A figure sat with its boots up on a table. It looked asleep, but actually it was in pensive thought with its head slightly forward. Its hands were together, resting on its elevated, unbent knees. As it heard the Hall open, it automatically turned its head. The lone figure was a young man, and one that I recognized! His eyes were wide, filled with concern, surprise and relief. I rushed over to him and he gave me a tight hug, not wanting to let go, not wanting to lose sight of me ever again. I felt the same way toward him as I returned the affectionate embrace. With my arms around him, my face pressed against his shoulder that was covered in the soft, checkered shirt material, I knew that to be near him already ensured me all the security in the world.
"Oh, Pearl, where've you been, luv? I was so worried 'bout ya!" John's comforting and reassuring voice drifted to my ears.
"I couldn't find you, and I didn't know where you went. It all happened so fast, then you were gone!" It seemed like I was on the verge of tears although I was overjoyed that I finally found my brother. We finally relinquished each other and John placed his hand on my shoulder. He looked at me, ready to speak. As I looked up into his true, valiant, noble eyes, fear finally relinquished my mind. I was free, safe and protected.
"I toldja to come 'ere after the performance, remember, luv? So I waited ... " John said, his sentence trailing off, seeing no point in continuing what was obvious. I scanned my memory and tried to recall the moment he told me to meet him. I didn't remember it, probably because my excitement made little details a little blurred.
But now, it didn't matter. I was reunited with my big brother.
"'Salright, Pearl, at least yer safe with me now. If something happ'nd to you, I would've died. I wouldn't know how to go on. I love you so much." He lovingly ran his callused hand through my long, straight, dark brown hair.
"I wouldn't know how to live without you either, John. I love you with all my heart." The words came from deep within my soul, from the purest honesty that existed within my ocean of virtues.
Then I heard a little creak, similar to when a door is moved slightly ajar.
He waited patiently at the doorway the whole time, not even taking more than two steps into the Hall. Now he was just going to leave! I realized that my newfound friend, like a cherub-cheeked guardian angel, was going to slip away, having performed the good deed he was sent to do.
"Paul!" I called out as I ran to catch him before he left. "Paul, don't leave yet, please. C'mon, I want ya to meet my brother. Is that okay? Please, you've helped me so much."
"Sure, I'll be glad to meet your brother. I just wasn't sure if I should stay or not. 'Felt like I was intrudin' a bit," Paul said shyly, half of his body out the door, the other half still inside.
"Oh, you weren't intruding at all! Come 'ead," I led him over to John, who was waiting to find out who this baby-faced boy, whom I made such a fuss over, was.
"John, this is James Paul McCartney, but call him Paul. And Paul, this is my brother, John Winston Lennon," I introduced the two of them. I explained to John the whole bit of me losing my barrette and Paul coming up with the idea of searching the Hall.
"Thanks, mate, thanks for helpin' me lit'le sister 'ere. You don't know how much it means to me," John began to speak to a wide-eyed Paul. Paul didn't say anything for a while, but just stared at my brother. Awe filled his eyes, and he had amazement painted all over his face.
"N-no problem," Paul replied slowly. "You're-you're the leader of that gear rock 'n roll band that played earlier today! You're really good, man, really good," Paul praised John. Then Paul turned to me with a smile on his face.
"You ne'er told me this chap was yer brother!"
"You ne'er asked," I giggled as I glanced at John, who was a bit skeptical of this younger lad, and looked slightly uncomfortable at the moment. He was grateful that Paul brought me back to him, but I knew John was thinking about the age gap between them.
"Yer how old now, there?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, I turned fifteen on the 18th of June. I suppose that you're sixteen, close to seventeen, right?" Paul asked, a bit intimidated now that John brought up the subject.
"Yeh, that's right," John answered slowly, condescendingly. Then he quickly changed the subject and wanted to leave.
"All right, Pearl, it's gettin' late, and I haveta go get me guitar tuned by--" John was interrupted.
"Um, if you don't mind, I could tune your guitar for ya," Paul interjected with caution.
