High Energy, Joy, Dara [books to read this summer .txt] 📗

for different folks. I'm sure many people couldn't bear this

type of isolated work and living environment. Some people thrive on the

excitement of rubbing up against the mass of humanity on a daily basis. Just

look at New York City."

"No, you look at it," LaLeche quipped.

Tyber smiled in spite of himself. "People do choose to live there—strange as it

may seem to you or me. Sometimes even I enjoy an occasional foray into the Big

Apple. The theater, restaurants, shopping, nightlife…"

"Yes, there is something to say for the culture and choices available there."

The man was smooth, Tyber gave him that. He knew just how to oil a conversation

so no offense could possibly be taken, no real opinion given.

"This has all got me thinking…." LaLeche rubbed his chin, trying to convey the

impression of a man on the verge of a great idea. Tyber waited patiently; he was

positive he would soon find out where LaLeche was going with this "fresh" idea

of his which had probably been bubbling around in the man's head for ages.

"What's that?" Tyber played along.

"What you're saying is very true—even if people do live in the city, they need

to get away on occasion to untangle the spirit, to renew their sense of

perspective."

I said that? I must've stepped out of this dimension for a minute and missed my

brilliant observation. Silly me. Tyber gave himself a mental shake of the head.

LaLeche enthusiastically continued on his preordained pathway. He vaguely

reminded Tyber of Venus in retrograde.

"I've often thought how very wonderful it would be to have a retreat like this

for people to come to when they feel a need to seek inner harmony."

Tyber stopped walking. LaLeche was looking to fleece his sheep in better

surroundings. He better not be coveting his surroundings. He turned to the

shorter man, hands on hips. "Are you saying you want me to open my home to

your—"

"Oh, heavens no, Tyber! I would never suggest invading your personal space in

such a manner."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"Look around you, Dr. Evans." His arm swung in an arc indicating the gently

rolling landscape. "Think about what such an environment would do to open minds,

enlighten beings!"

He wanted money. Lots of it, if Tyber was on to his little game plan. Tyber

rocked back on his boot heels, quelling the distaste he had for this charlatan.

"You're talking about a retreat?"

"More than just a retreat! A center for personal growth and study! A research

facility for psychic endeavors! A place for spiritual peace and harmony for

everyone."

A place where workshops for the individual ran into the hundreds of dollars. A

place where LaLeche could sell videos and tapes of himself being wonderful. A

big business New Age kinda happening sort of thing. Tyber got the picture.

"I don't know, Xavier, won't that be kind of expensive?"

"Think of it as an investment, Tyber."

Here we go. "An investment? What do you mean?"

"If you would like to get in on the ground floor of this, I can pretty much

guarantee you a fine return on your money."

"Are you saying you'd profit from this, Xavier?" Tyber couldn't help throwing

that in.

"Everyone would profit from it in all ways, spiritually and monetarily. There's

absolutely nothing wrong with making money, Tyber. It's one of the very topics I

plan to have a seminar on."

For fifty-nine ninety-five. "How do you incorporate a… zest for making money

into spiritual practices? Aren't the two mutually exclusive?"

LaLeche sighed deeply, shaking his head sadly as if to convey that such a wise

teacher as he often had to deal with the ignorance of his pupils. It irritated

Tyber no end. "Unfortunately, a widely held misconception. Negative attitudes

regarding success run deep. It is this type of unhealthy conviction toward

abundance in our personal lives which needs to be healed."

"Healed? How can the attitude of money being an end to a goal be healed?"

"Think of money as you would sunshine." LaLeche seemed extremely proud of this

idiotic comparison.

Tyber's voice was bland. "How so?"

"Sunshine brings light into our lives; its rays shed warmth and enlightenment on

us. It brings us happiness; it brings us life. By the same token, sunshine is

also responsible for drought, sunburn, unbearable heat, burnt crops."

"I don't know that I follow your train of thought." Especially since the tracks

of those thoughts are following a Mobius strip of convoluted logic.

"I'm saying that the effects of sunshine can be good for us or bad for us,

depending on how careful we are in our relationship to it. You see, the sunshine

is neither good nor evil in and of itself. It is simply an energy. Money, a

materialization of energy, is the same way—it can be good for us or not good for

us, depending on how we choose to utilize it."

Tyber stared back at him, dumbstruck. The man had just whipped together a

seemingly palatable omelet from chalk and cheese.

The fact of the matter was that sunshine had nothing whatsoever to do with

money. One was radiant energy, the other a medium of exchange. With carefully

chosen words, tangled mystical principles, and a dash of spiritual superiority,

the man had made a sweeping conclusion.

And why not, Tyber asked himself facetiously; after all, nature abhors a vacuum.

Would some people actually buy this ridiculous analogy under the guise of

self-fulfilling enlightenment?

Yes. Definitely.

"I hadn't thought of it in those terms before. I can see what you're saying now.

So tell me, Xavier, how much of an investment would we be talking about here?"

"Not much, considering the size of the project. We'll need some raw acreage, of

course. Although it would be nice to find a site that already has a suitable

building, I don't think that will occur. After all, we have certain special

needs for the buildings. A dormitory. A cafeteria. Grounds…"

Uh-huh. LaLecheville. "So what were you thinking?"

"I figure if I could get together two more investors, each of us would have to

throw in about three hundred grand."

Tyber tried not to cough. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Three hundred, huh?"

"If it's too steep for you—"

"No. Of course not, but just what kind of a return can I expect on my money?"

"How does five hundred percent sound?" LaLeche's mouth wiggled with a smirky

grin.

"Sounds like you might have an investor." Tyber returned his smirk