Lenora's Fiction Archive

The Dream part 3

We pulled up to the pad at 8 P.M., just as the sun was starting to set -- good thing as I was not ready to try night driving. Mike opened the door and held it for me as I walked in carrying a huge bag of food from a take-out place.

"FOOD!!!!" Micky cried as he slid down the banister, landing just a few inches away from me and grabbing the bag.

"Food?" Peter asked, stepping off the bandstand where heíd been working on a song.

"Food?" Davy echoed as he walked in from the beach.

"Yes, food. Donít forget to set five places Davy," Mike drolled.

"I know, I know. Petah, make sure Micky doesnít sneak away all the fries!" Davy called over his shoulder as he grabbed utensils and dinnerware.

"Donít even think about it shotgun," I growled from behind Micky as I spotted him trying to pour more fries onto his plate. He whirled.

"Hey! Stop imitatiní Mike!" he cried and threw a fry at me.

Several minutes later, miraculously, the food was out and we sat down to eat.

"So, since when do you say Ďshotguní?" Mike asked suddenly, nearly causing me to splort my soda.

"Oh . . . not long. Um, you remember when I said that all this only existed in a TV show? Well, thatís something I picked up from that show."

"And was this show about four young, handsome men who were a band together and always looking for work?" Davy asked slyly, again trying to win me over. I swear I saw stars twinkling in his eyes.

"Yes. The actors could be your twins. They even had the Monkeemobile!" I said, deliberately ignoring Davyís advances.

The rest of the dinner was spent in silence while the guys mulled over what Iíd said. After dinner Peter gently shoved me over to his spot on the bandstand, gave me his bass, and whispered a few song titles to Mike before moving to the sink to wash the dishes.

"Peter taught you quite a bit on the bass, did he? Well, letís start off with ĎWords,í okay?"

I nodded, sliding on the finger picks Peter had adjusted to the right size for my smaller fingers and quickly tuned the bass. "Ready."

Mike counted us off, and I concentrated on the bass part, hardly hearing any Mickyís vocals. This was the first time Iíd played with all of them, instead of just Peter playing the lead guitar part. I kind of liked it!

After the song finished, Mike asked, "What other songs have you learned so far?"

Peter answered for me, walking over to the bandstand. "She knows the new bass part I added to ĎIím A Believerí." He headed over to the keyboard and quickly ran through a complicated classical piece to warm up.

" ĎIím A Believerí it is. Count us off, Pete."

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"Youíve picked up on the bass very well Len. When are you gonna show that kind of talent on the drums?" Micky asked me several hours later.

"I dunno. Itís not like Iím not trying . . . I'm just having a tough time coordinating two separate rhythms," I said forlornly. I was already able to play nearly half a dozen songs on bass but I could barley sustain a simple bass drum rhythm.

"Hey, donít look so down, babe! Not everyone was cut out to be a drummer! Shoot ya for the shower!" We shot fingers and I won. I showered quickly and curled up under the covers while Micky took his shower. When he finished, he walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Thereís a wonderland for Alice, thereís a tall beanstalk for Jack, the sleepy train will take you there, so safely down the track. With the sandman at the throttle, youíll be off to dreams and back, itís pillow time again," he sang. I was asleep in minutes.

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Created by Lenora McCoy

Last updated 13 OCT 98

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