It was a sunny April afternoon. The Monkees were in their pad rehearsing their new song "The Girl I Knew Somewhere" written by Mike. They were almost finishing the song until they were interrupted by the doorbell.
"Damn it, who could that be?!" said Mike.
"There's one way to find out,"said Micky.
Micky went to the door and when he opened it, there was a postman with a letter. And the postman said:
"I have an important letter for a Mr. David Jones."
"Yes," said Micky. "I'll take it, thanks." And he closed the door.
Micky went towards Davy, who was in the bandstand with Mike and Peter, and said: "Here babe, this is for you."
"Oh really, from whom might this be?" said Davy, puzzled. Davy opened the letter and it said:
"Dear Davy,
Hello, how are you? I hope you are alright.I was wondering if I could visit you for a couple of weeks. I'm now on holiday and I really want to see you. I know it has been ages since you left England. Give me a ring, if you agree on me staying and do not worry, I'll pay for the phone charges when you call me. Well dearie, I'll sign off for now. I surely hope to hear from you soon. Give my kind regards to your friends. From England with love.
Sincerely, your cousin Sandra Jones
P.S. My phone number is 555-5555, call collect.
When Davy finally read the letter, he exclaimed, "Of course you can stay here, Sandra!!!"
"Who's Sandra?" said mike, Peter, and Micky in unison.
"Sandra is my cousin from England. She's now living in London. I know, because of the postmark. And I haven't seen her since I was 14 years old and she was 12 years old. She's my best friend and we have been through a lot together, good and bad."
Davy asked if Sandra could stay a couple of weeks and they said that it would be okay.
Davy raced to the phone and said, "Operator, I want to make a collect call to a Miss Sandra Jones, the number is 555-5555."
Meanwhile, in Sandra's house. She arrived from a hard days work. She heard the phone ring and picked it up and it said:
"I have a collect call for Miss Sandra Jones from California, do you accept the charges?" said the operator.
"Yes, it must be Davy," said Sandra.
"It's me luv, how are you?" said Davy.
"I feel fine, I'm glad you got my letter. And how about it, can I come and stay with you?" said Sandra,"I've never been to California, I think it would be nice to visit you even though we haven't seen each other in seven years."
"Of course, you can stay luv. I'll be very excited to see you," said Davy, "When are you going to get here? You must get a plane ticket."
"I'm way ahead of you Davy, I already reserved a seat. And I'm gonna arrive on Tuesday on flight 207, from London to California at gate 41, at noon."
"I can't wait to see you and also my roomates!" said Davy, with excitment.
"Roomates?! I thought you live alone!" said Sandra, puzzled.
"No luv, I live with three guys. We are best friends and we are a rock and roll group," said Davy.
"Rock and Roll group! Very interesting. What's the name?" said Sandra.
"We are called The Monkees, with two e's instead of a y. I'm the tambourine player. Michael Nesmith is the lead guitar player, the sort of leader of the group. You'll instantly recognize him 'cause he's always wearing his green wool hat. But please don't call him Wool Hat. He hates that, but he's a nice guy. Now, there's Peter Tork. He's the bass player. He's a flower child, kinda dumb, but the innocent type. He's always getting into trouble, but we love him. And last, but not least, there's Micky Dolenz,he's the drummer. He's a very funny guy. He's always imitating people and getting these wild ideas."
"That sounds so groovy, I hope I'll be great friends with them," said Sandra.
"Of course you'll be good friends with them, they are the grooviest and nicest bunch of lads on the face of the earth!" exclaimed Davy.
"Have you seen Grandfather? My mum told me that he came to California to visit you about some months ago. That's how I come to know your address, through mum," said Sandra.
"Yeah Sandra, he came. Did he tell you about the incident about me being rich and that I had some "servants"? And that he almost took me back to England, because none of it was true," said Davy.
"Wow, Davy! I didn't know about it. My mum told me that, according to Grandfather, that you were fine and healthy. But he didn't tell her about that incident. I'm quite surprised! But of course, you know how Grandad cares about you and wants the best for you. But honestly, I'm not that surprised that you went to the extent to please Grandad. How were the "servants"?" said Sandra, curiously.
"Well, my friends were the "servants". See, they wanted to help me to impress Grandfather. They did it 'cause they wanted to help me. I'm very grateful to them," said Davy.
"Gosh, Davy, you are totally right. They are great friends. I certainly can't wait to see them," said Sandra.
"Well, what about you? What have you been doing for the past seven years?" asked Davy, curiously.
"Well, luv, I'll tell you when I get there. It's getting late and I have to do a lot of things tomorrow before my arrival on Tuesday. I certainly can't wait!" exclaimed Sandra.
"Yeah, you are right. It must be late over there. Well goodnight luv, take care and sleep well," said Davy.
"You too luv. Well, until later," said Sandra, in a joking mood.
"Bye Sandra!"
"Bye Davy!"
Davy hung up the phone. And the guys went up to Davy and asked all sorts of questions about Sandra. Like, what does she do? What kind of music does she listen to? Or even, what does she look like? But Davy couldn't answer all of the questions. Of course, he hadn't seen her for seven years.
"Well, how should we recognize her?" asked Peter.
"We could make a big sign, in neon lights, in letters ten feet high saying, "SANDRA JONES YOU ARE FINALLY IN AMERICA"," suggested Micky, standing on top of the coffee table.
"Whoa Micky, simmer down!" said Mike. "How about something much more simple, like a banner saying, "WELCOME TO AMERICA SANDRA JONES." And no neon lights!" said Mike, looking at Micky.
"I'll give her flowers, what kind of flowers does she like?" said Peter.
"Well Peter, she'd always told me that she loved yellow roses," said Davy.
"Yellow roses, huh? Yellow means love, and sweetness. She must be a very sweet person," said Peter with a wide smile.
"Yes Peter, she's sweet as honey," said Davy.
"I certainly can't wait to meet her," said Mike, looking in the mirror, brushing his thick, shaggy dark hair.
"Well guys, where's she gonna sleep?" said Micky.
"How about the guest room upstairs, between Mike's and Peter's room," suggested Micky.
"That's fine," said Davy, "We must get everything ready for Tuesday."

To be continued...

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