Fifteen years later.
Three hundred and seventy miles, or so, left.
A boy and his sister are on their way to California.

Starting from Phoenix, Arizona.
They were on the Loop 101,
when they begin talking.

“Charles Manson is the only man who
scares me for who he is.
How could someone brainwash people like that?”

They cruise down Interstate Highway 10.
Headed to the heart of Hollywood.
To the darkness of the starry city.

“I can’t wait for you to see the museum.
You’ll love it to death.
Get it? To death!”

Finally on Hollywood boulevard.
Where the stars on the sidewalk stop,
is where the darkness begins.

“Here we are.
The Museum of Death.
Get ready, this is heavy stuff.”

In one of the rooms, there is a bunk bed.
The bunk bed has two mannequins dressed in black
and there is a t.v. that is playing an initiation tape.

The boy is speechless.
He doesn’t want to watch the tape
but the cadence of the voice is so sincere.

The Heaven’s Gate exhibit is one of the things
that stuck in the mind of the boy.
“That really happened.”