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Mike Nesmith hummed a steady tune, keeping it up with the beat of his feet as they hit the pavement. So far, the day had been going pretty good. He had enough food in his house, the bills and rent were all caught up, and he even got a raise today. For the past few months, since he had moved to California, he had been working at Mr. Blithe's music store teaching guitar lessons.
Mr. Blithe had told him that since he had been there, business had been picking up a great deal. Of course, he didn't leave out the fact that a lot of that business had been young ladies spending every penny they earned to get a guitar and sign up for lessons. Mike smiled at that thought. He had never considered himself a chick magnet, but he had noticed quite a number of young girls coming for guitar lessons lately.
But all his pleasant thoughts were ended when he heard shouts coming from down an alley. His survival instinct told him to just ignore it and keep walking, but he knew he couldn't do that.
He walked half way down the alley and then realized that the commotion was coming from behind a bunch of crates and boxes stacked about seven feet high. He peeked in between a few of the boxes, and saw about three men, who were obviously part of some gang, surrounding a smaller man. Two of the men were holding switch blades and the third holding a broken beer bottle.
"Come on! Give it to us or we'll kill ya right now!" said the leader, holding the knife up to the man's throat.
"Why don't you just make the world a better place and drop dead!" the smaller man replied in which he was rewarded with a hard blow to his rib cage that sent him to the ground.
Mike winced when he saw the blow. He wouldn't have been surprised if something was broken. 'Come on, man!' Mike thought 'Just give him what he wants and get out of there.'
The leader of the group looked down at the man who was in obvious pain and smiled evilly. "Perhaps killing him would be too easy. Maybe if we could...persuade him, then he would give us what we want." With that, he kicked the man in the stomach and then pulled him to his feet. Holding the switch blade to his arm he asked "Well, kid? Ready
to hand it over? "The man shook his head and felt the blade slowly sink into his arm.
Mike was in a panic. He didn't know what to do. He was unarmed and he couldn't just jump three men and hope for the best. Then it dawned on him. 'You idiot! The boxes!'
He quietly moved into position and with all his strength pushed the boxes over on the men. He only hoped that the victim would get out of this ok.
When they finally landed, hitting their intended targets, Mike ran over and dug through the boxes until he came upon the young man. Pulling him into a sitting position, he asked "Hey! You gonna be ok?"
The young man sat there, rubbing his head. He hurt everywhere, but he didn't think it was anything life threatening. "Yeah, I'll be ok. What happened anyway? Who are you?"
"My name is Mike Nesmith. I was on my way home, when I saw these guys beating up on you. I pushed the boxes over and...well here we are. What's your name?"
"Davy Jones! Thanks for helping me out like that."
Mike was just about to ask him what the guys were after, when he saw them starting to move underneath the boxes. "Come on. We'd better get out of here." he said, grabbing Davy by the arm. They ran down the alley and could hear the guys behind them shouting and starting to run after them.
As soon as they reached the street, Davy grabbed hold of Mike's shirt and said "Come on! My car is down the road." They both got in the car and sped away, leaving three bloodied, bruised and confused men behind.
As they got further down the road, Mike asked "What were those guys after?"
Davy hesitated, but then realized that this man almost got himself killed saving his life, so he at least owed him some kind of explanation. He pulled a ring out of the pocket inside his jacket. "This is what they were after."
Mike took the ring and let out a low whistle. The ring was a thing of beauty, with different kinds of colored stones surrounding the center stone, which was a ruby. "Wow! No wonder you didn't want to give this thing up." he said, giving the ring back to Davy.
"Well it's more than just the beauty of it or what it's worth. It used to be my father's. It's been passed down each generation for over two hundred years. There's no way I'd ever part with it, except to give it to my son." he said with much pride.
"How long have you been in California. I can tell by the way you talk that you ain't from around these parts." he laughed.
Davy laughed also. "Well, actually, I just came in today."
"Really? Well that wasn't much of a welcome that you got. Do you have a place to stay yet?"
"No. I was on my way to look for a place when I got jumped." he replied, rubbing the stab wound on his arm.
Mike noticed this and said "Hey, maybe you should go to the hospital and let them take a look at that."
"NO!" Davy shouted with an angry look on his face and then smiled apologetically to Mike. "I'm sorry. I'm just not...hospitals and I don't get along."
