THE HERU SPECIAL CHAPTER 7-9

[K-Blao]

Link for Chapters 1-5

Link for Chapter 6

 

CHAPTER 7

She had a foreign look.  Her hair was red, but Mason couldn't tell if it was natural or dyed.  It didn't

matter.  He was focused on her thick thighs that were barely covered in jean shorts.  He could see a few

green veins under her tanned, white skin.  As Mason peered over the passenger side window, he saw a rolled

blunt sitting on her lap.  Mason noticed the number 23 on her red jersey.  Above that number read the

words:

"Chicago"

She looked into Mason's eyes and smiled.

"A little bit, why?  Are you trying to look like one?"

Mason stood up straight and rubbed his beard.  "Do you like guys that look like drug dealers?"

The girl turned the music down as the driver proceeded to exit the car.  She laughed as she opened the

door.  As she stepped out of the car, her phone fell and hit the ground, making a cracking sound.  She

bent over and picked it up.  As she stood up, Mason noticed that her hair was long and brown.  Her

features seemed to be Spanish, but her skin was white.  "I like a guy that knows how to be himself."

Mason raised his hand.  "Hold on, baby girl, I was talking to your friend.  I'm going to talk to you in

just one second."

"Pffft!  Whatever," the girl stated as she headed toward the pump.  She swiped her card and began to punch

numbers on the pad.  Mason noticed the words on her jersey.

"Jordan"
"23"

Mason turned to the passenger.  "I hope that's some cush, you've got in that blunt."


"What the hell does it matter what I'm smoking on, nigga, you don't know me."

"Because if you're going to fuck with something, you want to make sure that you're fucking with some real

shit.  And I know it's hard to tell between the real and the fake shit sometimes, you understand what I'm

saying?"

"So what you're trying to say, you've got some real shit?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

Mason heard the gas pump beep a few times and noticed the driver was looking directly at him as she pumped

the gas.  That's when he noticed that she was not as pretty as the passenger, who seemed a little too

excited and eager to socialize.  The driver gave Mason a look as if she were evaluating him.  Her presence

was very seductive.  Although she was not as pretty as the passenger, she was more sexy.

"How are you doing?"  Mason asked.

"Fine," she replied unemotionally.  She took a swig of her Red Bull energy drink and swallowed.  Mason

tried to read her, but couldn't get any signs.  But he didn't take this as a sign of disinterest.  "Who

are you?"

"What does it matter?"  Mason asked.  Mason opened the back door of the car and began to get in the car.

"What are you doing?" the passenger asked with a smile on her face.

The driver quickly opened the driver's side back door and leaned into the car.  Mason shut the door and

sighed.  "This is much better."

"Um, why are you in my car?" asked the driver.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name," Mason replied.

"Rosa.  What the hell are you doing in my car?"

"Rosa.  That's a nice name.  It reminds me of a big red rose."  Mason laughed and looked directly at her.  

She smiled and sat in the car.  "Thanks, but you can't just hop in my car like that.  I don't know you.  

You could be crazy."

"We're all a little crazy in some ways," the passenger stated and laughed.

Mason laughed.  "So what's good, baby.  Blow that bag."

"I ain't smoking with you, nigga.  I just met your ass.  Plus you just hopped in the car like you knew us

and shit.  We could have took off with your ass and took you directly to the police station."

"Naw, I knew you wouldn't do that.  I'm a good judge of character.  You look like you want to smoke a

blunt with me and find out just how interesting I really am."

The two girls looked at each other and smiled.  Rosa laughed.  "First of all, I don't even smoke.  She

does.  Second, we don't have time for all of that.  Third, nobody is about to light up a blunt at a gas

station, so that's dead.  Why don't we trade numbers and chill later."

"I like the way she thinks,"  Mason said.  "I'm making a run out to Pheonix real quick, but I'm going to

be back this way in about an hour and a half.  

"That's fine," the passenger responded.  "The concert should be over by then."

"What concert?"  Mason asked.

"Lil Wayne," said the driver.  "He's performing at the carnival in about a half hour.  That's where we're

going."

Mason found himself standing absolutely still.  It felt as if they were playing a practical joke on him.  

"That's crazy because..." Mason stopped speaking.  He smiled to himself and realized that he was saying

'that's crazy' yet again.  As Mason stood there not moving, he found it almost impossible to describe the

feeling that he had right now.  He wanted to tell the two females that he had just finished talking about

Lil Wayne in a conversation about synchronicity.  He wanted to tell them that he was just told not to say

'that's crazy'.  However, Mason realized that he would look crazy if he tried to explain this to them.  As

he stood there, staring at the ground and smiling to himself, the two females looked at each other with a

confused stare.  Mason could see them looking at each other through periphrial vision, so he caught a hold

of himself and continued.  "My friend and I were just talking about Lil Wayne."

Mason began looking around for Po.  He saw him at pumping gas into the tank and talking on his cell phone.

 Mason felt an overwhelming urge to tell Po that Lil Wayne was performing in a half hour.  He had quickly

forgot why they had even taken this trip.  The thought of watching a Lil Wayne concert with these two

women had completely hijacked his original thought, which was to go meet a new connect.  He already knew

what Po was going to say if he told him.  So instead of asking, he told the passenger, "Why don't you take

down my number because I've got to get back to my friend before he leaves my ass.  Two, two, four.  Three,

five, seven,"  Mason pulled out his phone.  "As a matter of fact, call me right now. Six, five, three,

three."

The passenger pulled out her phone and the driver backed out of the car.  As she backed out, Mason could

smell her sweet perfume blow through the car.  It smelled heavenly.  Mason did not want to get out of the

car.  He saw Po placing the gas pump back on the lever, and this made him get out of the car.  As Mason

shut the door, he saw a phone number in his cell phone as it rang.

"That's me," said the passenger.  "Call us in a few hours and we can get up and smoke, baby."

"I didn't get your name, baby," Mason said.  

"Nary," she replied.

Mason began to save her name with the number.  He walked back toward the pump, as the car started.  Mason

opened the passenger side door and smelled cigarette smoke as he proceeded to sit in the car.  Po exhaled

the smoke and cut the music up.  Lil Wayne's voice filled the car as the familiar tune rippled through the

gas station.

