Bob walked up the concrete staircase, a “stoop” to New Yorkers. “Some fucking place for a citadel”, he thought, while glancing up at the brick facade of the old townhouse. He felt lucky he hadn’t gotten mugged while getting out of his car.

Things were going pretty well for Bob and Alice. Bob had a job as a software engineer at a major defense contractor, while Alice had her hands full just caring for the twins. Once they were old enough to go to school, Alice planned to resume her career as a high school english teacher. They were grateful for what they had, which was more than most. Still, with the cost of everything going up, it wasn’t easy trying to save for the future. Luckily for them, the value of their house had gone up too, so they had some equity built up. The house was small, but it was in a great neighborhood. Ty and Cam had to share a bedroom, but they were inseparable anyway.

To supplement his salary, Bob had been messing around buying stocks and crypto since the pandemic. He got most of his ideas from his friend Jim, who showed him how to set up and use a Robinhood account. Jim had always been good with money and investments. Ten years ago he had sold his software company to Cisco and retired early. Lately, though, Jim had been doing some crazy stuff. He used to preach diversification in investing. Things had changed. He recently sold all of his stocks, bonds, and “shitcoins”, as he called them, and bought bitcoin. He even sold two rental houses he owned and bought bitcoin with the sale proceeds. Jim’s wife Mary was beside herself. She told Alice that she had to threaten divorce to stop him from selling the family home. Bob agreed to have a talk with him, so they met for lunch.

Usually they met in midtown or one of the pricey Wall Street haunts Jim loved. Jim always picked the restaurant because he paid the tab. Bob would make a half hearted move towards his wallet for show, but they both knew Jim would pay. That’s how it had always been since they got their first jobs out of college. Jim always made more money. Today’s meeting place would be different. Jim wanted to go to some dive bar in the village that was supposedly a bitcoin bar, whatever the hell that was. Bob wasn’t pleased. He would have to take the PATH train and then catch a subway to get to this place. The food was probably shitty. Still, it seemed like Jim was in real trouble. He had fallen in with what sounded like a cult, and Bob had to help with the deprogramming.

When Bob arrived Jim was already perched on a bar stool, drinking a beer. There were a few other patrons milling around, but for the most part the place was empty. Jim patted the stool next to him.

“Come. Grab a seat. Whaddaya drinking?”

Bob had to get back to work in New Jersey at some point, so he wasn’t drinking.

“Just a club soda.”

Jim spread his arms wide to take in the surroundings.

“See this? Some day it’s gonna be on the register of historic places.”

Bob looked around.

“What? This place? It’s a dump.” Jim shook his head.

“You don’t get it yet, but you will.”

Bob just wanted to eat and get back to work.

After they ordered their food, Jim called Bob over to look at some display shelves at the other end of the bar. “See that yellow sign?”

Among the other pieces of weird bitcoin memorabilia was a handwritten paper sign that said “Buy Bitcoin.” Jim was looking at it as if it was the Shroud Of Turin.

“This is the sign the Bitcoin Sign Guy held behind Janet Yellen in July of 2017 while she was testifying before Congress.”

“Bitcoin Sign Guy? Catchy name. Do people really call him that?”

“Yeah, he comes in here a lot.”

Bob thought the whole thing sounded ridiculous. He got back to the subject of their lunch.

“So, what’s up with this bitcoin obsession? You know, Mary is really upset. She thinks you’ve gone bonkers. Man, I’ve always looked to you for investment advice. You taught me everything.”

Bob leaned in closer.

“Buffet. John Bogle. Diversification. You did pretty well for yourself. And for me. You’re the reason I’m doing pretty well too. What the fuck?”

Jim smiled. “So now you don’t trust me? Who’s paying for lunch, huh?”

“No, yeah, I know. It just seems crazy. All your eggs in one basket? That’s not you.”

“Don’t worry about me. What have you been buying, huh? Tesla? Maybe some shitcoins hyped on that scammy youtube channel?”

Four years ago it was Jim who had introduced Bob to a youtuber named Vapidik Uterin, a really smart, geeky guy from eastern Europe or someplace. It was called the Crypto Emporium. CE for short.

“I wouldn’t even know about CE if it wasn’t for you! What the fuck is going on?”

Jim shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry I got you involved with that shit. It’s all a scam.”

He ordered another beer and looked at the menu as he spoke.

