I think that it was December thirtieth when I got the feeling that everything was going to start to go wrong. I didn't know at the time why I got that feeling, I only know that was when it started. It was an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach, a feeling of impending doom. Sort of like watching a movie where you know the main character is going to die. Or reading Romeo and Juliet. It was a true feeling, too.
It all started normally. My pal Mike headed off to Alaska. He didn't tell anyone where he was going, so we were all worried, of course, but not too worried. December thirtieth is Mike's birthday, and he hates having people make a fuss, so he left. This was fine with me, because it's also my birthday, so as much as I hate to admit it, I was happy, because I'd get all the attention. Not that I wasn't concerned, but..you know.. Anyway, we assumed Mike had gone off somewhere and hid. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, however. I tried to ignore it but I couldn't. And a feeling of doom is not good on your birthday, believe me. Everyone told me not to worry about Mike, and I agreed that it was a dumb feeling, but I still couldn't shake it.
Anyway, at this point you are probably confused, so I should explain a little. You see, Mike and I lived on the beach in California with our friends, Micky and Peter, and we had a band. We all roomed together and it all worked out alright. Money was short, but we didn't mind, since none of us were used to being rich.
Anyway, Mike took off for Alaska. We didn't know that at the moment. He just left and didn't return. He somehow made his way to Alaska, taking our car, and in the middle of the wilderness, on his way to Anchorage, the old thing broke down. The car just totally died. Mike tried everything, he had all the gas he needed, the battery was still good, everything looked groovy, but the car just would not start. Mike was absolutely baffled. He tried sleeping in the car, hoping someone would find him, but it was rather uncomfortable, and he was hungry. He was about ready to write himself out of life, thinking it was all over. He thought that maybe he should give up and just wait while he either starved or froze to death. Then, he changed his mind and started to head out.
After awhile, nearly frozen, he spotted a light in the distance. He knew that light had to mean somebody, so he kept going towards it.
After what seemed like an eternity longer, he saw that the light was coming from a small cabin in the distance, and he headed towards it.
Mike was so exhausted, he didn't even knock, he just fell forward, landing on the door, and collapsed into the house.
Inside, the cabin was very small, and in the center room sat a lady on a couch, knitting something with some yarn.
When Mike fell into the cabin, the lady immediately got up and dragged him to the couch. She wrapped him in blankets and quickly fixed the door, so that the cold wouldn't come in.
Meanwhile, Micky and Peter and I were worried about Mike. Then all of the sudden, one day, Peter just left. We didn't know where he was, but we knew that this meant we were two members short, and we knew we had to find them.
All our problems were solved with a single knock on the door.
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