The Visit
By: Agent Newbeau

Part One

     He loved watching her sleep, especially early in the morning when 
things were still quiet.
That didn't last long so he had quickly learned to appreciate those 
moments. They had been
together four months and there were still times when he found it hard to 
believe that she was still
with him.
     He gently brushed a lock of her hair away from her face and kissed 
her cheek. She stirred, but
did not awaken. "I love you, Ellen," he whispered, but still she did not 
awaken.
     He remembered a dream he'd had the night before, a curious dream 
that troubled him. It had
been about two children, a boy and a girl, about age eleven or twelve. 
They were on a farm
and it was Springtime. Somehow, he recognized the children as him and 
Ellen, although upon
waking up, he found it strange.
     They had been playing and she was running, yelling, "Catch me, 
Marc." He ran after her,
but she always managed to stay just ahead of him. Finally, he caught up 
with her and as she
turned to face him, he knew something between them had changed.
     Then he woke up. He knew he had to write it all down before he 
forgot so he could tell
Ana about it. She was good at figuring out things like that. Somebody 
had to have the answers
and maybe it was her.
     Ellen woke and turned to Mike. "Good morning," she said. "Sleep 
well?"
     "Yeah," he said. He wasn't sure if he should tell her his dream. It 
was too hard to explain.
"Did you?"
     "Eventually," she said with a smile. "Despite the bad food, the bad 
service, and seeing all
those people, it was a pretty good birthday."
     "I'm glad you liked it," Mike said.  
"Uh, I think we need to talk.
Something happened that I need to tell you about."
     "What?" she asked, very concerned. 
     Before he could answer, the phone rang. "That's probably my 
mother," Ellen said,
reaching for the phone. "We can talk in a few minutes."
     "I'll be in the shower," Mike said and headed for the bathroom.
     She picked up the phone. "Hello? ...Oh, hi, Joey.... No, it's just 
that I was hoping it would
be my mother... No, my birthday was yesterday, you always were terrible 
with dates...Yes, I
meant that in many ways... I can't break my contract with you, I've 
already tried. Otherwise I
would be gone... How about a movie this time, Joey? I think I'm ready... 
I've already been to
New York, I lived there in 1964. I don't want to do it again... No, I'm 
busy tonight... Wait, I
better go, there's somebody at the door... No, he's in the shower. 
Goodbye, Joey." She hung up
the phone. "Drop dead, Joey."
     She put on her robe and went to answer the door.  She opened the door to find her mother standing there. 
"Oh, hi Mom," she
stammered. "What are you doing here?"
     "Do I need an excuse to visit my baby?" Judy Farnsby asked her 
daughter. "I'm sorry I
missed your birthday, I was hoping we could go out to breakfast or 
something and catch up. It's
been so long since we've done that."
     "Sure, Mom, that sounds great," Ellen said. "Does it have to be 
this morning? I just got up
and I have a million things to do today and..."
    The bedroom door opened and Mike emerged fresh from his shower and 
wearing only a towel.
"Have you seen my razor?" he asked, then he noticed Ellen wasn't alone. 
 Looking
down, he was relieved to see that the towel was securely tied and 
hopefully would stay on. He
didn't need to do anything else to embarrass himself or Ellen right 
then. He noticed she was
blushing and under any other circumstance he would have thought it cute. 
Right now he just
wanted to get out of there.
     Ellen felt her cheeks grow warm and wished she had a rock to hide 
under. She would
have told her mother that Mike was there, but she hadn't told her mother 
about him yet. She
hadn't really meant to put it off, she had just been busy. She was in 
trouble.
     Judy stared at the man, not sure how to react. She had trusted 
Ellen, had done her best to
be a good mother and now it was all for nothing. There was a wet, naked 
man standing in front of
her and for once she was speechless. And very upset with her daughter.
     Several seconds passed and everyone grew more uncomfortable. No one 
said anything,
but it was clear that there would be questions later. Finally, Mike 
said, "I think I remember where
I left it." He quickly went back to the bathroom.
     "Who was that?" Judy asked, making an unsuccessful attempt to 
control her anger.
"Maybe your father and I should have kept a closer eye on you these last 
few years. I knew it was
a mistake to let you move out here."
     Ellen wasn't sure how to react. She knew she should have told her 
parents sooner about
Mike, but she just never found the right time. "That's Mike," she said.
     "Does he live here or just stop by for a shower?" Judy asked.
     "No, he doesn't live here," Ellen said. "He has his own place, it's 
just that he has three
roommates and it's a small house and I'm not a little girl anymore, Mom. 
I can take care of
myself."
     "I thought I raised you better than that, Ellen Jennifer. What 
would your father think if he
knew you'd taken up with some long haired boy you met God only knows 
where? He'd be very
upset. Why didn't you tell us before?"
     "Mom, please calm down. I meant to tell you, I just never got 
around to it. I've been busy
working and I was sick and besides, I wanted to tell you in person, but 
I sometimes I don't know
where you are. I didn't know you went to Spain until I got a postcard 
from you."
     "That's no excuse, Ellen," Judy said. 
     "Please give him a chance, Mom," Ellen pleaded. "He's a nice 
person, I'm sure you'll like him
once you get to know him."
     Judy seemed to think about it for a few moments. "Okay, he can come 
to breakfast with us."
     Ellen hugged her mother. "Thank you," she said. 
     Mike reemerged wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and his hat. "I 
guess I best get goin'," he said.
"The guys are probably wondering where I am. Besides, I'm sure you two 
have things to do
without me." He started for the door.
     Ellen stopped him. "Don't go, Mike. Mom is taking us to breakfast."
     "Okay," Mike said. "I really didn't have any other plans for today 
anyway. The guys are
probably still asleep and they know where I am anyway. I'll stay."
     "I'm going to go take a shower," Ellen said. "You two get 
acquainted." She started for the
bathroom.
     "Ellen, I think you're forgetting something," Judy said.
     Ellen turned to her mother. "What?"
     "Introductions, dear. Good manners, remember?" Judy said and no 
one, especially Mike,
missed the bit of snobbishness.
     "Oh, sorry," Ellen said. "Mike, this is my mother, Judy. Mom, this 
is Mike Nesmith. I'll
be in the shower."
     There was an awkward silence for what seemed like several minutes 
as Mike and Judy were
left alone when Ellen went to take a shower. Finally, Judy couldn't 
stand it any longer. "So,
you've been dating my daughter and this is the first I've heard of it. 
Just how long have you two
been dating?"
     "About four months now, I guess," Mike said. The day was turning 
out to be a bad one.
First that dream and now this. What next? "I'm surprised she didn't tell 
you before. I've heard a
lot about you. Nice to finally meet you."
     "Unfortunately, Mr. Nesmith, I have not heard anything about you 
from my daughter,"
Judy said. 
     "Well, that's not my fault," Mike said. "I'm sure Ellen was going 
to tell you about me, she
just never got around to it. She's been very busy lately. You should be 
very proud of her, she' s
very talented."
     "In what way?" Judy asked.
     "What do you mean by that?" Mike asked, shocked that she would ask 
such a question.
     "You know what I mean," Judy said. "It doesn't take a genius to 
figure out what happened
here last night. Ellen used to be such a good girl."
     "I think you should be talking to her about that, not me," Mike 
said.  "Times change, people 
change, but you can
be sure of one thing. I love your daughter very much and I would never 
do anything to hurt her."
     She started to say something, but before she could, Ellen came out. 
"I'm ready to go," she
said. Judy and Mike didn't say anything. "Everything okay here?" she 
asked, concerned.
     "I'm fine," Mike said.
     "Me, too," Judy said. 
     "Good, let's go," Ellen said. "I'm starved. Last night's dinner 
wasn't exactly filling."
     
Later at the restaurant...