"Well you need some kind of medical attention for that arm and God know what else."
"I'll be fine. I'll take care of it myself."
"Look! Why don't you stay at my place for a few days? At least until you can find a place of your own."
Davy wasn't so sure about this. After he had just shown him the ring, could he really trust him? 'Oh come on, Davy! The man just saved your life!' Besides, he was becoming too tired to argue anymore. "OK, Mike. I think I'll take you up on that. Where to?"
*****
They arrived at Mike's apartment and brought Davy's things in. Mike gave him a quick tour, showing him where he would sleep, and telling him that whatever he needed, just make himself at home.
"It's not much, but it's home!" he smiled. "Would ya like something to eat or drink?"
"Um, some tea if you don't mind." Davy replied wearily. This didn't go pass Mike.
"Why don't ya just sit yourself down. I'll be right back." and he went off to get some hot water, rags and bandages as well as the tea.
When he returned, Davy was already asleep on the couch.
He went over and sat on the edge of the couch placing everything he needed on the table next to him. He started to remove Davy's shirt when he heard a familiar knock on the door.
"Come in, Micky!" he shouted towards the door.
Micky came bouncing into the room, as was usual in his case. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the sight before him. Grinning, he said, "Hey, Mike! Why didn't you tell me, babe? We could have had a relationship a long time ago."
"Shut up, ya bone head, and go get the iodine out of the medicine cabinet." he ordered.
Micky did as he was directed and came back with a questioning look on his face. "So who is he?" he asked, handing the bottle to Mike.
"His name is Davy. Some guys were trying to rob him when I came along and..." Mike stopped there. He didn't mean for it to sound like he was bragging, but it was coming out that way.
"You stopped them, Mike?" Micky asked excitedly.
Mike rolled his eyes. It was just like his friend to blow everything out of proportion.
"So what did you do, Mike? Fight them all off one by one? Or no.. no wait! I know! You fought them all at the same time. Ha! No one can mess with the Mike Nesmith I know. Why I'll bet that..."
"MICKY! Would you be quiet for a minute and I'll tell ya what I did." Mike said, exasperated.
"Oh! Right! Um, go ahead." said Micky, with a sheepish grin.
Mike continued for the next couple of minutes to tell him all that had happened, while he bandaged Davy's arm and checked for broken bones.
"Wow! So what was it they were after?" he asked, with his chin resting in his hands.
"A ring. The most beautiful ring I have ever seen. Seems it's some kind of an heirloom of his."
"Hey, can I see it?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with curiosity.
"Well when he wakes up you can ask him. But don't be too pushy, ok? We don't want to scare him off!"
"Awe come on, Mike. How could I scare anyone off?"
Mike was just about to answer that when Davy started coming around. He shot up into a sitting position as if someone had just shot him out of a cannon, but quickly grabbed his side when the pain from earlier hit him.
"Whoa, shotgun!" Mike shouted, putting his hands on Davy's shoulders and pushing him back down. "Take it easy. You're safe here, man!"
"Who's he!" Davy's panicked voice asked, pointing towards Micky.
"It's ok! He's a friend of mine." Mike said quickly, trying to calm him down.
Micky gave him one of those goofy smiles. "Hi! My name is Micky Dolenz." he stuck his hand out for Davy to shake it.
Davy slowly took his hand, although he still wasn't too sure he could trust this man, or even Mike for that matter.
"Nice to meet you." he said slowly.
"Yeah, nice to meet you too. So, um, could I see your ring?" he asked like a little boy who could hardly contain himself.
The panic returned to Davy's face and Mike just rolled his eyes. "Smooth, Micky. Real smooth!"
"What?" asked a clueless Micky.
"It's ok, Davy! I know what you're probably thinking, but we're not going to take off with your ring. I just told Micky everything that happened and he wanted to see what the ring looked like. If you don't want to show it to him, that's ok."
Davy shook his head, "No. That's ok. I'll show it to him. Where's my jacket?"
Mike handed him the jacket and shot Micky a warning look to watch what he says and does. Micky understood the message all too well.
Davy pulled the ring out of his jacket and handed it to Micky, whose mouth dropped open when he saw the beauty of the stones. "Man! No wonder they were trying to lift this. It's magnificent!" he said as he gave it back to Davy.
