He sighed as he stood, looking around to make sure the man would be alright here. Turning towards the opening of the alley, he ran, hoping he'd be able to find his way back to hide-out before anyone else recognized him.

When Micky didn't return right away, Mike and Peter decided to walk out to the car and find out what was keeping him. When they arrived, there was no sign of Micky anywhere.

"Now where could he be? We need to get to the hospital." Mike grumbled.

"You don't suppose something happened to Micky too, do you?" Peter whimpered.

"Naw! He's just goofing off somewhere."

"Mike, look!" Peter pointed to an alley where Micky was leaning against the wall, holding his head.

Peter and Mike ran over to join him.

"Micky! What happened?" Peter asked, letting the drummer lean on him as they went back to the car.

"Davy! I saw Davy!" he whispered.

"You saw him? Where?" Mike asked.

"He was on the street corner. I called out to him, but he ran...down that alley." he pointed to the alley.

Mike looked as if he was going to run down there to look for Davy, but Micky grabbed his arm. "Don't bother. He's gone."

"Did he do this to you?" Peter asked, astonished.

Micky nodded, then held his head as another wave of dizziness hit him. Mike grabbed him and shoved him into the car.

"Come on. We have to get to the hospital to talk to Frank. Better let the doctor take a look at you while we're there."

Micky waved him off saying he was fine, but knew Mike wasn't going to take "no" for an answer.

By way of a few street signs and land marks, Davy finally found his way back to the hide-out. Brushing himself off and running his fingers through his hair, he walked in. He immediately felt the tension in the air as he shut the door behind him.

Bessie was standing there, hands behind her back, as if she had been waiting for him since he'd left.

Lenny had his back to him, poking at the fire in the fireplace. Davy could tell the older man was avoiding eye contact.

"Well, Davy. Where have you been all this time? We were starting to get worried." Bessie asked.

"I just went for a walk, that's all. I had some thinking to do." Davy didn't want to tell her about his wandering too far and getting lost; then running into some man who claimed to know him.

"Lenny tells me you were a little upset about having to kill that man." she said with mock concern.

"Yes!" he nodded. "But I'll be alright."

"That's my boy. A real trooper!" she grinned, then took the thin stick she had been holding behind her back and brought it across his face.

He stumbled back and grabbed his cheek, trying to ease the stinging pain. He could feel the warm blood trickling between his fingers.

"Bessie!" Lenny turned around to face the woman. For a few seconds he felt he had enough nerve to stand up to her. But that quickly died when she turned on him.

"You keep out of this." she shouted. "If you had been keeping an eye on him, none of this would have happened in the first place."

"Bessie, I don't understand." Davy said, his hand still over his cheek. "What did I do?"

"You didn't kill that shop owner. You let him live and you lied about it." she said, waving the stick in front of him. "Don't you ever lie to me again, or you'll face worse than this."

Davy gave a slight nod and went to his cot, taking out his handkerchief and dabbing at the cut on his cheek. A few minutes later, Lenny came over with some hot water and started cleaning Davy's cheek.

"You shouldn't have done that, ya know." Lenny was saying. "You think that was mad? You only got a small taste of what she's like when she's riled. You're lucky you're still alive."

"I couldn't shoot him. I'm not a murderer, Lenny!" Davy argued.

"I know you're not." Lenny said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Davy asked, eyes wide. Didn't Lenny tell him that he had killed before?

"Not now!" Lenny said. He produced a plate of food. "Here, eat!"

Davy took the plate as Lenny made his way back to the fire, and started poking at it again.

All of Davy's thoughts were jumbled. Lenny had told him he had killed before. Now he said he knew Davy wasn't a murderer? And what about that old man back at the shop? He knew Davy. He had said there were others. The man who had been chasing him. What was that all about?

"Why is everything so messed up?" he thought to himself. "Why can't anything make sense?"

Peter and Mike quietly entered the hospital room Frank was staying in. The older man was asleep.

They looked at each other as if asking what they should do. Mike took a deep breath and walked over to the side of the bed.

"Frank?" he said quietly, not wanting to startle the man. "Frank?"

The older man started to stir, then slowly opened his eyes and let out a slight smile. "Hey, Mike."

Mike bent down to hear the man, while Peter came over to the other side of the bed.

"How do you feel, Frank?" Peter asked.

"I'll be alright. Take more than a bullet to put me down." he let out a small chuckle that turned into a fit of coughing.

Mike and Peter looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Peter reached down and put a comforting hand on Frank's shoulder. They stood there until the coughing died down.