"Niggas is jealous, but really I could care less,
I'm in hells kitchen with an apron and a hair net.
Devil on my shoulders, the lord is my wittness,
So on my libra scale I'm weighing sins and forgiveness.
What goes around comes around like a hula hoop,
Karma is a bitch, well just make sure that bitch is beautiful.
Life on the edge, I'm dangling my feet,
I tried to pay attention but attention paid me.
Haters can't see me, nose bleed seats,
And today I went shopping, and talk is still cheap.
I rock to the beat of my drum set,
I've been at the top for a while and I ain't jump yet.
( haha ) but I'm, Ray Charles to the bull shit,
Now jump up on that dick and do a full split.

Mason pulled a nugget of weed out of his sock.  The bag was covered in Superman embelems.  He took a

twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and began breaking the buds into the bill.  

"Man, I'm gonna try to fuck both of those bitches when we get back," Mason stated.

"Is that right?"  Po asked.  

"Yeah, they was feeling me.  You never gonna believe this.  But it's crazy because they're going to a Lil

Wayne concert."

"Get the fuck out of here," Po said.

"Yeah, that shit is crazy.  We were just talking about Lil Wayne."

"Damn.  Right, right.  That means we're in synch."

Mason pulled a cigar out of his pocket and began to unwrap it.

"What?"

"We're in synch.  We're on course.  We're on the right path.  Things get more predictable.  Once you move

with it for so long, you can even hit the lotto if you want to.  That's what I'm about to do."

Mason threw the cigar wrapper out of the window.  As Po continued to drive, he heard a female voice coming

from Po's phone say, "Continue straight."

Mason knew the voice was a recording.  It sounded like GPS.  As Mason began to split the cigar down the

middle, he noticed that Po's conversation was getting more interesting.

"What do you mean?  You think you're going to hit the lotto?"

"I am going to hit the lotto," Po responded.  "It's just going to be a few more days or so.  But I don't

want to talk about it too much.  But we are in synch when you start seeing shit like that."

As Po's car approached a stop sign, Mason dumped the insides of the cigar on to the ground.  Po continued

up the main street.  

"Those two girls that you met back there were a distraction," Po said.

"Oh here you go," Mason responded as he began to pour the weed into the cigar.  "What do you mean there

were a distraction?"  

"Man you will never know how that just looked at me.  You just talking to those girls.  First off, there

were in a red taurus, which is the Red Bull, which is symbolic of the lower self, but supreme lower self.  

Taurus is earthly.  They have fatter asses.  They have bigger titties.  That's mother earth.  But if it's

red, it's symbolic of the first chakra, which is the lower self.  Then they had the same symbol on their

jersey, with the Chicago Bulls.  Not to mention they both had the number 23 on their shirts, which is

giving in to the unknown forces and letting them guide you instead of knowing yourself.  That's the number

23 lit."

Mason stopped licking his blunt and looked at Po.  "Nigga, what the fuck did you just say?  You tripping

hard."

"Naw, I'm not.  I'm breaking it down for you.  The Number 23 lit is when people give in to the unknown.  

They just think that there is this unknown energy that controls things and no matter how much you try to

explain it, people just won't understand.  They are lost in their own energy.  They're energy controls

them.  They don't control their energy.  And they don't even want to know about the energy that controls

them.  They think it's something that can't be explained.  They just shrug their shoulders and accept

things the way they are.  Some of those people get spooked out by synchronicity.  Or they scare

themselves."

Mason rolled the rest of the blunt and put it in his mouth.  He had no idea what Po was talking about yet

again.  It didn't matter though.  The weed was going to make him feel more relaxed.  His mind traveled to

the girls in the car.  He tried to figure out what Po was saying in regards to the Bull's jerseys.

"So you're telling me that every person who wears a Michael Jordan jersey is crazy?"  Mason asked while

lighting the blunt.

"Not exactly.  But they're giving in to the astonishment of something that is only human, but making it

bigger than what it really is.  Michael Jordan is just as human as you and I.  But when you buy his shoes

and put on his jersey, you feel supernatural.  You feel like you are surrounded by an unknown force that

makes you greater than you would normally feel if you weren't wearing those shoes.  You don't know what

that force is or where it comes from.  Nor do you want to know.  You just want to give in to that force.  

Because it will make you feel like a better person.  This is the Number 23 lit."


Mason lit his blunt and began to inhale.  As he inhaled, he noticed that there was a limited amount of

smoke coming out of the blunt.  He took the blunt out of his mouth and looked at it, observing the small

crack near the middle.  He put his index finger in his mouth, allowing spit to moisten his finger.  He

then placed his finger on the blunt, attempting to repair the crack.  After putting the blunt back in his

mouth and taking another hit, he felt more smoke enter his mouth.  "The Number 23 lit?  Nigga, you keep

talking about 'lit.'  What the fuck is a 'lit'?"  

Po chuckled to himself.  "Damn, man, you don't even know what 'lit' is?"

Mason shook his head as he tried to hold the weed smoke in his chest.  He let out a slight cough and smoke

escaped his mouth.

"The lit is the solution!  The creed.  The writings that can't be taken away.  Once you know the lit, you

can't forget it.  Like check this out.  I used to study this shit called P.U.A.  It stands for pick up

arts.  The art of picking up a woman."

Mason exhaled more smoke, "Well, I don't need to study no shit like that.  I already know how to spit

game."

Po shook his head.  "That's not the point, nigga.  Listen.  When you study PUA, they give you terms for

shit that you already may know, but they confirm it.  Like they have this shit called L.M.R.  That stands

for "last minute resistance."  That means you can be making out with a girl, and right before you go to

put your dick in her, she says 'Hold on, slow down.  You're moving too fast."  

Mason quietly inhaled more smoke.

Po looked over at Mason.  "What do you do?"  

"What?"  Mason asked while snapping out of his daze.

"Have you been listening to a word I just said?"

"Yeah, you was saying when a bitch be fronting, acting like she don't want to give you the pussy.  What

would I do?"