"You? Y'know how to tune a guitar?" John suddenly became a bit more interested. I winked at Paul. That was a smart move on his part.
"Yeh, here, I'll show you how," Paul extended his hand out as John handed over his guitar. I pulled up three chairs so we could relax instead of stand the entire time.
Taking a seat in between John and me, Paul took the guitar in hand and tuned it perfectly. It sounded great once he was done. Up till now, John was paying someone to tune his guitar for him!
"See? That was easy, and that's all you had to do," Paul said as he beamed proudly at his work. "I also noticed the banjo chords--"
"You knew I was playin' banjo chords, too?" John questioned in disbelief.
"Uh huh," Paul nodded. "Here's a guitar chord instead. Take your fingers and place them like this. I'm left-handed, so it looks kinda backwards, but that's okay. Then you go like this!"
With that, Paul finally broke the ice with his rendition of one of John's favorite songs, 'Twenty Flight Rock.' Brilliantly strumming on the guitar, not missing a beat, not missing a note or key, not even missing a single lyric of the song, Elvis-look-alike/sound-alike Paul McCartney played as if this single song would change the entire course of his young life.
I watched them both: Two musicians who shared the same fiery passion for the same fiery music that inspired the both of them. It was very magical to see the two of them hit it off so well. The age difference no longer mattered. Paul shone like the glowing, bright, blue sky, and John, as the awaiting, patient, aqua sea, received him well. They created the brilliant horizon of friendship that bound them together forever; the both of them supported the sunny sphere of music as well as supported each other.
They became fast friends, sky and sea, joined together by the powerful love for music.
By now, Paul was done singing. John and I applauded at his performance, and Paul was beaming in response. He knew he made an impression, and was that one heck of an impression or what?
"I say, lad, that was a gear show. You'll haveta write down the lyrics to that song for me!" John said with great enthusiasm as we all rose to leave the Hall.
"Thanks! I'll have to go home and write 'em down. I don't think I have time now," Paul glanced at his watch, latched onto his left wrist. "Crap, I was right! I haveta go home and take care of me lit'le brother. I'm late. I'll see you later perhaps?"
"Hell, Paul, you wanna join the Quarry Men? I've got to get you into me band! I'll gladly accept you, mate!" John said smiling, not wanting to miss this opportunity of enhancing the skill level of his band. He finally found someone with enough talent to musically challenge him in a good way. Plus, the band would look better with someone else who actually knew what he was doing, and he did it well.
Paul's jaw dropped. He was surprised, no doubt. "You-you want me? Really?" he stammered. "Yeh, I'd love to join! That'd be great!" The smile on his face grew larger and larger; the twinkle in his eye sparkled with delight.
John patted Paul's shoulder proudly. "Then you're in! But, jeez, I don't have any paper to write down yer address ta where ya live," he scratched his head in thought. Just then, I had an idea.
"Here, Paul, write your address on my hand. Here's my pen," I offered, smiling. I always carry a pen around with me, just in case. It did come in handy sometimes, and this happened to be one of the times. Paul smiled back and quickly wrote down his address.
"There ya go! Thanks so much, but I have to get goin'! Me dad's gonna kill me if I don't get home in time to look after Mike!"
"I'll stop by yer house Saturday, 'bout a week from now, then we'll work things out later, all right?" John speedily arranged his next meeting with Paul. "You get goin' now, young lad!"
"Bye, Paul! Thank you again for all your help!" I said to him gratefully.
"All right! I'll be expectin' ya on Saturday! Bye, John! Bye, Paulina!" Paul sprinted out the door while waving and smiling his heart out. The blur of the white blazer, the black pants, the brown hair, the guardian angel that materialized into a young, spry teenager soon disappeared in a matter of milliseconds.
"Look, John, he lives on Forthlin Road. That's not far from Mendips at t'all, 'bout a mile," I said, reading the address on my hand.
"You bein' all prepared with a pen … typical," John teased me while looking at the address. Then he turned to me and asked, "That Paul McCartney was a really fab guitar player, don'tcha think?"