"Don't worry, boys." Frank said when he saw the look of concern on their faces. "I'll be fine. I suspect you're here to find out what happened to Davy?"

"Yeah. Do you feel up to talking about it?" Mike asked.

"Sure." he nodded, then went on with the story. "He came in to get coffee and we talked for a bit. I went to get his coffee, and when I turn around, some big guy is telling him to go sit in the booth and keep quiet. Then the woman told me to hand over all the money.  She...she started up a conversation with Davy like...like she knew him."

Mike looked up at Peter. "Well that's one clue."

"Yeah, but how many women does Davy know?" Peter smiled.

"No, guys! It wasn't like that. This woman was in her late forties." Frank smiled. "The man, I believe his name was...Benny or Lenny, something like that...he called her the Big Woman." Frank noted the looks on Peter and Mike's face. "I guess you know them?"

"Yeah, they kidnapped us when we broke down in a ghost town." Peter said.

"But they're supposed to be in jail." Mike argued.

"That's what Davy said. Then she said something about good behavior. Anyway, the woman told the man to kill Davy. The man seemed reluctant to do so, and put up a small argument about it. I watched Davy. He slowly made his way towards the door, but didn't make it. The man hit him with the butt end of his gun."

"That must have been when it happened." Mike said to Peter, who nodded back.

"When what happened?" Frank looked at them curiously.

"It's just a hunch we have, Frank. What else happened?" Mike asked.

"The woman told the man to carry Davy to the car. Then she told me to walk towards the closet. That's the last thing I remember." he said sleepily.

"Thanks, Frank." Mike said, putting his hand on the man's arm. "You've been a big help."

"No problem, boys. Anything I can do to help." he started drifting back to sleep.

"Thanks, Frank. Get better." Peter whispered before following Mike out.

They walked down the hall and entered another room where a doctor was checking over Micky's head.

"How's he, Doc?" Mike asked.

"Oh, he'll be alright." the doctor smiled. "He's got a hard head."

Micky sneered at the doctors back, then looked at Mike and Peter. "Find out anything?"

"A lot!" was Mike's answer. He turned towards the doctor. "Doc, if someone gets hit just right on the head, it could cause amnesia, right?"

"Yes, that's correct. But you don't have to worry about your friend here. He remembers everything."

"No, not him. We're...we're just wondering about someone else." he continued. "Now, say this person has been hit on the head, he has amnesia, and he wakes up in the wrong crowd. Can he be convinced that he's something or somebody he's not?"

"Yes, that is possible." the doctor nodded.

"Well how long till this person gets their memory back?" asked Micky.

"Depends on the person and how hard he was hit. Some cases last for only a few minutes. Others last for years." he shrugged. "But I've noticed in a lot of cases, the victim has dreams or memories that he can't make any sense of. But they're there just the same, wanting to come out."

"Well, thanks for the information, Doc." Mike sighed.

"Anytime. You'll get your bill in the mail." he told Micky.

"Yeah, thanks." Micky winced, wondering how much this was going to set them back.

When the three of them were at the car, Mike and Peter filled Micky in on what Frank had told them.

"You mean it's the Big Woman and Lenny?" Micky exclaimed. "Oh man, why did Davy have to go to the diner that day of all days?"

"No use in asking 'why' and 'what if.' The point is, it happened, and we have to think of some way to help Davy. And I have an idea." Mike smiled.

Davy tossed in his sleep. The man who had been chasing him was haunting his dreams. The man was behind a set of drums.

He looked to his right. There was the man with the green hat, holding a guitar and singing.

He sensed someone to his left also, but the man there was faceless.

They all stopped what they were doing and looked at him expectantly.

"Come on, Davy. Sing." The man behind the drums said.

He just looked at the man, not able to understand what was going on.

"Hello, shotgun, wake up!" the man with the hat said. "Come on, wake up!" he started shaking him, and Davy fought to pull away.

"Davy, wake up!" Bessie said, shaking him.

He rolled over to his back and saw Bessie sitting there.

"Well, good morning, hon." she smiled. "Bad dream?"

Davy propped himself up on his elbows, and looked around. Who were these people that kept invading his dreams?

"What's wrong, Davy?" she asked.

"Nothing." he said. He wasn't going to tell her about the dreams. He didn't want to risk getting her mad again. Lenny! He'd ask Lenny.

"Well, come on." she said, patting his shoulder. "Time for breakfast."

After the breakfast dishes were cleared away, Bessie went over to her chair and began reading in one her magazines while listening to the radio.

Davy leaned over and whispered. "Lenny, we need to talk."

