"I and my sweetheart are fated to part," sang the ferryman on the wooden horse-headed ferryboat crossing the Tsang-po River. Tsangyang Gyatso sang a new song within his skull, which only i heard. "Even the wooden horse, thought without feeling, looks back, but my love, without feeling, does not even look at me."

* * *

CLICK. CLICK. The wheel.

* * *

"If the Presence is not taking the vows," fumed the Panchen Lama as politely as he could, "why has the Presence come this far to Tashilhunpo Gompa?" Tsangyang Gyatso sniffed and glanced at a thangka of the Buddha Amitayus, of whom the old lama was understood to be an incarnation. He spoke to it. "We thought it more polite to tell you face to face, rather than in a letter."

* * *

At night, at Shigatze, while everyone slept, I left the body of the Dalai Lama. Carefully, I searched the Nd-Drwa, but finding no signs of the presence of others, I raced off in a westerly direction. I did not know where I was going, but soon discovered my destination without the least bit of effort; Mt. Kailash, Mt. Rirab, the center of the universe. Circling around it, high above it, I seemed to be caught in the moonlight of the full moon. I seemed to be pulled by a magnetism which I could not resist. I was being sucked down towards the mountain! Helplessly, I fell.

* * *

She. Mountain. Word.

* * *

Wheel. Round. Circle.

"Carmella! The fire! The children!"

"The threefold Buddha," said Dai Goro Bogdu.

"Damn you!" I said. "Damn you!"

* * *

"Long accustomed to keeping my mind in the uncreated," came the words of Milarepa's song to me, as I fell towards the mountain. The tune suddenly changed to "Words written in ink, water can erase," and I suddenly stopped falling. I hovered gently over the mountain in complete charge of my own motions. I looked down upon the white pyramid with the great lightning crack through its center. There was a sense of longing and sadness, an attraction of immense pull. "Home," I said to myself while looking, and then, shaking myself, I spun and flew back to Tashilunpo Gompa and the sleeping body of the sixth Dalai Lama.

* * *

There was no news of a Mongol army in Lhasa. I could not understand it. Tsangyang Gyatso was twenty years of age. What had gone wrong? Did Ayesha make a mistake? Were her history sources faulty? I puzzled over it. Then a thought occurred to me. Could history have changed instead? Had my presence here in ancient Tibet changed history? If so, how much? Would there be fore and more significant changes the longer I stayed? Would it even change the twentieth century and my existence there? Even before I came here? My head hurt. I did not wish to think about it.

* * *

UH. UH. HUM. Mumble mumble.

Hands quivering. Feet shaking.

"Susan!" I cried out, "Pema!"

* * *

Returning to Lhasa, we found it full of intrigue but peaceful otherwise. The Chinese amban was no happier than usual, and Tsangyang Gyatso becoming a layman completely did not add to his joy. But surprisingly, the Tibetans did not seem to care that their beloved "Melodious one" was not a monk. He, thus, was more like them.

There were no signs of Thubten Sengey or Dai Goro Bogdu.

* * *

ERIN-NOON-SHIM-TAL.

* * *

Joining us in our nightly trips to the chang houses was a drinking companion we had met much earlier, Lobsang Wangdu. He and his servant joined us and the three of us went everywhere together. There were no secrets between us except for the fact of my existence in the body of the Presence. Although to these two, the identity of their companion was known, the name which we used (the Presence and I) in the villages was Je Bo Tangsang Wangbo. I doubt if there was anyone who did not know our true identity. Certainly, the hot chang girls thought that their merit would accumulate by absorbing what they could, by whatever aperture, from our body.

* * *

Ayesha? Yes. Pardon me, but what is it? I'm very busy. No, you wouldn't believe it. Your mother? She's going to be put in a nursing home? Oh, too bad. Sorry to hear that. You'll have to sell her house? Yes. Yeah. I know, to pay the bills. But you have no place to put my body? Wait a minute, what do you mean? How about giving it to a museum? Wait! Ayesha! Listen to me!

* * *

Ring. Ring. Ring. Answer the damn phone!

* * *

Busy signal. Who can she be talking to, all this time? Or is the phone merely off the hook, while she, while he...?





* * *

"Hey!" went our love song. "Demons and snake deities loom powerfully behind me, the sweet apricot hangs before me, fearing, and not fearing; is not. I shall pluck it!"

* * *

"The secrets of the tantra," Tibetans said, "are in his songs. Do you not see that?"

* * *

Yes. Yeah. Sure.

The window was lit and she was visible, speaking on the telephone. Branches moved back and forth, alternatively obscuring the view.