Davy's face changed from fear to pride. He was always pleased when someone admired something that was close to him, especially his family ring.
"Well, let's get something to eat. I don't know about you guys, but I'm hungry!" Micky exclaimed, rubbing his flat stomach.
"Gee, Micky, why do I feel as if I've heard that before?" Mike laughed, to which Micky just sneered at him.
"OK, tell ya what. I'll order up some pizza, and you turn on the TV and find the game." Mike yelled as he tossed Micky the remote and headed for the phone.
"Mike!" Davy called and Mike turned to look at him. "Thanks for helping me out and all." he said, pointing to his arm.
"Well you're just lucky, shotgun, that nothing was broken. Then you would have had to have gone to the hospital, no arguments allowed."
Davy understood that as 'you're welcome' and just left it at that.
"So, Davy," Micky asked as Mike walked out of the room. "What's your hang up with hospitals anyway?"
"I've had too many people who were close to me die in them. You might say I just have this fear about going to them now, although I know that sounds stupid." he said, with a look of sadness in his eyes.
"Naw, I wouldn't say stupid. Crazy maybe, but we all have our little quirks, right?" and both he and Davy laughed.
*****
The next morning, Mike awoke to what sounded like music coming from the living room. Looking at his clock, he realized that it was only seven in the morning.
"What in the world?" he asked himself as he threw on his robe and quietly opened the door stepping out into the hallway.
In the living area he saw Davy sitting on the couch, still in his night clothes, picking away at an old guitar singing to himself. Mike moved a little closer so he could hear what he was singing.
"I wanna be free/
Like the warm September wind, babe/
Say you'll always be my friend, babe/
We can make it to the end, babe/
Again, babe, I've gotta say/
I wanna be free/
I wanna be free/
I wanna be free"
"Sounds good!"
Davy whipped around to see Mike standing there, and he blushed a little. "Just a little song I learned a while back. The only one I can play on a guitar without making a mistake." he smiled.
"Well you have a real fine voice. Do much singing back home?"
"I did a little in plays and all, but nothing really big." he said. "Oh! I'm really sorry if I woke you. I just saw your guitar laying over here and just felt like playing. It's been a while. I hope you don't mind."
"No! That's fine. Don't let me stop ya! I'm just glad you're feeling better."
"Well, thanks to you and Micky, I'm feeling a lot better. I'm sorry about not trusting you guys at first. I really owe you a lot and I..." but he was cut off by Mike raising his hand.
"You owe me nothing and you have nothing to be sorry about. If I were new to a town where I didn't know anyone and my first 'friendly' greeting was to be robbed and beat up, well I can't say as I would have responded any better." he laughed. He was always uncomfortable when people would start complimenting him or thanking him, so he
liked to just laugh it off.
Davy understood this and ended it with "Well, thanks just the same." and went back to playing the guitar.
*****
Frustrated, Micky walked through the toy store, trying to find something for his spoiled rotten, eight year old cousin's birthday. This kid was an only child and had everything and Micky considered shopping for him a real drag. Then again, the fact that this kid was
a real brat that sought out any way that he could get on Micky's nerves didn't help either.
Micky considered going to the gag gifts section. Maybe he could get a can of exploding paint. Now that would be priceless. The little brat would be going through his gifts and then he'd pop the top off and splat! But knowing the little monster, he'd use it to his advantage and would somehow get the last laugh.
As Micky was contemplating his revenge on the little eight year old, he heard a kids piano over in the next aisle. But the way it was being played didn't sound like it was coming from a kid. His curiosity got the better of him and we went over to where the kid's instruments were.
Standing over a piano that was two sizes too small for him, was a young man with sandy, blonde hair and bright clothing, pounding away at the keys. He seemed totally wrapped up in what he was doing, and didn't notice the crowd gathering around him, admiring the beautiful tune that was coming out of the small box.
As he tapped out the last few pieces to the music, he had a gut feeling that he was being watched. As he looked around, his face turned a deep shade of red from embarrassment, but quickly became bright with pleasure as the people who were listening began
applauding.
He took a couple of quick, nervous bows and quickly exited the stage. As the crowd dispersed, Micky walked over to him. "Hey there!" he greeted.
The shy, young man looked at him with a smile and replied with a quick "Hey!"
