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"Damn! Where is it..."
Micky peeked into the door of his and Mike's bedroom to see a frustrated Mr. Nesmith rummaging through a pile of clothes on the floor. Micky's clothes, at that. Micky flew open the door and walked in. "Mike, what are you doing?! Those are my things!"
Mike, without looking up from whatever he was doing, (at that point clothes were flying everywhere, and one of Micky's christmas sweaters was just thrown at his face),mumbled, "I'm looking for somethin' of mine, don't worry 'bout it ."
Micky, as confused (and as annoyed) as he was, decided to let Mike look for whatever he was looking for. The look on Mike's face was evidence enough that Mike was searching for something important. Micky walked past Mike and the pile of clothes and sat criss-cross on his bed and watched Mike throw clothes to each corner of their room. "Well, Mike, can't... can't you just tell me what you're looking for? Maybe I can-"
"It's nothin'."
"-help..."
A few minutes of silence passed before Micky spoke up again. "Mike, really, you've been searching for, uh, whatever you've been looking for, for 10 minutes, just tell me what it is! I want to help you, babe."
Mike, who at that point was deep in the closet digging in the pockets of coats, stopped and turned to face Micky. He sighed. "Listen Mick, I'm lookin' for somethin' my Ma gave me, and, uh..." he paused for a second. Micky waited. "... and it's sorta sentimental to me, you see, and I just... it's sorta embarrassing for me, that's why i don't want your help."
Mike started to turn red, and he quickly went back into the closet to search. Micky was confused. Mike isn't the shy type. Quiet, maybe, but he's not the type to hide something from any of the guys, especially Micky. "Embarrassing? Like... an ugly photo of you as a kid or something?"
Mike chuckled, but then quickly took back the smile. "No... no, nothin' like that."
Micky concentrated closely on Mike, trying to figure him out. "Is it like... a baby blanket or something?"
Mike shrugged. "Well, that's close but- wait what am I doin'?" He shook his head and sighed. "Micky, it's just-"
"Mike, come on!" Micky said louder than he expected, and his tone even surprised him. He cleared his throat and looked at Mike, who was wide eyed and sort of shrunken down, like he was just yelled at by a strict teacher. Micky then quietly said, "Mike, you don't have to hide anything from me. I'm your friend, and I won't laugh or anything. Just tell me what it is you're looking for."
Mike sighed, and trudged over to the bed where Micky was sitting and sat down next to him. He folded his hands and looked down. "Ok, Mick, I'll tell ya. Just promise you won't say anythin' till i'm done tellin' my story, ok?"
Micky smiled. "Sure, man. You don't feel like I'm forcing you to tell me... do you?"
Mike was silent for a minute, and Micky started to get worried, like he forced his friend into telling him something personal. But Mike just smiled and said, "No, man, I've been meaning to talk about this with someone. Honest."
Micky smiled big, and nudged Mike with his shoulder. "So c'mon man, tell me the story!" Mike laughed, glad to see his friend acting like his normal, fun-loving self. He decided to play along a bit.
"So you really want to hear the story, Micky?"
"Uh-huh, uh-huh!"
