Author's note: Rather a long chapter, but I really didn't want to break this story into three parts, so I shoved it all in one. One quick note: I do not own the movie "White Christmas" starring Danny Kaye and three other people I don't know the names of, nor do I own the song "The Christmas Song" or "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," although both are favorites of mine, and songs I sing often. Also, just in case someone reads this who doesn't already know that words change over time, the word "gay" used to just mean "light-hearted," "fun-loving," or even "frolicksome," and Christmas songs are so old that they use the oled words, so in the last song they sing, that's what that means.
Also, this is the last part of this particular story arc, so the final scene is more of a teaser for something I might expound on one day, not a cliffie signifying another chapter.
"They're shutting down the hotel!?" Micky exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.
The Monkees were in the basement having a meeting called by Mike, and he'd just relayed the news.
"That's what Aunt Franny said," Mike said. Then he sighed. "Look, Micky, I know you're upset-"
"They can't do that!" Micky continued. "This hotel's been here for nearly fifty years! Why, it's a historical landmark!"
"Really?" Peter asked, blinking. "What's it famous for?"
Micky sputtered. "You know," he said. "Famous stuff! Like, that one actress from that movie about the guy and the thing? She stayed here once!"
Peter frowned, thinking. "Huh," he said. "I must've missed that day."
"Me too," Micky said. "But I'm sure it happened! And, um... Oh! Me!"
"You?" Davy asked incredulously. "Micky, you're not famous."
"Yet," Micky said. "I'm not famous yet. Once we get our big break, people are gonna want to tour this very basement, where the famous Micky Dolenz learned to play the drums!"
"I agree with Micky," Peter said. Upon receiving strange looks from Mike and Davy, and even Micky, he expounded. "I mean, about not wanting to have the hotel shut down," he said. "Not about the tour group thing."
"It could happen!" Micky insisted.
"Guys, we can't just go meddling in business that isn't our own!" Mike said sensibly, standing up and moving into the center of the room.
"Why not?" Davy asked. "We meddle in other people's business all the time."
"Oh yeah," Mike remembered. "In that case, we need to come up with a plan to save the hotel."
Phase One: Renaissance- I mean, recommences- no, wait... Oh! Reconnaissance. Yeah. Recon. It was time to find out exactly why the hotel was being shut down.
Splitting up into two teams, the Monkees went on their reconnaissance mission, Mike and Davy to ask Tawnia, who, as concierge, heard practically everything that went on in the hotel, and Micky and Peter to try their luck with Mr. Spiner.
Mr. Spiner proved to be no help, as soon as the closure of the hotel was mentioned, Mr. Spiner remembered he had to make a very important phone call and ushered them out of the room post haste.
"Well, that didn't branch out at all," Micky said, giving the now-closed door of Mr. Spiner's office one last glare before turning away.
"Maybe Mike and Davy had better luck," Peter suggested hopefully.
"Well, let's go check," Micky said.
Mike and Davy did indeed have better luck. As Micky and Peter walked up to the two boys, still talking to Tawnia, Davy noticed them coming up. "Guys, you've gotta hear this," He said. Then he turned to Tawnia. "Could you start over, please?" He asked.
Tawnia nodded. "About three months ago," she said. "This guy came to the hotel and offered to buy it. He said this was the perfect location for a soda bottle factory. Mr. Spiner turned him down, said he wouldn't sell. Then, accidents started happening."
"What kind of accidents?" Micky asked.
"At first, it was just little things," Tawnia said. "Things like the windows getting broken, or deliveries of food being delayed or not coming at all. Then, things started getting more serious."
"How serious?" Peter asked.
Tawnia looked around before leaning in close. "People started getting hurt," she said quietly. "We've gone through staff so fast it's not even funny. We don't know who's doing it, or how, but there are so many 'Accidents' that it can't be just a coincidence. The last new guy to come and work for us left after two days with a broken wrist, after someone left a roller skate on the stairs and he stepped on it."
"Yikes," Peter said. "Sounds serious."
"It is," Tawnia said. "The last straw was last week, someone cut the elevator lines. Luckily, no one was in it, so no one got hurt. But people aren't coming here anymore, and with all the repairs we need to do, we're losing money. The buyer came back three days ago, and Mr. Spiner had to sell."