     Mike felt out of place the second they entered the restaurant. It 
was a high priced fancy
place like the ones he had always dreamed of being able to go to, but 
never had the money to.
Now that he was in one, he wanted to leave. He felt like a bum in his 
t-shirt and jeans. He
expected the waiter to ask him to leave, but he didn't. Still, he 
couldn't shake the feeling that
people were staring at him. He wanted to explain that he didn't always 
dress like that, it was just
that those were the clothes he kept  at Ellen's for the rare occasions 
when he spent the night with
her.
     Then he realized what was happening. Judy was trying to embarrass 
him in front of Ellen
by going to someplace fancy. It wasn't going to work. He could play her 
game if need be.
     Ellen saw he was nervous and took his hand in hers. "Don't let it 
get to you, Mike," she
whispered so only he could hear. "Mom just doesn't want to admit that 
I'm an adult now and can
take care of myself."
     "She doesn't like me," Mike said.
     "I know that, but give her a chance. She's my mother."
     "Okay, just as long as she doesn't ask too many embarrassing 
questions."
     "She won't," Ellen assured him.
     She was wrong.
     As soon as they were seated and the waitress had taken their 
orders, Judy started asking
questions. She asked how they met and gave her the condensed version. No 
need to tell her
everything.
     "What do you do for a living, Mike?" Judy asked.
     He wanted to say, I look for work, but he figured that would not be 
the answer she
wanted to hear. "I'm a musician," he said. "Small time right now, but we 
work pretty steady."
     "We?"
     "I'm in a band with some friends. I play guitar and I've written a 
lot of our songs," Mike
told her. 
     "They're very good," Ellen said. "You should hear them sometime, 
Mom."
     "I don't think so," Judy said. "Today's music does not appeal to 
me. Tell me, Mike, do
you expect to be able to make a living that way?"
     "Well, people do," Mike said. "Besides, we work pretty steady 
sometimes and word does
get around."
     "When was the last time you worked?" Judy asked.
     It took a few moments to answer. "About two weeks ago, I guess," 
Mike said, trying to
hide his embarrassment. "We played at a party, I think. After a while 
they all sort of blur
together. All the same anyway. Bunch of teenagers, mostly girls, all 
screaming."
     "Just how much money do you make at these parties?" Judy asked.
     "Well, I don't really know," Mike said, growing more and more 
uncomfortable. "There's
four of us so we usually split the money, plus we have to set aside some 
for rent and stuff. Why
are you asking these questions?"
     "I just don't think you have the right kind of background for my 
daughter," Judy said.
     "Mom, please don't do this," Ellen said. "I don't care about money. 
I'm not like you." She
turned to Mike. "I'm sorry about this. I think we should leave."
     Mike didn't say anything, he was too mad. He sat, nervously 
twisting a napkin in his
hand. It was the only thing that kept him from hitting somebody.
     Judy, however, did not control her temper. "I thought I taught you 
better, Ellen Jennifer. Can't
you see the truth? He's not like us. You deserve better."
      Mike thought. 
     "The only truth I see is that you can't accept him. It doesn't 
matter to me what he does or
how much money he has," Ellen said. "I love him and that's all that 
really matters. I'm leaving."
She got up and headed for the door.
     Mike stood up. "Well, I would say it was nice to meet you, but I'm 
an honest person. I'm
glad she doesn't take after you. Goodbye." He left.
     Judy sat alone at the table, quietly thinking over what had just 
happened. It wasn't easy
being a mother. She worked hard to make sure her daughter went to the 
best schools, met all the
right people, and followed the social rules, but it had all been for 
nothing. Her daughter had still
done everything wrong.  she 
thought.  Maybe if she hadn't gone to New York she 
wouldn't have wanted to
be an actress, she wouldn't have moved to California, and she definitely 
wouldn't have met that
boy. She was a failure as a mother.
     Mike found Ellen in the parking lot standing next to her mother's 
car, clearly debating if
she should leave or not. He walked up behind her and gently turned her 
to face him. He gently
wiped away a tear from her cheek and pulled her close to him. He held 
her and let her cry, not
caring that she was getting his shirt wet. He wanted to say something to 
comfort her, but he
didn't know what to say. He wanted to ask her about New York, but this 
was not the right time.
He didn't say anything, the time would come later to talk. For now she 
just needed him to hold
her.
     When she was finished crying, she pulled away from him. "I'm 
sorry," she said.
     "For what?"
     "For the way my mother treated you. I should have warned you."
     "It's not your fault," he assured her. "It just got started off 
wrong. I think it wouldn't have
been so bad if I had been wearing clothes or I had known she was going 
to be there."
     "I should have told her before about us. Then it wouldn't have been 
so bad."
     "You can't change the past, Ellen," he told her. "We'll make it 
through this, just like we
have other things." He gently cupped her face in his hands and kissed 
her, a soft, tender kiss that
he hoped would assure her that it didn't matter to him how her mother 
felt as long as they still
had each other. He pulled away. "Feel better?" She nodded. "Good. What 
do you want to do
now?"
     "I want to go home," she said.
     "Okay, I'll take you home."
     "No, I want to go to your place today. I don't want to see her 
again today."
     "Okay, I don't think the guys will mind you hangin' with us today. 
It's not too far to your
place so we can walk to get the car."
     Hand in hand, they walked the few blocks to her apartment building. 
She was quiet and
this bothered Mike. "Are you sure you're okay," he asked.
     "Yes, I'm fine," she answered. "This morning you said you needed to 
tell me something.
What was it?"
     It took him a several seconds to remember what it was. "Oh, that," 
he said, "it wasn't
important. I'll tell you later."
     For some reason she didn't believe him. His attitude earlier had 
been that it was
important. Now he was acting differently. She didn't like him keeping 
secrets from her, but she
knew this was not the best time to pressure him about it. There would be 
plenty of time later.

End Part One

Part 2a

     The air was thick with smoke and the smell of death. The battle had 
been going on for a
day now and didn't seem to be ending anytime soon. Blood from the dead 
and dying had soaked
the ground and overflowed onto his boots, staining them. He knew he was 
lucky to have boots.
Many of the men were barefoot and were taking the shoes off the dead for 
themselves. 
     He closed his eyes, trying to block out the scene of destruction 
around him, but the
screams of the dying refused to be ignored. He longed to be home again 
with his wife and son.
He hated being away with the baby due so soon. He just wanted all of 
this madness to end so he
could go on with his life.
     He had joined the fighting because he felt it was the right thing 
to do. He believed in the
Southern Cause and of course he had been promised the fighting would 
only last a few months at
the most. They would beat the Yankees and then go back home and they 
would be free. He had
long since stopped believing the war would be over soon or that they 
would ever be free.
     He heard someone approach and he heard the gun. It was too late. He 
opened his eyes just
as the bullet slammed into his chest, knocking him to the ground. 
 he
pleaded.  
     He knew it was too late. There was too much blood. He could smell 
it, an all too familiar
smell as of late. He had seen Death before, had killed plenty in his 
life, animals mostly, but was
changes things. He didn't want to die. He wanted to be back home with 
his family. He thought of
his wife, her beautiful eyes shining with love for him, her sweet 
kisses, and nights alone after
their son was asleep. He thought of his son, the boy who trusted him, 
who looked up to him. He
thought of his sister and her wedding the year before. She was happy now 
and lucky for her
husband had somehow avoided the war. And he thought of the child not yet 
born, the child he
would most likely not live to see.
     The pain was almost unbearable yet still he hoped he wouldn't die. 
He knew it was
foolish to hope. It was too late. He could taste the blood, slick and 
salty, almost like ocean water,
only thicker.  He saw a shadow and looked to see a man standing over 
him, gun aimed. The
only thing different about him was the color of his uniform. And his 
eyes. They were cold and
uncaring. The man was going to kill him. He heard the gun fire and saw 
the smoke.  And
then everything went dark.
     Mike jerked awake, the scream dying in his throat. He looked 
around, almost surprised to find
himself not on a battlefield, but on the couch in the guestroom. He was 
still dressed except for
his boots and hat. He had no idea why he would be asleep in the 
guestroom. He didn't even
remember going to sleep. It was still dark outside so he guessed it was 
probably early morning.
He stood up and carefully made his way to the light switch by the door. 
He turned it on and
checked his watch. It was 5:30 a.m., which meant everybody upstairs was 
still asleep. They
probably didn't even notice he wasn't there.
     Part of him wanted to go upstairs and go back to sleep, but he was 
afraid he might have the
dream again or maybe a worse one. This was becoming a more frequent 
occurrence and it
was really starting to bother him. He hadn't told anybody about them, 
but he was thinking about
telling Ana. She would understand more than anybody else. It was 7:30 in 
Texas and she was
probably awake. Maybe he should give her a call.
     Just then the phone rang and he knew it was her. She was the only 
person who would dare call
this early and he knew he better answer it before it woke up everybody 
else. He quietly made his
way to the kitchen and picked up the phone. "Hello."
     "I was right," Ana said.
     "About what?" he asked. "And do you do this to everybody or just 
me?"
     "I do it to Will, too," Ana said. "It doesn't scare him."
     "It doesn't scare me, either, just, uh, nothing. What were you 
right about?"
     "You had another dream." She said it so calmly, as if they were 
discussing the weather
instead. She acted like it was a perfectly normal occurrence, which to 
her, it probably was.
     "Yeah, I did," he said, knowing he didn't sound as calm as Ana. 
"Wait, how did you
know it wasn't the first?"
     "I know these things," she said.
     "I guess you have a theory about all this?"
     "Yeah, but you're not ready to hear it yet."
     "What makes you say that?" he asked, even though he knew it was 
true. He just needed to
hear it from her.
     "I know you too well, Robert Michael. All in due time."
     "I hate it when you call me that," he said.
     "It's your name."
     "I know, but the only time I ever got called that was when I was in 
trouble. I don't like to use
that name."
     "You have before."
     "I don't want to talk about that," he said. Not now. He still 
hadn't asked Ellen about it and
he didn't intend to anytime soon.
     "Okay, we won't talk about that. So, how's Ellen? Is that a safe 
subject?"
     "She's fine, it's her mother that I have a problem with."
     "Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me?"
     "Because there is," he said and told her about meeting Ellen's 
mother.
     "A towel?" Ana said when he was finished. She was laughing so much 
she barely got the
words out.
     "Well, it wasn't an intentional thing. If I had known she was going 
to show up, I wouldn't
have stayed."
     "I guess you don't want me to tell your mother about that, do you?"
     "No, don't tell her about that. I tell her what she needs to know 
about my personal life."
     "Have you told her about Ellen?"
     "Of course I have, just not every detail. She said she wants to 
meet her."
     "Does that mean you might be coming home soon?" Ana said, unable to 
contain her
excitement.
     "I don't know yet," he said. "I'll have to talk to Ellen about it 
and pick a time when we're
not busy. I'll let you know. I really want her to meet you."
     "I want to meet her, too," Ana said. "Hey, it's almost eight 
o'clock here. I really need to
go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
     "Yeah, later. Bye, Ana"
     "Bye. Oh, let me know if you have any more of those dreams."
     "I will," he said and hung up the phone. Talking to Ana usually 
made him feel better, but
this morning it only confused him more. He knew there was something she 
wasn't telling him
and he wanted to know what it was.
     Upstairs, he heard a door open and footsteps. He turned to see 
Micky standing at the top
of the stairs. "What are you doing here?" Micky asked.
     "I live here," Mike replied.
     "Yeah, I know that, but I didn't know you were here. I saw your bed 
was empty and I
thought you..."
     "You thought I was with Ellen, right? Not tonight."
     "Then where did you sleep?"
     "In the guest room."
     Micky didn't even bother to question that one. "Did I hear the 
phone?"
     "Yeah, it was Ana."
     "Isn't it a bit early?"
     "Yeah, almost six, but it's two hours later there. Go back to bed, 
everything's okay here."
     "Okay," Micky said, yawning and went back the bedroom.
     Mike stared at the phone, debating whether or not he should call 
Ellen. It was early and
she was probably asleep, but he really needed to talk to her. He needed 
to be with her, to assure
himself that everything was okay. That dream had affected him more than 
he thought. He picked
up the receiver and started to dial, but stopped before he finished 
dialing. He decided to wait a
while and then go see her. She'd be awake within an hour. That would 
give him time to think
about what to tell her.

