Lenora's Fiction Archive

The Dream part 4

"Ready to play castaway and potential Daddy?" Peter asked Micky and me as we stumbled down the stairs the next morning. We both just grumbled and sat down to eat -- chocolate chip pancakes.

"Donít even bother tryiní to talk to them Pete. Theyíre not awake enough to understand what youíre sayiní," Mike said over his newspaper.

"They certainly make perfect relatives," Peter chuckled.

"Who makes perfect relatives?" Davy asked as he stepped into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Who do you think?" Mike groaned and pointed to me and Micky, pouring orange juice into our bowls of cornflakes.

"Oh." Davy sat down and started to help himself to cereal.

After breakfast, we headed to the county office to try and get me a birth certificate. We were called in to see a clerk after weíd waited a few hours.

"So, you were shipwrecked and you donít have any identification whatsoever. Do you remember your age?"

I made a face and thought hard. "Um . . . I think I was old enough to drive . . . I seem to remember a few driving lessons."

"She certainly did have some driving experience -- I took her to a parking lot in our car yesterday and she did very well with very little instruction," Mike added.

The clerk sized me up for a minute. "Weíll put your age down as eighteen then. Legal driving age in California." He scribbled something down on a notepad. "Now, for a name. You donít remember anything of your name?"

I made a "thoughtful" face. "It started with an L . . . I think. Thatís all I remember."

"Weíve been calling her Lenora," Peter supplied.

"Lenora Dolenz, since she and Micky get along really well," Davy added.

"Would you like to adopt that as your name?" the clerk asked.


"Spell it."

"L - e - n - o - r - a - D - o - l - e - n - z." The clerk scribbled that down.

"Well, then, just choose a birth date . . . unless you can remember that!"

"Nope. Um . . . Iíd like it to be November seventeenth, please."

The clerk noted it down. "Okay. Come back in . . . " he looked at his watch, "three hours to get a copy of your new birth certificate."

We thanked the clerk and left. As we climbed into the Monkeemobile, Mickyís stomach let our a loud rumble.

"Time for lunch anyone?" Micky chuckled as he helped me climb into the trunk -- our favourite spot. We could turn around and make fun of other drivers from there.

"Well it is noon. Iím surprised you didnít pull that in there," Mike drawled.

We stopped at the grocery store on the way home. When we got back to the Pad, we all chipped in to cook up a celebratory lunch of chili and Peterís special recipe root beer floats.

"So after we get that birth certificate, wanna swing by the DMV before they close to get you a learnerís permit?" Mike asked.

"Sounds good to me!"

So after lunch we left Peter and Micky to clean up, and Davy headed to the beach, while Mike and I drove back to the county office.

"Here you go Miss Dolenz. Going to try and get your drivers license?" the clerk asked as he handed over my new birth certificate.

"As soon as I get some more practice with the whale of a car these guys own!" I giggled.

"I see. Good luck!"

Mike then drove straight to the DMV and, once inside, strode straight to the nearest DMV worker and asked, "I need to get a learnerís permit for my niece here."

"Get in that line," the man said in a bored tone, pointing to a very short line. After a five minute wait, a clerk handed us a form and asked to see my birth certificate.

"Do you have your social security card?"

"Uh, whoops. I . . . forgot it at home," I lied. In truth, we hadnít even thought about getting one of those!

"Youíll need it when you get your actual license, but for this, itís not that important. Fill out the form and bring it to the cashierís window."

Less than half an hour later, I steered the Monkeemobile into the driveway of the Pad. We walked in and I was immediately tackled by Micky.

"Didja get it? Didja get it?" he cried.

"Oof. Get off me! I canít breathe! Yes, I got it. Iíll show it to you if you let me up!" I groused. He hopped up and helped me up. Mike pulled out the birth certificate, which Iíd asked him to hold on to for safekeeping, and I pulled out the learnerís permit.

"One thing we forgot, though, was a social security number. Weíll look into that in the morning. For now, Iím goiní to the beach, and I believe you have a bass lesson," Mike drawled and pointed to me. He grabbed an acoustic guitar and headed out to the beach. Davy, already in his swim trunks, grabbed a towel and followed suit -- and within minutes we could see him going after a leggy blonde, trying to pick her up.

"You gonna hang around and provide the beat, Mick?" Peter asked as he handed me the bass and grabbed Mikeís 6-string for himself.

"Sure man!" Micky said and bounded over to the bandstand, sitting down at his spot behind the drums.

"What song are we workiní on now?" I asked.

"A new one I just wrote. I donít have a title yet but Iím thinking you and I could do the vocals -- Iíll do lead and you can do harmony. So far Iíve just written parts for guitar, bass, and drums." Peter pulled out several sheets of paper and handed one to Micky and four pages to me.

"Woah . . . youíre not askiní for much, are ya big Peter?" I said as I slowly deciphered the pages of bass notation.

Peter laughed. "Well, I was writing it for me at first but youíve been picking up the bass so well, I think you can handle it. Then I can take the lead guitar and give Mike rhythm guitar -- instead of trying to teach Davy rhythm guitar."

"Teach DAVY rhythm? Good thing Lenniís here now! Davy could never handle it! You might as well try and teach Izzy!"

Izzy? Ohmigod. Iím in Madameís universe . . . but why havenít I run into her yet?

"Yeah. Hey, isnít she supposed to be getting home from her conference today? She hasnít met Lenora yet!"

"Yup," Micky exclaimed.

"Oh, Lenora -- I want you to sing an octave higher than me to start. Iím not sure exactly what I want for the vocal arrangements yet so letís just try an octave for now."

"Gotcha." I pulled out the lyrics sheet to read it . . . and as I did, I recognized the song.

"Long Title." It was "Long Title."

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Created by Lenora McCoy

Last updated 13 OCT 98

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