* * *

You remember? Behind the Potala Palace was the lake surrounded by gnarled twisted trees. it was called the Naga King's Lake. Naga gets poorly translated as serpent, but you get the idea. That is where we decided to build a beautiful little building on a small island. A connecting bridge brought us there, to the house of Naga Lu Khang. Afterwards we did not have to go so far afield to meet Pema. It was a beautiful place to be, with words and without words.

* * *

Rising up the spine, reaching one wheel after another. Spin, and circle around.





* * *

"It is Lobsang Wangdu's doing," said the regent. "If he were gone, Je Bo would wander to the taverns no longer." The assassin did not argue with the powerful man. "Be sure to get the right man!" the regent snapped. "One thrust of the knife should do it!" "Yes, yes," the other said, and nodded. I nodded as well, for I had been in the Nd-Drwa and overheard it all. By the time I reached Je Bo and Lobsang at Sho chang house, they were well into their cups singing, "King of hell, your mirror shows all, good and evil, no fair justice is found on this side, give me some, when I cross over!" I tried to convince Lobsang through the drunken Je Bo of impending danger. It was not easy through a half-understanding drunken mouth to a drunken ear. They sang and staggered back towards the Potala and the awaiting assassin.

* * *

The knife went clattering in the prison courtyard.

* * *

"Coo," said Pema. "Coo." She giggled and asked,, "Why do I do that?" "Why do you ask? You have mated with me," you said, "Am I not the cuckoo from Mon?"

* * *

Lobsang spoke to his servant and fell back while I walked ahead. Once in the body of the Presence, I was equally inebriated, although I had not been there during the drinking itself.

I called back, "Lobsang, come along! I cannot even see you in the dark!" His figure loomed close and bumped into me. "Oh, oh," I said, "'It is quite dark! Help me up the stairs." And he did so, his servant too far off to help. It was just then that that assassin struck. I felt a knife cut through my sleeve, with the flat part of it run along my arm, without cutting me. However, it plunged deeply into my companion. I heard it strike bone. I heard him gasp and fall. Suddenly I came to my senses, shaking off the chang-induced haze.

"Assassin!" I shouted, and without thinking, let a ball of fire roll down my arm and out my fingertips. It revealed for a split second the face of both murderer and victim alike. The former was in horror as the flames hit him. The latter was already dead, blood coming from his mouth. I was shocked into soberness, for it was not Lobsang who had been stabbed but his servant. "Ho ho!" I heard him staggering up to us, glancing down at the two bodies in the light of the burning clothes of the assassin. "Lucky," he hiccupped," for me, that I changed, " he steadied himself, "clothes with my servant. Lucky, indeed!"

* * *

Lobsang, when sober, remembered how the assassin had died, and no longer went to the chang house with me.

* * *

Being a visitor in the Presence's body did not disturb me in that I was sharing it. Wile he did scriptural writing or prayers in the Potala, I did not mind being partially passive. I merely watched. But when he became Je Bo and was caressing a beautiful Tibetan, I was chagrined not to have complete control of the body. I told him as much. He understood and suggested that I have a turn, so to speak.

"But that cannot be done," I said, "unless you let go." "Let go of what?" he asked. "Hmmm," I answered, "I am not sure. You see, you are holding fast mentally to something which prevents my taking hold." "Sorry about that," he said, sounding like me. "I'd like to help, but you'll just have to keep on watching." And watch I did as he drank and made love. Oh, it wasn't all that abstract. I felt things, but I did not move them or cause them. I watched very intently, nonetheless. And listened.

* * *

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Circles of lights. AH!

AH! Whisper. Whisper.

* * *

"AH!" she said. "AH. AH. AH!" There was very heavy breathing. There was almost satisfaction everywhere. Je Bo asked me, "How was it for you?" "Not bad," I murmured. "What do you mean?" his mind exclaimed. "I thought that it was terrific!" If I had had a lip I would have bitten it. As it was, I said, "I told you it was not bad. That's all!" He said nothing.

* * *

"The regent," growled the Chinese amban, "is aiding a rival of the Manchus by cultivating friendship with the Mongols. The emperor must be informed of this threat to the empire!"



* * *

"Lhazang Khan is too powerful," mused the regent. "I must poison him!"

* * *

The Presence was taught how to travel in the Nd-Drwa. This had a double benefit. On the one hand, I could travel to Sho alone in the body, and experience life directly. On the other hand, he could roam everywhere and see more of his country than he could on horse or foot. "This is wonderful!" he said. I also said, "This is wonderful!"

* * *

"You attempted to kill him once," protested Jamyang Sherpa of Drepung Gomang College. "Now you try again! We approve it! You must remember the kindness of the Gushri Khan, his grandfather, in helping Tibet consolidate."

* * *

"It is wonderful!" said the Presence, returning for a moment to the body. "Kailash is imposing! I will now go to visit Mongolia!" And he left me to use the body as I pleased.

