Brian knew how worried Angelina was about the Jamaicans returning after the winter break. All of them contributed such a strong and communal aspect to the Consortium. The fledgling college would not only miss them if they remained in Jamaica; it would suffer.
But Royce returned from the semester break with his wife and two little girls. He drove a white truck and wanted to live in Asheville so his daughters could go to public school.
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“Those of us who see Trevor for who he is—we’re coming back. He’s going to catch enlightenment.”
Jacob, who had told Angelina he was going to California, changed his mind. Trevor, yah, had factored in his turn around. Like Royce, Jacob wasn’t about to leave the prophet. Not now that Trevor’s growing up. At the same time, he had to correct the prophet’s methods for growing ganja. Dege-dege buds.
And Earle, drummer and poet—naturally flew to Black Mountain. It was his home now. Winter or not. His woman lived here. And he earned big money doing work he loved.
Brian set up a full weekend of events for new students and teachers. The new semester started in ten days. Newcomers, and regulars, would participate in introductory projects. Optional but strongly encouraged. Brian and Angelina and Kaya had already discussed Trevor’s role. No “sit-downs,” no talk of spiritual recognition—and Trevor had agreed to the fullness. Because people were still driving up to Angelina’s on Sundays, seeking him out. The question was how to prepare newcomers so they saw no need to congregate around Trevor. True, they might not find anything amazing about him. But more and more, people spoke about his astounding presence and aura of happiness.
Trevor would attend the workshops as the student he was. No other way to play it. If Trevor came to every class, everyone would adjust to the environment. And weren’t they lucky to create art where so much truth and loving-kindness filled the air?
Trevor, meanwhile, wanted to take advantage of the sciences at UNC. He had an A (his first) in the WesternCiv class. This semester he had enrolled in a math class, the goal being physics. Past that, he wanted to study astronomy.
Kaya told him he’d need to move to the Chapel Hill campus for that. She said this during their new Sunday morning ritual. No more lazing in bed. He met the women downstairs and they drank coffee and read the newspaper together: Trevor’s idea.
After their bout of intimacy last week, Trevor had looked for Kaya. He found her in the main room and asked her to come outside with him. They’d take the steep trail a ways.
Once the trees secluded them, he asked, “So did you talk it over with Angelina? I mean, I felt terrible neglecting you, Kaya. Excited but just lying there on and on.”
She picked up a pebble, unable to look at Trevor, let alone speak.
So Trevor continued. “’Cause ’course, Angelina feels no way ’bout me being in bed with her, clothes on or off.”
Kaya’s voice quavered. “Please don’t tell Angelina about me. She won’t ask you outright.”
“Def.” It wouldn’t work if Kaya was filled with desire and Trevor was supposed to ignore her. It was difficult enough that one time. But if Kaya didn’t want Angelina to know, Trevor could hardly alternate from one to the other. Commune with Kaya in one language and Angelina in another. Kaya picked up another little stone on the trail. Trevor suggested coffee in the main room. “The three of us can spread out and read the newspaper.”
“Thank you, Trevor. Let me tell Angelina about our new routine.”
The next morning, running with Brian, Trevor admitted he had too many girlfriends. The way people chased him, he didn’t want sex with just any girl, unique or not, no matter how pretty. At his Awake gigs, he pulled a vanishing act before the last drum beat; otherwise every girl wanted sex.
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