They stood in the hallway outside Micky's hospital room, each pacing back and forth. Dr. Strand had been examining him now for what seemed like a decade and one question was running through each of their minds.
"How could he not know us?" Peter finally asked the dreaded question, shaking his head.
Mike came over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I just don't know, shotgun."
Dr. Strand finally emerged from the room, closing the door behind him. The five of them swarmed around him. "Let's go to my office."
They followed the doctor to his office at the end of the hall. It was small and dark but somehow comforting. "What's wrong with Micky?" Madison asked as soon as they were all settled.
Dr. Strand took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Mr. Dolenz has amnesia. He doesn't remember who he is, what happened to him or who any of you are."
"Will he get better?" Davy asked quietly.
"There's no way to tell." Dr. Strand sighed. "Most people do get their memories back, but it may take some time. The best thing for you to do is just act normal. I’m going to keep him here overnight for observation and then you can take him home in the morning."
"What if his memory never comes back?" Peter asked sadly.
Dr. Strand looked at Peter with a consoling smile. "You must think positive. Any little thing could bring his memory back. Just do all the things you normally do. He'll have lots of questions, answer them. Show him pictures, take him to his favorite places, eat his favorite foods, listen to his favorite music."
"Thanks doc." Mike said holding out his hand. "Can we see him?"
"Sure, but don't stay too long." The doctor shook Mike's hand. "I want him to get some rest."
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Mike, Peter, Davy, Samantha and Madison cautiously walked back into Micky's hospital room not sure of what to expect. Micky was sitting up in bed still looking confused and bewildered. But they also noticed he was tapping out a drum riff with his fingers completely unaware he was doing it.
"Hi, Micky, how are you feeling?" Madison asked walking over to the side of the bed.
"Okay, I guess, except for this headache." He rubbed his temples. "What's your name?" There was something so familiar about her, he thought to himself.
Madison had tears stinging her eyes but she kept them under control. "I'm Maddie Sage. This is Mike Nesmith, Peter Tork and Davy Jones." She pointed to each of them. "They are your roommates and I live next door. And this is Samantha Green, she's Mike's girlfriend."
Each of the guys and Samantha waved at him as they walked over to the bed.
"I don't remember any of you." Micky said somberly. He tried so hard to remember something, anything, but it only made his headache worse.
"Its okay, mate." Davy smiled. "The doc says you'll remember everything soon."
"Can you tell me something about my life?" He asked.
"Sure." Peter smiled. "I guess the most important thing is we have a band called The Monkees. You're the drummer and you sing most of the songs."
Micky's eyes grew wide. "I do?"
"Yeah, you have a really great voice." Madison smiled.
"We should let you get some rest." Mike butted in. "Dr. Strand says we can take you home in the morning."
Madison shot Mike a strange look, then looked back at Micky. "Get some sleep and we'll see you in the morning." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
"Thanks…um…Maddie, right?" He smiled up and her and she nodded.
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They said their good byes to Micky and walked out into the parking lot. Samantha had driven her own car so she said good bye to Madison giving her a big hug. "He's going to be alright."
"I hope you're right." Madison said softly.
"I am." They hugged again then she walked over and kissed Mike. "I'll see you in a little bit."
He hugged her tightly. "I'll be over after I take them home."
After Samantha had driven off, Davy took Mike's arm. "You were kind of rude up there, what gives?"
"Nothing." Mike got in the driver's side of the car and slammed the door.
"Mike, we're all in this together and if something is wrong I think we should talk about it." Madison said quietly, climbing into the second seat.
"Look, Maddie, I don't want to talk about it and besides, it's none of your business anyway." He snapped whirling around to look at her.
"Mike, how can you say that to her?" Peter spoke up in Madison's defense, quite to the surprise of everyone. "She's just as much involved in what's going on with Micky as we are."
"Just drop it!" Mike turned back around and started the car.
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It was a long silent drive home in which Madison had plenty of time to stew. How dare Mike say that to her? They pulled up in front of the pad and everyone piled out. Madison ran to catch up with Mike, stopping directly in front of him putting her hand on his chest. "We're going to talk!" She stated. "Beach, now, shotgun!"
Mike sighed then tossed the house keys to Davy. He followed Madison out onto the beach. It was absolutely beautiful; the sun just starting to go below the horizon. They both sat down in the sand. "Okay, out with it." Madison ordered.
Mike let sand fall between his fingers. "The other morning I got a call from an agent. His name is Chuck Stone and he saw us play a while back at Club George. He wants us to record 'Last Train'."
"Mike, that's great!" Madison hugged him. "Micky didn't tell me."
"He didn't know, no body does but you." Mike sighed. "I was going to tell everyone but then Tina showed up and that certainly wasn't the time and then this happened with Micky."
"I think I understand." Madison replied.
"No, you don't!" Mike snapped. "My best friend is lying in some hospital with amnesia and all I'm worried about is blowing this deal. What kind of monster does that make me?"
Madison reached out and took his hand. "It doesn't make you a monster at all. It makes you human and believe me, that's a rare occurrence these days."
"Maddie, this could be our one shot." He squeezed her hand and then let go, going back to playing with the sand. "What if he doesn't remember?"
"He's going to remember!" Madison said firmly. "Somehow we're going to get through this."
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Mike sped over to Samantha's apartment like a man possessed. He wanted to be with her, he needed to be with her. He parked the car and ran up the two flights of stairs to her apartment. She had been watching out the window for him and met him at the door.
He rushed through the door grabbing her around the waist, crushing his lips down upon hers and closing the door behind him with a kick of his foot. There was no need for words. He needed a diversion and she was more than willing to comply.
His kisses were like fire, burning her skin, but she didn't care. She wanted him and she wanted to love him. Soon, clothes were being ripped off and flung about the room. They made love over and over again like hungry animals until finally collapsing from exhaustion.
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Meanwhile, Micky laid in bed wide-awake. The nurses kept coming in telling him to try to get some sleep. Sleep, that was a joke! He kept trying to remember anything about his life but nothing was coming back. It was like he never existed before that day. He thought a lot about the people he had met and how familiar they had seemed and yet, they were complete strangers.
He finally fell into an uneasy sleep plagued by the same nightmare over and over. Running…running down a pitch-black hallway away from something. It was trying to pull him back further into the vacuum of darkness. He knew he had to get away from it. Where was the light? Man, he hated the dark. He kept running and running, feeling his lungs ready to explode but he had to get away.
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Madison flopped down on the pillows in her living room. Micky's pillows, she thought to herself running her hand over the cool fabric. She looked around the room and could see Micky everywhere. There was his jacket flung over the back of a chair and the seashell he had given her the first day they kissed. A spare set of drumsticks lying on the desk and the movie poster from Casablanca he had framed for her for Christmas. The tears started and this time she didn't try to stop them.
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Continue to Part 4
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