Po inhaled the last of his cigarette and chucked the butt out the window.  "Yeah, what do you do?"

"Shit, depends on how bad I really want to fuck the girl,"  Mason replied casually.

"Yeah.  That's the point.  It's on you.  Not her.  It's your responsibility to know that it's part of a

females nature to tell you to slow down right before you hit it.  But if you don't know that, then you're

going to fail that test every time.  It's thousands of niggas in jail right now for rape, battery, and a

whole list of other shit that could have been completely avoided had a nigga just known the lit.  L.M.R.  

Last minute resistance.  Know that it's coming and you will be tested on it.  This is one of the many

tests that will come in your life that you never really prepare for.  Nobody ever tells you how to respond

to a situation like that.  Same thing if a white man calls you a nigger.  Nobody ever told you how to

respond to a situation like that."

Mason chuckled to himself.  "That's easy, I just whoop his white ass."

"Isn't that just what every other nigga would say?"  Po asked.

Mason shrugged his shoulders.  "Okay, then you tell me what I'm supposed to do."

"I can't tell you what to do.  I can only get you to understand the lit.  The lit tells you to get ready

for situations like this.  How you respond is completely up to you.  But if you study the lit, you will

know exactly how to respond.  You will be proactive instead of reactive.  Example.  What do you do when

you find out your woman has been going through your phone?  What do you do when a cop calls you a nigger?  

How do you respond when your mom scolds you like you're still a little boy?  What do you do when a four

year old little girl intentionally throws her red kool aid on your brand new white shirt as a joke?  What

do you do when your son comes home and tells you that he likes boys?  What do you do when you fall all the

way off and can't find anymore dope to sell and your woman gets overwhelmed with paying all the bills?  

How you respond to situations like this are already programmed into your behavior.  
  The lit keeps you prepared for situations like this.  We can sit here and go back and forth all day

trading ideas, but unless we reach a conscensus or solution, then we haven't done anything but waste each

other's time.  But if you know the lit, you will see a potential problem before it even happens.  Just

like L.M.R.  A girl can never throw me off my game by telling me to slow down.  In fact, I tell her to

slow down and don't get any ideas before she even gets a chance to tell me.  Because I know it's coming if

I don't.  I'm proactive instead of reactive.  Get it?"

Mason realized that he didn't hear a word that Po had just said until he said 'Get it?'  Mason nodded his

head as if he understood what Po was saying.  It was hard for Mason to concentrate on what Po was talking

about because the weed was forcing him to think about the two girls in the red Taurus.  Suddenly, he

realized that he had no idea how he would react if one of them told him to slow down while trying to have

sex.

Before he could finish that thought, his phone rang.  

Wake up!  Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!  Wake up!
It's the first of the month...
So get up!  Get up!  Get up! Get up! Get up!
So cash your check and come on!


He looked down at his phone and saw his dad's phone number.  This caused his stomach to get hot.  He felt

overwhelmed by the urge to sit on the toilet and release the pressure that was building in his gut.  He

tried to quickly exhale the rest of the weed smoke in his lungs, causing him to cough a bit.  Mason

nervously tried to get his thoughts in order.  Would he talk or just listen?  Would he laugh or be

serious?  Would he take advice or give it?  

Right before he answered the phone, he turned to Po.  "Do I look high?"

Po laughed.  "Hell, yeah, nigga.  But what does it matter if you're on the phone?"

Mason felt a sense of relief come over him.  Somehow, he had completely forgotton that this was just a

phone call.  "Right, right, right."  He replied.  "Okay, let's see," he said to nobody in particular.

Mason pressed the green button.

"Hello?"


CHAPTER 8

"What's up, man?" said a familiar voice on the other end.  He said it in a tone that made Mason realize

several things at once.  For one, his dad did not seem like his normal cheerful self.  Two, Mason realized

that he is starting to sound more like his father everyday.  Third, they were both high, but it sounded

like his dad was much more higher than he was.


"Not much, dad, how are you feeling?"  Dumb question.

"It's not looking good, man," he replied.  "Doctor says that I have a tumor the size of a grapefruit

growing near my liver.  I was in a lot of pain earlier, when I was trying to pee, so they brought me to

the hospital and stuck a cathedar in me.  So now I'm peeing in a bag.  But they gave me this shit called

morphine.  Man, that's like the best shit in the world, right there.  I feel so good about feeling shitty

right now, man."  He laughed to himself.  The wisdom heard in his laugh made Mason smile.  He still hasn't

lost his dry sense of humor.  "How have you been?"

Mason swallowed.  "I've been okay.  I'm actually working right now.  I'm on my way out to Pheonix,

Illinois.  You know I have a few jobs lined up out there."

"Oh." Silence.  "Well, if you're too busy, I can just call you back later."

"No, that's not what I'm saying.  I'm just saying, that's what I'm doing right now.  I'm on my way out

there.  But I can come see you when I get back later.  What hospital are you at?"

"North...Northwestern," he replied.  He chuckled to himself.  "I'm peeing right now as I talk to you."

"Thanks for sharing tht with me, dad," Mason laughed.

"My pleasure son.  Hey son, you don't have to make a special trip to come and see me or anything.  

Everything's cool, alright.  I don't want you panicking, or driving on the road fast, or for you to get

hurt or anything.  Everything's cool.  I'm going to be okay.  Okay?  So don't worry about it if you don't

want to come."

Mason heard the insecurity in his father's voice.  He could hear that he was lonely inside and wanted

someone to talk to.  "Dad, I'll be there."

"Alright, son, I love you."

"Love you too, dad,"  Mason replied.

He hung up the phone and sank in his chair.  Looking down into his lap, he saw a cigarette being passed to

him.  He looked up and saw Po leaning in his direction, with a cigarette stretched out.  "You gonna take

it or not?"

Mason didn't even like that brand of cigarettes, but for some reason he took it and lit it up. After a few

puffs, he felt himself get a little light headed.  Then he felt a sense of clarity about the sitution.  He

would go see his father later tonight.  He would talk to the doctor to find out exactly what's going on.  

Everything was going to be okay.  Right?

"Do you know the first story ever told?"  Po asked Mason.