“I attended a sesshin,”

Bob nodded.

You’re seeing a therapist?”

“No! Not a session, a sesshin. A period of zazen.”

Bob was baffled.

“What the hell are you talking about?

“You know, a buddhist retreat. A bitcoin sesshin.”

Jim seemed serious. Bob started laughing.

“What, do they even have them? Bitcoin buddhism? Sounds ridiculous.”

“Oh, it’s not”, Jim explained. “It’s a part of the revolution.”

The bartender brought over their lunch orders. Bob bit into his chopped cheese. It was pretty damned good for a shitty bar. He was also looking forward to hearing more of this nutty story.

“You live in New Jersey. You drive an Audi. You’re a revolutionary?”

Jim took a sip of his beer. “Look, you can make fun of it all you want. I’m past all that. I just want to make the world a better place, and I’m getting rid of the Audi.”

“Bullshit! You heard about all those tech kids getting rich on bitcoin. You, of all people, want to make the world a better place?”

Bob laughed and patted him on the back. Jim wasn’t laughing.

“You should go to a sesshin yourself. It would do you some good. Stop thinking about getting rich all the time and start getting in touch with what’s really important.”

A few weeks after the lunch Bob, Alice, and the twins went to Jim and Mary’s annual Fourth Of July barbecue. They lived in a big, 1920s mansion on two acres of land in Englewood Cliffs. Jim had bought it almost twenty years ago. It was worth more than twice what he had paid. Bob and Jim stood by Jim’s big fancy barbecue grill while Alice tried to control Ty and Cam, who kept stealing the other kids’ toys. When they pulled into the driveway Bob had noticed that Jim’s Audi had been replaced by an older model Toyota. Bob was surprised.

“So you really did it? The Audi is gone?”

Jim flipped a T-bone. “Yep. I don’t need it. Actually no one needs a car like that.”

Jim couldn’t resist a little jab. “Yeah, James Hartley, a man of the people. Where did you get it?”

Jim turned towards the grill as he spoke.

“Mashinsky’s over on Main Street.”

Bob started laughing.

“You’re kidding, right? You bought a used car from that crook?”

“I’m not worried. It’s a Toyota. How bad can it be?”

Jim put some more hot dogs on the grill as he spoke.

“Let me ask you something. Do you remember Zucotti Park?”

Of course Bob remembered, but he was surprised Jim did.

“Of course. The park down by Wall Street.”

Jim waved his spatula around.

“Yeah. Tent city. You were the one bringing those people food. I made jokes. I was an asshole.”

Bob thought back to that time. The financial crisis. What a mess. He could have been ruined if it wasn’t for Jim.

“Well yeah, what’s new? But that was a long time ago. Ancient history. What does that have to do with anything?”

Jim repositioned the hot dogs on the upper grate.

“It might seem like a long time ago, but that was just the beginning. They put a band aid on a festering wound.”

Bob was puzzled.

“What? The market’s back up. Business is picking up now that covid is over.”

“Covid!

Jim snorted and started waving the spatula around again.

“Don’t get me started on covid. Just listen to me. I just want to help you. I want you to meet with Bitcoin Buddha.”

By now Alice and Mary had wandered over.

Alice chimed in.

“How do we get in touch with this Buddha guy?”

Bob made eye contact with his wife. What was this? Alice was asking about Bitcoin Buddha?

Alice looked directly at her husband.

“Mary and I have been talking a little about this bitcoin thing.”

Bob was miffed.

“You have? When were you going to tell me about it?”

Alice spoke while Mary nodded.

“Look. I can’t explain it intelligently yet. Mary just scratched the surface. I’m not saying we should change our lives, but it can’t hurt learning something new, right?”

This was not at all how Bob expected this little get together to turn out.

“So what? You all want me to attend a thing with this guy?”

Jim was done cooking and Mary moved the cooked items to the long outdoor table. He helped with the last few burgers, then turned to Bob.

“Well, it’s not that simple. You can’t just meet with him.”

Jim then explained the process before they all sat down to eat.