End Part 2a

Part 2b

     It was a few hours later and he was at Ellen's. She had fixed 
breakfast despite his protests that he
wasn't hungry. He had finally given in when he realized that it would 
give him more time to think about
just how to tell her what was going on. He loved her, he trusted her, he 
just didn't know how to explain
the recent turn of events. He didn't understand what was going on, so 
how could he expect her to
understand them?
     Something was wrong, Ellen realized as she watched Mike push the 
food around on his plate
with his fork. She knew she wasn't the greatest cook in the world, but 
he had never complained. She
had even cooked his eggs with cheese, his favorite. The toast was a 
little burned and the coffee a bit
weak, but that didn't explain why he was acting so strange. He wasn't 
happy about something and she
hoped it wasn't her. Lately it had seemed that things had gotten a 
little routine, dinner, an occasional
movie, hanging out with the guys and one or two nights a week he spent 
the night with her. The most
exciting thing to happen lately was when her mother had visited, but 
they hadn't talked about that. They
hadn't talked about much of anything lately. Maybe he was bored with 
her. It happened to people. It
had happened with Joey. She didn't want to lose Mike. She loved him too 
much to give up just
because things had gotten a little boring.
     She reached across the table and touched his hand. He started at 
the unexpected contact and
she could see the truth in his eyes. He wasn't bored, he was scared. She 
knew fear when she saw it.
Years of study had taught her to recognize emotions and she knew he 
wasn't faking. Some wise person
had once said that the eyes are the mirror to the soul and they were 
right. Something had happened and
she wanted to know what it was. Seeing the pain in his eyes made her 
ache with a need to make it go
away, to see him smile again. She reached for his hand again and this 
time he didn't pull away. Their
fingers intertwined in a symbol of unity and strength. "What's wrong?" 
she asked. "Please tell me. I
want to help you."
     He had to tell her now. She might not understand it or believe him, 
but at least he would have
told someone. Maybe then he would feel better. "I talked to Ana this 
morning," he said. "I had a
strange dream and I was going to call you, but it was early and I 
thought you would be asleep. I didn't
want to wake you up."
     "So you called her instead?" Ellen asked. She tried not to sound 
angry, but it was hard. She
had never been able to understand why he told Ana things he didn't tell 
her.
     "No, I didn't call her," he said. "She called me. I guess somehow 
she knew something was
going on and so I told her what happened."
     "What did happen?"
     "I told you, I had a strange dream."
     "About what?"
     He didn't say anything at first, just stared at their hands. Then 
he looked up at her. "It was
about the war. I was fighting and I died."
     No wonder he had been acting strange. She knew when she had bad 
dreams it affected her,
but somehow it seemed like this went beyond an ordinary nightmare. "It's 
perfectly understandable,"
she said. "You see it on the news, it creeps into your mind, it's a 
scary thing. I understand."
     "Not Vietnam," he said. "The Civil War. It's so real, I can feel 
everything and I can smell the
dead bodies rotting and the blood. It's everywhere. And then I get shot 
and I'm dying and I'm thinking
about you and Ana, but it's different. It's not the first time something 
like this has happened. I had
another dream a few nights ago. We were children. I was going to tell 
you about it, but that was when
your mother came by."
     "What do you mean it's different?"
     "I don't know how to explain it. In this dream I know this person. 
It's me, but it's not me. I
know all about his family, his wife and his children, his sister, his 
friends. It's me and you and Ana and
the guys. It's happened before."
     "It's impossible," she said. "Things like that don't happen. It was 
just a dream."
     "I knew you wouldn't understand," he said and pulled his hand away. 
He stood up and walked
over to the door. "I'm sorry," he said, "but it's the truth. Maybe one 
day you'll believe me."
     She sat and watched him walk out, trying to hold back the tears. 
She had tried to help him, but
she had made it worse. It had scared her, his talk of war and blood and 
that it had happened before.
She knew there was a strong bond between them, but she didn't like his 
explanation. Maybe it was
best to let things calm down for a while, spend a little time apart and 
see how things went. Then they
would know if it was real.

End Part 2b


Part Three

3a

Two days later

     "What's up with Mike?" Micky asked one morning at breakfast. Mike 
was still upstairs or so
Micky thought. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked the question.
     "What do you mean?" Davy asked.
     "He has been acting strange the last few days," Peter said.
     "How so?" Davy asked.
     "He actually stays home," Micky said.
     "What's so strange about that?"
     "He hasn't been to see Ellen in a few days and she hasn't called," 
Micky explained.
     "Do you think they had a fight?" Davy asked.
     "I hope not," Peter said. "I really liked having her around. She 
was a good influence on Mike."
     The conversation continued with much speculation as to what had 
happened.
     Mike watched them from the top of the stairs. They probably thought 
he was still asleep or
something. The truth was he hadn't slept much in the past two nights and 
when he did sleep, he
dreamed about things he shouldn't. He dreamed about blood and war and 
death and a love strong
enough to survive for all time.
     He missed Ellen. Two days and he felt like his whole world was 
falling apart. He hadn't meant
to hurt her, he just wanted her to understand how he felt. Maybe he had 
gone about it the wrong way,
but it had helped him understand his dreams.
     He hadn't told Micky, Peter, and Davy what had happened and they 
hadn't asked. Still, they
knew something was wrong. He knew he should probably tell them. After 
all, if it hadn't been for them
he and Ellen wouldn't have dated at all.
     It seemed so stupid to throw away four wonderful months because of 
some bad dreams.
     Downstairs, the conversation had turned to other areas of his 
relationship with Ellen.
     "Do you think he's had to resort to cold showers yet?" Davy asked. 
     "It's only been two days?" Micky said. "It couldn't have gotten that bad in a 
few days." 
     "If she ever gets desperate, I'm available," Davy said. 
     "She'd have to be pretty desperate for that," Micky said. 
     "She's been with Mike all this time. She should be ready for a real man," Davy 
said. 
     "You've got the most amazing ego," Micky said. "Besides, we could be wrong about 
everything." 
     "Do you think they, uh, ever, well, you know?" Peter asked, 
blushing. Micky and Davy giggled,
which made Peter blush even more.
     "Not that it's any of your business, but yes, we did," Mike said, 
joining them in the kitchen.
     "How did you-" Micky started to say.
     "I heard the entire conversation," Mike said. "I was listening from 
the top of the stairs. You
should be more careful next time."
     Peter blushed again, Micky stammered out and apology, and Davy 
decided maybe it would be
best if he went somewhere else for a while. Mike didn't try to stop him. 
There would be time later to
talk.
     When Micky finished eating he decided he needed to do some things 
in town and Davy was still
down at the beach, so Peter and Mike were left alone. 
     "Hey Mike?"
     "What, Peter?"
     "Davy didn't mean what he said."
     Mike didn't say anything at first. He had enough to worry about 
without Davy causing more
problems. Davy did have an annoying habit of getting on his nerves and 
some of the things he'd said
earlier would not help matters any. Just because girls usually feel for 
Davy was no reason for him to
worry. Okay, so maybe he was a little worried. After all, until a week 
ago, things had been great
between him and Ellen. Now everything was different. "Davy doesn't 
always think before he says
something," Mike said.
     "Mike, what happened with Ellen?" Peter asked. "Did you have a 
fight?"
     "Not exactly," Mike said. He really didn't want to talk about what 
had happened, but he felt
that perhaps Peter might be able to understand better than Micky or 
Davy.
     "Then what did happen?" Peter asked.
     That was it. Mike just couldn't take it anymore. "Damn it, Peter, 
do you have to be so nosy? If
I had wanted you to know what happened, I would have told you."
     Peter just sat there, stunned. He knew Mike had a temper. After 
all, he had known Mike longer
than the others. Still, it had hurt when Mike yelled at him. "I'm 
sorry," he said, trying to hold back the
tears. "I was just worried about you." Unable to hold back his tears any 
longer, Peter left the table and
went upstairs to the bedroom.
     "Damn," Mike muttered to himself as he watched Peter run away. He 
hadn't meant to hurt
Peter. He just didn't want to hear anymore questions or have Peter feel 
sorry for him because of what
had happened with Ellen. Peter hadn't meant to make him mad, he was just 
trying to be a good friend.
This was turning out to be the worst week of his life.
     
A few hours later.

     Davy had returned from the beach, but he was avoiding Mike, who was 
sitting on the couch
playing his guitar. Peter had come downstairs and was fixing himself a 
sandwich. He had apologized to
Mike about making him mad and Mike in turn had somewhat explained what 
had happened with Ellen.
Things had calmed down considerably.
     Micky returned around noon. "Hey guys, mail's here. Mostly bills. 
Who do we know in San
Francisco?"
     "Maybe it's just another bill," Peter said.
     "I don't think so," Mike said, taking the letter from Micky. "It's 
from the Shady Palms Country
Club. Maybe it's a job."
     "A job? We haven't worked in weeks," Micky said with barely 
contained excitement.
     "Open it," Peter said.
     "Yeah, open it," Davy said.
     "Okay, okay, everybody calm down," Mike said. He opened the letter 
and read it to himself.
     "What is it?" Micky asked.
     "Is it a job?" Peter asked hopefully.
     Or maybe a contest?" Davy asked.
     "This is very interesting," Mike said.
     "What is?" Micky asked.
     "This stamp," Mike said. "It's a peace symbol. See?" He passed the 
envelope around.
     "Groovy," Micky said. "What did the letter say?"
     "It says that Mr. Richards, owner of the Shady Palms Country Club, 
wishes to hire us for a one
week engagement at the club, room and board provided and he'll pay us 
$1000. He needs us there
tomorrow at 4:30."
     "Wow, a $1000, that's enough money to pay the rent and have lots of 
money left over," Micky
said. "This could be the big break."
     "We already have the rent money," Mike said. "This means we get 
$250 a piece. That's a lot
of money."
     But no one heard him. They were already upstairs packing.
     