Mason inhaled the cigarette smoke.  "No, but I bet you do."

Po smiled.  

"Yeah.  The first story ever told was about a man named Mason, who drove to Pheonix, Illinois in a

Thunderbird.  There was this other dude named Po who was trying to explain to Mason that he was asleep,

but Mason couldn't understand what the fuck he was talking about."  

Mason started laughing.

Po continued, "They got pulled over by the police, and Po did some magical shit that freaked Mason out and

made him start asking life's big questions.  Then all of a sudden Po started saying a bunch of wild shit

about the sun and the moon and triangles and wild shit."

Mason was laughing so hard that he was beginning to cough and tears came to his eyes.  His stomach was

beginning to ache.  "Nigga, you stupid!"

Po began lauging.  "Yeah, nigga.  Then all of a sudden some wild shit happened."

Mason tried to catch his breath.  "What happened, nigga?"

Po looked directly into Mason's eyes.  "Mason took off flying through the air, like a falcon."

Mason inhaled.  "What, nigga?"

Po nodded his head.  "Yeah, G.  Mason took off flying like Hancock."

Mason felt like his leg was being pulled.  "Get the fuck out of here, nigga."

"Yeah, you forgot you could fly, I see.  That's the Peter Pan lit.  The same thing happened when we tried

to tell Christ.  Figures though.  He was a hardheaded motherfucker too until he got baptised.  He forgot

he could fly, too."

Mason felt extremely intrigued by what Po was saying.  "What?"

"Yeah, Jesus was an asshole before he got saved.  That's why they leave all that shit out the bible.  

Jesus always had power, but before he got baptized, he was..."

Po seemed to be reaching for a word that couldn't come to him.  Mason leaned towards Po, expecting the

word to come out of his mouth any second.  

"...kinda insensitive," Po finished.  

Mason reached into his pocked and pulled out a cigarette.  He rolled down the window and looked into the

driver side mirror.  He looked into his reflection and liked what he saw.  For some reason, he felt

different.  He didn't know exactly what it was, but he liked it.  He put on his sunglasses and put the

cigarette into his mouth.  He subconsciously began to imitate Po, as the cigarette began to bounce up and

down as he was talking.  "Nigga, how the fuck do you know Jesus was insensitive before he got baptised?"  

Mason lit his cigarette.

Po hit his signal and turned left.  As he approached the ramp to merge onto the highway, he noticed that

there was a police car behind him.  Although Mason was looking into the mirror, he did not even notice the

police car behind him.  He was too focused on the words,

Objects may seem closer than they appear.

Before Mason could smile at this, he noticed the words to the familiar tune playing.

Staring the world through my rearview,
Go head baby, scream to God.  He can't hear you.
I can feel your heart beating fast, yes it's time to die.
Getting high watching time fly.

Po merged onto the ramp and continued.  "Because not only was it written, but I was there.  But that's not

the point.  The point is don't ever forget some shit that you forgot."

Mason began chuckling to himself as he realized that Po was once again talking in riddles.  He started to

enjoy Po's little riddles, but before he could finish that thought, he realized that what Po had just said

was not a riddle at all.  It took a second for it to dawn on Mason.  He had a feeling that he already knew

what Po was going to say next, but before he could verbalize it, Po was already saying it, almost exactly

how Mason was about to say it.

"That's when you forget something that was important to you.  Something sacred to you that you knew was

true, but you forget about it for whatever reason.  But not only did you forget that jewel, you forgot

that you even forgot that jewel."

"What's a jewel?"  Mason asked.

"Goddamn, nigga, you don't even know what the fuck a 'jewel' is?" Po asked, almost sounding irritated.  

Mason felt almost insulted.  "No.  I think.  Wait.  Like...like something important?"

Po shook his head.  "Yeah, but what do you call 'something important'?  Those little tidbits of

information.  'An apple a day..."

"Keeps the doctor away," Mason finished.

"Right.  What do you call that?"

Mason realized that his mind could not produce a word to describe what he was being asked to bring forth.  

He could not think of a word to explain why it was important to have these little tidbits of information

either.  "Fuck if I know."

Po smiled.  "See, that's the bastard language lit.  The mental lockdown of your vocabulary due to the fact

that the english language doesnt hold enough words to describe some of the mental experiences we go

through.  That's why you can't think of one word for 'virtue', but you can think of ten different names

for weed."

Mason sat back in his chair and thought of a way to respond to what Po had just said, but he could think

of none.  In fact, he felt that thought spiraling into other words that he had ten different names for

that really meant nothing.  Then his thought returned to the word,
"Virtue!  Right virtue!"  

It was at that point that Mason realized that he didn't even really realize the meaning of the word

virtue.  But somehow, this conversation was subconsciously making it make sense.  "Right.  Damn.  I

couldn't even think of another word to describe what a virtue is.  It's kind of like the 'lit', but the

'jewels' are what make up the 'lit.'  Do you understand?"

Mason had a moment of clarity.  "Woah."

"Right, that's what the Godbody's did when we came in.  Clarence 13X used to call it "dropping bombs", but

then Mobb Deep called it 'dropping jewels'.  Some niggas call it 'kicking knowledge' or 'kicking science',

we call it dropping jewels.  See, that's the thing.  Back then, when they were first forming the Godbody's

they were giving all the rappers jewels like this in order to put into the music.  That's why a lot of

earlier hip hop was flooded with jewels like this.  But that was back when the culture wasn't as

regulated."

Mason stopped Po.  "You're losing me."  That's when Mason noticed the police car behind him.  "Shit, nigga

there goes the police!"

Po continued, "Back when we became further aware of the knowledge of self we started to realize that the

english language didn't even hold the right words to describe certain situations that us as black folk

would go through.  We also liked to disguise what we were saying so that the police had no idea what we

were talking about.  So the hip hop music became a really good tool to use where we could use our own

language of what they called 'slang', but it better communicated a lot of the unspoken truths and

realities that we were being exposed to."

Mason reached over his shoulder and put his seatbelt on.  Through the driver side mirror, he continued to

watch the police car follow them.  He wondered why Po didn't even react.  Subconsciously, Mason began to

imitate Po's behavior.

