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Mainor, "What?"

"We got nothing on anyone. The big fish, the guy running this whole thing, we don't know his
name, we don't know what he looks like. He's a fucking ghost, and if he ain't, we might as well be
chasing one." Mainor replies, "Don't worry, we're smarter than them." After a few seconds of
silence Ryan says, "You know it wasn't smarts, we just got lucky." Mainor replies, "I know." The
drugs they had previously seized should have been credited to random luck as opposed to talent.

Mainor says, "Even if we don't know much about him, we know what he does and we know who
he associates himself with. All we gotta do is climb that ladder and we will eventually get to him."
Ryan replies, "Only thing is we won't stop these guys with just dumbluck."

One of the three men says, "Why you still got that gun? They can match that shit up if they get it."
The killer replies, "You really think they could take this shit off me? Them cops too dumb to even
notice what is going on around here." One of the three men who has not spoken yet finally says,
"Yeah that was them other cops. These niggas that just rolled up just now ain't dumb."

The killer asks him what makes him so sure they aren't dumb, to which he replies, "When two
white cops roll up you know they do it because they just hate us niggas, when two black cops show
up you know they do it because they look down on us and expect better, but when a black and a
white cop shows up, and they are as cool with each other as them two were, and they ain't all up in
our business hittin' us and shit for no reason, and they fucking actually respect us and talk about
sports, that's when you know somethin' ain't right. Them bitches are plannin' something and they
ain't dumb enough to let little shit come between them and the job."

Chapter 49:
1947

And then I woke up. I just had a dream where inside the dream I had a memory. A friend and I are
hammering nails into a wall when he asks me if I remember that one time Jason accidentally nailed
his index finger to the wall. I laughed and told him that I did, because I actually did. The thing is,
while I remember Jason, there was never actually a time when he nailed his own index finger to the
wall in this reality.

What this dream suggests is dream memory, that we can have thoughts of memories that never
happened in our reality in the dreams that we have. This idea is the very first thing that propelled
me to believe that our dreams are simply other versions of our lives.

As I'm writing down this dream, I run out of space and realize that I am writing on the last page of
this particular composition notebook. Marked number five-hundred, this means I have
five-hundred composition notebooks completely filled. Five-hundred notebooks each with
two-hundred pages, give or take due to the fact that I've ripped some pages out and have added
some from quickly scribbled-down notes.

I start to look for a new composition notebook to continue writing down my dream but can't seem
to find one, however, I am positive there is at least one around here somewhere as I always have an
extra.