After that first helicopter ride, Ruffing arranged for funds to purchase and rehabilitate the property. The agreement was that Ruffing owned the land and the buildings. A second company would be formed, The Haven, and it would be a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt nonprofit. Liam and Noah would be directors and collect small salaries. The Haven itself would not pay any income tax as long as it complied with the rules governing 501(c)(3) nonprofits. Any money they took in would have to be used for their charitable work. Despite the difficulty of obtaining 501(c)(3) tax-exempt status for a quasi-religious institution after the debacle with the Church of Scientology, which had resulted in a payment of $12.5 million to settle a tax debt estimated to be around $1 billion, Ruffing’s top-notch lawyers and accountants succeeded in making The Haven tax-exempt.
On paper, everything seemed to be honest and aboveboard with one exception: the transfer of funds. All financial transactions were in cash. Everything. Every single one, from the purchase of the land to the costs of construction, land rejuvenation, supplies, and interior furnishings. Everything. All cash.
Liam was a bit nervous about that aspect of the funding, but Noah was not concerned in the least. He was perfectly happy to hand out hundred-dollar bills to workers and suppliers. They, too, were happy to get the money in an untraceable form. It was a win-win for all concerned.
Noah kept meticulous records, though. He didn’t want anyone questioning anything, particularly when dealing in cash. The initial investment by Ruffing was well over $500,000—a far cry from the original $135,000 to acquire the property. But Ruffing seemed unconcerned. He wanted The Haven to be nice enough to attract certain people but not luxurious enough to attract too much attention. Keeping a low profile was an essential part of his agenda. It was required to appeal to the unsuspecting chumps who would live and work at The Haven, including Liam and Noah, not to mention the saps who joined the organization seeking spiritual enlightenment, “fellowship,” as Liam preferred to call it.
At present, The Haven had forty residents. There was a dormitory for women and one for men. Even husbands and wives had to sleep in separate quarters. Not that The Haven often had many married couples.
While outsiders looking in might consider The Haven a cult, Liam and Noah would vehemently disagree with anyone who made the accusation or even raised it as a possibility.
Nonetheless, all things considered, it certainly looked like one. Liam’s initial vision of the community’s organization was a bit hazy. To be sure, the program was intended to be stringent and disciplined, with a hierarchical structure. But it was Ruffing who suggested a particular type of discipline—very strongly suggested. The clear implication was that the money train would stop at the next station if Liam didn’t organize The Haven the way Ruffing wanted it organized.
And so the community imposed something like a caste system on its members, segregating people from each other. Then there was the secrecy part. All contact with the rest of the world was prohibited; no one was allowed to speak to any outsiders unless they were on a recruitment mission or selling goods at the farmers’ market. And even then, their conversations never strayed from the carefully selected language provided them by the Luminaries.
The Haven had different levels of programs. Each program was assigned a monetary value. The initial entry of ten thousand dollars was, of course, out of range for almost everyone there. The Haven took whatever cash they had, collected all their personal possessions, gave it a dollar value, then applied it against the entry fee. Whatever balance was left, the new members would have to work off by adding activities and chores to their daily programs of spiritual advancement.
As one progressed through the program, one would move on to the next level, which also had a monetary value—twenty thousand dollars. Of course, no one ever earned more money than they owed. So once they had paid off their debt, leaving them with no money and no possessions, they had no choice but to sign up for the next level, going into debt for another twenty thousand dollars. Where else could they go? For that twenty thousand dollars, they got a roof over their heads, three meals a day, and some personal development mumbo jumbo. What that meant was that The Haven obtained free labor in exchange for the various levels of “spiritual enlightenment” or “fellowship.” One could only wonder what the Dalai Lama’s opinion of The Haven’s spiritual program would be. Or what the IRS would say if it knew exactly what was going on at The Haven, which resembled the goings-on at old-time company towns dotting the landscape of West Virginia coal country in the early part of the twentieth century.
Everyone dressed alike. They used similar jargon, as if they had been brainwashed. But all of them seemed to have a sense of bliss. Maybe it was because they had food and housing in a decent environment. Or maybe there was something in the food or water. Who knows. It was only very rarely that someone like Gabby Richardson would decide to enter into the life of The Haven. And if you had asked her about joining this sort of cult looking for spiritual enlightenment five years earlier, she would have vigorously denied that she would ever do so and would have probably said that places like The Haven should be illegal.
Just as with most of the followers, it was Liam who attracted her to the retreat. She had the assets to make the initial payment of ten thousand dollars in full and a money market fund with over one hundred thousand dollars that she could tap into if she wanted to continue after she completed the first course. Since she was able to pay the initial fee, The Haven did not require that she turn over any other assets or add chores to her daily routine. But she did have to turn in her cell phone, tablet, and all other electronic equipment. No influence from the outside. One needed to look inside.
The setup wasn’t exactly what Liam had in mind, but he went along because he believed that he was doing good for the people who joined. If he wanted to continue to grow his community of spiritual wellness, then he had to play by Ruffing’s rules. But at least Liam could control the message.
*
At The Haven, everyone was provided similar clothing to wear: yoga-style white pants, white shirts, and sandals. The ensemble was called vastra, a word that meant “clothing” in Sanskrit. The clear intention of using a Sanskrit word was to create the impression that the teachings were similarly part of a tradition that the Western world associated with spiritual advancement. The only thing that distinguished the members of the community in regard to the level of “advancement” was the color of the scarves, or stoles, they wore.
The Tyros were newbies and wore green to indicate they were “green” to the organization. After six months of following the program, one would advance to being a Pledge. Pledges wore blue for loyalty. Depending on how hard they worked, which usually correlated with how much money they earned for the cause, it could take up to five years before a Pledge could advance to the next level and become a Luminary. Most managed to do it in under two years. The Luminaries wore purple, the color of royalty. When Noah was on the premises, his was stole silver. Liam’s was gold. Both were handmade by the Pledges, interwoven with metallic threads.