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George Harrison wandered into a music store he hadn’t noticed before, on a main street in a town just outside London. The world-famous musician hadn’t seen this establishment the many times he walked by. Nor did he see any construction work to create such a building. Still not one to over look such a business, the tall brown-haired man past the threshold inside. He wasn’t seeking out to make a purchase, but simply looking to browse, not really expecting to find much.
Entering the structure, George noticed a young hippy looking lady clerk sitting on the counter, with her legs crossed. She had long brown curly hair, hazel brown eyes and a pointy face, as she wore a loose peasant shirt and bell bottom jeans. The brown-haired worker was sitting with her legs crossed as she was playing a lyre, made with ox horn and primitive looking strings. It was clearly a handcrafted device, but she played it well. The young woman smiled as the famous man entered the store, but continued her song.
“Welcome.” She sang, while still engaged with her instrument. “Take a look around…” The woman continued to sing. “If you need a helping hand… just call me by name.” Then she gazed into his eyes. “Persephone.” The lady finished with a smile. George wasn't sure if this was her normal entry, or she was showing off because he was famous. Choosing not to draw attention, he nodded without a noise and looked around in the same manner.
He noticed a small section of new instruments, but the majority of the shop was filled with old methods of sound through the ages. Older instruments were nice as an aesthetic but their sound quality usually lack the luster of the newer devices. So, the serious musician focused on the items necessary for his trade. George did check out a few guitars, mostly electric ones, as they were used more in his career, but he still enjoyed acoustic guitars as well. The shop had an impressive collection for an obscure music establishment. Then suddenly, Harrison heard somebody going back and forth on a harp. Then the distinct sound of the Pan flute played along. The music came from the back room and the Beatle was indeed curious.
Wandering through one room and through another, the lead guitarists found himself surrounded by old instruments, but the music abruptly stopped when he arrived to a giant gold harp, without any strings. Queer, the man thought to himself, but maybe the business was trying to impress him, which was not uncommon, but no one came forth with musical talent. Just a room with old instruments, but nothing the man could really use. George had enough with the hidden antics to impress him and turned to leave, when something caught his attention.
A little ukulele, was held up with a child’s size mannequin holding the miniature looking guitar, in the position to be played. It was a clever set, George had to admit, as he found himself undressing the store doll for it’s device. He gave it a little flick and to his surprise, the strings were tuned. He began to play around with it and the miniature guitar played beautifully. Shit, it really did have a nice sound and it felt nice to hold. Realizing he was making a purchase after all, the youngest Beatle returned to the front of the store to buy the item, but no one was there.
Upon leaving the back, George found the entire front in shambles, and set in dust. Like a dilapidated abandoned shop. Turning from the room he came from was also a mess. They were no instruments anywhere, just wooden beams and old paint cans.
“Hello!” the man called out, but there was no answer. The ukulele was still in his hand and he didn’t feel right just taking it. However, when he saw the mannequin again, it was a shattered mess and covered in dust. So begrudgingly the wealthy man walked out the building, ukulele in hand, unpaid for. Once he was on the sidewalk, he turned to look at the building and found it all boarded up including the door.
When he crossed the street and reached the other sidewalk he turned again, and found the establishment completely gone. It was just an empty space in its place. George didn’t know what to make of this strange occurrence, so he decided it would be best to just go home. Upon returning to his house, the man brought in his new ukulele, poured himself a drink, sat down on his sofa and began playing with his new toy. It was a delightful little device. The strings were perfectly tune still and played beautifully.
It wasn’t long before George’s wife entered the home. It looked like she just finished her evening run, as the beautiful blonde model wore blue sweatpants and a white T-shirt, with the city name “London” printed on it.
“Oh, you’re home.” Patti Boyd-Harrison observed when reaching the parlor. She hurried by and poured herself a glass of water from the tap. “Do you want anything?” the wife offered her husband.
“No,” he answered, still playing his instrument. “I’m good.” The blonde woman waltzed in with ice water in one hand and a cigarette in another. Seeing her musical spouse was playing a stringed instrument, the courteous lady chose to sit on the love seat, next to the couch George was sitting on. The music her handsome husband was creating was beautiful, and she sat back enjoying it, while sipping her water and smoking her cigarette.
Then the Harrison pet cat Smokey made her entrance, gracefully taking silent steps with all four paws. Smokey was usually a daddy’s girl. Mostly because he gave her treat’s, however the pet humans hands were playing the ukulele and not holding her snack. The feline sat on the rug between the two humans, looking them over, rather judgmentally. She gave George an unpleasant look as if to say,
“I prefer her over you!” and then the four-legged creature hopped on the love seat and was on Patti’s lap.
“Awww…” The wife playfully cried. “You chose me today.” The cat responded by purring loudly, as of to rub it in her dad’s face. Then Pattie leaned back, with her head facing the ceiling. “I always wanted to fuck John.” She suddenly admitted. Humiliated and unable to look at her husband, she leapt from her seat, forcing Smokey off her lap, and ran to their room. George could hear the door lock soon after. He stopped playing, trying to figure out what the hell just transpired.