* * *

The tutor did not seem to notice any difference in my behavior, he was too busy with his teaching of the Heart Sutra.

'GA-TE, GA-TE, PARA GA-TE, PARA SAM GA-TE, BODHI, SVA HA!" he repeated at the end of the sutra which stated that everything was sunyata, emptiness. "Form is emptiness," he had recited earlier, "emptiness is form," puzzling me completely. The main mantra "GA-TE, GA-TE," etc. was not clearer in translation; "Gone, Gone, Completely Gone, Completely Gone Beyond, Enlightenment, Exhalation, HA!" "What does it mean?" I had asked, and realized that it was a stupid question, for he popped his eyes at me in surprise. Instead of saying something to me about my inattention, he referred back to the sutra, quoting it again, "Ignorance is not, extinction of ignorance is not," and so forth, as well as, "suffering, origin, cessation, path are not." My mind was reeling. "Gone, Gone, completely gone, completely gone beyond,' enlightenment, exhalation, HA!" he repeated, again and again.

* * *

Everyone in the tavern saw Pema's smile. However, she expressed her love to me from the corner of her eyes. It was also expressed in other ways, her lips running down my body in the privacy of the house of the naga on the island in back of the Potala. "Ah!" she gasped. "Ah!" I responded.

* * *

"The smiling face of the moon," sang the herdsman, "the smiling face of my beloved."

* * *

"In Alak-Shya," the Presence said to me, "In the far north of Mongolia, they need religion. I must go there again some day." I nodded, in his body.

* * *

"The written word can be erased with drops of water," I sang to Pema.

* * *

"A seal of documents," sang the harvester, threshing the barley, "can utter no words in witness. Better to seal one's heart with the seal of justice and truth."

* * *

All night long, the fragments of the song bounced from the walls of the house of the naga. "Snow pure water," it rang, 'the dew drops rare," it sang, "essence of ambrosia," it said, "made into wine, incarnated as a wine-maiden," it continued, "rescues drinkers from lower realms," it was ringing, "if this wine is drunk," it was singing, "with right attitude of mind." ""Ah," said Pema. "Ah," I said.

* * *

The Presence returned from his travels in the Nd-Drwa. "Lhazang Khan is returning to Lhasa with his army despite the instructions of the Lhamo Oracle telling him to go to Kokonor. We are soon to be attacked!

* * *

"We will meet them at the Go pass! Defend Lhasa!"

* * *

"I was on my journey to retirement at Gongkar Dzong," said the regent to Lhazang's wife, who had led one column of Mongols to storm Lhasa from the west. "Indeed," she, Gyalmo Tsering Tashi, said, "with your armies defeated, what else could you do? But it shall not be so." She had him beheaded near Kyomulung Gompa. "Now we must deal with the Presence himself and depose him!"



* * *

"Things are getting shaky here," I said to Je Bo. "Do not worry," he said, "he cannot fail to notice the love and devotion my people have for me." "I hope so," I said. "You shall see," he said.

* * *

"Your rich gifts were not necessary," said the Panchen Rinpoche to Gyalmo Tsering Tashi, who replied, "Lhazang Khan, who now administrates all of Lhasa, felt to show his appreciation of your good will." "Damn," I thought, "he's trying to buy them all out. First he gave large estates to the monasteries of Lhasa, now this!"

* * *

"The Emperor K'ang Hsi is only too happy to give you his pure blessings and use of his forces to depose this vile insult to Buddha," smiled the Chinese amban.

* * *

"No," said the leading monastic officials through the voice of Tri Rinpoche Dondrup Gyatso. "His Holiness cannot be taken away from his people and taken to China." Lhazang was furious at this lack of support for the Chinese Emperor's plan. "He's coming for you!" I told Je Bo. "Let him come!"

* * *

Circle. Circle. Around Mt. Rirab.

* * *

At Lhalu, near Lhasa, where we were being held, the amban came to declare to us that Tsangyang Gyatso was deposed officially by Khazang Khan and that he, the false reincarnation of Chen-re-zi, had to go to China at the emperor's summons. Angry crowds of Tibetans were attacking Mongol troops bare-handed to save the Presence. "We are rescued," he gasped. "And so we are! Where are we going?" I asked. "To Drepung Gompa for shelter!" he laughed in relief.

* * *

Drip. Drip. Drip.

* * *

"Whosoever," declared the Netchung Oracle, concerning Tsangyang Gyatso as the true reincarnation, "whosoever would deny it, is beset with devilish delusions!" But outside the walls, in reaction to the Tibetans' behavior, crack troops and artillery were being put into place.

* * *

Down the highway, faster and faster.

Was that a blue man by the road?

* * *

"You'll be slaughtered!" we shouted at the monks. "You do not have a chance." "But your Holiness," began Ganden Tri Rinpoche, "you cannot..."