     Mike couldn't sleep that night. He was thinking about what he could 
do with $250. He could
afford to take Ellen out to a nice restaurant for once. Or maybe he 
could buy her a nice present to
show her that he was sorry for the way he had acted earlier. He hadn't 
meant to upset her, he just
wanted her to believe. 
     He knew if he didn't get to sleep soon he would never get up in 
time in the morning. They had to
leave early so they could get to San Francisco in plenty of time. This 
job could be the beginning of big
things for them and he wanted Ellen to be with him, but he hadn't told 
her they were going. Maybe the
time apart would be good for them. He finally drifted off to sleep and 
begin to dream.
     He was in a small cabin. The only light was from a lantern hanging 
on the wall. He paced nervously
around the small room. He stopped in front of a door. He wanted to go 
in, but he wasn't sure if he
should. He could hear crying and muffled voices on the other side. He 
wanted to go in and be with his
wife. The first pains had come early that morning and now it was near 
midnight and still the child had
not come. Something was wrong, he knew that much although no one had 
told him. The child was in
danger. He could sense it.
     The door opened and the doctor came out. "How is she?" he asked the 
doctor.
     "Not good," the doctor said. "The baby is in the wrong position. 
She's bleeding badly. I'm
afraid we may lose them both. You have to prepare yourself for that 
possibility."
     From the other side of the door there came and agonized scream and 
a loud voice demanded,
"Doc, get in here now."
     The doctor went back in the room. He tried to follow, but the 
doctor wouldn't let him. He tried
to wait patiently, but it was hard. He didn't want her or the baby to 
die. She was the only woman he
had ever loved. They had met as children and he had loved her then. They 
had married as soon as she
was old enough. That had only been two years ago. Now he might lose her 
and their child.  he prayed. 
     Suddenly he heard the faint sound of a baby crying.  
     Ten long minutes later the doctor reemerged from the room, wiping 
his bloody hands on a
towel. "It was difficult, but you have a healthy son. He has a good set 
of lungs, too. Your wife is doing
good, too, although she will need to rest for a long time. I'll be 
checking in on her everyday."
     He was so happy he wanted to scream. He shook the doctor's hand, 
not caring that it was
bloody. "Thank you doc," he said. "May I go see them now?"
     The doctor's face became sad. "There was another baby," he said. "A 
little girl. She didn't live
but about a minute or two. I'm sorry, there was nothing that could be 
done. At least you have a healthy
son and there will more children later. I can notify Mr. Peterson if you 
want me to."
     "Yes, please do that," he said. Mr. Peterson was the mortician in 
town. They could bury the
baby in the family plot next to his father  and his baby brother. He 
remember when his brother had
died, how devastated his mother had been. She hadn't wanted to get out 
of bed for weeks. He didn't
want the same thing to happen to Julie. 
     "I'll stop by in the morning, Marc," the doctor said. "Tell Julie 
to take it easy, please. Be
grateful, you have a healthy son."
     "Thanks, doc. See you tomorrow." 
     The doctor left and he went in to see his wife. She was sleeping, 
but she did not look
completely relaxed. She was probably still in pain from the delivery. 
"Does she know?" he asked the
woman in the room. It was his sister, Angela.
     "She knows about the boy, she saw him. We didn't tell her about the 
girl. She passed out when
she delivered her. Would you like to see your son?"
     "Yes," he said and she handed him a small bundle. He looked down at 
the tiny face of his son
and he was filled with hope. 
     "He looks like you did when you were a baby," Angela said. "You had 
just a bit of dark hair
like him."
     "He's perfect," Marc said. The baby began to fuss and he handed him 
back to Angela. "I want
to see the other one before Mr. Peterson gets here."
     She laid the baby in the cradle and picked up the other baby. She 
handed it to him and he
looked at her. She was perfect, beautiful just like Julie. Why hadn't 
she been allowed to live? It just
wasn't fair. He wanted to cry, but didn't want Angela to think him weak. 
Still, looking down into the
face of his dead daughter, he couldn't hold back the tears. "It's not 
fair," he said.
     "What's not fair?" a male voice asked.
     Mike opened his eyes and looked around. Peter was standing beside 
his bed. It was light
outside and judging by the three empty beds everybody was awake. "Sorry, 
just talking in my sleep I guess," Mike said. "What time is it?"
     "It's 9:00. Micky and Davy are already downstairs getting ready to 
go."
     "Okay. I'll be done in a few minutes."
     "You had a bad dream, didn't you?" Peter asked.
     Mike didn't say anything, just nodded.
     "I thought so," Peter said. "It's nothing to worry about. Everybody 
has bad dreams from time
to time."
     "Not like these, Pete," Mike said. "I've never had dreams like 
these. They're so real."
     "Do you want to talk about them?"
     "No, not right now. Maybe later."
     "I understand," Peter said and went downstairs, leaving Mike alone 
to prepare for the day
ahead.
     Another dream, but this one was different. It was the same people, 
but this time he had names. He knew he had to write down as much as he 
could remember to tell Ana. She would ask specific questions and he 
wanted to be able answer them. He found a piece of paper and a pencil 
and wrote down the information. He took a shower and dressed all the 
while wondering how Ellen was holding up.

End 3a

3b
        Ellen stared at the phone and wished for the millionth time that it 
would ring. Every time someone had called she had hoped it would be 
Mike. And every time she had been crushed when it wasn't him. Why didn't 
he call? Didn't he realize how much they needed each other? She'd had 
three days to think about what he had told her and while she still 
didn't totally believe, she knew he believed. Still, she couldn't help 
but wonder if it could be true. There was something familiar about the 
way he touched her, the way he kissed her, how she felt when they made 
love. She had never felt like that with anyone before, so alive, so 
free. No one but Mike. And Robert. She had felt that way with him, but 
she told herself it was because that had been the first time. It was 
supposed to feel that way. The past was past. She couldn't change it.
        Should she call him? Would he even want to talk to her? He had seemed 
pretty upset when he left. Still, it had been three days. Maybe things 
had calmed down. She missed him and wanted to see him again. She wanted 
to assure him that everything was okay, that she still loved him. They 
could work out whatever the problem might be.
        The phone rang.
End Part 3b.

Part 3c
        They arrived in San Francisco at 4:00 and went to the Shady Palms 
Country Club to meet Mr. Richards and find out their schedule. Mr. 
Richards, a distinguished looking gentleman in his mid forties, told 
them they would play for an hour each night for five nights at eight 
o'clock and on the dance Saturday night, which was scheduled for 8:30 
until midnight. They would also get an extra $500 dollars for that. He 
had already arranged for them to stay at the hotel next door and they 
were free to enjoy the club until it was time for them to set up that 
evening. He was even paying for room service.
        "Thank you, Mr. Richards," Mike said. "This is very generous of you. 
Why did you pick us?"
        "I've always had a good ear for music. My bother heard your act one 
day, he told me about it and I decided to check it out for myself. I 
loved it and I think the younger members will love it, too. See you back 
here at 7:30."
        "Yes, sir, Mr. Richards."
        "Very good," he said. "I'll see you then." He shook their hands and 
left.
        "I like him," Davy said.
        "There's got to be a catch somewhere," Mike said. "$1500 for so little 
work. That's $375 a piece."
        "Don't worry about it, Mike," Micky said. "We need the money and maybe 
Mr. Richards will recommend us to his friends."
        "Let's go to the hotel," Peter said. "I want rest before we have to 
play tonight."
        "Pete, you slept most of the way here," Micky said. "How could you 
possibly be tired?"
        "I wasn't asleep," Peter said. "It's hard to sleep in a car, especially 
the way you drive."
        "I'm not a bad driver," Micky said. "I didn't see you volunteering to 
drive."
        "Mike wouldn't let me," Peter said.
        "Let's not start fighting," Mike said. "Let's just go to the hotel and 
put our stuff away and then we can have a look around."
        "I hope there are lots of pretty girls here," Davy said as they entered 
the hotel lobby.
        "Is that all you think about?" Mike asked.
        "What else is there?"
        "You're hopeless."
        From the couch in the corner, the girl watched them. She already knew 
this was the band that would be playing at Shady Palms. Her mother was 
Mr. Richards' secretary and had helped make the arrangements. They were 
a nice looking bunch of guys, especially the tall one with the hat. He 
was obviously the leader. She liked men with a take charge attitude. She 
would definitely have to see them at the club tonight. Things could get 
very interesting. Maybe the summer wouldn't be a total waste after all.
        The short one had noticed her and was trying to get her attention. She 
laughed at his attempts to flirt with her from a distance, but she was 
concentrating on someone else. 
        "Come on, Davy," the tall one said.

        "But Mike, there's a girl over there. I think she likes me."
        "Maybe she'll still be here in a few minutes. Right now we have other 
things to do."
        They went down the hallway that led to the elevator.
        So his name was Mike. Nice name, simple, easy to remember. And that 
accent. He sounded like somebody out of a western or something. She 
liked westerns.

******************************************
        "I think that girl downstairs was interested," Davy said as they were 
getting settled in their room. They had been given a suite, two rooms 
connected through the bathroom. There were two beds in each room. There 
had been much discussion on who got which room and they had decided to 
shoot for it. Davy and Micky got one room while Mike and Peter got the 
other.
        "Davy, if your ego gets any bigger you won't be able to fit through the 
door," Micky said.
        "What's that supposed to mean?" Davy asked.
        "It means if you meet a girl, don't bring her here," Mike said. "I 
don't want anybody causing any trouble while we're here. Understood?"
        "Yes, Daddy," Micky said. "No girls."
        "I'm not here to meet girls," Peter said.
        "Maybe that girl is still downstairs," Davy said. "I'm going to go 
see."
        "I'll go with you," Micky said. He and Davy left.
        "I'm going to get something to eat," Peter said.
        "Pete, you can just call room service," Mike said.
        "I want to get something from the club. And then I guess I'll look 
around and find something to do."
        "Do you want me to come with you?"
        "No, I'll be okay by myself. I'll find Micky and Davy and ask them to 
come with me. I'll see you later."
        "Be careful," Mike said.
        "I will," Peter said and left.
        "He sure was in a hurry to get out of here," Mike said to himself. "And 
he didn't want me to go with him. He's up to something, I know it. What 
is it?" Mike sat down on the bed and looked around the room. He was 
alone in a strange city. His friends were off doing stuff and he was 
left with nobody to talk to. "That's it. He wants me to call Ellen." He 
picked up the phone and begin to dial her number.
        Behind him he heard the door open and figured it was just Micky or Davy 
coming back to ask him if he wanted to go somewhere with them. Except 
they didn't wear perfume and he could smell it. "Hi, Mike," a very 
familiar voice said.
        He hung up the phone and turned around. They had been set up. Again. He 
didn't say anything, didn't know what to say. Beautiful, she was so 
beautiful. The dress was new, a little low cut on top, short skirt. That 
was the new style. He liked it. It looked good on her. He'd give 
anything to see her out of it. The perfume was new, too. She had done 
this for him, the new dress, the new perfume, coming all the way here. 
That meant something. Finally, he found his voice. "I've missed you, 
Ellen."

End Part Three


Part Four

     "I've missed you so much," he whispered as he held her close to 
him. "These last few days
have been terrible."
     "I missed you, too," she said. It felt so good to have him hold her 
again. "I'm sorry for the way
I acted."
     "I shouldn't have gotten so upset with you," he said. "I just 
wanted you to believe me."
     She didn't say anything, didn't really know what to say. She'd had 
a dream herself the night
before. It had been so real but still she didn't feel ready to tell him 
about it. Later, maybe, but now was
not the right time. 
     She started to say something, but he stopped her with a kiss, a 
deep, hungry kiss that she didn't
want to end. She kissed him back with the same hungry passion. Nothing 
else mattered except this
moment.
     It ended all too soon. "How did you know I was here?" he asked.
     "Peter called me," she said. "He told me where you were going and 
hinted that it would be a
nice surprise if I decided to visit."
     "Remind me to thank him later," he said and kissed her again, a 
little slower and sweeter, but
just as passionate. He'd never wanted anything as much as he wanted her 
then. His searching fingers
quickly found the zipper on her dress. He started to unzip it when the 
sound of footsteps in the hallway
stopped him. He pulled away from her. "Maybe we shouldn't do this," he 
said. "What if they come
back and catch us?"
     "They won't be back anytime soon," Ellen said. "Peter assured me 
that we would have a few
hours to ourselves. He's going to keep Micky and Davy occupied. We have 
nothing to worry about."
Then, with a smile he would always remember, she kissed him and began to 
unbutton his shirt. "I
suggest you finish what you started," she said.
     He was happy to oblige.
     
