by Manu Amun
Chapter 7
It was another early start to the day. And we hit the road headed toward Arizona being only a day’s drive away. The sky in New Mexico was amazing. Driving down 40-West the skyline looked like a painting, unreal and almost in arms length. The landscape was breathe taking, ruddy red rocky cliffs that gave the impression that they were sculpted at the beginning of time; never bring touched giving a glimpse of perfection. The New Mexico scenery was definitely relaxing amidst all the uncertainty that surrounded our journey which had been quiet outside of the random checkpoint but we passed them without incident learning the routine from our first stop. It seemed our father’s plans to get us to Arizona was working, avoiding stopping in major cities which took us longer but was safer being that they received the most attention from the government. It was genius when thought about it; I mean who heads to Arizona for refuge. As we crossed the Arizona border we saw how different this place was.
“I think I just saw a tumbleweed blow by.” Bilal said.
“This place is hot! Why did the temperature just jump from 60 to 80 degrees in like five seconds?” I said.
“I am going to need some food we have eaten since we left New Mexico and that was a gas station; you have me surviving off of snacks. I need some real food, can we find like a salad shop or something outside of a Subway which seems to be all they have out here.” Nyema complained.
“If you have not noticed there is nothing out here Nyema, this is not D.C. I think Subway owns all of the rest stops in the Southwest.” My mother said.
“We will stop at the next place which seems to be Cambers, AZ.” My father said.
“If I see another Subway I am going to scream.” Nyema said.
“I have $20 bucks she screams.” Bilal said.
“I am not taking that bet, Subway is making a killing out here.” I replied.
“Next time you plan on driving across the country can we make sure we bring better food?” Nyema said to our parents.
“We will do our best, perhaps next time it will be under better circumstances.” My father replied.
“I see the tension is slowly subsiding.” My father said.
“It is just us being antsy. We have been in the car for four days straight, your madness is contagious.” Bilal said.
“Well, there is the next rest stop Nyema.” My father told her.
“Humph, just keep driving.” She said folding her arms.
“I told you I wasn’t taking that fool’s bet Bilal.” I said.
“I was hoping that being stuck in this car had affected your judgment.” He said.
“Keenness never takes a day off.” I told him.
“There is always the next rest stop.” My father said.
“Whatever daddy.” Nyema responded.
“I am just saying.” He continued.
“Just let her be, Nyema just hold tight we have something and you know that you can get a salad from Subway.” My mother said.
“No, I’m good.” She said.
This was more like us, I was not sure if it was the change of location or just the removal of all the pressure of traveling across the country with the potential enslavement in a concentration camp upon the horizon.
“There may be more options in Flagstaff, AZ.” My father said.
As we moved further down the never ending road which was I-40 West the backdrop that was beyond the Right of Way was changing from desert to Pine trees. It was unexpected because I was sure there was no vegetation in Arizona it was good to know I was wrong.
“Ok, I found a spot in town that serves pizza and a salad.” My mother told us.
“That’s a weird combination but it is better than all the other options.” Nyema said.
“Yeah Subway, Subway, and subway.” Bilal said.
After eating our food we got back into the car and made our way for the homestretch. There were moments of holding on to the edge of seat as we road down a mountain into the valley.
“Jesus take the wheel.” Bilal said.
“Stop playing boy.” Nyema said.
I sent Bilal a text:
I am not afraid to die but am not sure I want that day to be today.
He responded:
You should have driven because you learned from mom. I do not know who taught this guy.
Regardless, we made it. Once we got out the car in Phoenix, AZ, I felt the heat punch me in the face like a prizefighter. I was not fan of the cold but your body could not be prepared for 90 degrees in January.
"So this is where the magic happens?" Nyema asked.
She had no idea how much truth was in that comment. I have had experience meditating with my parents, we each did but I took the most liking to it because of the peace I was able to attain through my sessions. My brother and sister had their own experiences but lacked the discipline to carry out the meditation session every day. Whether it was sports for Bilal or cheer leading with Nyema, they had a lot on their plate. But for me I was consumed with this knowledge as it was all I knew and was what I was good at.
I had three uncles who I worked with monthly. Each weekend was spent at one of their houses back home where we would participate in different lessons. I was the oldest so I felt the need to set the example which was a rigorous work ethic. It was seen by both my uncle and my peers.
I was not sure when they were coming so of course I asked my father as soon as we finished unpacking at our motel room a few miles from the highway.
"Dad, when are my uncles Musa, Ra-Sta, and El Ra Sun coming?" I asked.
"They are taking different routes but we are all going to meet here, that's the plan." he replied.
"And do not worry about the rest of our family, they should be safe. They have no spiritual leaning at this level where they would be considered any threat to the government and they have no knowledge of the depths of which we are engaged either." my father stated.
“Skylar cannot get here so enough I am so sick of dealing with you all by myself.” Nyema said.
“Not so easy without your partner in crime I see.” Bilal said.
“I have never had a problem handling you.” Nyema answered with a punch for added effect.
“I am just excited to see what we are going to be doing here. Dad better crack open the book on the Kabbalah.” I said.
“He has held that close to the vest since we were little only giving us crumbs along the way.” Bilal said.
“Well, he did say his hand was forced by the movements of the world government.” Nyema said.
“I think this is going to be what we have done before on steroids. We on our Barry Bonds, just have to knock it out the park.” I told them.
I think we all looked forward to seeing them and continuing our lessons but we had work to do beforehand. My father was a heavily influenced in kabalistic studies which shaped his life. Although never formally trained in Judaic studies, my father's understanding of the Kabbalah was unparalleled. He grasped the knowledge of the Kabbalah like he had already learned it in a past life before this one and excelled in its understanding currently. I knew that the Kabbalah would play a role somehow.