"Well then sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!" Micky laid down on the bed and looked up at Mike with puppy eyes. What a goof, Mike thought. "
Alright. Here's my story. Well, you see, back in Texas, when a new baby is born, and it's celebrated like a holiday. The whole family gathers together to wait for the kid to be born, and when the mom comes out of the hospital with the new baby, it's like a war just ended, and the home team won. Everyone's hootin' and hollerin', and there is confetti and cake... Anyhow, it wasn't like that when I was born. You see, I was born at the hardest time in my family's life, my Pa just lost his farm, and my Ma was already takin' care of 2 other little ones, so when I was born, it came more as one extra problem other than a celebration. I mean, my whole family was still there, cheerin' and all when my Ma and I came out of the hospital, and I heard that the party was super groovy, but the fact was that everyone knew that there was no time to celebrate. Work had to be done, ya know? A new baby and no money, well, the relatives helped out, but it wasn't that good. Well, a few years past, things are gettin' better, and here I am, little ol' me playin' with the neighbors, a little spoiled, without a care in the world. I didn't really think about my family's troubles, cuz I was raised to think that everything was ok, and everything was gonna stay ok, cuz my Ma didn't want me thinking we were poor or nothin', even though we were. But then, skip ahead a few more years, it was my 10th birthday, and things were still bad. 10 years later, all the money issues only slowly getting better, but my Ma still wanted me to have my birthday party. See, at that time I still didn't know that my family was in big trouble, cuz I was hidden from that reality. So my 10th birthday was exciting to me, but it was stressful to my parents, because they used a lot of their saving money for my big ten-oh. So sometime during my birthday party, my Ma walked up to me and she says, 'Michael, there's a lot you don't know, a lot that you need to know, but today, everything is alright.' And she hugged me and gave me this toy, you see. It was a small stuffed monkey, hand-made, and over the years i've learned to really appreciate the delicateness of the thing. But back then, I was a selfish 10 year old boy, I didn't want no doll for my birthday. I wanted some wooden gun, or somethin' stupid like that, ya know? And my Ma didn't have any other presents for me, so I threw it on the ground, and ran away cryin'. I was just thinkin' of myself, and i only realized that after I ran a few blocks away. So, I wiped my tears and decided to go back and apologize. At that time I was thinking, 'Well, I didn't get what i wanted, but I over reacted. I'll just go and forgive Ma for not getting me what I wanted and apologize for freakin' out.' And so i headed back to my party, which did i mention was at the local park? Well, that's where it was, so when I went back, I looked around for my Ma and I couldn't find her. I asked one of the adults there where they last saw her, and apparently she had left the party to go home. That made me feel even more guilty. So, I decided to head back to the place where i threw down the monkey so I could just pick it up and walk home, cuz i was feeling pretty down in the dumps then. When I got to the place where i threw down the toy, it wasn't there, so i looked around for it for a while. I couldn't find it, so I decided to leave without it. But then i saw it on a picnic table, with a small note from my Ma on it. So I grabbed the monkey and the note and walked home." Mike stopped. Micky, whose eyes were closed, not asleep, but taking in the story, peeked open one eye and stared at Mike. A few more seconds passed and Mike said nothing. Micky sat up and leaned forward to look at Mike's face.
"Are you gonna continue?" He asked. Mike shrugged, his head turned away.
"C'mon, there has to be more than that. Did you reconcile with your mom? What about the toy? Is that what you're looking for?"
"Just forget it, Micky." Mike didn't shout it. In fact, Micky could hardly hear him. Micky sat up next to Mike. "Mike, you ok?"
Suddenly Mike turned and looked at Micky. He looked at him straight in the eyes, and Micky was surprised to see what he saw. Mike's eyes were red and swollen, and a few tears were streaming down his soft face. Micky was about to say something when, with a shaky voice, Mike continued. "I went on home you see, and when I got there, I expected to see my Ma just waiting there for me, maybe ready to punish me for running away. But she wasn't there, so I just threw the stuffed monkey in a corner, sat in my bedroom, and read a comic book. I waited, Micky, I waited for hours. When i finally heard the door slam, I ran downstairs, and I was gonna apologize when-" Mike paused, and took a deep, shaky breath. "-when, my older sister ran up to me, with big ol' tears in her eyes and gave me a hug. She just held me there, in the middle of the floor and hugged me and cried for about 20 minutes, and I didn't know what she was doin', when finally... she told me what happened." Mike stopped, and stayed silent for a while, but Micky said nothing. Mike continued. "My mom died in a hit and run accident. She was walking home from my party, when some bastard hit her. The only reason she went home was because of me. Because I yelled at her."