     Meanwhile, elsewhere in the hotel Davy was trying to find the girl 
again, but she seemed to
have disappeared. "I think I'll go back to the room and help Mike 
unpack," he said to Micky and
Peter.
     "I'll go with you," Micky said. "It's boring down here."
     "No!" Peter said. "You can't go to the room. You have to stay here 
for a little while longer."
     "Why?" Micky asked.
     "Yeah, why can't we go back to the room?" Davy asked.
     "Uh, because Mike doesn't need any help unpacking. Well, he's not 
unpacking. He's doing
something else, maybe, but he doesn't need any help," Peter said. "He's 
not alone."
     "Peter, is there something you and Mike forgot to tell us?" Micky 
asked.
     "Mike didn't know about it. It was all my idea," Peter said.
     "What was your idea?" Davy asked.
     "I invited Ellen to the hotel so she and Mike could work things 
out. I thought it needed to be
done."
     "There goes my chance," Davy said.
     "She wouldn't go with you if you were the last man on earth," Micky 
told him. "I think that was
a very nice thing you did, Peter. How long until we can go back to the 
room?"
     "We can go back at 6:00. That will give us some time to plan for 
tonight's performance," Peter
said. "I wanted to give them plenty of time to talk."
     "And do other things," Davy said.
     "Don't you ever think about anything else?" Micky asked.
     "Sometimes," Davy replied, "but not much."
     "What do we do until six?" Peter asked.
     "I'm hungry," Micky said. "Let's go get something to eat."
     Just then Davy spotted the girl. "You guys go on, I'll meet you 
there. I'm going to go talk to
that girl."
     "He's hopeless," Micky said. "Meet us at the restaurant at the 
club," he said to Davy as he and
Peter left.
     Davy walked up to the girl. " Ello, luv, I'm Davy Jones" he said in 
his most charming tone of
voice. "Didn't I see you here earlier today?"
     The girl looked at him. "Oh yes, you're in that band that's playing 
at the Shady Palms, aren't
you? My mother helped book you. I'm Cyndie. Where's the rest of the 
band?"
     "They're not here," he said. "It's just you and me. Are you 
planning on being at the club tonight
to hear us play?"
     "I wouldn't miss it for the world," Cyndie said.  "Excuse me, but my mother is expecting me home soon. I'll see 
you later."
     "Sure thing, luv," he said. "Hope you enjoy the show."
     "I'm sure I will," she said and left.
      Davy thought. 

Back in Mike's room

     "Tell me about your dreams," Ellen said as they lay together 
afterwards.
     "Are you sure you want to know about them?" Mike asked. The last 
hour had been pretty
peaceful and he didn't want to ruin it.
     "Yes, I want to know about them, please. We shouldn't keep secrets 
from each other."
     He wanted to ask her then about New York, but knew it still wasn't 
the right time. There were
still too many unanswered questions. Did she even realize he knew? Did 
she even remember it? "It's
like I told you already, it's us, but it's the Civil War. What else do 
you want to know?"
     "How many dreams have you had so far?"
     "Three. One the night of your birthday, one three nights ago, and 
one last night."
     "Did anything bad happen in the dreams?" This was important. Her 
dream had been painful.
     "I told you, I died in the war. Is that bad?" He didn't want to 
tell her about the latest dream, the
one about the babies. He didn't know how she would take it.
     "Which dream was that?" she asked. She had the feeling there was 
something she wasn't telling
him.
     "It was the second one. The first one we were children, probably 
about eleven years old. I fell
in love with you in that dream."
     "What were our names?"
     "My name was Marc and your name was Julie."
     "That's what I thought."
     "Ellen, what did you mean by that? Did you have a dream, too?"
     "Yes, I had a dream last night. I didn't want to tell you, that 
would make it real. It was so
terrible, Mike. She was such a little thing, our baby. Why didn't she 
live?" She couldn't hold back the
tears. Remembering the dream was like living it all over again.
     "Ellen, in this dream, was there another baby, a boy, and he 
lived?"
     "Yes. How did you know?"
     "I had the same dream, well sorta. The same situation, but my point 
of view."
     "Do you think it really happened, we lived then?"
     "I don't know, but it feels right. I just wish I knew why it was 
happening now."
     "I love you, Mike," she said.
     "I love you, too," he whispered and softly kissed her.
     They drifted back to sleep, safe in each other's arms and that's 
how they were when Micky,
Davy, and Peter returned.

End Part Four


Part Five
5a

     More people than they expected had turned out to hear them play. 
Most of them were teenagers
and young adults there with parents, but there were a few older people 
in the audience. Davy
immediately spotted Cyndie, but Cyndie had her eye on Mike, who was 
searching the crowd for Ellen.
When he spotted her he almost dropped his guitar. She was wearing the 
black dress she had worn on
their first date. She smiled and waved when she saw him. He smiled back 
and winked at her. He was
glad they had managed to work things out.
     Cyndie, however, failed to notice that Mike didn't want her. She 
didn't care. She wanted him
and she always got what she wanted.
     They started with their usual songs like Last Train to Clarksville, 
Steppin' Stone, She, etc, with
Micky singing most of the songs. Davy sang Daydream Believer and Peter 
sang a new song he had
written called For Pete's Sake. The audience really liked it.
     Finally, it was Mike's turn. This was going to be the last song of 
the evening. "The hour is almost
up," Mike said. "We have time for one more song. This is for a very 
special lady and I hope she
understands just how much she means to me. This is a little something I 
like to call Sweet Young
Thing."

     Afterwards they were at the club restaurant eating when Mr. 
Richards came up to their table. "I
just wanted to let you know I enjoyed the show very much and I think the 
young people enjoyed it, too.
Cyndie in particular asked me to tell you that she enjoyed the show, 
especially the last song. I think
she's taken quite a shine to you." This last statement was directed at 
Mike.
     "I'm flattered, but I've already got a girl," Mike said.
     "I wouldn't worry about it," Mr. Richards said. "Cyndie's the type 
that falls in love all the time."
     "Sounds like somebody else we know," Micky said after Mr. Richards 
left.
     "Who's Cyndie?" Peter asked.
     "She's the blond we saw earlier when we were checking in," Davy 
said. "Nice girl, marvelous
qualities, you might say. Why is Mike getting all the girls now?"
     "I don't want her," Mike said. "I've got a girl in case you didn't 
notice."
     "Where is Ellen anyway?" Micky asked.
     "She's resting," Mike explained. "It was a long trip and she's 
tired."
     "What are we going to do about sleeping arrangements now?" Peter 
asked. "You two probably
want to be alone."
     "She has her own room," Mike said. "Since she's tired tonight, 
you're stuck with me."
     "So you did works things out, right?" Micky asked.
     "Yeah, everything's okay now," Mike said.
     "Then why aren't you staying with her tonight?" Davy asked.
     "Because we don't feel the need to be with each other every second 
of the day and night,"
Mike explained. Davy's attitude was really starting to bother him.
     "It's getting late," Micky said. "I think we better hit the sack. 
It's been a long day."
     "What's the plan for tomorrow?" Peter asked.
     "Ellen said something about playing tourist," Mike said. "She's 
never been to San Francisco
before."
     "I don't have any plans," Micky said.
     "I guess we'll just play it by ear and do whatever we want 
tomorrow. Just as long as we're
back here at 6:00. Agreed?" Mike said.
     "Agreed," they all answered.
End 5a

5b
The Next Day
     Mike awoke at 8:30 the next morning, somewhat surprised that he 
hadn't dreamed about that
other life. He hadn't even dreamed at all. Maybe the dreams were over. 
Or maybe there just wasn't
anything he needed to know from then right now.
     He was meeting Ellen at 9:00 for breakfast and then they were going 
to have a look around the
city. Their problems were behind them. Or so he thought. The course of 
true love never did run smooth
and they were about to discover just how true that was.
     He was walking down the hall to Ellen's room when he saw someone 
walking towards him. It was
that blond girl, Cyndie. Maybe she wouldn't see him. No such luck, she 
was headed right for him.
 Good morning," she said in a breathy voice that sounded remarkably like 
Marilyn Monroe.
     "Hi," he said and attempted to continue on his way, but she stopped 
him with a hand on his
arm. He noticed she had bright red nail polish and the nails were 
obviously fake. She must have spent a
long time studying old movies. He still wasn't interested.
     "I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the show last night," she 
said. "You're very talented."
     "Thank you," he said, wanting to get away from her.  he thought. He had 
smelled rotting animals that
smelled better than whatever perfume she had doused herself in. "Excuse 
me, but I have somewhere to
be." She didn't say anything, just smiled and batted her false eyelashes 
at him. She had definitely been
watching the late movie too much. He couldn't take it anymore. He 
removed her hand from his arm and
without another word, continued to Ellen's room.
     Cyndie watched him walk away, one thought on her mind. She wanted 
him and would do anything
to get him.
     He didn't knock when he got to Ellen's room, just walked in. She 
was expecting him so he figured it
wouldn't be a problem. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. "You 
ready to go?" he asked. She
didn't answer. That's when he noticed she was crying. He sat down beside 
her on the bed and put his
arm around her, pulling her close. "What's wrong?" he asked. Had he done 
something to upset her?
Did she know about Cyndie and think he had encouraged her pursuit? He 
hoped not. So much had
happened lately, they didn't need anymore problems.
     "I called my mother," she said finally. "I just wanted her to know 
where I was in case she tried
to call me or something."
     "What did she say?" Whatever it was, it had to be bad. He had only 
encountered Judy once
before, but that was enough. Perhaps if they had met under different 
circumstances, things would be
different, but he couldn't change the past. 
     "She said that I shouldn't have come here," Ellen said between 
sobs. "She said I deserve better
than you and I should have left when I had the chance." 
     "Don't let it bother you," Mike said, gently wiping away her tears. 
"It doesn't matter what your
mother thinks of me."
     "It matters to me," Ellen said. "I want her to like you."
     "Well, sweetheart, people in hell want ice water, but that don't 
mean they get it," he said. "As
long as you love me, it doesn't matter what your mother thinks. You do 
love me, don't you?"
     She didn't hesitate to answer. "Of course I love you," she said. 
She had stopped crying.
     He smiled. "Good, because I love you, too," he said and gently  
brushed his lips against hers in
a light kiss that promised of more later. "Now go get ready because 
we're going to breakfast and then
we're going explore the city."
     "What about tonight?" she asked.
     He thought about it for a second and then whispered something in 
her ear that made her blush
and giggle. "Really?" she asked.
     "Yeah, it sounds like fun to me," he said. "The sooner we get 
started on the day the sooner we
can get around to that."
     "I'll be out in a minute," she said, heading for the bathroom. She 
was already dressed, she just
needed to wash her face and redo her makeup. She knew she shouldn't let 
what her mother said upset
her, but she couldn't help it. She loved her mother and wanted her to be 
happy for her. So what if
Mike was different from her other boyfriends, he loved her and she loved 
him. That should be enough
for her mother. But it wasn't. Nothing was ever good enough for her 
mother.  she
thought to herself as she was putting on her makeup. 
     "I'm ready," she said, coming out of the bathroom.
     Hand in hand and smiling, they went to the restaurant at the club 
for breakfast.
******************************************************************
     Cyndie sat at a table in the Shady Palms restaurant, watching Mike 
and Ellen. There had to be
some way to break them up so she could have Mike for herself. He would 
be devastated and she
would be there to comfort him. She just needed to come up with a way to 
make it happen.
     The first thing Davy noticed as he entered the restaurant was 
Cyndie sitting alone. Then he
noticed what held her attention. He walked up to her table and sat down 
across from her. "Ello," he
said. "I noticed you watching Mike. You want him?"
     "Yes," Cyndie answered. "You're his friend, can you help me?"
     He smiled that smile that made most females melt. "Of course I can 
help. You want him, I want
her. I've got a plan," he said and begin to tell her his plan.
End 5b