The following week Bob was driving to East New York. The GPS said it would take an hour and forty five minutes. He was still annoyed at Alice. She should have told him about her discussions with Mary. He felt like a fool at the barbecue, as if HE was the one who needed an intervention. Still, he was curious. He had texted this Bitcoin Buddha through an app called simpleX. It was the only way to contact the guy. From the texts, he didn’t seem much like a buddha. His “citadel”, as he referred to his home, was located in East New York. It wasn’t Bob’s idea of a bucolic setting for calm meditation. East New York, located in Brooklyn, is one of the most rundown, crime ridden neighborhoods in New York City. The text exchange was supposedly a test he guessed he had passed, but they never even discussed bitcoin. Bob was worried about parking his Mercedes SUV on the street. The Buddha guy said he had nothing to worry about. There would be a spot available right in front of his house.

When Bob arrived, the master, as he referred to himself, asked him to stand on the “transition platform,” which was just a raised step between the hallway and the main rooms of the house. Bob gave him the once over. He had to admit that the little man did have the big belly and man boobs of buddha statues he had seen in Chinatown. The master approached, hands outstretched.

“Stop”, he commanded.

The man spoke with a heavy hispanic accent.

“You no may enter yet.”

Bob was startled.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” The master stared into his eyes.

“Cell phone. I must see if not good for citadel.”

Bob was surprised by this odd request.

“It’s just a phone”

“Yes. Just a phone. Is funny!” The older man shook his head.

Bob fished it out of his pocket and handed it over.

“I-Phone. Not surprised. Is the phone of the evil one.”

Bob thought this was funny.

“Who? Steve Jobs?”

The master did not look amused.

“Look at silly apple symbol. Cute, right? No! Is devil mark.”

He continued.

“For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect.”

Bob was getting irritated.

“ Wait a minute! You’re supposed to be a Buddhist. Now you’re quoting the bible? You sound like a born again Christian.”

Bob took back his phone. The master bent down to tie his left sneaker as he spoke.

“Labels mean nothing. I find truth everywhere. He came with baubles and confetti to entice the most powerful into his prison.”

It seemed like this guy had memorized quotes he liked. Bob didn’t want to engage in this pointless back and forth any longer, so he pretended to agree.

“Okay, I’ll consider a Samsung Galaxy when my contract is up.”

Bob moved to enter the room, but the Master would not budge.

He gave a long, dramatic sniff.

“You have shitcoin stink. Which wallet? Metamask? Exodus? You look like metamask dude, no?”

Bob couldn’t believe it. He did still have a meta mask app on his phone. There were a few coins on there, remnants of the last bull market. He hadn’t even opened the app in a while.

“I don’t know, maybe a little bit.”

The Master looked angry. “What? Did you say little bit? If you eat shit, you say, ‘Is okay, I only ate little?”

Bob was actually getting nervous. He looked down at his feet. The Master was calm as he spoke.

“ You may enter, but no phone.”

Bob protested. “That’s impossible. I need my phone to text my wife.”

The Master shrugged.

“Nietzsche Twilight of Idols. Text her now. Tell her you here. You be going home in hour or two.”

Bob had already texted her, so he reluctantly gave up the phone. The Master placed it in a box near the door. Bob was finally cleared to enter. There were a few chairs and a sofa in the small front room. The walls were bare. A woman emerged from somewhere. She was tall and thin, with angular features, dressed in a black dress, the physical opposite of her short, chubby husband. Bob thought of the Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons from his childhood. Together they reminded him of Boris and Natasha. The Master introduced her to Bob.

“This is my wife, Claudia.”

“Pleased to meet you. Thanks for the hospitality.”

She nodded to Bob without saying anything, then beckoned the two of them to follow. She led them to another room, a circa 1980s kitchen. A smallish wooden table was set for brunch. The master grabbed two bottles of Brooklyn Lager from the refrigerator and motioned for Bob to sit down. Claudia scurried around the kitchen, preparing food. Bob objected when the master reached to open his beer.

“It’s a little early for me.”

Although there were no clocks around, he knew it couldn’t even be noon yet.

The Master was puzzled.

“What you mean?”

Bob couldn’t believe he had to explain himself.

“Do you know what time it is?”

The Master looked at an imaginary watch on his wrist. “Is 2:00pm? Is 9:00am? Bullshit. All made up.” Leap year? Nonsense!”

Bob shrugged and took a swig.

The Master leaned in. Bob assumed the sesshin was starting.

“So, how I call you? Bob? Is your name?”

Bob glanced at Claudia, who was bringing some dishes to the table.

“Yes, Bob. Bob is my name.”

“But is not real name,no? Not man’s name. Bob? Is for child. Is for baby.”