"A lot of those realities were given a voice, that made the younger generation see things that the older

generations couldn't see.  It made the information travel faster, too.  You could listen to a three minute

song, but get like twenty jewels in one song, where as a lot of the music from the seventies, you could

only get like three or four jewels.  So the slang created new words that woke up the masses to further

realms of the human imagination ruled by the english language."

Mason heard what Po was saying, but he couldn't follow the concepts.  He just kept his eye on the police

car.  It seemed like the car was intentionally following them.  Po merged into traffic and crossed over to

the middle lane.  The police car did the same.

Po continued.  "So they had to regulate the culture and manufacture it themselves.  That's why they cut

out swear words on the radio that aren't even swear words."

Mason picked up on the last sentence.  However, the police car was distracting him from fully grasping

what Po was saying.  "What?  Nigga, don't you notice that police car behind you?  You don't even have your

seatbelt on.  Goddammit!"

"You ever hear that song by Ludacris and Mary J Blige?  What's it called? 'Runaway Love.'  You ever heard

that song?"

Mason, looked into the rearview mirror as 2Pac's voice echoed through the car.

I'm seeing nothing but my dreams coming true,
while I'm staring the world through my rearview.  

"Yeah," Mason replied.  He felt the urge to say something else about the police car, but he ignored the

urge.  He felt his stomach getting hot and sweat run down his back.  

"Yeah, well, dude is trying to give  message about a little girl who's friend get's killed in a drive by,

but on the radio, they cut out the word 'drive by.'  What the fuck type of shit is that?  Then he's

talking about a girl getting raped by her stepdad, but the radio cuts out the word 'rape.'  Now go cut on

primetime television at seven o'clock at night, and you can watch like four different police drama's like

Law and Order, where they will actually show you somebody get shot in a drive by, or a little girl get

raped and murdered, full with fake blood, fake guns, fake bullets, and fake death scenes, giving you a

full visual.  Yet, you cut out the word drive by and rape in a song with a message.  Explain that."

Mason's heart skipped a beat when he witnessed the last thing that he wanted to happen.  The red and blue

lights began flashing from the police car, and the siren began to blare.  Mason could not believe that he

was being stopped for a second time today.  

Po continued.  "The culture isn't really culture.  It's like, manufactured culture.  There's a guy

standing in room somewhere saying which words can come through the mainstream radio, and which words

can't."

Mason began to panic, when he realized that Po was still not reacting to the fact that the police siren

came on and the lights were flahing.  Then Po looked into his rearview mirror and sucked his teeth.  The

police car crossed over into the third lane and sped past Po and Mason, driving off into the distance.  

Mason exhaled and sat back in the car as he heard the siren continue off into the distance.  He felt a

little paranoid, but didn't want to speak on it.  That's when he realized that he had completely missed

Po's point.

"Nigga, you gonna have to chill on that ama say amu sah coomaku sah shit for a minute while I catch my

breath,"  Mason said while breathing heavily.  

"You didn't even notice that you weren't breathing, huh?" Po asked while smiling.

Mason felt the urge to roll another blunt.  He then realized that he had just began breathing a moment ago

when the cop drove off.  This probably explained why he felt like he had just ran a mile.  "Hell, naw.  

Damn, that's crazy"

Silence.

Po looked into Mason's eyes.  Mason looked into Po's eyes, as they both came to the same realization.

"That's crazy!" they both exclaimed at the same time and began laughing.  

Po's smile quickly disappeared.  "G, one of the first stories was the story of Heru.  His father Ausar was

killed by his jealous brother Set.  Set broke Ausar up into thirteen pieces, mutilated the pieces, and

spread it through the land.  Auset, the sister and wife of Ausar came and found all thirteen pieces and

put them back together, but one piece was missing.  His dick."

Mason smiled, then his face seemed disgusted.  "That's nasty.  He was fucking his sister?"

"Yeah.  And she gave birth to the son, Heru.  But he got wacked by Set.  Auset came and put the pieces

back together after Ausar died.  Then they made a special golden dick for him and attached it.  That's why

we got bigger dicks."

Mason laughed to himself and remained silent.

"In turn, she mated with Ausar and gave birth to Heru.  Heru became the resurrected Ausar, who is the

symbol of the hero.  Heru goes on to defeat Set.  Now, ask youself.  Why is this story important?"

Mason shrugged his shoulders.  "I don't know nigga, but all that Egyptian shit that you're talking about

is supposed to be the Illuminati and devil worship.  I don't talk about shit like that, so, we can stop

right there."

"Ignorance is bliss, ain't it, G?"  Po asked while Mason pulled out his sack of weed.

"No, it's not that.  It's just that I don't fuck around with all that Egypt shit, because you'll fuck

around and get a curse put on you, like that movie the Mummy."  He chuckled.

"Yeah, ignorance is bliss," Po repeated.  "So basically, you're telling me that I'm going to hell because

I told you that story?"

"No," Mason replied.  "I just don't fuck around with that shit."

"Well, let me ask you this.  Why is it okay to watch 'the Mummy', but it's evil for us to sit here and

talk about it?"

Mason tried to come up with a response.  He could find none except, "I don't know Po, I just don't feel

right talking about shit like that."  He removed a blunt from his pocket.  

"That's the mystery.  See, Jesus studied at a place called, 'the Mystery Schools'.  Legend has it that he

was smarter than most of his teachers, so he would get into trouble a lot.  So they had to send him to an

entirely different type of school to give him the big answers to the big questions that he was asking.  

And they taught him stories like that.  Stories about death and resurrection.  Darkness and light.  Ending

and beginning.  Order out of chaos.  Left brain versus right brain.  Male versus female.  Adult versus

child.  Universes and planets.  All that shit.  Shit that they didn't teach in regular schools.  So this

is who Jesus was trying to be.  While the rest of the world is trying to be Jesus, Jesus was trying to be

Heru!"

Mason felt goosebumps rise up his neck.  He felt like the information coming from Po's mouth was satanic.  

But it didn't seem evil.  It actually made sense.  Who was Jesus' heros?
"Right.  What the fuck did Jesus study in school?"