Part 5c
     "I think I liked New York better," Mike said as they walked around 
San Francisco. It had
been one boring shop after another and he wanted to go back to the 
hotel.
     "I didn't know you had been to New York," Ellen said. "When were 
you there?"
     "A few years ago, just for a week," he said. Now was not the time 
to ask her about that.
     "I used to live in New York," she said. "Not for very long, though. 
I was 18 and rebelling a bit.
Mom didn't like it, but I loved it. She didn't speak to me for two weeks 
after I came back to
California."
     "What happened to get you talking again?" He didn't always get 
along with his mother, but he
couldn't imagine her being so mad at him to not speak to him for so 
long.
     "She set me up with Joey. She adored Joey, still does, actually. I 
think that's part of why she
doesn't like you."
     "What about you?" Okay, he was curious. After all, he felt he had a 
right to know.
     "If I didn't have a contract with him, I would be happy to never 
see him again," she said. "As
soon as it's over, I'm going to find a new agent and hope I never see 
Joey again."
     "How much longer do you have?"
     "One year or a movie. I think that's why he won't get me a movie, 
he wants to keep me. I think
I shattered his ego when I dumped him. It didn't bother me, though. I 
was tired of him."
     "How long was that before we started dating?"
     "It was about four months," she answered. Joey had spent those four 
months begging her to
take him back, but she had refused. She had never regretted the 
decision, even before she met Mike.
She had gotten tired of Joey. Now she wished she could get rid of him.
     "So I got you on the rebound?"
     "No, I was over Joey long before I dumped him."
     "Glad to hear it," he said. He checked his watch. "It's about lunch 
time. You hungry?"
     "Yes. Let's go to the Top of the Mark."
     "Aren't they expensive?"
     "My treat."
     He reluctantly agreed.

At the Top of the Mark
     The food was very good and the prices reflected that. It sure beat 
the food they'd had the
week before on her birthday. He still felt a bit guilty about that, but 
it didn't seem to bother her.
     "Do you like Mexican food?" he asked her.
     "I never really had it," she said. "Why?"
     "There's this great little Mexican restaurant back home in Texas. 
When we go, I'll have to take
you."
     "When we go? I don't remember you asking me to go."
     "Okay, I'm asking you now. I get $375 from this gig. When we have 
the time, I would like to
take you to Texas for a few days so you can meet my mother and my 
friends. Do you want to?"
     "You want me to meet your mother? I'd love to. What about Ana?"
     "I'd like you to meet her, too. She's really looking forward to 
it."
     "You told her before you even asked me?"
     "No, I didn't. I just sorta mentioned I had been thinking about it 
when I talked to her a few
days ago. Don't get mad. There's no reason to get mad at her about 
this."
     "I'm not mad," she said. "I want to go, I want to meet her. When 
are we going?"
     "I don't know," he said, relieved that she didn't appear to be mad 
at him. "It will have to be
sometime when we both have a week or two free. It's a long way to Texas. 
Besides, I'd have to talk to
my mother about letting us stay with her and I'd have to talk to Ana. 
There's a lot of planning to do
about this. We'll talk about it later."
      she thought. 
     After lunch they did more exploring. They rode the cable car  and 
saw the Golden Gate Bridge
and Ellen got mad at Mike when he tried to climb up on the railing. She 
was afraid he was going to fall,
but he didn't. He just wanted to see what she would do.
     They were walking down Market Street when Ellen saw the sign. 
"Mike, look at this," she said,
pointing to the sign. It said,  Madame Rose sees all, knows all. Ask any 
question and she will answer it.
1401 Market St.'
     "You want to go talk to her?" Mike asked.
     "I'm curious," Ellen admitted. "There's nothing to lose. Let's do 
it."
     It was only two blocks to Madame Rose's and they had plenty of time 
so they went. Mike
wasn't sure what to expect, but this wasn't it. The room was brightly 
lit and smelled of incense. On the
table in the corner there was a deck of cards, a crystal, and a candle. 
Against one wall there was a
large bookcase filled with books of all sizes. One in particular caught 
his eye. He took it off the shelf
and looked at the title. The Search For Bridey Murphy.  he
thought to himself. He opened the book and began to read.
     A door that neither of them seemed to have noticed opened and 
Madame Rose appeared. She was
a tall woman with long gray hair piled on top of her head in a bun. She 
didn't look older than thirty
except for her hair. She wore a simple white dress, very little makeup, 
and her only jewelry was a pearl
necklace and a gold wedding ring. "How may I help you?" she asked.
     "You're Madame Rose?" Ellen asked, somewhat surprised.
     "Yes, I am Madame Rose. You were expecting someone different? Maybe 
a bit flashier?"
     "Yes," Ellen answered.
     "You're honest," Madame Rose said. "I like that. I don't like 
stereotypes. It tends to be bad
for business. Too many frauds out there and they give those of us with a 
genuine gift a bad name." She
walked up to Mike and looked at the book in his hands. "Interested in 
past lives, Mr. Nesmith?"
     "Yes, a bit," he answered. "How did you know my name?"
     "I know many things, Michael. I do not know why I know them, it's 
become a part of me. You
know things, too. Use that to your advantage."
     "This is a very interesting book," Mike said. "I wish I had the 
money to buy it."
     "Take the book, read it, learn from it," Madame Rose said. "I am 
not the one to answer your
questions about this. That is for the dark haired woman."
      Mike thought. 
"Thank you."
     Madame Rose sat down at the table across from Ellen and motioned by 
Mike to join them. He sat
down in the chair next to Ellen. "You're not exactly sure why you have 
come here," she said, "but you
know it was something you had to do. There has been conflict lately, 
both together and separately.
Give me your hands." They both held a hand out to her. "Very 
interesting," she said. "I knew it when
you walked in."
     "Knew what?" Mike asked.
     "You have a very strong bond. How you met was no chance encounter, 
it was planned. Think
about how you met and everything that went into that. If one thing had 
happened differently, you
wouldn't be here now. But that bond is about to be tested. There are 
many changes coming in the
future. It has began, but you don't know it yet. Be very careful in the 
decisions you make."
     "What is going to happen?" Ellen asked.
     "I can't tell you that," Madame Rose said. "You will know when it 
happens. When it does,
remember your love for each other and it will help you know the right 
thing to do." She let go of their
hands. "I hope I have helped you."
     Ellen was confused, but thanked Madame Rose anyway. Mike tried to 
pay Madame Rose, but
she refused. Instead, she whispered to him, "Tell her before you both 
forget what happened. She
remembers that night in New York in her own way. It's holding you both 
back, so tell her."
     Mike didn't say anything, just nodded his understanding, took his 
book, and joined Ellen.
     "What did she tell you?" Ellen asked him when they were outside.
     "She was just reminding me of something that happened before," Mike 
said. "I'll tell you about
it later."

End 5c
End Part Five


Part Six
6a
Saturday Night after the dance

     "Did you get it?" Cyndie asked Davy.
     "Of course I did," Davy said, handing the key to Cyndie. "The door 
is locked so she can't get
in."
     "This better work," Cyndie said, taking the key from Davy.
     "It will," Davy assured her. "Just give her a few minutes to figure 
out she doesn't have the key
and then you go in her room. I'll make sure it works."
     "Where is Mike?"
     "He said something about getting something to eat, I think," Davy 
said. "I did overhear him
telling Ellen he would meet her back at her room."
     "Thanks for all your help," Cyndie said and kissed him on the 
cheek.
     "No problem," Davy said. "It's almost time."
                          *************
     Ellen stood outside the door to her room wondering what to do. She 
had somehow managed to
lock herself out of the room. Mike would be there any minute and she had 
no way to get into her room.
She knew the office would be closed until morning and she would feel 
very uncomfortable spending the
night in Mike's room with Peter there too. Maybe if she went back to the 
club, she could find the hotel
manager and get a key from him. She was just about to do that when she 
heard someone call her name.
Turning around, she saw Davy. What else was going to go wrong? "This 
isn't a good time, Davy," she
said.
     Davy ignored the fact that she didn't want to speak to him. "I just 
wanted to tell you that Mike
said he had some things to do and for you to wait for him in our room."
     It sounded a bit suspicious, but Ellen really didn't have much of a 
choice. Davy hadn't really
done anything other than be generally annoying towards her the last few 
days and if Micky and Peter
were there he wouldn't try anything. She reluctantly followed him down 
the hall.
     As soon as they were out of sight, Cyndie unlocked the door and 
went inside to prepare for
Mike to arrive.
     Mike arrived a minute later and entered the room without knocking. 
He did think it a bit strange
that the lights were off, but thought it was just to enhance the mood. 
He walked to the bed as quietly as
he could and sat down on the edge. By then his eyes had adjusted enough 
to where he could tell there
was someone in the bed. He could see a pile of clothes on the floor. 
"Started without me, didn't you?"
he said teasingly. "Well, you're gonna have to pay for that." He reached 
out and gently caressed her
hair. That's when he noticed something wasn't quite right. Ellen's hair 
wasn't that short and her chest
wasn't that big. So either she'd had a radical make over in the last 
five minutes or that wasn't Ellen. He
jumped from the bed and ran to the light switch. He flicked it on to 
reveal Cyndie sitting on the bed,
wearing a smile and nothing else. He suddenly felt sick. He wanted out 
of the room, but first he wanted
an explanation for why she was there. "What are you doing here?" he 
asked. "Where's Ellen?"
     "She's not here," Cyndie said, standing up and walking up to him. 
She noticed the can of whipped
cream he was holding. "What's that for?" she asked.
     "I, uh, I like it in my coffee," he answered. With his free hand he 
tried to open the door. It
didn't work, he couldn't get it open with just one hand.
     "You look more like a banana split type to me," Cyndie said, 
smiling. She stood on her tip toes
and kissed him on the cheek, making sure she left a smear of bright red 
lipstick. "No man has ever
refused me before, Mike," she said, starting to unbutton his shirt. 
"Don't be the first."
     Mike wanted to get out of that room and run far away. He wanted 
away from Cyndie. He
knew that if Ellen came in he would be in more trouble. Where was she 
anyway? And why was Cyndie
in her room? He knew one thing. This was a set up and he had a good idea 
of who was behind it. If he
ever got out of the room and found Davy, he would not go easy on him.
     He dropped the bottle of whipped cream and opened the door, running 
out into the hallway.
Cyndie grabbed a sheet from the bed and ran after him.

