Disclaimer: I don't own anything...all of it belongs to the Fab Four.
Warning: Sixties-style drug use--you knew it was coming sooner or later...
A/N: As always, thank you all so much for reviewing. I hope you like this chapter, because it's probably my favorite so far. I had a lot of fun writing the second part of it. Enjoy!
New York City
"Where do you want these decorations, Val?" Sadie asked, carrying in a cardboard box overflowing with Christmas lights, ornaments, and tinsel from the hall closet. Valerie was attempting to unwrap a package of lights, and Lucy was helping Max Jr. and the girls, Michelle and Eleanor, string the already opened lights up onto the artificial tree. JoJo and Jude were sitting on the couch with Jimi, watching all of this take place while carrying on a conversation about who-knows-what. The family always gathered like this to decorate the Christmas tree at the apartment where the party was going to be held--it was their own tradition.
"Oh, anywhere by the tree is fine," Valerie told her, after finally getting the package of lights open. It was pain in the ass, having to buy new lights every year once they discovered that about half of the old ones worked. "Hey, Max, can you go see if your father is going to join us today?" Max nodded, handing the string of lights over to his aunt Lucy. Michelle watched her younger sibling disappear down the hallway, shaking her head.
Max Jr. approached the door to his parents' bedroom, hand pausing once it rested on the handle. Hesitantly, he pushed the door open, trying to silence its creaking as much as he could. It was nearly twelve-thirty in the afternoon, and yet the room was dark. His dad had lowered the shade to block out any light that could possibly come through the window. Knowing that he'd slept this late in a darkened room, Max was very reluctant to follow his mother's request to see if he was going to get up anytime soon.
The six-year-old padded across the gloomy bedroom, bare feet making contact with the cold, hardwood floor. He looked up to see Max Sr. lying on the bed facing the wall. He didn't know whether his father was sleeping or not, and he hated to wake him, because he was usually moody. Max Jr. clambered up onto the bed and sat on the edge, dangling his legs over the side. From there, he peered over to see that his dad was, in fact, awake. He was staring at the wall; his gaze distant and blank. He didn't move, even when his son entered, which wasn't all that surprising to the little boy.
"Daddy…" Max trailed off. "Everyone's here to decorate the Christmas tree. Mommy wants to know if you're going to help, too."
Max Jr. hadn't noticed, but Michelle was watching quietly from the doorway, peeking through the small space her brother had left open. Being twelve, she knew the reasons behind her father's behavior on days like these--days where he'd just sleep or walk around the apartment like a zombie, not talking to anyone. Occasionally, she'd see him sit in his bedroom all afternoon, drinking, but that was rare now, since Valerie caught him and ordered him to stop. Michelle knew her father was a Vietnam War veteran, and from studying it in school, she'd learned that soldiers sometimes experienced days where the memories of what they'd seen came flooding back. It was horrible to think about, but it wasn't that uncommon. Michelle absolutely hated to see her father like this; it broke her heart whenever he wasn't his normal, crazy self.
Michelle's little brother noticed their father's odd behavior, but never quite understood why he often acted the way he did. When Max Sr. did not answer, little Max tried to figure out what was wrong. "Is it one of your bad days, Daddy?" he asked. That's what Valerie and Michelle called the days when Max was like this; it was the best way to describe it to an innocent six-year-old, who knew nothing of war, death, and violence.
But Max never said a word in response to his son's question, he just kept staring. Michelle thought it was a good time to intervene, so she walked into the room and told Max to get down off the bed.
"C'mon, Max," she said. "Leave Dad alone today. Let's go help decorate the tree." Max Jr. hopped down from the bed and scurried out of the room. Michelle stayed behind for a few moments, gazing sadly at her father's still form before going back to the living room.
"Is he coming, Max?" Valerie was asking her son as Michelle knelt down to sort through the ornaments.
Max shook his head. "No, Daddy's having one of his bad days again."
Lucy shared a knowing glance with Valerie and stood up, climbing off Jude's lap where she had been sitting.
"I'm going to talk to Max." she said quietly, giving the artist a quick but lingering kiss on the cheek. Jude nodded, his deep brown eyes full of understanding. Lucy left the living room; when she entered the back bedroom, she found her older brother in the same position that he had been in when little Max had walked in. There was a depressing atmosphere to the room; Max was lying in bed, chest bare, halfway covered in a blanket. There was a whiskey bottle sitting on the nightstand that hadn't been touched. Lucy got the impression that Max had meant to start drinking, but had had enough strength to stop himself--she was proud of him for that. As she neared the bed, she saw he was there…but not really.
"He's a real nowhere man Doesn't have a point of view
Sitting in his nowhere land
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody
knows not where he's going to
Isn't he a bit like you and me?
Lucy mused with a sigh. Lucy knew that broken, troubled expression well. She could never fully comprehend what exactly Max had gone through over there, but inside, she knew they were the same on some emotional level. They were both hurting inside, secretly dealing with their own pain each day. Lucy sat down on the bed next to her brother, and wrapped her arms around his bare torso, resting her head on his shoulder. Max didn't even attempt to push his sister away; he closed his eyes and welcomed the comforting gesture.
"Talk to me, Max," she said. "Please." Max only groaned.