Po smiled.  "Good question.  Here's the answer.  The Kaballah."

Mason scratched his head.  "What the fuck is that?"

"The study of Ein Sof.  God can't be contained through conversation.  God is 'revealed'.  Here's the 'End

Source lit'; When I start talking about God, all you're going to do is try to see if I'm really practicing

what I preach.  Or that I might think that I am the 'end source' of all knowledge.  It's not until you

fight those two demons, that you actually start to consider what I am saying.  But if I didn't say

anything at all, you would still be able to see God in me just by me sitting here.  I don't have to say

shit.  Sometimes you just look at certain people and see God in them.  That's how God is 'revealed'.  In

the essence of the person.  It's written in their heart or not.  You can't 'talk God up'.  That's kind of

what Kaballah is.  It shows you how God 'reveals' himself not only through human behavior, but throughout

the entire universe.  Your life on a scope from birth to death.  Moving upward through growth in

spirituality, but forward in life.  God reveals himself through knowledge, wisdom, understanding, loving

of mercy, correct power of judgement, beauty through compassion, triumph through endurance, foundation of

godlike fruitation, which gives the realm of God."

Mason felt himself getting sleepy.  "Okay, you're going too far.  I think I need a break.  Just wake me up

when we get there, okay?"

Po didn't respond.  He just looked ahead continuing on his path.  

Mason felt his stomach rumble.  There was pressure building in his gut.  He let out a loud fart that

rumbled heat under his legs.  The sound of the fart studdered like a car that can't start.  Mason exhaled

and laughed.  He could smell the foul odor emit from his clothing.  "That was a good one," he said.  Ten

seconds later he was asleep.

Po adjusted his rearview mirror and inhaled his cigarette.  He turned up the music.

Staring the world through my rearview,
Go head baby, scream to God.  He can't hear you.
I can feel your heart beating fast, yes it's time to die.
Getting high watching time fly.

Chapter 9

Vast darkness spread from the back of Mason's neck up toward his forhead.  There was a slight tingle in

between his eyes.  He reached up and scratched his eyebrow and realized that he was still inside the car.  

He didn't open his eyes.  He felt himself drifting in between being awake and falling asleep.  How long

had he been sleep?  He felt the car turning left and his body weight shiftted toward the passenger door.  

As the car began to straighten out, he felt a thought go back to the dream he just had.  He saw a giant

eye open up, and from the eye came forth a white horse that was running toward him.  He had seen the image

of the white horse somewhere before, and when it grew wings and took off flying over his head, he was

certain that he had seen it before.  Somehow, Mason could not turn around to see where the horse had flown

off to, as he was being pulled into the darkness in the center of the eye.  When he was completely

surrounded by darkness, he saw the stars form the shape of the same white horse.  This is when he noticed

that he was looking into the night sky.  The horse seemed to be floating toward three bright stars in the

sky.  As Mason took another look at the three stars, he noticed that he was only looking at a small part

of a much bigger picture.  The three stars seemed to be part of a belt.  Mason noticed a giant man in the

sky wearing a belt that had three stars.  He then noticed the the horse was no longer a horse, but a white

dog.  Then Mason noticed that the dog was not white, but was made of pure light, like a star.  Mason heard

his father's voice saying,

"Son, never forget where you came from."

He then watched the dog burst into the purest white light that he had ever seen.  It seemed brighter than

the sun.  Mason could hear other voices suggesting that the light was brighter than the sun.  He also

heard a voice say,

"We got a new sun!"

The light formed into a star that twinkled in four different directions, like a cross.  Mason saw twelve

stars emerge from the darkness, surrounding the cross.  The stars were in place, almost appearing like a

clock on the wall.  For no apparent reason, Mason said to himself,

"Satan, your time is almost up."

When Mason said this, he noticed that he had not actually 'said' it, but there was some sort of 'bubble'

emerging from his mouth.  When the bubble had completely came out of his mouth and began to float upward

toward the sky, Mason could see inside the bubble.  Inside, he could see himself being interviewed on a

television show.  There was a very large crowd.  Mason was wearing a suit and appeared much older.  The

host seemed to be in awe of the information that Mason was saying.  

From behind him, Mason heard voices say, "That's it!  Keep saying stuff like that!"

For no reason, Mason began saying things like,

"All of your enemies are one person!"

"Your body is a coffin for your spirit!"

"Wake up Mason!  Wake up inside your coffin and look out through the two secret holes that you call your

eyes!"

As Mason was saying this, he noticed that there were these 'bubbles' emerging from his mouth, and inside

the bubbles where moments of time that were so intricate and full of detail that it seemed impossible to

create manually.  What was even more interesting was that the certain details about the moment in time

revealed that other people were speaking in this same fashion; actually speaking "moments of time" into

existence.  It seemed completely impossible unless it was a dream.  But the dream felt so real.

Someone said,  "There's no way in hell he's going to remember this when he wakes up."

Mason felt his eyes open, even though he was dreaming and his eyes were still closed.  Funny, because his

eyes were already open in the dream, but somehow, he opened them again.  Right when he opened them, he saw

a white man in a suit fall out of the sky and land on the ground right in front of Mason.  He hit the

ground hard.  It seemed like he did not intend on hitting the ground as hard as he did.  For some reason,

this made Mason laugh.  

The white man in the suite slowly got up off of the ground and staring at the ground, apparently looking

for something.  Somehow, Mason already knew that this Man was Agent Smith, and he was looking for his eye.

 

I can hear his thoughts, Mason thought.  

As soon as he finished that thought, he heard Smith's thought's say,

He can hear me.

That's when Mason realized that Smith could hear him too.  

Holy shit, Mason thought.  Po was right.

How could he be right?  Smith asked.  How can you be a white man?  I'm white.  You're black.  There's no

way that we could be the same person.  Right?  I mean, help me find my eye.

Mason looked on the ground and realized that they were both standing in grass that appeared clear.  In

between the grass blades, there was a reflection of what was going on beneath the clear ground that they

were standing on.  There were millions of people under the ground, and their hands were beating on what

appeared to be a glass ceiling that Mason and Smith were standing on top of.  All of the hands appeared to

be black people.