     Ellen knew she should have realized something was up when she saw 
the bottle of wine and the
two glasses sitting on the table when she entered the room. "This is a 
nice room," Ellen said, looking
around. It had a small refrigerator and a sofa.
     "I guess Mr. Richards wanted us to have the best," Davy said, 
sitting down on the sofa. He
picked up the bottle of wine and poured some into the two glasses. He 
motioned for Ellen to sit next to
him on the sofa. "Mike will be here in a few minutes," he said. "You 
might as well make yourself
comfortable."
     "Where are Micky and Peter?" Ellen asked. She did not sit down, but 
she still did not leave.
     "I don't know," Davy said. "They probably went out with some 
girls." He motioned once again
for her to join him on the sofa. "Please, sit, be comfortable."
     She reluctantly sat down beside him, but refused the glass of wine 
he offered. "I wish Mike
would get here," she said.
     "I wouldn't worry about him," Davy said, scooting closer to her. 
"He can take care of himself."
He took a sip of his wine. "You know, you're the first serious 
girlfriend Mike has ever had since I've
known him."
     "I think he's mentioned that," Ellen said, trying to move away from 
him. She suddenly felt very
uncomfortable. 
     He reached out and grabbed her arm. "Don't go anywhere," he said. 
"You deserve better than
Mike. You deserve someone who can really appreciate you."
     "Let go of me," Ellen said. She pulled away from him and ran to the 
door. "Don't you ever
touch me again." She tried to open the door, but she couldn't.
     "It's locked," Davy said, walking up to her. He touched her cheek. 
"Do you know what Mike
said when he first met you?"
     "I don't want to know," Ellen said, brushing his hand away from her 
cheek. "Whatever you're
going to say is probably a lie anyway."
     "Oh, it's not a lie, love," Davy said. "He said you were pathetic."
     "No, that's not true, Mike wouldn't say anything like that."
     "He did. You were lonely and pathetic and desperate, that's what he 
said. I guess you would
have to be pretty desperate to date him." He touched her cheek again and 
trailed his fingers down her
neck. "I wouldn't have said anything like that," he said.
     Summoning up all her courage, she slapped him hard across the face. 
"Don't you ever touch
me like that again," she said. "I am not your little play thing. And 
don't think I won't tell Mike what
happened because I will. Then you will get exactly what you deserve." 
She pulled on the door handle
until it opened and she ran into the hallway.
     "He's just an uneducated hick," Davy said, following her out. "What 
can he give you that I
can't?"
     But Ellen didn't say anything. She was too busy trying to figure 
out what was going on down the
hall. Mike had run out of her room, shirt unbuttoned, followed by 
someone who appeared to be naked
under a sheet. She recognized her as Cyndie, the girl Davy had been with 
lately. She felt sick to her
stomach thinking that maybe Mike had arranged for Davy to take her to 
his room so he could be alone
with Cyndie.
     Mike didn't see Ellen until she had walked up to him. "What's going 
on here?" she asked.
     "This isn't what it looks like," he said. "I didn't bring her here. 
I didn't do anything wrong."
     She didn't say anything. She didn't know whether or not to believe 
him.
     Davy walked up behind her. "I tried to tell you he would hurt you," 
Davy said.
     "Shut up, Davy," Ellen said. "I don't want to hear what you have to 
say. I wouldn't believe it
anyway."
     Nobody seemed to notice that Cyndie had gone back in the room until 
she came back out, this
time wearing her clothes. She was also wearing Mike's hat. "Thanks for a 
wonderful time," she said.
"Next time, bring more whipped cream." She started to walk away, but 
Ellen stopped her.
     "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what you were doing 
with Mike," Ellen said. She
pushed Cyndie back in the room. "Nobody touches that hat," she said, and 
grabbed the hat from
Cyndie.
     "Don't get bitchy with me,"Cyndie said.
     "I have every right to get bitchy with you," Ellen said. She saw 
the can of whipped cream on
the floor and picked it up. "It's still full."
     "That doesn't prove anything," Cyndie said, trying to keep her 
voice from trembling.
     "It proves plenty, you little slut," Ellen says. "It proves to me 
that nothing happened here. Now,
I want you out of here and I mean now. I want you to leave me and Mike 
alone. He doesn't want you.
He's got me and that's enough."
     Cyndie ran out of the room. "Your stupid plan didn't work," she 
told Davy and ran down the
hall.
     "This was all your idea?" Mike asked. It had been a long time since 
he had lost his temper and
only the fact that Davy was his friend had stopped him before. Now Davy 
had gone too far.
     "Yeah, it was my idea," Davy said. "I felt she deserved better."
     "Somebody who's not some dumb hick, you mean? Did you think I 
didn't hear that? I thought
you were my friend. I guess I was wrong. I don't need friends like you. 
And you keep your hands off
Ellen."
     "And if I don't?"
     Mike answered that by punching Davy in the jaw. 
     "So you want to fight do you?" Davy asked.
     "Yeah, I do," Mike answered and soon fists were flying. Mike had 
forgotten about Davy's ring
until it cut his cheek. Still, that didn't stop him. He had gotten in 
plenty of fights over the years and had
learned a few things from them. Plus, he had the advantage of height.
     Ellen, hearing the shouting, ran into the hallway. "Stop," she 
yelled, seeing them fighting. They
ignored her. She heard footsteps approaching and hoped it wasn't the 
hotel security. She was relieved
when she saw it was Micky and Peter. They would know what to do. 
"They're fighting," she told
Micky. "Make them stop."
     Micky didn't say anything, just walked up to Mike and put one hand 
on his shoulder. "Mike,
stop it. You're both hurt."
     Mike stopped and stepped away. There was blood on his face from 
where Davy's ring had cut
him and he had a black eye. Davy also had bruises forming on his face.
     "What happened here?" Micky asked.
     Neither one of them answered. Davy started walking away. Peter 
tried to stop him, but he
shoved him away and walked away. Peter started to go after him, but 
Micky stopped him. "Let him
go," Micky said. "He'll come back when he's cooled off. He turned to 
Mike. "Are you going to be
okay?"
     Mike just nodded and motioned for Micky and Peter to go to their 
room. He was breathing
hard and he knew he would be sore in the morning. He didn't feel sorry 
for what he did. Davy had hurt
him.
     Micky and Peter went to their room, leaving Mike and Ellen alone in 
the hallway. She looked
scared, as if he might hurt her, too, the way he had hurt Davy. He 
wouldn't hurt her. He loved her. He
held out his hand to her, pleading, "Don't leave me," he said. "Please 
don't leave me. Not again."

End 6a


Part 6b
     She didn't say anything, just stood there, staring at him, as if 
debating whether or not to take his
hand. She had never seen him act like that, pleading with her not to 
leave him. When had she left him
before? She didn't know, but she did know he needed her right then. She 
took his hand in hers and
they went to her room.
     He sat down in a chair while she went to the bathroom to get a wet 
washcloth to wash the
blood off his cheek. And he would need ice for his eye. She didn't have 
any ice. Maybe she could get
some from room service. 
     What had he meant about not leaving him again? Things were 
happening so fast, she wasn't
sure she wanted to know what he was talking about. This probably had to 
do with whatever it was
Madame Rose had told him Tuesday. Why hadn't he told her about that yet? 
If it concerned her, then
she had a right to know what it was.
     He was still sitting in the chair when she walked back in the room. 
His eyes were closed and he
looked asleep, but she knew he wasn't. She gently began washing away the 
blood. His eyes opened as
she touched the cool washcloth to his face. He didn't say anything, but 
the question was clear. 
     "How do you feel?" she asked. The cut wasn't very deep and it 
hadn't bled much. It would
disappear in a few days just like the bruise around his eye would. But 
what about the emotional
wounds? Would either of them be able to trust Davy again?
     "I'll live," he answered. "I did what I had to. I lost you once 
before. I didn't want it to happen
again." He cupped her chin in one hand, gently caressing her cheek. "Why 
did you leave me that night?"
     "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she said. He was 
starting to frighten her. Maybe
the fight had affected his memory or something.
     "You didn't know it was me," he said. "I didn't realize it, either, 
not until a few weeks ago. You
were probably scared. You were only 18 and we had only known each other 
a few days. I did love
you, Jennifer."
     Only one person had ever called her Jennifer. There was no way he 
could have known that
unless... Oh god, could it really be true? "Robert? In New York, that 
was you?"
     He nodded. "That's my first name, but I've always gone by Mike. 
Except that one time. I
always wondered what happened to you. I never thought I would find you 
again. Your hair was a lot
lighter then and shorter."
     "Your hair was shorter then, too. I never meant to hurt you," she 
said. "It just wouldn't have
worked out then. But I did love you." She started to cry. 
     He wiped away her tears. "Don't cry, please don't cry. I didn't 
mean to make you cry. No, it
probably wouldn't have worked out then. Did you ever think about that 
night?"
     "Yes, a lot. Did you?"
     "Yes. That was the first time for both of us. And the best until I 
met you again." He kissed her,
a slow, deep kiss, like that night back in New York when she had visited 
his hotel room in the middle of
the night. When the kiss ended, he held her , grateful that they had 
found each other again. That, more
than anything, proved that this was meant to be.
     "Did you ever dream about that night?" she asked.
     "Yes. A lot the first few months. I would dream that you hadn't 
left me or that you came back.
I dreamed about you the night before I met you again."
     "I'm sorry I left then," she said.
     "I understand why you did," he said. "Just don't do it again."
     "I won't" she promised, and kissed him.
     "This is getting uncomfortable," he said when the kiss ended. 
"Let's move to the bed."
     And they did.