Bob knew he should be insulted, but the little guy was entertaining.

“Well, Robert is my full name.”

The master brightened.

“Ah, Robert! Strong name. A man’s name.”

Bob wondered what century this guy was from.

“So, Mr. Robert, tell me what you know about bitcoin.”

Bob had the feeling he was on some kind of job interview.

“Well, you know, like, the blockchain.”

The Master didn’t seem happy.

“Block chain? Meaningless. Nothing without coin, man. Not shitcoin. Proof of work and time chain. The music of bitcoin. Steven Decker, man. Is regular interval, not you measure with make believe clock. Like drummer keeping beat. Better than Bonham, understand?”

Bob had no clue, but he nodded like he did.

“Why are you here?”

The Master looked genuinely curious. Bob was starting to wonder that himself.

“Well, my wife and I have goals, you, know, like a target.”

The Master looked confused.

“Target? Is here. Here and now. Time and energy. That's it. And there you are. The past already gone, the future not here yet. Here. Oh wait! Gone. You miss. Too bad. There only one moment for you to live.” Bob tried to maintain an intelligent look on his face. He was not following this at all.

“Like when you get new carpet in house, you gotta paint the walls. New carpet make old walls look shitty, right? Take Old Yeller back behind barn.”

Claudia served breakfast. She placed a plate in front of Bob. There was an omelette with three or four sausages on the side and two slices of toast. Bob was still trying to digest the master’s most recent outburst. Old Yeller? What the hell had Jim gotten him into? Bob examined the sausages with his fork. The Master watched him.

“Chorizo. Pork. Eat.” he said.

Claudia placed a dish in front of the Master, then got her own plate and sat down. She still hadn’t spoken to Bob, but she was staring at him. Bob was getting a little nervous. He tried to break eye contact, but it wasn’t easy. The Master, meanwhile, was preoccupied by something he spotted on the floor. Bob saw it too. A giant roach like insect that New Yorkers refer to as a water bug was scurrying around the chair legs. The master sprung from his seat, napkin in hand, and deftly swooped down, gently cradling the insect in the folds of his napkin. Bob couldn’t believe how quick and agile he was, considering that belly.

“I come back right away”, he said, as he headed towards the front door.

Bob turned to Claudia.

“Where’s he going?”

She stared at him, but did not respond.

The Master returned after a minute or two. He addressed Claudia.

“I put in garden, under elderberry”, he said.

“Good.” Claudia said, and she nodded towards her husband.

Bob had to ask about this.

“Wait, you don’t kill water bugs? You bring them outside?”

The Master explained. “Is written that the practitioner must act in manner that is scrupulous, compassionate, trembling for the welfare of all living beings.”

Bob glanced at the pieces of dead pig on his plate, but decided to let the matter rest. They ate in silence, interrupted only by an occasional grunt from Claudia. She kept staring at him. When everyone was finished eating, the Master abruptly stood and spoke.

“Well, okay, is over. I text our decision.”

He walked out of the room towards the front door, expecting Bob to follow. Bob hesitated.

“Wait, that’s it? What about the sesshin?”

The Master kept walking as he turned his head back towards Bob.

“All for today. We confer. Decide.”

Claudia didn’t move out of her chair.

Bob tried to get her attention with a goodbye wave. For the first time in a while, she wasn’t looking at him. Bob collected his phone at the door, said goodbye to the Master, and walked out onto the stoop. Despite his confusion, it was good to be out in the fresh air. There was a group of suspicious looking characters on the street, a little too close to his Mercedes for comfort. Bob felt a twinge of fear. He turned back to the doorway, but the master just gave a slight wave. Bob walked towards his car. One of the group approached him. He was a tall man, dark skinned, probably in his late 20s.

“Hello, sir! Nice to meet you. I am Julio.”

They shook hands.

“I hope the meeting went well. Perhaps we’ll see you again?”

Bob wanted to cut the conversation short.

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

Bob gave a slight wave and opened his car door.

“You are a very lucky man, see? Fate has smiled upon you.”

“Well, nice meeting you,” Bob responded. He wanted to keep this short.

“Have a good trip home,” the man replied as Bob climbed into the driver’s seat.

Bob waved through the car window. Then he started the engine and drove off. For the first time he noticed that the blocks surrounding the master’s house had neatly tended front lawns and looked better cared for than those in the rest of the neighborhood.