"So, uh, you're pretty good with that thing. How are ya with a big kid piano?" he teased.
"OK, I guess. I love keyboards the best though. You can get many different sounds and beats from them." he replied with a light showing in his eyes.
"Well I agree with ya about the sounds, but the beats are way too generic on those things." Looking around he saw a small drum set where the other man had just been playing the piano. "Come on, I'll show ya what I mean."
Sitting on the small stool he grabbed the miniature drum sticks off the small base drum.
"Now, this is the kind of beat that keyboards have." and he proceeded with a steady, monotone beat. "Now, when you have the real thing, well, watch what this baby can do." and he went into series of sounds and clashes that, once again, began drawing a crowd. "See what I mean?" he asked, when he was finally finished.
"Yeah! I see what you mean now. I guess I've never really noticed it too much before. Hey let's try this." and he ran over to the kid's keyboards and started playing Neil Diamond's "I'm A Believer" tune to which Micky started beating on the drums. Before they knew it, the aisle were full of kids dancing to the tune. Even the manager of the
store was about to jump on them for playing with the instruments, until he saw it as a great advertising scheme and just stood back and watched.
When they finished, the crowd erupted into applauds and cheers. Many of the parents ran over to the manager to find out how they could get their hands on the musical instruments for their kids.
Micky and Peter left the stage laughing and patting each other on the back.
"Awe, man, that was groovy!" Micky laughed. "My name is Micky Dolenz. Who are you?"
"Peter Tork! Well Thorkelson, actually. But people find it easier to just say Tork."
"It's nice meeting ya, Pete! Hey I'm going over to my friend's house tonight, you wanna come?"
"Uh, well sure, I guess. Where does he live?"
"I'll draw ya out a map. Oh, and bring your keyboard, ok? I'll bring my drums. Mike has got to hear this."
"OK! Sure!"
*****
Later that night at Mike's apartment, Davy was helping Mike put together sandwiches for Micky and his mystery friend that he was bringing that evening.
"Now that should be enough for Micky." Mike said, pointing to a pile of sandwiches that would have been enough to feed all of them. "Now let's work on ours."
Just then that familiar knock came to the door.
"Come on in, Mick." Mike yelled from the kitchen and was answered by the door banging open and the sound of things crashing about.
"Oh good Lord!" Mike sighed. "What is he into now?"
Davy followed Mike from the kitchen and almost ran into him when he suddenly stopped.
"Micky, what on earth are you doing? Why did you bring your drum set? I thought we were going to watch the game tonight."
"It's all part of my surprise, Mike! Just wait and you'll see." Micky said excitedly, to which Mike just rolled his eyes and Davy suppressed a laugh.
Just then, Peter came to the door. "Um, is this where Mike Nesmith lives? I'm a friend of Micky's."
"Oh yeah, Pete! Come on in!" Micky shouted from where he was setting up his drums.
Peter walked in carrying his keyboard and the stand.
"Micky, what's going on here?" Mike asked.
"Oh Mike, this is Peter. Peter this is Mike and Davy."
"How do you do" and "Nice to meet you" went all around the room.
Davy couldn't help but wonder if knowing Micky brought this much excitement and confusion everyday.
Mike was just exasperated. He wasn't used to not knowing what was going on and having things out of his control, especially in his own house.
"OK Mike, Davy, you guys sit there on the couch. You gotta hear this." then Micky turned to Peter and said " Ready Pete? One, two, one, two, three, four!"
They once again played the same tune that they had played earlier that day. Half way through it, Mike picked up his guitar and started playing along. Once they were finished, they all looked at each other in kind of a shock.
"Wow!" said Micky.
"That actually sounded....good!" said Mike.
"Hey, why don't we do it again?" Peter asked, excitedly.
"Yeah! Come on Davy! Join us!" said Micky.
Davy shot up his hands "No, now wait a minute guys! I don't play any instruments."
"You can sing, can't ya? And don't bother denying it, cause you already let it slip." said Mike sternly.
"Well maybe, but I'd rather just be a spectator, guys!" but his arguments were falling on deaf ears as Mike grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up to stand with them.
"Here, Davy! I never go anywhere without one of these." said Micky, tossing Davy a tambourine.
"Think you can handle it?" asked Mike, teasingly.