End 6b

Part 6c
The Next Morning
     Mike was sore the next morning, nothing a hot shower wouldn't take 
care of, but right then he was
content to stay in bed. He remembered well the pain of waking up on that 
distant morning to find that
she was gone. But he hadn't pursued her then. He was just happy he had 
found her again. In the back
of his mind all the past few years had been the hope that they would 
meet again.
     His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. He started to 
climb out of bed, every
muscle in his body protesting. He ignored the pain and reached down on 
the floor for his jeans. The
knock came again, more insistent this time. He pulled on his jeans and 
stood up. On the bed, Ellen sat
up. "Where are you going?" she asked.
     "Someone's at the door," he told her. "I'll take care of it."
     He opened the door to reveal Micky and Peter. He stepped out into 
the hallway. "This better
be good," he said. "It's still early."
     "Davy didn't come back last night," Micky said.
     Mike felt like he had been punched in the gut. If anything bad 
happened to Davy, it was partly
his fault. After all, he had thrown the first punch the night before. 
"Any idea where he might have gone
last night?" Mike asked.
     "We're going to ask the security guard if he saw Davy last night," 
Micky said.
     "That sounds like a good idea," Mike said. "You two go do that and 
I'll meet up with you later.
I don't think Davy would want to see me anytime soon."
     "I think Davy needs help," Peter said. "What he did to you and 
Ellen was wrong."
     "He'll definitely have a lot of explaining to do when we find him," 
Micky said. "Did you and
Ellen get everything worked out?"
     "Yeah, we got things worked out," Mike said. "That's why I'm not 
letting you in."
     "That's great," Micky said. "I'm going to go see if I can find 
somebody who saw Davy last
night."
     "What do you want me to do?" Peter asked.
     "You can wait here," Micky said. "I'll come back when I know 
something." He left.
     "Mike, I can go back to my own room if you and Ellen want to be 
alone," Peter said. "After
last night you don't need me interrupting you."
     "It's okay, Peter," Mike said. "Just wait here while I ask Ellen." 
He went back in the room.
     "Who was at the door?" Ellen asked. She had taken a quick shower 
and dressed.
     "That was Micky and Peter," Mike explained. "Davy never came back 
so Micky went to talk to
security. Peter wants to hang out here until Micky gets back if that's 
okay with you."
     "Fine with me," Ellen said. "I'll order breakfast from room 
service."
     Mike let Peter in and they waited for Micky to come back.
     "Where do you think he went?" Peter asked.
     "I don't know," Mike said, "probably somewhere with Cyndie. Those 
two deserve each
other."
     "Has Davy ever done anything like this before?" Ellen asked.
     "Not until I met you," Mike answered.
     "He's very jealous," Peter said. "He's used to being the one to get 
the girl, but his relationships
never seem to last long. You two have a very stable relationship. That 
is something he's always wanted,
but has never had. He's naturally jealous that one of his friends has 
that, especially since it's you, Mike.
It's totally unexpected. If it was me or Micky, Davy would have reacted 
differently."
     Mike stared at Peter in amazement. "How did you figure all that?" 
he asked.
     "I took psychology in high school," Peter said. "I made an A."
     "So you're saying that Davy is not really jealous of Mike, he's 
jealous of the type of relationship
we have?" Ellen asked.
     "Somewhat," Peter answered. "The jealousy would be less severe if 
Micky or I was involved in
the type of relationship you and Mike have."
     "Why?" Ellen asked.
     Peter started to answer, but Mike stopped him. "Because in all the 
years that the four of us have
known each other, they've never really seen me hung up on a girl. That 
doesn't mean that there weren't
girls, I just didn't talk about it. I wasn't serious about anybody until 
I met you."
     Ellen nodded in understanding and was about to say something when 
the door opened and
Micky walked in. "I talked to the security guard," he said. "He saw Davy 
leave last night with Cyndie.
They were headed in the direction of her apartment. Chances are he's 
still there."
     "Did you get her address?" Peter asked.
     "Yeah, I got it," Micky said.
     "Well, then, let's go get him," Peter said.
     "There's one other thing," Micky said. "The security guard told me 
that Cyndie has spent time
in the mental hospital. She tried to kill her boyfriend."

End Part 6c

Part 6d
     Davy slowly opened his eyes and tried to remember where he was. He 
knew he wasn't at
home, they didn't have lace curtains back at the pad. It wasn't the 
hotel room, either. The bed was too
small. He tried to sit up to get a better look at his surroundings, but 
he quickly learned this caused a
sharp pain to cut through his head. He vaguely recalled fighting with 
Mike the night before, but he knew
this pain couldn't have been caused by that. It was something else, but 
he couldn't remember what. He
lay back down, his gaze falling to a glass on the nightstand. Cyndie. He 
was at Cyndie's apartment. He
remembered it now. She had invited him back to her place after the 
fight. She had given him something
to drink. He remembered remarking on the strange taste. Then he had 
passed out. She had drugged
him.
     He needed to find a phone. He needed to call Micky and tell him 
where he was. But what if
Cyndie was still there? What if she did something worse to him? He had 
screwed up big time. With
everybody. Mike probably hate him and he had good reason to. He would 
think about that later. Right
now he needed to stay awake so he could find the phone. He could at 
least call the cops and they could
find him. Or he could call an ambulance. It probably wouldn't hurt to 
see a doctor. Whatever Cyndie
had given him could have some pretty serious effects.
     Ignoring the pain, he sat up and slowly made his way out of the 
bed. Most of his clothes were
scattered on the floor. Did he have sex with Cyndie? He couldn't 
remember. He didn't want to
remember. Right now he just wanted out of that apartment. He hoped 
Cyndie wasn't still there.
     He dressed as quickly as he could, ignoring the pain as much as 
possible. As soon as this was
over, he was going to crawl in bed and sleep for days. And avoid Mike. 
He had screwed up and Mike
probably hated him for what he did. He wasn't too fond of Mike, either. 
Not right then.
     There wasn't a phone in the bedroom. He checked the living room. He 
found the phone on the
coffee table. He picked it up and started to dial, but that didn't work. 
The wires had been cut. He had
no other way of contacting Micky. He didn't know where he was, he hadn't 
paid attention to where
they were going last night when Cyndie had brought him here. Maybe he 
could find a bill or something
that would tell him the address. There were a stack of envelopes on the 
table. He picked them up and
began looking through them. Many of them were empty, which didn't help 
him at all. Then he found one
from Twin Oaks Sanitarium. With trembling fingers, Davy pulled the 
letter out of the envelope. He felt
sick to his stomach as he read it. 
     "Dear Patient,
     It is time for your monthly follow up visit. We at Twin Oaks feel 
that these follow up visits
ensure that you will continue to be mentally healthy. Please call to 
schedule an appointment."
     He dropped the paper as if it burned him. He had gotten involved 
with a psycho chick. He
would be lucky if he got out alive. He had never screwed up this bad 
before.
     He heard a commotion in the hallway.  He couldn't move, frozen with 
fear.
     The door was kicked open and he was relieved to see a policeman 
standing there. He could
see Micky, Peter, Mike, and Ellen behind him. "Are you Davy Jones?" the 
cop asked.
     Davy nodded.
     "You're friends were very concerned about you, Mr. Jones. Do you 
need to see a doctor?"
     "Yes," Davy said. "I think she put something in my drink."
     "Wait here and I'll get an ambulance," the cop said and left.
     "What happened?" Micky asked.
     "I don't really remember," Davy said. "Cyndie asked me to come back 
here with her. She
fixed me a drink. It tasted funny. Then I passed out. That's all I 
remember."
     "You're lucky," Peter told him.
     "What do you mean?" Davy asked.
     "She stabbed her last boyfriend," Micky explained. "She spent a 
year in a mental hospital for
that. We asked Mr. Richards about it. He denied it at first, but we got 
the truth out of him."
     "That was a really stupid thing you did, Davy," Mike said. "You're 
lucky you didn't get yourself
killed."
     "Leave him alone, Mike," Micky said. "You two go back to the hotel. 
We'll stay with Davy. I'll
call later."
     "I don't need you to fight my battles for me, Micky," Davy said 
after Mike and Ellen left. It was
obvious that it would take a lot to get those two back on friendly 
terms. Time and a lot of patience,
that's what they needed.
     The ambulance arrived and took Davy to the hospital. Micky went 
with him while Peter went
back to the hotel. If Davy was okay, then they were going to go back 
home. As for Cyndie, nobody
seemed to know where she was. She had called her mother and told her she 
had to go away for a
while, but she didn't say where she was going. The police said they 
would keep looking for her. This
news did little to calm anyone.
     The doctor said Davy was free to leave, the drug had been mild and 
would have no lasting
effects. If any side effects did occur, he was to see a doctor 
immediately.
     By afternoon they were ready to go home. "This has been quite a 
trip," Micky remarked as he
loaded suitcases into the car.
     "Never a dull moment," Mike said. 
     "I hope the next trip is boring," Peter said.
     Davy didn't say anything. He was already curled up in the back seat 
of the car, fast asleep.
     Mike handed the car keys to Micky. "You drive," he said. "I'm going 
to ride back with Ellen.
Besides, I don't think Davy needs me around right now."
     "I understand," Micky said, taking the keys from Mike. "It will 
work out."
     "I hope so," Mike said. "Be careful."
     "Yeah, you, too. See you back at the pad."
     They got into their separate cars and started the trip back home. 
     It's amazing how much can change in one week. Friends grow apart, 
lovers grow closer, the
past isn't over, and sometimes people aren't what they seem. Yes, great 
changes were coming. They
had began and nothing would ever be the same again. But one thing hadn't 
changed. They still hoped as
long as hope was alive, anything was possible.

End Part 6d

End Part Six

The End!

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