Did he do something wrong! And what the fuck, why was Patti lusting for John like that? However, after a moment thinking it over, he himself had literally jerked off while thinking about all of his mates’ girls from time to time. So, could he really fault his wife for lusting for his friend? Still confused, George just slept on the couch to avoid any issue. He woke early the next morning and found something fresh to wear from the dryer. Harrison wanted to leave for the studio early, to avoid upsetting his wife. He’ll talk to her about her admission later on.
However, before he left, he saw the ukulele he had just obtained and found himself putting it into a small case and bringing it to the studio. When reaching the destination, George was alone and half the group was going to be late. Mind you, he usually was too. Today was queer already, so he plopped on the couch and began to play with the tiny guitar. A few songs past, when his manager Brian Epstein walked in, on time for him and well dress. Surprised to see George early, the manager walked over to the youngest Beatle playing with his ukulele.
“You know, I always thought you were sexier than Paul.” He suddenly admitted and then instantly became red. “I don’t know what came over me.” The flustered man cried out. He quickly gathered his belongings and left without another word. George didn’t even get a chance to make a response, everything just happened so fast. Putting his instrument down Harrison decided he would think better if he had coffee, so he got up and made a pot, then looked over the itinerary for the day.
By then Ringo Starr came in, as expected. The man was remarkably punctual. He joined George with a cup of Joe and small talk as they both sat down in the lounge. Then Harrison pulled out his new toy and proceeded to play his little device for his friend. Starr smiled as he tapped a beat out with his hand to his lap, to the tune being played.
“God, I love you as much as my wife!” The small man blurted out. George stopped playing and like Brian and his wife before, the blue eyes widen when realizing the admission and his skin became red.
“Rich?” George uttered, not sure what to say. Then Ringo leapt from his seat.
“I need to go home!” Ringo cried and quickly left the building, only to return to get his coat and keys, but was quickly back out, and then gone. Poor Harrison was confused to what transpired. Today was just a queer day, with everyone acting queerly and he didn’t understand why. Then about an hour later, John Lennon and Paul McCartney came into the studio. They were late as always and seemed to be arguing. Which is also a regular occurrence. The pair fought like a married couple. This comparison has been brought to both party’s attention, as well as the idea they should just Fuck and get it over with. Harrison was guilty of such mockery, but it served them right! Pompous as they are!
“When did you get here?” John asked, noticing he and Paul weren’t alone.
“More than an hour ago.” George answered.
“Nice little ukulele you got there.” Paul told the player.
“Why are you changing the subject? “ Lennon pecked, clearly still angry.
“I’m not! “ McCartney protested. “For fuck sakes, I’m just complementing the man's instrument!”
“You complement him, but not me!” John cried all emotional all of the sudden.
“What are you talking about? “ The bass player asked confused.
“I’m in love with you, but I know you will reject me.” The man in glasses uttered with a broken voice. Paul just stared in horror of the admission, then his as if he were possessed, he found himself saying the following.
“I feel the same way about you, but I’m utterly terrified to explore that part of myself.” Then the long fingers grace the round face, and Paul immediately began backing away.
“Paulie,” John said softly. “…don’t be scared.” Then cautiously Lennon approached his disputing partner and the pair kissed. That’s when George stopped playing. In complete surprise he watched the two front singers make out. Not knowing what else to do, Harrison got up and left. The kissing pair didn’t seem to notice.
Leaving the studio, as obviously shit wasn’t happening today, George drove off. Void of anything else to do, the ukulele owner returned to the shop, but the building was still gone. So strange how nothing made sense, but the man drove on. Feeling confused Harrison made his way deep into the countryside, to avoid the urban surroundings. Mostly to clear his head. He came upon a little wooded area and decided it was wise to walk off his troubles. The musician instinctly took the ukulele with him and played as he wandered the land.
The music over powered the air and nature itself was at a standstill to it’s tune. A bit into the distance of the path, Harrison approach to Creek cutting through the land. It’s watered moved rapidly and a bridge was on the path to cross it. However, the Beatle didn’t want to travel that far. Instead, he crouched by the waters edge, and hovered the mini guitar above the moving waves.
“I don’t understand exactly what you are,” George told the gift from the strange woman. “…but you seem to cause trouble and I don’t need that. Go back to Persephone.” He told the magical item and with those words, the man laid the wooden instrument on the water. Instantly the tiny guitar flowed down stream, disappearing within seconds. The lad was glad to be rid of it. Quickly the man left for home, with the intention of making peace with his wife.
Evening fell, and deep in the forest, a fox approach the stream. The ukulele had traveled quite some distance, but the orange creature found it anyways. Then the cat like dog transformed into the clerk from the shop. She smiled as her hands pulled the floating ukulele from the water.
“Mortal’s can’t handle the truth!” Persephone stated while holding the magical instrument in her hands. Then she and the ukulele disappeared, leaving behind the truth it revealed.