Chapter Three
Gavin whirled so fast his wig nearly fell off. “Where? Show me!” The man nodded and ran off, Gavin pounding after him, pulling the dress over his head and throwing it to the side as he ran, jeans-clad legs pumping.
Mike pointed. “Micky, Davy, you two split up, cover these sides. Peter, you c’mon with me.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and took off after Gavin.
The four arrived at a catwalk suspended over the stage, hidden from the audience by a line of curtain. “There,” the man pointed. Gavin looked over and down and swore.
The ropes holding the drop-down scenery had been severed and the backdrops were in several shards on the floor. “Those were irreplaceable,” Gavin ground out.
Peter crawled down the ladder to the stage and went over to the splintered boards, running his fingers over the edges. “Do you have any lath and wood glue?” he called up to Gavin.
“Somewhere. Why?”
Peter climbed back up. “They can be fixed. They won’t be perfect, but the jagged edges can be touched up with paint and the audience won’t know the difference.”
Gavin looked at him with new respect in his eyes, then he looked toward Mike.
“That guy said ‘they hit again.’ This has happened before, hasn’t it?”
“Yes. Vandalizing our work, slashing our costumes . . . ”
“Why?” Micky said as he and Davy straggled over.
“I don’t know. I have no idea. Someone apparently doesn’t want this play to go on.”
Mike nodded. “Will you excuse me?” He went over to Peter, gently pulling the blond aside. Shadows converged on them as Micky and Davy closed ranks. “I think this is why Mr. Bennett ‘recommended’ us. There’s someone out there really tryin’ to ruin this for Gavin and the other folks here. And for the people supposed to be benefittin’ from it.”
“Agreed,” Peter hissed. “And they’ll learn the Winds can be a tornado when we have to be.”
Mike went back over to Gavin, who was still fretting over the broken set pieces. “Hey Gavin? I think we might be able to help you out in this area.”
“I don’t wanna put you guys out—”
“We’re not put out. Honest. You guys have been workin’ too hard for someone to come along an’ spoil it.”
Gavin sighed. A soft, female voice whispered, “Just let the winds carry you away.”
All eyes snapped to where the voice had come from. It was Micky, his chin on Gavin’s shoulder, his eyes batting furiously.
Gavin looked vaguely uncomfortable. “Uhm . . . ”
“It’s okay, Gavin,” Peter reassured the half-costumed ‘princess.’ “He’s just trying to cheer you up.”
“All right, then.” he poked Micky in the cheek. “Ease up, bony chin.”
“Bony?” Micky pouted, trying to act hurt.
“Gavin!” a woman’s voice shrieked from below. He leaned over the catwalk and she continued, “They’ve been at the costumes again! I’m coming up there to talk to you!” she snapped.
“Well use the service entrance, peasant!” Mike screeched.
Gavin laughed. “You do Gwen well!”
“Don’t be gettin’ any ideas,” Mike warned. “I ain’t wearin’ no dress.”
She arrived on the catwalk bearing scraps of gingham and red cloth. “Look at this.” She unfolded them—they’d been cut to ribbons. “These were the backup costumes for Goldilocks and Red.”
Gavin sighed. “These guys must be invisible and capable of being in two places at once.”
“Or they’re closer than we imagine and more than one of them,” Peter ground out.
“I’m scared to leave this place empty tonight. I have a feeling if I do I’ll come back in the morning to total wreckage,” Gavin said, fiddling with the ends of his wigs.
The Monkees looked at each other. “If you can arrange for some food and bedding, we’ll stay here tonight, Gavin. Make sure things stay put,” Mike said.
“I can’t ask you to—”
“We want to,” Davy said. “Mr. Bennett and the other people in the neighborhood are our friends, and if the play is ruined it’ll hurt them too.”
Gavin sighed. He jammed his hands in his pockets in a very familiar way and lowered his eyes. His mouth curled into a pout as he thought hard. Without thinking Mike picked up a dowel rod leaned up against the rail and started twirling it in his fingers.
“All right, but I stay too.”
Mike tensed a little. He hadn’t told Gavin about them—what if he stayed and saw them in action? Clearing his throat, he shot a meaningful, ‘what do you think?’ look at Peter.
Peter nodded slightly. “He knows the layout of the place better than we do,” was his whispered explanation.
Mike nodded. “Well, then, Gavin, if you’re gonna stay, you need to know something about us.”
Gavin tilted his head. As one, the Four Winds slid into four offensive stances, their formerly relaxed hands curling and twisting into fists and knife-hands, their arms and legs crooking into coiled, ready-to-spring positions and holding there. Gavin’s head jerked backward slightly, his eyes going huge, though his face didn’t change expression. The man and woman had gone off talking dispiritedly and didn’t see.
Mike straightened. “It’s nothing you have to be afraid of, Gavin. We only fight for good. And for our friends. Never against them.”
A slight nod, and he ran a hand through his hair, letting out his breath in a whoosh. “Man.”
“Don’t you mean ‘woman’?” Micky said with a grin.
Gavin blinked at him, then laughed. “Only in the play!”
“Speaking of play,” Peter said, rubbing his hands together. “Where’s my armor?”
“Hasn’t arrived yet,” Gavin smiled.
“Darn,” Peter said. “So what do I do in the meantime?”
“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the cast.”
On to Chapter Four
Back to Chapter Two
Back to Secrets and Lies Index
