On 17 February 2005, Billy was already on his feet at 09:30 -- a time unusually early for him. Probably he simply could not sleep; I joined him and left the kitchen in order to get on with my work.
At some point between 10:30 and 11:00 Billy phoned me [from his closed office] and said that Quetzal was with him and that they searched for the information about the keyword for the single meditation in the Core Group Guide, but didn't find it. As I have the manual electronically on my Mac, I explained to Billy that I would immediately look and call him back right away. Said -- done. I opened up the handbook-file, called Billy back and gave him the page and spot where the item was to be found. He asked again and repeated the page number and the section that I had designated and which I skimmed through at the same time. "This can not be it," I said and heard a male voice in the background that said at the same time: "Das isch es nöd" [That is not it]. It very obviously had to be Quetzal, who looked in the specified place in the manual and had also skimmed over it. At first I was about to ask Billy whether it was Quetzal's voice in the background, but held back as a precaution, and searched further. I again spelled out to Billy two or three places for it, but each could not be it, and I even searched under different keywords -- and each time I heard Quetzal in the background right away, saying that the selected spots were obviously not what was requested. His voice is very much like that of Billy's in tone, but it definitely sounds younger and is somewhat deeper, very masculine and extremely pleasant – smooth and balanced, with a very peaceful and charming undertone.
During the whole conversation, which maybe lasted 3 to 4 minutes, I withheld my question regarding Quetzal and held my thoughts at bay, in order not to reveal under any condition my loud inner "shout of joy" and not bring myself unexpected delight. In so doing I stupidly forgot to send Quetzal a dear greeting, which in hindsight of course incredibly annoyed me, because it would have been the icing on the cake of my experience. During the telephone call, I could not avoid a quiet smile because the two men quite obviously thought that I could not hear Quetzal, for otherwise he would have kept quiet for sure, with Billy understanding him perhaps through hand gestures or nodding.
The two with their work were finished shortly after noon, because Billy again called me afterwards and told me that he would have Quetzal's changes ready for the manual, and they were in the kitchen. I went over to pick up my work and asked him, by the way, whether Quetzal's voice had the same tone as his. He looked at me and asked whether I actually heard Quetzal. "Sure," I said grinning and repeated Quetzal's words. He confirmed it and said that he had not suspected that Quetzal could actually be heard -- he [Quetzal] had been sitting on the sofa and not spoken loudly. Laughing, I told him that I just always hear out of perked up ears when he had something to say to me!
It hardly needs expressing what childlike pleasure I had, to "catch" Quetzal so unexpectedly; and I'm even more glad that during the conversation I actually could avoid the impudence of a hasty remark, or too loud thoughts of unexpected joy, of which I certainly must live a long time before being refreshed by a similar new experience -- if my good fortune should ever again be realized.