"OK, guys!" Mike said. "How does this sound?

"Wanted: A young man to be caretaker and guard of millionaire beach home while owner is away.   No experience needed. Please contact Mr. Helms at 247-4781."

Mike looked at the other guys expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what?" Peter asked.

"Mike, what does a classified add have to do with getting Davy back?" Micky asked.

"Guys, this is an ad I wrote. We're going to put it in the paper, and hopefully Bessie will get a hold of it and send Davy over here."

"OH!" Micky said as the idea hit him. "She'll send him over here to clean the place out."

"Right." Mike smiled.

"But when he gets here, we'll...what?" Peter asked.

"Uh...well...I haven't got that far yet. We were gonna play this by ear." he smiled.

"I hate to burst your bubble, Mike. But isn't this a long shot? I mean, Bessie might not read the paper tomorrow." Micky said.

"Yeah, I know. But it's the only idea I can come up with. Besides, we can't just sit around and let Davy go on thinking he's a...a thief. What if he kills someone?"

"Awe come on, Mike. Davy wouldn't kill anyone. He didn't last time, remember?" Peter smiled comfortingly.

"Peter, if Bessie keeps him there and keeps trying to convince him that he is a murderer, then there's no telling what he would do."

Lenny and Davy went outside to talk, so that Bessie couldn't over hear them.

"Lenny, yesterday, while I was out, I.. someone saw me." Davy said.

"Who?" Lenny asked.

"He said his name was...Micky." he looked at Lenny questioningly. "Do I know him?"

"Know him?" Lenny laughed nervously. "How should I know who all you've known. I don't keep track of your whereabouts." Truth is, Lenny remembered Micky to be the one who tried to impersonate "The Big Man" back in that ghost town. "What did you do?"

"I ran. I was afraid he was the police. I got into an alley and hid. When he got close enough, I hit him over the head." Davy ran his finger through his hair, and continued. "But that's not all, Lenny. Last night, I saw him again, in a dream. He was playing the drums and telling me to sing. Then there was another man off to my right. He was wearing a green, wool hat. He...he called me...'shotgun'. Do you know anything about this?"

Lenny knew the man in the wool hat was Mike. He and Davy were the first ones he kidnapped in that ghost town.

"I don't know anything about it." Lenny snapped. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll forget these dreams, or you'll have the Big Woman mad at you again. Understand?" he asked, grabbing Davy by the shoulders.

Davy nodded slowly, then pulled out of Lenny's grasp. "Forget it! I just thought you might be able to help me."

"Davy, it's not that I don't want to help. But some things are just better left forgotten." Lenny said, hoping that would end the conversation.

"Why? What is it you're not telling me?" Davy asked, desperate for answers.

"Look! You're a thief and murderer. You always have been and always will be. No memory is gonna change that fact. So just forget it, will ya?" Lenny yelled.

"Oh, just like that?" Davy was now yelling. "I'm just supposed to accept things as they are, and forget about anything else in my past?"

"What's going on out here?" Bessie stood in the doorway, looking curiously at the two men.

Davy looked at Lenny, his eyes pleading with him not to say anything about the dreams.

"Nothin', boss. We're just talking." Lenny looked down. He was too nervous to look the Big Woman in the eyes.

"Well, you better get back inside. You guys are gonna attract unwanted attention." she said, then went in.

"Thanks, Lenny." Davy said, looking down at the ground.

Lenny sighed, putting his hand on Davy's back and led him inside.

The next day, the three Monkees answered many phone calls concerning their ad in the paper. They knew to listen for either Davy, Bessie or Lenny's voice. So far, none of these people had been them.

Mike sat in his chair with his head resting in his hand the entire day. He would just stare, as if he were far away. Peter and Micky were both starting to worry about him.

"I'm sorry, Mike." said Peter, putting his hand on Mike's shoulder. "It was a good idea."

"Thanks, Pete." Mike gave him a weak smile, then went back to staring.

Peter just looked at Micky and shrugged, unsure of what to do next.

"Hey, come on, Mike. Cheer up! We'll get him back one way or another." Micky tried, but only got a slight nod from Mike.

Micky signaled for Peter to follow him out to the balcony. "Man! This is really getting to him."

"I know. What can we do?"

Micky just shrugged and shook his head.

The sound of the phone ringing caught both of their attention. They turned around to see Mike on the phone. By the look on Mike's face, they knew that they had their man.

"Hey, boys! Look at this!" Bessie exclaimed, holding the paper. "Wanted: A young man to be caretaker and guard of millionaire beach home while owner is away. No experience needed. Please contact Mr. Helms at 247-4781."

