Chapter Three, Part Five

After he was satisfied that all the best legal and private detective help were focused on the long process of finding his son and getting him back, Michael got into his car and drove straight down highway one, crossing the border at Tijuana, Baja the next morning. Luckily Michael had from Dr. Wennesland a bottle of Dexedrine to keep himself awake and so he only stopped for gas. He continued driving down through the deserts of Baja until he came to an area near a fishing town famous for its whales.

Gurerro Negro was on the Pacific side of Baja and not far from the turn where the highway took you over the ridge of mountains in the center of the Baja peninsula. Some of the steepest roads and the most beautiful views in Mexico were there. Once over the Mountain Bowen made the crossing by ferry over the Sea of Cortez to the beautiful town of Mazatlan, and there the highway kept going directly south to Mexico city and Tepoztlan. “As I drove I couldn’t quieten my mind; I only knew that I had to and had in fact escaped Gringolandia and reach the wisest man I had ever met because I had the biggest problem I ever had. I knew that eventually my other friends would come there too and that was a kind of comfort that we would be able to act together again. After the long, long drive and the trillions of thoughts wrapped in unknown emotions covered in new hatred , wrapped again in a cocoon of self protection, I could at last say Buenos Tardes when I arrived at John’s house.”

“Hey Gringo” Painting by Bowen

John immediately made him lie down. Michael could not close his eyes and he told John that he could not close his eyes. John, the master, laughed and waved his hand in front of Michael’s face. Michael must have slept for two days but when he awoke, his mind was fresh and clear. There was music and laughter everywhere. The way of the warrior had led him back home to One, the Mexican house in Tepoztlan and its jungle of flower and fruit trees. The artist felt secure at last. Here he was in the valley of the waterfalls, which was now where the headquarters of the commander in chief had been moved. This beautiful valley, home to humans for thousands of years, framed by its thousand foot waterfalls with the snow capped volcanoes brilliant in the sunlight at the very end of the Valley, had produced not only the man-God Quetzalcoatl in its misty origins, but in the very early fifties was the place where Fidel Castro lived and obtained his inspiration to free the now 9 million people of Cuba.

By the time Michael arrived at John’s beautiful house, he had developed not only a plan to save his child, but he became inspired by remembering a story he had learned long ago as a child. That story is the pied piper of Hamelin, an ancient Medieval story about how a good man, albeit a slight bit eccentric, who had a magic way with the flute was treated cruelly and unfairly by the population of a European town. The town had become infested with rats and no one was able to get rid of them. The Mayor of Hamelin offered 1,000 gold coins to anyone who could rid the town of the rodent infestation. So, a colorfully costumed man took up the challenge, played his flute and enticed all the rats to the edge of a cliff where they then jumped into the river and drowned. The Mayor said that he did not think that the flute player had really earned the 1,000 gold coins by just playing the flute and offered him 50 coins instead. The costumed flute player demanded full payment or nothing but the mayor and the rest of the city refused to pay him more than 50 coins since their rat problem was now gone. On the next Sunday, while all the bigoted and fascist townspeople were in church, the costumed pied piper played his flute in such a way that all the children of Hamelin, all 130 of them, felt uncontrollably attracted to the sweet sounds of his flute and followed the pied piper out of the town of hypocrisy and cruelty and into a better life and another world filled with song, dance, peace, and love.
As Bowen relaxed on the cool veranda of John’s typical Mexican house, he began to think again about what went though his mind as he drove alone through the beautiful and deadly deserts of Sonora and the dusty little towns on highway 15 that would lead Bowen through what would become his second favorite city on earth, Mexico City. On the veranda, Michael began the process of slowing down. After a few weeks of rest in Tepoztlan the natural energy of the people in the village, much like a Wilhelm Reich orgone accumulator, was beginning to be absorbed by Bowen. In this new calm consciousness, he could begin to sort his confused emotions and thoughts. It is a natural healing practice for anyone who has been emotionally traumatized to need a collective will, a surrounding thought process of love. The collective healing and calming energy of the people of Tepoztlan allowed Michael to swiftly sort through the confused , powerful, dangerous, and potentially successful series of thoughts that gathered together during the entire progression of being suspected as a criminal, physically attacked as a witch, and losing the most valuable thing he possessed, his child. The mystic flavor of the town provides one who can be open to it a complete healing of the blocking scar tissue of hatred and attack. Michael allowed himself the needed time for self-reflection after a series of years of attacks against himself, his family, and his close beat-generation friends And

‘When the moon of sorrow sets, the dawn follows in its season, to light the path of the twice-born.’

no better place in the world to relax than at John’s classic Mexican house situated in the picturesque valley of Tepoztlan, intermingling with the Tepoztecans. After a few weeks of rest and introspection in Tepoztlan, Michael would soon be mentally and physically ready for the most transformative experience of his life. This experience was to take the form of an initiation into an ancient mystic group. Michael was readying himself and would soon be initiated into the Aztec banquet of the magic flower. group. Michael was readying himself and would soon be initiated into the Aztec banquet of the magic flower.

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