Noah was doing well financially. This pattern continued for a couple of years. He had gained more respect from his coworkers and was well liked by Ruffing’s clients, which was evident by the large tips he would receive for simply tying up one of their boats. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from a foreign country to tip him two hundred dollars to tie a simple cleat knot.
It also helped that Ruffing had begun to give Noah some extra side work, for which he paid Noah, under the table, in cash. He felt he had achieved a lifestyle more to his liking than continuing to toil in academia.
In addition to selling yachts, renting slips, and running a robust bar and dining dock, Ruffing’s marina provided an offshore supply service to day-boat fishing charters. With the ability to have goods delivered while out on the water, charter boats could offer bigger packages to their customers. The boats would take people out for big-game fishing, often spending one or two nights on the water. With the speed of the cigarette boat topping out at eighty knots, and with GPS, it was easy to arrange deliveries. Noah would be given the coordinates, then pack the high-speed craft with insulated boxes. Presumably, the boxes contained supplies, but Noah never packed them himself. Nor did he ever witness their being filled. The boxes were labeled and set on the dock, and he would put them on the boat and head out. When he arrived at the fishing boats, the boat captains would give him a banker’s bag, seemingly filled with cash. Day-boat fishing was largely a cash business, so there was no reason for Noah to suspect anything was amiss. This pattern continued for a couple of years, and Noah was making good money. Very good money.
Noah continued to work for Ruffing while Liam pursued his doctorate in the area of cultural psychology. It was the study of how a set of ideas, behavior, and attitudes are formed in a group of people such as a family, and how that gets handed down from one generation to another. Liam was hopeful he would have some insight as to why his family was so messed up and hoped he could avoid the pitfalls in his own life.
After he completed the program, Liam applied for a grant to visit several countries and do research on the psychology of groups. He spent two years traveling to Tibet, India, and Peru, while Noah was banking the money he was earning with Ruffing.
When Liam returned to the States, he obtained a position as an adjunct in the psychology department at the University of Miami. Teaching wasn’t his passion, but it provided his half of the rent and gas for the Jeep Grand Cherokee he had gotten as a high-school-graduation present. Noah had traded his for a newer, more expensive car. A Range Rover Sport. Liam often wondered exactly how much Ruffing was paying Noah, but he never dared to ask. But something didn’t feel quite right.
Most of Liam’s old classmates in the doctoral program had gotten jobs with organizations that needed people to help them deal with the issues that arose from the increased presence of minorities, many of whom came from different cultures, in the workplace. Their doctoral program had focused on groups of people and cultural influences. Many were consulting with government agencies. Liam, on the other hand, was searching for spiritual significance in the cultural aspects of psychology.
Noah’s take on all of what Liam found fascinating was that it was a crashing bore. He enjoyed the lifestyle that his income and rugged good looks afforded him access to, not staring at his navel contemplating the cultural divide.
Noah was always out late at night, and his friends were not always upstanding citizens. “Fast and loose” would be a good description. Liam needed to find his own group of like-minded people, even if he had to search beyond the walls of the university.
There were a number of health-food stores that attracted the “New Age” types and open-air markets that attracted a lot of drifters, people looking for free food. Liam would frequent these magnets for holdover hippies and lost souls, and began attending drum circles and several moon-worship festivals.
Still, it wasn’t quite what Liam had in mind. When he had the opportunity, and there were plenty, he would converse with these (almost) kindred spirits. He discovered that many of them were simply lost in society. They had been drug abusers, alcoholics, prostitutes, and runaways. Many lived in shelters. Many of them were spiritually wounded. These were the people he wanted to connect with. Damaged souls in need of spiritual healing.
He found a park on the outskirts of the city limits. It was a remote area beyond the urban sprawl of Miami, at the edge of the Everglades. A perfect location. There they could meditate and chant without disturbing anyone or being mocked or hassled. Liam would read passages from Eckhart Tolle and Lao Tzu. Inspiring words like “eliminate everything that doesn’t bring you joy” were part of the ritual. At one point, Liam was writing his own verses of encouragement.
Within weeks, his handful of low and powerless grew to over two dozen. Three months later, forty to fifty people would show up for his weekly sessions.
It was apparent that though they lived under the same roof, Liam and Noah were leading very different lives. They rarely spent any social time together, and when Liam would return to the apartment after one of his gatherings, Noah would tease him with, “So how was howling at the moon tonight?”
Since their childhood, Liam and Noah had been simpatico, as most twins would be, but the wreckage created by their father’s financial crimes had changed both of them. In less than a decade, they had drifted apart in their approach to life.
*
The group of followers continued to grow, and Liam realized he needed something other than a mangrove swamp in which to hold his meetings. One afternoon, as he was scoping out a spot where the group could meet, he noticed a dilapidated building with overgrown foliage and a FOR SALE sign. The place needed a lot of work. But maybe he could get his group to pitch in. He jotted down the number of the real-estate agent.
*
“Only one hundred thirty-five thousand dollars?” Noah was dubious. “Where do you think we’ll get that kind of money? The place is a disaster and needs thousands of dollars’ worth of work. More like tens of thousands,” Noah said, questioning Liam’s idea of buying the old farm.
“Listen. Some of the people who come to my meetings are willing to help get it in shape.” Liam had already anticipated his brother’s resistance.
“And how are you going to pay them? And pay for the supplies?” Noah was dismissing the notion from the outset.
“They are willing to do it for free in exchange for housing.”
“What are you talking about?” Noah’s voice was louder than usual. Has Liam completely lost his mind?
Liam closed his eyes and took in a deep inhale. “Noah, these people I’ve met, well, they’re just a little lost.”
Noah immediately interrupted. “Oh great. A lost and found?”
“Noah, please. Hear me out.” Liam was calm but determined. “The place is big enough to house a dozen people, maybe more if we can rebuild.”