Lenny and Davy just gave her a blank stare.

"Well don't ya get it, boys?" she asked, waiting for a response. None came. She sighed. "We can send Davy over there to take care of the place."

"Why?" Davy asked.

"Because when the owners are gone it will be easier for you to clean the place out." she explained slowly.

"I'm no bloody housekeeper. Let them get their own maid." he grumbled.

Bessie shook her head and willed patience into her body. "Davy, sit down." she ordered. He did so.

"After the owners leave you in charge of their estate," she explained. "You're gonna steal their valuable possessions, do you understand?"

"Oh! Yeah. Now I get it." he said with a smile, but still felt uncomfortable about the whole thing.

"Perhaps Lenny was right." he thought to himself. "I am what I am, and no memory will change that."

"I'll make the call." Bessie said as she went to the phone.

"Soup's on!" Lenny called. "Come on, Davy. Cream of Root Beer!"

Davy jumped out of his chair and turned quickly to face Lenny. A blonde haired man with a dimpled smile came to his mind, but quickly vanished.

"What did you say?" Davy asked in a shaky voice.

"I said Cream of Chicken soup. What's wrong?" Lenny asked, confused.

Davy only shook his head. "Nothing. Let's eat."

"Uh huh! Right! Two o'clock today. Got ya." Mike hung up the phone, beaming. He turned to look at Micky and Peter. "Guys! That was Bessie. I know that voice."

"You mean she fell for it? Davy's coming here?" Micky's excited voice rose with each question.

"That's right. Come on, we got to get ready!" Mike said, prepping the guys on what to do when Davy got here.

It was almost two o'clock when they had finally finished their disguises.

Mike was dressed as an older man. He had on an evening jacket, gray mustache and had a gray dye to the sides of his hair.

Peter had the part of Mrs. Helms. He had on a blonde wig, and a fashionable evening gown. "How do I look, poopsie?" he asked, waving a fan in front of his face.

"Divine, my sweet." Mike laughed as he fixed his tie.

"Uh, yeah! You guys are scaring me. I'm out of here." said Micky, who was wearing a butler's uniform. Since Davy had seen him the day before, Mike made him slick his unruly curls back and wear a mustache. A curl would still pop up here and there out of the mess, but it was better than nothing.

"I hope Davy doesn't recognize us." Peter said, straightening his wig. The other guys gave him a questioning look. "Well, I mean, I hope he does recognize us...but then I hope he doesn't."

"Do you mind explaining that one, Pete?" Micky asked.

"Careful, Micky. He might have all of us confused by the time he's through." Mike laughed.

"Well, if he sees that we aren't who we say we are, he'll bolt." Peter explained.

"I think I'm actually understanding him now." Micky said, a frightened look appearing on his face. "And that scares me."

"Guys, we're not letting Davy go back with Bessie or Lenny either way." Mike said firmly. "Even if we have to tie him down, gag him and lock him in his room, he's staying here with us."

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. The guys froze.

"What do we do now?" Micky asked.

"Go answer the door." Mike said, helping Peter with the wig.

"Oh right!" Micky grinned, then went over to the door, opening it slowly. "May I help you?"

Davy couldn't explain the uneasy feeling he had when they had pulled up in front of the beach house. There was something familiar about the place, but he couldn't explain it.

The uneasiness grew as he and Lenny made their way to the front door. Lenny was coaching him on what to say and how to act, but Davy didn't hear a word of it. He just kept looking up at the huge beach house.

They finally reached the front door. When Lenny knocked, Davy started backing away.

"Oh no!" Lenny said, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pushing him forward. "Don't back out now."

"May I help you?" the butler asked. Davy looked at the eyes. There was something familiar there...but what? Davy became suspicious of  the whole set up.

"Lenny, let's just go, ok?" Davy whispered to the man, but he ignored him.

"Uh, this is David. He's here to see about the job as care-taker." Lenny said, pushing Davy through the door.

"Very good, sir." the butler said, exiting the room.

"Davy, stay here and just play along with them. Give them whatever answers they want to hear. You're gonna have to play this by ear now. I won't be able to help. I'll be back to get you in thirty minutes." he said, then walked out the door.

Davy didn't want to be left alone in this place. There was something about this house...about the butler...that made him nervous.

"Nervous, eh?" he remembered a man dressed in a black, gunfighter outfit. "Slade, yer a yeller-livered coward." (Monkees In A Ghost Town)

"What the heck was that?" Davy thought, absolutely frightened by now. All he wanted to do was run out that door and leave. Leave everything: this house, Lenny, Bessie and everything he's known for this past week, behind.