At this, since Je Bo was choked with emotion, I said. "Reverend Sir, I, alone, can make this decision." And I placed my hands upon his head in blessing. Others nearby came for blessings. I was surprised to see that Pema was there. She had been one of the crowd fighting the Mongols barehanded! I started to sing a song. "In this short life, so much have I said," while people came forward to be touched, "shall we not in our next lives," she came forward, her eyes upon mine, "come together," I said, touching her cheeks, one palm to either side of her face, "in years of our early childhood?" Then she was lost in the crowd. Before we left Drepung Gompa, Je Bo sang his last song. "I fly with the wings of a white crane to Litang, from whence I shall return." Everyone was in tears, recognizing the words as instructions for his people to look in Litang for his rebirth. We turned to leave Drepung, but were not alone. A few friends, led by Lobsang Wangdu, left with us. Everything was not as peaceful as hoped. The Mongols rushed forward in a hostile waving of swords. Fighting began and ended very quickly. it was horrible. Lobsang Wangdu and the others fought bravely but were cut down. To my horror, I saw that Pema was with him, and saw her fall. I let a few balls of fire ride off my arms, killing some Mongols, but when I found myself standing alone amidst a pile of corpses, I stopped. "What's the use?" I asked. "They are all dead!"

* * *

KARMA-LA! KARMA-LA! The fire!

* * *

One of my captors, whose name I had never learned, spoke to me on the journey to China. "Drepung paid for its support of you!" he spat. "Sacked and looted! Ha Ha!" "AH!" I heard the Presence cry within our skull, "AH!" It affected him deeply.

* * *

You understand what is happening? Gone. Gone. Completely gone. Completely gone beyond. Enlightenment. Exhalation, HA!

* * *

Please pay attention. Watch and listen. Do not allow one slip.

* * *

"I heard them," I told him, returning to our body, "at Gunga-nor, they plan to kill you." He merely smiled. "That is south of Kokonor. And correction," he said, "they plan to kill us." That did not make me feel any better.

* * *

Wheel. Round. Circle.

The constellation of Orion!

* * *

"The assassin is here!" I cried to him. "What shall we do?" "Do as I do," he laughed, and as the man entered the room with dagger in hand, he stared directly into the man's eyes and said, "AUM MANI PADME HUM! " The Jewel is in the Lotus." With that, he left the body for the Nd-Drwa, calling, "Quickly! Follow me or all is lost!"

I did so, and the form of Je Bo fell lifeless to the ground. "He is dead!" the man gasped, feeling for a pulse. And in relief he said, "at least I did not have to do it!"

The Manchu Colonel Hsi-Chu came in at his call, and examined the body for himself. he smiled. "It seems that he has saved us the trouble." "But how did he die?" asked the assassin. "He merely stood there, said a prayer and fell dead." "It does not matter," sneered the Colonel. "These Tibetans have all sorts of tricks, a death yoga, I presume. Or perhaps, his heart could not manage the fear. But he is gone, nonetheless. We can say it was illness." And he laughed, "and look! Not a knife wound to arouse suspicions!"

The Presence and I, in the Nd-Drwa, nodded in agreement. "Hes," Hsi-Chu believes that we ar dead. Good." We waited a while before our next move. The shrewd Chinese brought some lamas from a nearby temple to see the body. "Inspect it," he instructed the abbot. "You will see no violent marks. You will see no signs of poison."

"Yes, yes," the monks was soon saying, "it seems to be all from natural causes, but which ones I do not know." "Illness," snapped Hsi-chu. "Yes, of course," the monks said, nodding and looking at his novices, indicating, without words, that they should nod also. Soon they were all nodding. Nodding. Nodding.

* * *

They had not bothered to guard the dead body. Thus, the Presence and I, upon once again entering it, made an easy escape. We stole two horses, although we only had one rider to use them, for purposes of speed. While one was ridden, the other could travel without a burden. Alternating between them, they performed for us especially well. Early in the escape we had passed near the temple of the visiting lamas. I am sure that one of them recognized us, but was just as sure that he never told the Chinese. Thus we rode far to the Northeast.

* * *

In Mongolia, the Presence and I parted ways. "I wish to go to Alak-shya, in the North," he told me, "perhaps to introduce the Great Prayer Festival of Lhasa to the people there." "That is fine," I said to him, "but I think I will return to the vicinity of Mt. Kailash. It seems to pull upon me. I must go." "Goodbye my friend," he said. "We shall not meet again in this lifetime." I wondered if we would ever meet again, but said nothing. Leaving his body, now completely his again, made me feel a bit sad. I zoomed upwards, looking back to see him waving at the sky, even though he could not see me. I turned towards the southwest, towards Mt. Kailash.