"Yeh, he was! And he was really nice. But y'know, he knew all the lyrics to 'Twenty Flight Rock'! That was very impressive, even if he's only fifteen, John," I emphasized his age, just to show that although Paul was younger, he could be just as good as my brother. Ever since John started the band, John was the leader, outshining the rest of his mates in talent. Now since he met Paul, he's found an equal, and I'm really happy about that. John can improve on his skill while playfully rivaling this newcomer.
Once again, I had this feeling of excitement inside of me, similar to the one I had this morning and during John's performance. I was smiling so much on the inside.
John picked up his guitar, took my hand and we were on our way home. I looked at his face, filled with radiating exuberance. This particular expression could only be shown by a countenance; no words can adequately illustrate that much shining happiness, that much glowing vivacity.
His band was on his way. Just a few steps closer to sheer success …
"Oh ... if that's what you really want ... I guess I can let it be. I understand … Yeah … Okay, see ya later, mate …" John slowly and reluctantly agreed as he hung up the phone. The sun shone calmly and clearly through John's window, but it didn't help. Pete Shotton was on the phone … John's friend didn't bail out on him, it's just he couldn't spend the rest of his young life only playing music when he had school, a job, and other plans.
"Don't feel bad John, it's all right," I walked into his room and sat down on the bed. He was lying on it, looking up at the ceiling.
"I know that, but the band is practically gone, can't you see? Pete was the most reliable one, and he just jumped ship. *Sigh* … " He covered his face with his hands in frustration, then ran them through his gelled brown hair.
"What 'bout Paul? That boy is gonna stay in the band, gonna stay with you all the way, I know it. You're gonna see him today, remember?" I said, trying to cheer him up.
"I know that too. He can play lead or rhythm. We can switch off," John placed a hand in his leather jacket pocket while the other hand was above his head, resting on the pillow. "But Paul might 'ave to play bass since I can't play it. That leaves me playin' lead or rhythm, but I can't play them at the same time! That's the only problem, Pearl, the only bloody problem."
I sighed as I brought up my suggestion. "Maybe you haveta find someone else--"
"Who else am I gonna find? There's virtually no one left in all of Liverpool."
"Aw, John, don't be so negative!" I smiled as I hopped off the bed. "You'll find someone, I know."
"Yer always so sure of yourself, luv," John said as he smiled, sat up, and also got up off the bed. "All right, all right, I'll quit with bein' so negative. Cynical, is perhaps the word you were looking fer. Maybe this 'someone' will fall out of the sky and land me lap."
I giggled as we both walked downstairs and into the den and reminded Mimi that we were going to Paul's house.
Once again, she looked at him quizzically, and told John that she wanted to meet this 'Paul McCartney' before anything else. At this, John rolled his eyes and promised he'd ask Paul when he could come over and be introduced. Mimi nodded her head in approval. I gave her a hug, said goodbye and John and I were out of the house, walking to Forthlin Road, in Allerton, Liverpool.
~~~***~~~
"Hey! It's gear seein' you again, John, Paulina! C'mon in!" Paul greeted us warmly as he ushered us into his living room. "Have a seat 'ere, I haveta go get somethin' from me room!" He disappeared, dashing to his room. John sat on the couch and I took a seat in a chair across him. We sat in silence, looking around the house. It was a nice little home: Comfortable, warm, loving, with that close and tight family bond feeling.
"Whew! Found them!" Paul proudly announced. He rushed back downstairs. "Sorry to keep ya waiting, but 'ere you go, John. I hope you can read it." The younger musician handed over a sheet of paper with the typical, messy handwriting of a boy scribbled all over it, like he wrote it in a race against time.
"Aw, great, it's the lyrics! Thanks, Paul!" John exclaimed thankfully as he skimmed through the handwritten document.
"Paul, didja get home in time last week to take care of your younger brother?" I asked, just to make sure he didn't get in trouble because of us.
