We returned to the Pad the next evening exhausted. I now had plenty of clothes . . . and the guys were all joking that Peter and I had the same warped taste in fashion, since much of what I’d gotten were brightly-coloured Nehru shirts like Peter leaned towards. I’d bought myself a spool of beading wire, one of 5-lb fishing line, three beading needles, some fabric glue for covering pointed wire and fishing line ends, many different kinds of findings and a good-sized supply of beads. We’d moved on to the music store then, where Mike got guitar strings of every kind for each of the three guitars, Davy bought a pair of blue maracas (I suspected his choice was to try and win me over since blue is my favourite colour), Micky fooled around for an hour and finally ended up with a pair of drumsticks, Peter got some finger picks in my size and another set for himself plus some blank sheet music and I just looked around and enjoyed Micky’s antics.
After the music store it was on to shop for clothes. All four of them decided to buy some clothes for me so in the end, I had ten Nehru shirts, moccasin boots, black cowboy boots, pants of different colours to go with the Nehru shirts, several pairs of flares, a swimsuit, a few pairs of pajamas, and some other essentials.
We got home just in time to start making dinner. Peter and Mike headed for the kitchen after putting the strings, picks, and sheet music away on the bandstand. Micky tossed his new drumsticks onto his snare from fifteen feet away and sprang up the stairs with many of my packages. Davy and I followed at a slower pace, then Davy went downstairs to set the table. Micky helped me hang all of my new clothes up in one side of his closet, which we now shared, and put the rest into the one drawer in his dresser that he’d cleared out for me.
"HEY GUYS!" Isa called from the front door. Micky ran out and slid down the banister. Grinning, I followed suit.
"What is it beautiful?" Mike asked, sweeping her into his arms.
"We’re going to Hawaii!"
"WHAT?!" everyone screamed.
"Yes. I didn’t tell you but a couple of weeks before I went to my conference I secretly recorded one of your rehearsals and entered it into a contest . . . and you’ve made it to the semifinals in Hawaii!"
"Yahoo!!!!" Mike roared.
"When do we leave?" I asked.
"Three days. The contest is from the fourth through the sixth of February. We’ll be back on the seventh."
"We’ll have to talk to MacTavish then. I hate to leave so soon after signing on . . . " Mike said.
"But we’re leaving for a contest . . . I’m sure he won’t mind!" Davy said.
"True," Mike said.
"Well I think this calls for a celebration!" Micky cried.
"I’ve got a cake next door," Isa said . . . and Micky had her in his arms and was carrying her to her Pad in seconds.
After we’d spent the night celebrating and enjoying the huge "Congratulations" cake Isa had bought, Mike drove over to the Club Cassandra early the next morning. MacTavish had not just been understanding, he’d been downright enthusiastic. He said that if we won he’d double our pay. The rest of that day and most of the next were spent packing. We didn’t have many suitcases between the six of us so we doubled up. Peter and I were going to share shirts, as were Micky and Mike. Davy just brought a couple of Nehru jackets and shirts, and we all brought swimsuits.
The morning of February 3rd dawned bright and sunny. We all bounded out of bed earlier than normal, except for our resident early bird Peter. Most of our luggage and instruments were already in the car. Having decided to present a unified image as we stepped off the plane, we all wore our charcoal gray flares and blue 8-button shirts, with Mike and I in cowboy boots, Micky in gymshoes, Peter in moccasins and Davy in his favourite elevator shoes. Isa staggered in a half hour before we planned to leave, coffee mug in hands.
"Ready to go win ourselves a contest?" Mike drawled at nine A.M. sharp.
"YES!"
"Well then let’s go."
The ride to the airport took only ten minutes and we had plenty of time to wander around before our ten-thirty flight. We boarded at ten and, for once, took off on time.
"Aw man, this is groovey!" Micky cried as he discovered how to use the headset on his armrest.
"Doesn’t take much to make him happy huh?" Isa leaned across the aisle to ask me. I giggled.
We took up an entire row. Peter was in the window seat at the right-hand side. Micky was next to him, and I was on the aisle. Across the aisle was Isa, with Mike next to her and Davy in the other window seat. Isa and I had insisted on the aisle seats as both of us hated airplanes.
The long flight passed quickly, much faster than any airplane flight I’d ever taken. I reasoned it was because I was with Micky and Peter, who managed to keep my mind off of the fact that I was on an airplane, thousands of feet in the air. Mike talked the Captain into a brief tour of the cockpit for Micky, Peter and I. We got flight wings, like the little kids usually did, and Micky was beaming ear to ear as he pinned mine on the collar of my shirt. Micky told stories and jokes throughout the flight and when he fell asleep for a short nap, Peter pulled out a bit of string and showed me different string games like cat’s cradle.
We stepped off the plane in Hawaii to see a beautiful vista of volcanic mountains. We were met in the airport by a representative of the contest who drove us to the hotel after we’d claimed our luggage and instruments.
We had a double-suite. There were three queen-size beds, one of which was a pull out couch. We decided that Mike and Micky would share one, Peter and Davy another, and Isa and I would take the pull-out couch since it was in a different room.
Exhausted from the early morning and plane flight, we all decided to take a nap. The contest and other events relating to it weren’t until the next day. We all fell asleep in minutes and didn’t wake up until nearly dinnertime.
Last updated 13 OCT 98
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