"Well, hello young man."

Davy turned quickly to see an older man staring at him. At least, his hair was kind of gray. But the face didn't look much older than he was. Something was not right at all.

"My name is Mr. Helms. You are?" the man said, reaching out his hand.

"David." he answered in just above a whisper.

"Nice to meet you, David. Won't you sit down?" he asked.

Davy nodded and sat, although he would have preferred standing so he could run at a moments notice if need be. This was going to be a long half hour.

"Guys! It's Davy and Lenny!" Micky said quickly as he ran into the downstairs bedroom.

"Did they recognize you?" Mike asked.

"I don't think so." he shook his head and a few more curls popped up.

"OK, I'll go on out there. Do something to your hair, will ya?" Mike commented before leaving the room.

"Well, hello young man." Mike said, attempting to make his voice sound older.

Davy turned around quickly, and Mike saw the uneasiness there. He knew something was going on inside Davy's head, and prayed Davy would remember.

"My name is Mr. Helms. You are?" he asked, extending his hand.

"David." he replied quietly, and Mike had to lean over to hear him.

"At least he knows his name." Mike thought. "That's something."

"Nice to meet you, David. Won't you sit down?" he offered. He noticed Davy looked hesitant, as if he wanted to run.

"David, can you tell me a little bit about your past?" Mike asked. He wanted to know just how much Davy could remember.

"I grew up in England and came over to America when I was sixteen. My father died when I was ten, and I had to quit school to help raise my two younger sisters. I still support them and my mother today." He went on with the practiced speech that Bessie had given him.

Mike shook his head. "He doesn't remember anything." he thought to himself. He knew Davy came to America when he was eighteen; that both of Davy's parents were dead; and that he had three older sisters.

"William, darling. Won't you introduce me to this young man?" Peter asked in his practiced feminine voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mildred, dear. David, I'd like for you to meet my wife, Milly." Mike introduced.

"It's a pleasure, ma'am." Davy said, slowly taking Peter's hand.

"Oh my, what a polite young man!" Peter said. "Could I offer you anything? How about some coffee?"

"Coffee?" Davy thought. He saw a diner, an older man behind the counter, then Bessie holding a gun on the man, then everything went black.

He looked up at Peter and nodded. "Yes, please."

"Very good." 'Mildred' nodded. "Oh Thompson!"

Micky came out, with even more curls popping out of place. "Yes, ma'am?"

While 'Mildred' was piling request upon request to 'Thompson,' Davy took time to look closer at all three of them. Suddenly three men, about his age, filled his vision.

"Come on, Davy!! You know you're Mr. Charm when it comes to girls!!" came from the man in the woolhat.  The Prince And The Paupers

"Cross at the green! Not in between!" came from the blonde man. Monkees In A Ghost Town

"Not bad for a long-haired weirdo, huh, America?" came from the curly haired man. The one Davy remembered hitting in the alley. Card-Carrying Red Shoes

Davy looked at the three before him, realizing these were the men that kept filling his dreams. He stood quickly and nervously asked, "Who are you?"

'Mildred' quit laying out her list of orders to 'Thompson,' and all three looked at Davy.

"Well, we told you." Mike explained. "I'm Mr. Helms, this is Mrs. Helms, and that's..."

"NO!" Davy shouted. "Who are you really?"

The three looked at each other, wondering what to do now. Mike sighed and pulled off his mustache, and Micky and Peter took off their disguises.

"It's them!" Davy thought. "They're the ones I've been dreaming about."

"Davy, my name is Mike Nesmith." he said, waiting to see if this rang any bells with Davy. Nothing! "You and I are friends. Remember?"

"That's what he kept telling me." Davy said, pointing to Micky. "How do I know it's true?"

"Look, Davy!" Micky said, taking a step towards him. "We were only trying to...Whoa!" he stopped suddenly when Davy pulled a gun out his jacket and pointed it straight at him.

"Don't move!" he said. "Just keep away from me, understand? Stay away!"

"Davy, I know you don't want to shoot me." Micky said with more bravery than he felt. "We're friends. You may not remember, but I  think deep down you know it's true. That's why you're afraid."

Davy shook his head and kept backing away. "No! Stay away!"

"Come on, Davy!" Micky smiled and started moving towards him. He reached out his hand and said, "This isn't you. Give me the gun."

"I said NO!" Davy yelled and cocked the pistol, aiming it right for Micky's chest. Just before he pulled the trigger, something snapped in his mind. "Micky?"