Davy tapped it on his palm a couple of times and said "Not a problem."
They started the song again, with Micky singing lead, Peter taking high harmony and Davy taking low harmony.
The rest of the evening was spent making changes to the song, adding and removing parts.
Because of the complaints from the neighbors and the landlord threatening to throw Mike out, they had to finish before they were ready. But that didn't stop the planning.
"Hey, ya know, if we can put together a few more songs, we might actually have something here." said Mike.
"You mean, like a band, right?" Micky smiled.
"Well if you're all willing to try, I don't see why we couldn't do it!" added Peter.
"Of course, if we're serious about this, we may have to quit our jobs so we can devote our full attention to the band." Mike's practical side was taking over again, but the rest of the guys knew he was right.
"Well, that's no problem for me." said Davy. "I don't have one yet."
"What are we gonna do about a name?" asked Peter
"Well they have the Beatles," began Micky. "How about the Cockroaches?"
Mike grabbed a pillow and smacked it into Micky's head. "Ya big ape!" and they all started laughing.
But then Micky stopped laughing and started talking almost to himself. "Ape? Chimp? Monkey? Monkey?"
"Hey, Micky. You ok man?" asked Peter with a concerned look.
"How hard did you hit him, Mike?" Davy asked.
"Don't worry guys, he's ok. This is normal." Mike smiled.
"THAT'S IT!" Micky suddenly shouted and they all jumped.
"What's it?" gasped Peter, holding his heart.
"Our name! The Monkeys!!" he smiled, waiting for it to sink in.
Davy grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and wrote the name down.
"Well I think it could work." he said, holding it out for the other guys to see.
"I dunno. Something just doesn't look right." said Mike.
"I know!" said Peter and he grabbed the pad and pen and began scribbling. Finally he showed it to the rest of the guys. It was still the same name, only spelled differently. This time it was "The Monkees."
"I like it!" Mike grinned.
"Yeah! That's it!" said Micky excitedly.
"Now that would definitely work!" said Davy.
They went on with more plans and preparations, and that evening the Monkees were born.
The next morning, Mike was frying up some breakfast when there came a knock at the door, only this time it wasn't Micky's usual knock.
'Who could that be?' thought Mike as he went to open the door. As he did, he looked down into the face of his feisty, old landlord, Mr. Jenkins.
"AH! Mr. Jenkins! What a pleasant surprise." he smiled nervously.
"Nesmith!" the voice boomed. "I've about had it! Last night you had all the racket going on up here, and the tenants were not too pleased and I'm telling you, neither was I!"
"Well, sir! We stopped it as soon as you told us to. It won't happen again."
"It wasn't just the music, Nesmith. All that loud talking, laughing and banging around. I want it to stop, understand? I want it to..." but he stopped when he saw a smaller man coming out of one of the bedrooms with a towel over his hair and face. He obviously didn't see the landlord standing there.
"Hey, Mike, I was just thinking. I've been here for a few days now, and I thought..."
"WHAT?!" yelled Jenkins and Mike cringed.
Davy slowly lifted the towel from his eyes, muttered something under his breath and quickly ducked back into the bedroom.
"So you've had another tenant living here without my consent, eh Nesmith?"
"Uh well, ya see sir, it was like this, I was walking home from work and..." but he didn't get a chance to finish.
"Nesmith! I've had it with you and your crazy friends. I want you out of this apartment today! Understand? TODAY!" and he slammed the door on his way out.
Mike sat down on the edge of his couch and ran his fingers through his hair. Sighing deeply, he said "OK, Davy! You can come out now."
Davy timidly peeked out the door before stepping out. When he saw Mike sitting there with his head in his hands, he felt terrible.
"Oh, Mike. I'm sorry! I didn't know he was there. This is all my fault." he said, sadly as he sat down in the chair across from Mike.
"Don't worry about it, Davy. I'll think of something." he replied, rubbing between his eyes.
"Well I already have. That's what I was coming out to tell you earlier." he stopped, not exactly sure how to continue. He wanted to put his words just right for his dubious friend.
"Well?" Mike asked, when Davy hesitated.
"Well, I was thinking, if the four of us are going to be a band, why not just move in together?" When he saw the doubtful look on Mike's face he hurriedly continued. "I mean, with all of us out of jobs, it will cut down on the rent for each one of us. Then when we need to practice or have a gig, you won't have to go looking for all of us
cause we'll all be right there."