Mason tried to ignore the millions of hands trying to break free, as he looked around for an eye.  He

couldn't find it anywhere.  Mason was trying to see if he could see any faces underneath the hands that

were beating on the ceiling, but there were way too many hands trying to break free for him to make out a

face.

"Don't give him back his eye!"

This scared Mason.  This is when he noticed that all of the hands stopped beating on the glass at the same

time.

"Mason, don't give him back his eye!"

All of the hands pointed in one direction.  Mason walked over to where they were all pointing.  He saw the

eye laying between the clear grass blades.  

How could he have not seen it?  Mason thought.

Mason picked the eye up, and he could hear voices saying,

"Throw it away!"

"Don't give it to him!"

Smith walked up to Mason.  "What do you plan on doing with my eye?"

Mason looked down at the hands, who were all placing their hands together in prayer.

Smith laughed.  "Mason, do you really think that you're going to stop me if you don't give me back my eye?

 I could just take yours instead."

"What do you want from me?"  Mason asked.

"It's not just you, Mason.  I'm inside of everyone.  It's just how we're all programmed.  You're not even

supposed to know that I'm here.  So now that you know, you have to realize that it's kind of inappropriate

for you to ask, 'What do you want from me?'"

"Inappropriate?"  Mason asked.  "How could a question be inappropriate?"

"Well, if you were in the middle of playing a video game, and all of a sudden, the character on the screen

stopped, looked at you and said, 'What do you want from me?'  How would you feel?  Or if you were in the

middle of watching a Superman movie, then all of a sudden in the middle of the movie, Superman got tired

of fighting.  He went home, opened a beer, smoked a cigarette, sat in front of his computer, turned on

some porn and started jerking off.  This went on for about forty five minutes into the movie.  All of a

sudden, he realizes that you're watching him, then he turns to you and says, 'What do you want from me?'  

How would you feel?"

Mason instantly woke up.

Po was pulling into a parking lot that seemed a mile long.  They crossed over a lake that had a giant

crocodile floating, watching the car as it drove across a bridge.  As they approached the house, it

appeared from behind the pine trees.  It was beautiful.  The entire front end was glass and completely see

through.  He could see a man sitting on a couch with a fireplace burning.  He was reading a book.  Three

Dalmatian dogs ran up to the glass and began waiving their tails.  
Po pulled up right in front of the house.  He got out of the car and closed the door.  Mason watched the

man walked over to the glass door.  That's when he noticed that this man's skin was blue.  And he was at

least seven feet tall.

"Da...fuuuuuck?" Mason whispered to himself.

Mason slowly got out of the car and followed Po.  Po walked up to the glass door and knocked.  The blue

man smiled and began laughing as well.

"You think you're the first person to try that?" the blue man asked sarcastically.

The blue man opened the door.  Po walked in.  When Mason walked in, it was as if he felt like he was

entering another world.  There was an inscense burning that made Mason wish that everything in the world

could smell what he was smelling.  It was a pure smell like a baby, but there was a sweet and warm

cinnamon smell as well.  But this was only initial.  As he moved through the house and noticed that nearly

all of the tables were glass, he smelled a hint of desire in the inscence.  It made Mason think of the two

girls in the Red Taurus.  There was a feeling of lust and power overcoming Mason as he walked through the

house.  He felt like he was being revealed something that very few people were ever get to see.  But he

felt entitled to see it.  Mason felt like he was "chosen" for this very moment.

The blue man closed the door.  He followed Mason and Po into the living room.  It was beautiful.  Most of

the funiture was white with gold trim.  There was a painting of a golden bird flying upward into the sky

on the wall.  The bird seemed to be bursting from underneath the ground, flying into the sky.  As Mason

looked closer, he noticed that the bird was on fire.  

"Have a seat, my friend," the blue Man said to Po and Mason.  "I hope that your health has been good and

your family is okay."

They both sat down.  As the blue man sat down, Mason noticed that he had African features.  His lips were

curved.  His nostrils flared like an African.  His head was bald, making it even harder to tell what

nationality he most resembled, but if Mason had to guess, he looked African.

"Would you like some Alkaline water?" asked the blue man.

Mason felt a little uncomfortable drinking or eating anything coming from a blue man.  However, he didn't

want to be rude, so he said,

"Sure, but what's alkaline water?"

The blue man and Po began laughing at the same time.  "You're going to put him on to the alkaleezy?" Po

asked while grinning.

Mason felt like a rookie.  He had no idea what alkaline meant.  He had heard the word before, but had no

idea what it meant.  The blue man laughed again.  "Yeah, I guess we can let him see what it do."

"Stand up," the blue man said.

Mason looked around and felt uncomfortable.  A sense of nervousness came over him.  Why do they have to

keep fucking with me?

Mason stood up.  The woman came through the door looked like a sex goddess.  Mason couldn't tell if he was

Indian, Egyptian, Pakistanian, or from the Carribean.  She had spanish features, but she definetly was not

a latina.  Mason's mouth fell open.  She was carrying two water bottles.  Her curves appeared to be hand

drawn.  She was perfect.  Her long black hair was feathered and fell into the perfect hairstyle.  She was

dressed in an all white leotard, as if she was about to go work out.  She handed Mason a bottle of water.  

Then she handed Po a bottle of water.  "Hi guys."

Po opened his bottle.  "Peace, Auset.  How have you and your family been?"

"Peace be unto you, brother Poemoe.  I have been very well.  And my family has been very well.  Thank you

for asking.  How have you been and how has your family been?"

"I have been fine.  My family has been great.  Broke.  But great, healthwise."

"That's good, Pomoe," the blue man stated.  "Remind them that the healthiest man is the richest man."

Mason was completely in awe of what he was witnessing.  The music changed frequency.  That's when Mason

noticed that music was even playing.  There was a very soft, contaigious piano riff playing in the back

ground.  The sound of slow romantic violin strings surrounded the piano riffs and made an inseperable pair

that hypnotized Mason.  It was beautiful.  He wished that he could have "sampled" it.  

