(Meanwhile, back at the Pad)
"Mike, Micky, wake up!" I said, shaking Mike and yelling to awaken them.
Mike moaned and opened his eyes. "What's the matter, Davy?" he asked.
"Peter and Nicole are gone. The car's still here, and it's thunder storming outside," I wailed at them. Neither of them were convinced.
"Relax, man," Micky said, burying his face back into the pillow. "They probably just took a walk downtown and went into a building when it started raining."
"But it's almost twelve now," I said, realizing I was starting to whine. "And I woke up at ten. They've been gone at least two hours."
Mike rolled over, sat up, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He yawned, stretched, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Relax, Davy," he said. He paused and yawned again. "They're not twelve years old. They can take care of themselves."
"I know that," I said. "It's just that...." I paused, realizing how stupid this would sound.
"That what, Davy?" Mike asked impatiently.
"Well, I.. I've got a feeling that they've got a problem." Micky moaned skeptically and rolled over to go back to dreamland. "I'm serious. I've had these feelings before and they were always true," I said, indignantly.
"You've been hit on the head too hard," Micky moaned at me.
"You've gotta admit he's been right before," Mike pointed out. I gave Micky a smug look. "But seriously Dave, how much trouble could they be in? They can take care of themselves. If they're not back by dinner time we'll go and look for them, okay?" I nodded.
Well, dinner time came around eventually with no sign of them. Finally, Mike gave in and asked me to see if I could find anything.
"I know it's not exactly a foolproof method, but it's worked before and I'm gettin' worried now," Mike said. I agreed and went up to the bedroom where I could think clearly.
I sat down on my bed and closed my eyes. I thought of Peter. I pictured him in my head. I imagined his voice in my head and focused on it. Finally, I received a clear image of him in my head. I felt a weird feeling go through me. I didn't recognize it at first, but it was hunger. Not overpowering, but strong. And then I felt another feeling. Not a bad one, but one that surprised me. I jerked open my eyes in the middle of the thought, so surprised by that revelation. Who would have thought, I wondered. I got up and headed downstairs to tell Mike and Micky.
"Any thing?" Mike asked me as soon as I was down off the steps.
"They're okay," I said. "Or at least Peter is. Hungry, but okay. And I assume that she is also because he doesn't seem to be concerned."
Mike wasn't convinced. His dark eyes bore into me. "Are you sure they're together?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "She's in his thoughts." He frowned.
"Where are they?"
"Haven't a clue," I answered honestly.
"Well why didn't you find that out?" he asked. I blushed and looked at the floor. It hadn't occurred to me to search for their location. "Find out," he said. "Here. Now."
I closed my eyes, focusing on Peter again.
"Well?" Mike demanded. "Where are they?"
"A tree," I said.
"A tree?" Micky asked. "I know Peter's a Monkee, but that's taking it a little too far, don'tcha think?"
"No, really," I said. "They're in a tree."
"Why are they in a tree?" Mike asked, getting impatient.
"I don't know, ask them," I said.
"That's what you were supposed to do!" Micky said. "Why didn't you?"
I heaved a sigh. "Listen, I found out all I could. All I know is that they're in a tree and they're okay. Hungry, but otherwise okay."
Mike frowned pensively, and I could see that he was thinking of what to do now. "Let's see," he mused, thinking aloud. "They didn't take the car, so they must be within walkin' distance. So, let's split up and search all of the trees within walkin' distance." He paused to see how Micky and I were taking this. "I'll go that way," he said, indicating one direction "Up the street. And you go that way," he added, indicating the other direction. "Micky, you walk along the beach in case Davy's suspicions were incorrect. Okay?"
We nodded, and then set off to search. I headed in my particular direction, calling Peter's name and asking passers-by if they'd seen Peter or Nicole. No one had. After walking for a good hour with no sign of either of them, I turned around and headed back, calling and yelling.
Micky was headed up the beach. "PETER!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. A few seagulls flew away, but there was no response from Peter. "NICOLE!" he tried, this time loud enough to alert a few children who were engaged in a volleyball game enough to drop the ball, but no response from Nicole. He apologized to the children who were playing volleyball and asked them if they'd seen Peter or Nicole, but none of them had noticed anyone besides him. He continued walking along, yelling and shouting, but still earning no response.
Mike wasn't having anymore luck than Micky and I. He walked farther, since his legs were longer than mine, and made it all the way downtown. He asked everyone on the street if they'd seen Peter or Nicole, but no one had. As he entered the residential section of town again, he resumed yelling for them. "PETER! NICOLE! ANSWER ME!" he shouted. Suddenly, he stopped, hearing a faint voice. He turned toward the source of the sound and listened. He heard it again. "PETER?" he asked, still yelling. He heard another sound and headed in that direction.
As he rounded the corner, he saw a little boy of about six, with red hair and freckles. He was sitting on the curb and sobbing.
"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked the kid.
"I-I'm lost," he said between sobs.
"Aw, gee, don't cry," he said. "I'll help ya get home. Where do you live?" The boy shrugged. "Well, what's your house look like?" he asked.
"I-it's blue and w-white," the boy responded through sobs. He slowed his sobs and looked up. "W-who are you?" he asked.
Mike put on his best 'I'm happy' smile and responded. "My name's Mike," he said. "I was lookin' for a friend of mine when I found you."
"Named Peter?" the boy asked.
'Smart kid,' Mike thought, laughing to himself. "Yep. You heard me, I guess."
"Mm-hmm. I thought you were callin' me. My name's Peter, too."
Micky was beginning to get frustrated. He'd been yelling and shouting for an hour and there was no sign of Peter. His throat was starting to hurt. 'C'mon and show up before I loose my voice, Pete,' he thought to himself. Suddenly, he stopped. Up higher on the beach was a tree. A large tree. And in the tree was a small tree house. "PETER?" he yelled. He stopped and listened. There was a sound. It was barely distinguishable over the roar of the ocean, but it was a human voice. He yelled again and heard the sound in response. He couldn't tell what the voice was saying, but he knew where it was coming from. He stopped and listened. Then, he turned and ran up the hill to the tree.
"Peter, listen," Nicole laid a hand on his arm. "Do you hear that?"
Peter stopped and listened. Faintly, over the roar of the ocean, which had still not calmed down after the morning's storm, was a voice. A loud, annoying-sounding voice. One that could only be....
"MICKY!" he yelled cheerfully, loud enough to make Nicole put her hands on her ears. He crawled over to the edge of the tree house and looked, squinting. He put his hands over his eyes to shield them from the bright sun that was near setting, and looked out at the beach. Far in the distance he could see a volleyball game, and a little past that was a lone figure, with curly hair. "MICKY!" he yelled again. He turned to Nicole.
"That's Micky," he said cheerfully.
"Ya don't say," she mumbled sarcastically.
"Here, help me yell, or he'll never hear us," he pleaded, and together they opened their mouths and screamed again. It worked. The figure on the beach now named Micky stopped. They yelled again. Then, the figure turned and started running up the beach into the yard.