Mike's doubtful look changed to a thoughtful one. "Yeah! Might work. Of course, right now, it's not like I have much of an option."
"So is that a yes?" Davy asked, with a hopeful expression on his face.
"Let me call the other guys and see what they think." and Mike went off in search of the phone.
*****
Later that day, the four Monkees waited at a small beach house where a Mr. Babbit was to give them a tour of the home. The boys were pretty discouraged. Every place they had tried that day had turned out to be a disaster. Of course with their limited funds, they didn't expect much better.
"Well this place doesn't look too bad." claimed Peter, who was always trying to find a more positive view on things.
"Naw, I guess not. Needs a paint job, but all in all, I guess it's ok." said Micky who was trying to sound cheerful, but was pretty annoyed about the days results.
"I'm more worried about how the inside looks." said Davy, who wasn't quite as successful at hiding his irritation like Peter and Micky.
"Well if Mr. Babbit will ever show, then we might find out, now won't we?" Mike was the most annoyed out of the whole group, and he had a right to be. He had to be out of his place by midnight tonight.
"Well don't worry, Mike. I have a good feeling about this place." said a smiling Peter.
Mike just rolled his eyes. Could he stand living with an optimist? Or could an optimist stand living with him? Only time would tell.
Finally a middle-aged man pulled up next to them and jumped out of the car in a rush.
"Oh hello boys!" he gasped. "I'm sorry I'm late, but one of my tenants was having a little problem, and well I always like to be there for my tenants." he smiled, figuring that he had just struck a point with the boys.
The Monkees just looked at each other and rolled their eyes, all except for Peter who looked at Mr. Babbit and said "Gee, that was nice of you, Mr. Babbit."
"I always aim to please, boy!" he grinned and unlocked the door and they all stepped into the fully furnished house.
Mr. Babbit was about to begin his grand tour, but was interrupted when Micky and Peter quickly ran up the stairs and into the rooms and Davy ran into the downstairs bedroom. Then just as quickly Peter and Micky came out of the upstairs bedroom. Peter flung himself over the railing, hanging on with one hand and then dropped to the ground.
Micky slid down the banister and collided with Davy who was running out of the downstairs bedroom and heading for the kitchen. They stood up and brushed themselves off and along with Peter ran through the kitchen and then out the back door to check out the beach.
Mike was just looking around the living room, seemingly undisturbed by his friends behavior. Mr. Babbit just looked on in awe.
"Um, are they always like that?" he asked when he found his voice.
"Oh, you gotta forgive them. They're kind of having a down day, but they'll liven up when we find a place." he said matter-of-factly, making his way up the stairs.
"Oh! I see! Well, um, let's hope that's soon." he gulped. If this is how they acted when they were down, then what were they like on a good day? He shuddered at the thought.
The three boys came running quickly back into the kitchen and then the living room.
"Mike? Hey Mike?" they all shouted. Mike emerged from the upstairs bedroom and looked over the railing.
"What's up, guys?" he asked.
"This place is groovy! We've gotta get it!" shouted Micky.
"The beach is great! And the girls! Oh the girls!" Davy started going off into one of his love-sick trances, and Micky waved his hand before his eyes to snap him out of it.
"Look over here, guys! It even has a stage for our instruments!" Peter exclaimed, happy with his new discovery.
"Instruments?" asked Babbit, getting more worried by the second about these long haired weirdos.
"Yeah! We're musicians." smiled Peter.
"How much is the rent on this place?" asked Mike.
"Um, $150 a month. First three months need to be paid up front." he said absently, not taking his eyes off Peter. He was still in shock over Peter's claim and the boys behavior.
The four boys looked at each other and each nodded his approval.
"OK! We'll take it!" said Mike and he took Babbit's hand in a firm shake, which brought Babbit's mind back to what he was doing.
"Oh! Oh great!" he smiled, trying to sound excited. "When will you be able to move in?"
"Today!" they all exclaimed.
"Oh! Well! Here's the key and I'll be by tomorrow to pick up the rent." he nervously backed away from them and headed out the door. As soon as he was outside he shook his head and muttered "Freaks!" He definitely wasn't looking forward to what tomorrow's encounter would bring.
*****
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