Mason took the bottle in one hand.  The woman stood about three feet away from Mason.  She put her arms

straight out, signaling for Mason to do the same.  Mason smiled, and put his arms straight out, parallel

to hers.  She reached over and gave a quick tug on Mason' left hand.  He stumbled and quickly caught his

balance.  "Shit!"

Po laughed and opened a bottle of alkaline water.

"Okay, now sip the water," the blue man commanded.

Mason opened the bottle and gulped the cold water down.  It felt like silk entering his body, sending

goosebumps up his arms.  

"Okay, now put your arms back out," said Po.

Mason smiled and put his arms out again.  The woman pulled his arm again, even harder than before.  Mason

didn't move.  

He felt completely balanced.  His nostrils opened up and he felt his breathing improve.  There was some

flem tingling in the back of his throat.  "Wow."

"That's that alkaleezy," Po stated as he sipped some of his water.

Mason coughed up the flem and walked over to the glass table.  He picked up the kleenex box and took out a

tissue.  He spit into the tissue and tossed it into the white and gold waste basket next to the glass

table.  The woman walked over and sat next to the blue man.

"Yes, alkaline water balances the body.  You didn't even know that you were not balanced until you became

balanced.  Life kind of works the same way.  Now that you are balanced, Mason, how do you feel?"

Mason shook his neck and felt it pop.  "I feel great.  I wish I could drink that stuff all the time."

"And what did you think of the information that Po shared with you?"

At that moment, Mason noticed a cardinal land on the branch of a tree outside the window next to him.  The

bird jumped from branch to branch, turning his head.  It appeared as if the bird was listening to what

Mason as going to say.

"I thought it was..." Mason felt himself about to say that it was crazy.  "It was good information.  But I

believe that everybody has their own beliefs, and if that's what helps you get through your day, then more

power to you."

"And what helps you get through your day?" the blue man asked.  Auset sat back in her seat.  She observed

Mason and seemed to be analyzing him.  "His agent is strong," she whispered to the blue man.

"Shit, kush.  Can I sit down now?"

"Of course," the blue man said.  "What do you think about the idea of all of your enemies really being

Agent Smith?"

Mason sat down and thought about it.  The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.  He kept

getting image of his enemies turning into Agent Smith, then attacking him.  He was fighting Smith in his

mind's eye.

"It makes a lot of sense.  It kind of shows me that I have the power to control a sitution before it gets

out of hand.  I'm the one who's really in charge.  It's all how I percieve it.  I don't have to give in to

the agent if I don't want to, because all they are trying to do is turn me into an agent anyway.  Damn.  I

think I really get it now.  It's like agents, turning people into more agents.  But it's still my choice

how I want to react.  The problem is choice."

Mason couldn't believe that he was able to verbalize this thought so well.  Something about this blue man

was making Mason have big ideas and concepts.  He felt a lot smarter.

"Yes.  The problem is choice.  Some people think that all of our choices are illusions.  And for some

people that's true.  About eighty-five percent of people.  Ten percent of people know that they have a

choice, but still choose to hand their power of choice over to Babylon.  There is only five percent of

people who actually have the true power of choice.  It is an honor to be among this five percent, because

technically speaking, it's really only three percent now.  In life, you only have two choices."

Mason thought to himself.  Seem's pretty simple.

"I'm not going to tell you what those two choices are, but I will ask you this.  Now that you know that

all of your enemies are really one person, do you still want the work?"

Mason sat back in his chair.  He did not intend on being asked that question.  What kind of question was

that?  Of course I still want the work.  That's what I drove all this way for.

"Of course I still want the work," Mason replied.  "Why else would I come all this way?  I mean, like I

said.  Everybody has their own beliefs, but I believe in money."  He laughed.


Po and the blue man looked at each other.  Auset looked at the blue man.  Then she looked at Mason.  

"Mason, God made you a promise.  But there are certain things that you have to understand if you want to

recieve that promise certain things that you have to do while you are here.  But you're not going to be

able to do those thing if you don't see things from a certain perspective.  We are trying to get you to

see things from a different perspective.  So you don't make the wrong choices.  You have to understand,

the lower self, or the agent, really, really, really thinks that he is you.  And in times of desperation,

you'll think that he is too.  When my husband asked you that question just now, there was an inner

reflection that was supposed to happen inside yourself.  It forces you to look at yourself and the choices

that you are making.  YOu didn't do that."

Mason felt like he was being lectured.  "Yes I did.  And the conclusion that I came to was, 'Why else

would I drive this far if I'm not going to take the work?"

The tree ouside the window seemed to shake from the force of the wind.  The cardinal hopped up one branch

and took of flying.  As it took off, it let out three chirps that could be heard drowning out into the

distance.

The blue man and Po looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.  The blue man turned and nodded to

Auset, who instinctively got up and walked back through the door she entered from.  The blue man stood up

and stretched.  He let out a loud yawn and began scratching his butt.  He turned and looked at Mason.

"What is the only thing that can defeat death, Mason?"

Mason looked down at the floor as his mind searched for an answer.  He wanted to say, 'God', but he

figured that everybody has prayed to God and asked not to die.  So what was the answer?

"I don't know," Mason replied.

"Po?" the blue man asked.

"Resurrection," Po replied.

Auset emerged from the doorway again, with a brown paper bag.  She placed the bag on the glass table that

was in front of the three men.  After opening the bag, she reached into the bag and pulled out what seemed

to be a kilo of cocaine.  It seemed like it was all happening in slow motion.  Mason had never even seen a

kilo of cocain before, and before he could wrap his mind around seeing one for the first time, she was

pulling out a second one.  Mason felt his heart beating hard in his chest as all of his dreams began

racing through his mind.  

Man, wait til I hit the block with this shit!

"Po is going to watch you very closely, Mason," the blue man stated.  "He is going to make sure that I get

the proper return on my investment.  He is going to discuss all of the details with you.  If you remember

that all of your enemies are one person, then you should be okay.  Do you have any questions?"

Mason only had one question.

"Nigga, who the fuck are you?"

"I am Ausar.  Welcome to the underworld."

Link for Chapter X, The Grand Finale