But the most poignant advice had come from the year before when he had flown to New York with a trustee for a two day meeting. He hadn’t liked the idea of the trip because he had thought the trustee to be a weird duck, an electronics inventor who had dealt for years with the Defense Department and owned a small consulting firm which served as a think tank. The trustee turned out to be shrewd and elliptic at the same time, talking in riddles like the guys in Diana’s so-called wisdom books in Zen. Though their plane seats were first class, Vergil, the trustee, drew from a rucksack a lunch bucket and a bottle of white wine, a chunk of game paté he had made out of duck and woodcock, some coarse bread, and a small jar of sour French pickles called cornichons. He made Warlock compare the airplane fodder to this food. Vergil was slender and wiry, an unlikely gourmet. “You have to eat at least twice a day all your life. I never under any condition settle for swill. Eating well is my magic potion for my morale, brain and pecker.” He patted his lap as he explained this to Warlock (Johnny Lundgren then). Vergil interviewed him on his diet and recommended he eschew quantity in favor of quality. They were interrupted for a half hour while the old goat flirted with the stewardesses. When they entered the La Guardia landing pattern Vergil suddenly turned grave.

“I’ve been watching you for two years, son. At first I thought you had a certain flair, that you were different from these barking nitwits the world calls businessmen.” Vergil gestured at the entire contents of the big plane, and it did seem that everyone yipped and barked. He fell silent then, closing his eyes.

“And I’m not?” Warlock asked.

“You might be someday but you need a trial by fire, a momentous event that will shake the loose shit out of your brain. You don’t live in the actual world. You live in a far inferior world where you dissipate all your energies making the world conform to your wishes. You spend all your time in yearning, in rehearsals, in forming tepid, unwarranted opinions. I know I’m right. I was like you once….”

“What did you do?” Warlock interrupted.

“You might find out. It’s a little different for everyone it happens to.”