"Mike, it wasn't your-"
"Let me finish, Mick. So I locked myself in my room and cried that whole night, and the only thing in my mind was my fault, my fault. But the next day when I woke up, snot and tears all over my pillow, i remembered the note on the monkey. Weakly, I walked over to where i threw the monkey and I picked it up. But i didn't read the note. Not until i turned 20. 10 years after the accident. I wasn't ready 'til then." Mike paused to look at Micky. "You know what it said, Mick? It said, 'Stay safe my little Monkee.' Monkee with two e's."
Micky's eyes started to water. "You thought of our name, Mike."
"Yeah, i did. I named us 'The Monkees' cuz of a stupid note from my mom. I'm still selfish, Mick, cuz I used that as our name."
Micky suddenly wrapped his arms around Mike, and with watering eyes he said, "No Mike, that's not true. You named us the Monkees because that stuffed monkey meant something to you, and we mean something to you. Heck, Mike, I've always been proud to be a Monkee. But now I'm even more proud, because now i know what it really means. What it really means to you."
Mike, at first taken aback by Micky's hug, found himself hugging him back. "Yeah, Micky? What does being a Monkee mean, then?" He let go of Mike and put his hand on his shoulder, and looked the Texan right in the eye. "Babe, it means that wherever we go, we'll always have each other, like your mom, who will always look over you. Me, Peter, Davy, we'll take care of you, and you'll take care of us. You're no longer a lone Monkee. We're all the Monkees, and that will never change."
At that, Mike started to cry again, but this time he was also smiling. Micky was also happiliy crying, and they hugged again. This time, however, Mike didn't feel any awkwardness between them when they hugged, and they sat there for a long time, both of them quiet. After a while, Mike leaned away from Micky and wiped his eyes, and so did Micky. Then Micky remembered. "Oh! We have to find your stuffed monkey! C'mon, I'll help."
Micky jumped up off of the bed, again back to his normal, fun loving self, and started to throw clothes all around. Mike smiled to himself and got up.
"Mick, come on, I already looked there." Mike started to search with Micky, throwing clothes and things everywhere, sometime at each other.
"Hey, that's my new jacket, don't wrinkle it!"
"Say please!"
"Plea- Hey don't throw that at me! My porcelain crowns!" Soon both of them were on the floor, laughing so hard that tears were in their eyes, and they seemed to have forgotten their heart-to-heart conversation. But neither of them had forgotten. Micky saw Mike differently now; more sensitve and more sad, which made him want to protect him more, to pay more attention to him, and care for him. But it wasn't a pitiful feeling he had for him, it was more like he knew him more for who he really was. And Mike saw Micky differently, too. Mike was so used to seeing Micky as the crazy one of the bunch, and wasn't used to seeing him so gentle and considerate. The times when Micky Dolenz becomes serious are rare ones, and Mike uses those rare moments as times to learn more about his somewhat mysterious band mate. Suddenly, they heard a knock at their door. Breathless and laughing, Micky said, "Come on in!"
Davy opened the door, and looked at his two friends laying in a pile of clothes. "Um... did I interrupt something?" Mike and Micky looked at each other then laughed.
"You guys aren't high... are you?" Micky looked up at his British band mate and smiled.
"Nah, babe. Me and Mike were just having a heart-to-heart." Micky looked to Mike and winked. Mike smiled.
Davy scoffed. "Oh yeah, I can see that. Well, me and Pete are back from the store and ready for practice, so if you guys are done making clothes-angels-"
"We'll be there in a sec," Mike said.
"But what about the monkey?" Micky mouthed to Mike. Mike grinned and stood up. "I think i'll worry about that later. I have more important monkeys to attend to." Mike held out his hand, and Micky took it and got up off the floor.
"I'll be there in a sec, Mike. I think my drum sticks are in here."
"Ok, Mick."Mike followed Davy out the door. But Micky snuck behind, and took the small monkey out of his pocket and placed it on Mike's nightstand.
"I always wondered what your story was." And with that Micky smiled slyly and headed out the door, but not before grabbing his drum sticks.
End