"Nowhere man please listen
You don't know what you're missing
Nowhere man, The world is at your command
He's as blind as he can be Doesn't have a point of view
Just sees what he wants to see
Nowhere man, can you see me at all
Nowhere man don't worry
Take your time, don't hurry
Leave it all till somebody else
Lends you a hand
Ah, la, la, la, la
knows not where he's going to
Isn't he a bit like you and me?
Lucy sang, trying desperately to get her brother to open up. "I know it hurts, and I know it's hard to forget about, but you have so much to live for. Valerie, your kids, me, Jude…JoJo, Sadie…your nieces and nephews…" Lucy made another attempt, stroking Max's unruly hair out of his face:
"…Nowhere man please listen He's a real nowhere man
You don't know what you're missing
Nowhere man, The world is at your command
Ah, la, la, la, la
Sitting in his nowhere land
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody…
With a sigh, Max finally sat up, leaning his head against Lucy's. They stayed like that, in comfortable silence, for awhile.
"Thanks, Luce," Max stated quietly, placing a kiss on his sister's forehead. Lucy smiled, a hint of sadness in her expression as well. It didn't slip by Max, of course; he knew what pain his sister was dealing with, too. "It's okay." he told her, draping an arm around her shoulder. "I miss her, too."
--------------------------------
Pennsylvania
"That," Sgt. Pepper said after a long pause, "is one hell of a story, dude."
Lizzy had just spent the last hour telling the band why she and Paul were traveling alone to New York City. They all seemed pretty interested in it, like it was some kind of dramatic, made-for-TV movie. Paul and Lizzy had become pretty accustomed to the friendly, albeit eccentric band, and were fairly relaxed around them. Paul was almost certain that their cozy mood was a result of the smoke that hung in the air from the joint that the band had been passing around, but he wasn't going to complain.
"I can't believe your parents are friends with Sadie and JoJo," Penny stated. "Man, that chick is wicked cool--band rocks."
"You know them, too?" Lizzy asked.
"Yeah," George replied. "We met 'em a couple times."
"Well, kid, I hope you find your folks." Billy said. It was the first that either of the teens had heard him speak.
"Me too." Lizzy responded, almost inaudibly.
"But until that time, you'll chill with us," Sgt. Pepper said. "And I believe we haven't been very good hosts." He took a drag of the joint and passed it to Paul, encouraging him to try it. Lizzy gawked at Paul as he smoked it, acting like a pro, which made the young girl a bit curious.
She elbowed him in the arm, giggling. "Have you, umm, done this before?"
Paul smirked. "Maybe…" He handed it to Lizzy, who stared at it, unsure. She looked at Paul. "Oh, Liz…c'mon. Your parents were hippies. I bet they did it. Just try it."
"Peer pressure!" Penny giggled.
Lizzy reluctantly took a drag, after some instruction from Paul. She felt her head spinning immediately, and felt as though she was flying. She wasn't quite sure if she liked that sort of feeling.
"Let's get this little fiesta started…" George said, grabbing his acoustic guitar from the back. He started strumming a song that was obviously familiar to the band, because it earned an excited holler from Penny. George began singing, while Penny swayed back and forth and Sgt. Pepper shook his head to the beat.
"In the town where I was born
Lived a man who sailed to sea
And he told us of his life
In the land of submarines
So we sailed up to the sun
Till we found a sea of green
And we lived beneath the waves
in our yellow submarine."
Penny and the Sgt, as well as Billy, joined George in the chorus, singing the silly--but extremely catchy--little song with as much enthusiasm as their stoned minds could manage.
"We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine…"
George continued with the next verse:
"And our friends are all aboard
Many more of them live next door
And the band begins to play…"
Penny made some weird noises and gestures, trying to pretend that she was playing what appeared to be a trumpet. Lizzy laughed, watching as she almost fell off the seat. The band jumped into the chorus again, and this time, the two teenagers were able to join them.
"We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine…"
Then, Sgt. Pepper spoke, talking in a strange tone to Billy, who listened, laughing.
"Full speed ahead Mr. Boatswain, full speed ahead!"
"Full speed ahead it is, Sgt." Billy replied, continuing the odd little conversation.
"Cut the cable, drop the cable!"The Sgt. ordered.
"Aye, Sir, aye…Captain, captain…"
Lizzy surveyed her surroundings, as they suddenly changed before her very eyes. Or so she thought…for all she knew, the effects of the drug could've been finally getting to her. At that point, she didn't have a good idea of what was really happening around her anymore. The inside of the VW bus seemed to morph into a real, yellow submarine; the snowy, cold landscape outside altered its appearance into a deep, blue-green ocean. Lizzy rubbed her eyes and stared outside the window to see all sorts of colorful, tropical fish swimming past them. She nudged Paul's arm and showed him, and the two teens watched the lively ocean scene outside as the band continued singing.
"As we live a life of ease
Every one of us has all we need
Sky of blue--"
"Sky of blue!" Penny repeated.
"…and sea of green--"
"Sea of green!" Penny shouted.
"In our yellow---"
"In our yellow!"she reiterated.
"Submarine…"
"Ahaaa!" Penny laughed hysterically.
"We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine…"
The rest of the night was a blur of singing, altered surroundings, and wild chaos.