ready ta have some fun, man?' Sean nodded diffidently, unable to figure out what this newest impersonation meant.
'Okay,' the Guru announced. 'This here's Sissy.' He pointed to the black chick, who was about thirty, very classy-looking, with a sharp-featured face, quick eyes, a bushy Afro, and a five-five figure that looked like it had been poured into a mold. She was wearing a fifties-style dress with sequins.
The Guru picked a couple cans of Rheingold beer from a six-pack that sat on the floor beside him and shoved them across the table to Sean and Andrea as they took their places. Mei Ling disappeared briefly and returned in a pair of shocking green short-shorts and a skimpy blue halter. Andrea didn't know what to think, but the magnetism of the Guru's presence was strong on her and she waited expectantly for the promised ritual to begin.
'So howya enjoyin the cruise?' the Guru wanted to know.
Andrea frowned thoughtfully. 'It was great… before you disappeared. Now it's not so great.'
'Oh yeah. That. Well, a guy can only do so much, ya know. I'm gonna reappear soon. Doncha worry about that. I'll get the shit under control. In fact, that's why youse guys are here.' He looked at Andrea evaluatively. 'I needed some sexy chick to bang to get me outa this crappy mood I got inta. Fuckin No Touch Shot always puts me in a bummer for a coupla days. That's why I don't pull that stunt much. Anyhow, in my humble opinion you're the sexiest thing on this tub.' He got up abruptly. 'And you're hip, too. Get what I mean?' He winked at her.
She wasn't sure she got what he meant but she knew she was going to get laid and that excited the hell out of her.
'So,' he said, 'we may as well get started.' He waved at Mei Ling and Sissy and addressed Sean. 'Some mighty fine ass here, pal, and I ain't been able to do much for it in the past coupla days, so help yerself. We're gonna use the couch here.' He pointed to an old, dingy-looking gray couch with stains and cigarette burns that sat nearby. It hardly fitted with the opulent decor of the rest of the cabin-and the ship. 'Wouldya believe, this is the original couch from my mother's place in Brooklyn? She caught my eighth-grade girlfriend blowin me on that couch.' Sean and Andrea laughed and the Guru grinned. 'Come on, sweetie,' he said, pulling Andrea up by the arm and leading her to the couch. 'How about we start with a nice blow-job, just like the one my momma caught Ruthie Goldfarb giving me?'
'I'll do my best,' Andrea replied.
The Guru pulled a pack of Doublemint out of his pocket, popped two sticks, and chewed noisily as Andrea drew down his jeans. She laughed when she saw he was wearing plain white Jockey shorts underneath.
'And make it good,' he ordered in a tough-guy voice.
Andrea fingered his limp cock, checked out his rather tight ball-sack, and, from a kneeling position on the floor in front of him, went to work. She took the whole thing in her mouth and swirled it around, tugged at it gently with her lips, licked it up and down. Baalow Nee sat smiling down at her with something akin to smug satisfaction.
When, after a few minutes of hard work, Andrea had got absolutely nowhere, he seemed a little frustrated. He grabbed her head between his hands and held it steady and started fucking her mouth. 'Hey, baby, way to take it in there!' he cried as he started to get hard and his rod jabbed down her throat. It was a little uncomfortable but it was also exciting.
The wooden cock-statue from Africa came to mind.