"Oh, yeh, it worked out fine," Paul said, grinning and taking a seat next to John on the couch. Then he grew serious. "Thanks for asking. Y'know, I wish you two could meet me dad and brother … "
Twang. A distinct audible feeling sounded inside of me. Something about that last statement made by Paul sent a chill up my spine. It was not a chill of fear, but a chill of some sort of sadness, combined with a tiny bit of emptiness, a hint of remorse, and slow recovery.
I didn't want to ruin a moment, so I decided to wait until a better time to ask about it.
"They went out to finish up some errands of some sort, but I don't know when they'll be back. I'm sorry," Paul continued.
"That's quite all right," John said. "Me aunt wants to meet you sometime, if that's all right with you, then."
"Oh, yeh, I can do that. Will she like me?" Paul grinned.
"That depends if you act like a perfect, lit'le lad, or yer normal self," John remarked.
"Paul, just be yerself. That's the best piece of advice I can give ya," I added with a smile.
"Aw, you mean I can't go all out on the charm? I could, if you'd like," Paul said slyly.
"That would just be plain disgustin', Paul. Don't even bring that up. You can pretend yer perfect, but just don't slosh yer act in superficial charm. I hate it."
"Heh, all right, John. Just tell me when I can go get her approval, okay?"
"Okay, and oh, y'know, Paul, I've got something to tell ya," John cleared his throat.
"Yeah, John? Is there somethin' wrong? What happened? Was, or is it me … ?" Paul asked a little fearfully.
"No, no, don't get that idea into yer head! It wasn't you at t'all. It's just that me mates who were in the band couldn't stay in anymore. So it's you and me, and some other blokes we could hire. But for real band members, it's just you and me … I hope. Are ya dedicated enough to stay in the band permanently? Are you gonna stay with me on this?" my brother asked, desperately hoping for a positive answer.
"Oh … " Paul looked down at the cushion of the couch as if avoiding John's sad eyes. "I'm-I'm so sorry that the band almost disintegrated … Oh … But John … " Paul began, finally plucking up the courage to face him. John braced for the negative response he knew he was going to receive.
"John, I'm gonna stay with ya all the way! I loved every moment of knowing that I was actually gonna be in a band with a gifted guitar player like you! Of course I'm dedicated! This is great, playin' the music I love anytime at t'all!" Paul said energetically as he surprised John with his resolute and sincere response.
"Yay!" I exclaimed. I leaped up and gave the both of them hugs. There was so much warmth that filled the room. I sat next to John on the couch and ruffled up his hair to congratulate him some more.
Usually John would tease me back, but he just sat still, smiling. He really didn't respond; he was gone. My brother was in a state of sparkling, joyous shock. He had found his partner, but this time, it was for real. No longer transitory, this was for keeps.
"And, if you don't mind," Paul began. "Um, since the band is just us right now, I know this, um, other lad … We've got to get him into our band. He's the best. You haveta meet him, please, just one lit'le request from me?"
"Paul, this 'other lad' must be good if you think he's good," John said dreamily, here with us physically and partially here with us mentally. "But I'll still have to meet him and see if he can actually play, ya know, just to make sure."
"John, don't worry 'bout a thing! I won't letcha down, I swear. Just give 'im a chance! Tomorrow at nine o'clock in the mornin', meet me at bus stop number 72, all right?" Paul eagerly arranged plans.
I gladly and happily agreed, answering for John too. I thanked Paul for his kind company and for letting us visit and chat. Auntie was expecting us to be back for dinner, so I took John's hand and we said our goodbyes. Well, Paul and I said our goodbyes. He was very kind, very sweet, and totally understanding when John wasn't quite 'there' at the time. Both Paul and I softly giggled at this, and then John and I departed. Being John's designated guide, I led him back home and eventually back to earth. I welcomed him back with a smile and told him about tomorrow. He was very surprised to see that we got back home, but he smiled back and thanked me for helping him out.
This summer was so gear, but I knew that it was just getting started!
On to Chapter 4.
Back tothe Intro.
