Will Smith will save us, if only we let him

After I drove back from the oncologist, Will Smith sat me down in the middle of his palatial living room. We were looking out on the Pacific, a Malibu sunset winking at us.

“Look, all she knows about is blood markers, and T-cell counts right? Great! And that’s great! But who’s going to lift you to your highest vibration? Dr. Rosenblatt? I don’t think so. When has Dr. Rosenblatt gone to her astral plane?”

He was losing me. 

“Ok I can tell I’m losing you. When she says...Stage 4, it’s like ‘Stage 4 what?’ What if you’re in Stage 4 epiphany? What if you’re in Stage 4 bliss? What if your body just needs to catch up to your mind?” 

(He’s doing that thing where he talks with his arms and his hands, and they’re widening like wings and I just want to be in them.)

He said we needed to call in big guns, and I agreed. Once he pulled out his checkbook, I felt clearer. The world was rewarding us for our vision. 

“We need to talk to Cee Lo. I’ll take you out to the OC. He’s got a woman in celestine crystals.” 

“Are you sure Cee Lo’s crystals gal is it?”

“Cee Lo has gotten me through the lowest vibrations. Listen, he has this 100% fair trade tea...works miracles. You’ll wake up like nothing happened.”

Next thing I know, I’m in a canvas hood, it’s pitch black, and some very big men are helping me into an SUV. They grab my forearm from inside, and someone else pushes me up into the cool cab of what smells like a 2015 Escalade. 

This is nice. Will’s spared no expense. I feel appreciated even though I’m pissing myself about the hood on my head and where they’re taking me. But I know I’m going somewhere with answers so I don’t trip.

As we rolled down a quiet drive, I heard rocks crunch under the tires and a window lowering as someone punched a key code. A female voice: “Not much time. Come in.” A long beep. 

As I entered, the men snatched off the hood. I saw the back of silky cornrows and heard him sing, the man sitting on the sectional leather to the right of the foyer.

“I used to think that I could not...go onnnnn.” It was the Pied Piper himself. 

Allison Mack’s sitting there, with a sneer, and a pile of white powder on a glass coffee table. She was telling R. that he needed to download this track on Spotify. It reminded her of his early stuff. 

He wasn’t trying to hear it.

“Who’s this buster? You got his phone? Bring the bucket and sit his sloppy ass down.”

I wanted out. R.’s collar was ruffled, brow sweaty. They’d been up all night.

“Do you have the crystals? Will said -- “

“Who the f-ck is Will? You mean Star Gazer? We don’t go by those names. Let me ask you a life-or-death question: Can I trust you, friend?”

Allison was slight in figure but clanked down heavy words. She dragged her feet with every step across the marble floor, her Louboutin heels scraping a bastard melody.

“We had a lot riding on this Blue Ivy plug and she failed us. We want true believers, not moral cowboys, understand?”

I wasn’t following.

“Let me be clear. Blue was part of the sting op, and one of many, many fake friends, looking back.” 

Blue was no enemy of mine but Allison got beet red describing the betrayal. I shifted in the chaise so I could see her better and react quicker.

“We were about to break ground on a middle school. Spacey’s people had it all laid out. R Kelly and his reps were silent partners. Then everything hit, and we were in daily damage control mode. In hindsight, Azealia wasn’t the best person for that. But you know what they say about hindsight.” 

I trusted Will Smith with my life, but I was starting to question why. Allison Mack mentioned Cee Lo not once and maybe she wasn’t the crystals woman after all. 

What had he gotten me into? Did he have my best interest at heart? Where does Jaden figure in this? A rush of more questions than answers. 

“You’ve reached the Table of Masters. We rejected the physical to bring a new Self out of the shell. Soon, you can too. Behold, Queen Amundata. She is the power beyond the body.”

Out walks Lil Kim. I’m stunned at this point, because I’m like other than the 90s and boring ass names, what do Kim Jones and Will Smith have in common?

To be continued...