Chapter 4 - Become My Very Own

Mike couldn’t sleep. His mind was so full of thoughts and his heart so full of emotions that he thought he might burst. His eyes refused to stay closed, and his usually organized poetic state of mind was muddled with abstract turmoil. He sat up and stared out the window, letting the moonlight bathe him.

She’d held his hand. That detail kept standing out in Mike’s mind, and he doubted that he’d ever forget it. He’d walked her home, and she’d held his hand. There was something about that small gesture that elated him. Somehow, coming from Georgia, it meant a whole lot more than anything from any other girl ever had. The feeling of her fingers entwined with his, her soft skin, the way her hand fit so well inside his own…

Mike shook his head and laid back down, trying to organize his thoughts, or at least get them to go away long enough so that he could get some sleep. Closing his eyes, he willed everything to go to the back of his mind. “Seventeen” was the last word he thought before finally drifting off.

“You call walking her home a big step?” Nolan asked incredulously. Mike had gone for a drive and found the younger man at the same building he’d gotten out of the car at the day before.

“I know it sounds a little weird, but there’s somethin’ to it,” Mike replied, leaning against the shaded side of the building.

Nolan took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. “I have to admit that nobody else has gotten much past the ‘how do you do’ part,” he said.

“Yeah? So how do you know so much about her?” Mike wanted to know.

Nolan shrugged. “It’s just stuff you pick up,” he explained, “You know, small town stuff. Hang around long enough and you learn a little something about everybody. Can’t be avoided.”

“But why me, man?” Mike sighed in exasperation, “Why not someone more her age? Why not someone more real, someone who’s not…what I am?”

“If you’re talking about you being a pop star, I’d bet she don’t see it,” Nolan assured him, “She probably don’t even think about it.”

“That’d be a first,” Mike scoffed, pushing the toe of his shoe into the dusty ground, then looking up at the building behind him. “Why’re you here, anyway?” he asked Nolan.

“This,” Nolan replied, patting the wall, “Is my ticket to the future.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “A wall, huh? How so?”

“Now the wall, man, the building. It’s my shop!” Nolan spread his arms and grinned, “Well, at least it will be. Right now there’s still a lot of junk to clean up inside. Then I’ve gotta bring my tools down without the old man noticing. Once that’s done, though, bam!” he slapped his a fist into his palm, “I’m in business.”

“Good for you,” Mike nodded appreciatively, glad to see that Nolan was doing something other than bumming around and fighting with his father.

“So…”Nolan threw the word into the silence that had fallen, “You told her how long you’re gonna be here yet?”

“If word travels the way you say it does, she will know soon if she don’t already,” Mike shrugged, “Small town syndrome, right?”

Nolan laughed, flicking the ashes off the end of his cigarette. “Right. Hey, can you give me a hand inside? There really is a lot to clean up.”

“All right,” Mike agreed, following Nolan into the building.

Night fell quickly and Mike was surprised to find himself driving back to the town in the dark. Nolan stayed behind at the building to keep cleaning, so Mike was alone in the car. He briefly wondered what the other Monkees had been doing with their week off, and suddenly had the urge to talk to them. Talking to Nolan was all fine and good if you didn’t mind being teased every other sentence, but there was a time for joking and a time for being serious. Though the other Monkees were much better in the joke department, somehow Mike felt that they’d listen if he needed a serious moment.

It turned out that the only one he could get a hold of was Micky.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Micky was his usual upbeat, hyperactive self.

“Well,” Mike began, “I’ve been tryin’ to write a new song, but I met this girl…”

“You met a chick? What’s she like?” Micky asked.

Mike tried his best to explain about Georgia and how she affected him. When he was finished, Micky let out a low whistle.

“Adorable and intellectual. Sounds like quite a girl.”

Continued