"When's everything getting shut down?" Mike asked, now that the recap was over.
"Thursday," Tawnia said. "That's the buyer over there, his name is Harry Andrews, he and a few goons are always hanging around, one of the reasons why I think he's behind all the "accidents." Besides, he looks like a bad guy."
The Monkees all examined Harry Andrews, and in their expert opinion, he did indeed look like a bad guy, simply because behind his suit-and-tie appearance, he had shifty eyes, and as he casually gazed around the room, he had a barely concealed smirk playing across his mouth.
"Oh yeah," Davy said. "That guy's bad news."
Mike sniffed suspiciously, and the Monkees all walked slowly over to Mr. Harry Andrews, who saw them coming and raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me," Mike said. "Are you the man who's buying this building?"
"Yes, I am, who are you?" The man said, his smirk coming out of hiding slightly as he looked over the Monkees.
"We're the Monkees," Micky said. "And this hotel is important to us."
"Really?" The man said, smiling sickeningly, all pretenses of being an unconcerned business man gone.
"Well, to Peter an I, anyway," Micky said.
"Don't worry, Micky, anything important to you or Peter is important to us to," Davy said.
"You said it, Davy," Mike agreed.
"Well, it just so happens to be important to me, too," Harry said. "I'm going to tear down this building and build a soda-bottle factory!"
"Now, wait a minute," Mike said. "Why build a factory in the middle of the city? Wouldn't you have better business in the industrial district or something?"
"Maybe I would," Harry said. "But I want this spot. And you know what? I'm not just tearing it down, I'm going to blow the whole thing up, and leave all these good people with no jobs!"
"Have you no heart?" Peter asked with a frown.
"Sold it awhile back," Harry said seriously. "I'm running on batteries."
"Woah, really?" Micky asked, distracted.
"Duracell works wonders," Harry said. "Anyway! I'm going to shut this hotel down on Thursday, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!"
"We'll see about that!" Micky said angrily.
"Was that a threat?" Harry said idly, as two of his bigger goons stepped forward menacingly.
Micky yiped. "No," he squeaked. "No threat, really, I was just saying we'd, you know, see it, when it happens."
"Thought so," Harry said, his goons stepping back again. "Well then, I've got very important business matters to attend to. If you boys are done...?"
Dejected, the Monkees all withdrew to the basement to begin phase two: come up with a plan of sorts.
Phase three: Implement the plan thought up during phase two. They had to get rid of Harry and his goons. This could only be accomplished through trickery, disguises, and the fine art of perfectly executed well thought out plans.
"Oof!" said Davy, disguised as a very short janitor, as Peter bumped into him. "Watch it Pete, I'm walking here!"
"Sorry," Peter whispered. "It's just I can't see."
"Peter, you're disguised as a blind man, not actually blind," Davy said. "You can have your eyes open, the glasses make it so we can't see your eyes."
"Well, I thought closing my eyes would make the disguise more realistic," Peter said, facing the wrong direction entirely.
"Peter, I'm over here," Davy told him.
"Oh yeah," Peter said, turning around and hitting Davy's knees with his white cane.
"Ouch!" Davy said as Micky, behind the concierge desk, rang the bell four times in succession. "Oh, there's the signal! Let's get this over with."
"Wait," Peter said. "I can't remember my part of the plan!"
"Trip him on the stairs," Davy whispered before pushing his cleaning cart into the lobby, so Peter cautiously moved forward and ran into the door jam before moving past it and continuing on his way, heading toward the stairs.
Davy, meanwhile, started his part by placing a "CAUTION: WET FLOOR" sign on the tiled floors of the lobby, and then mopping the floor so it was very wet and very slippery.
They had convinced Tawnia to join in the plan; as a concierge, it was her job to inform Harry that a group of thugs were in the lobby looking for him.
Harry received the message, and followed by his thugs, hurried down the stairs, only to run into Peter, who happened to walk directly in front of him at just the right time. "Watch it!" Harry exclaimed angrily as he looked behind him at Peter. Turning back around, he slipped on the wet floor, conveniently tripping over the wet floor sign and landing headfirst in the soapy bucket, which Mike proceeded to rush towards the door while the rest of the goons continued slipping and sliding and falling to the ground.
Micky, dressed like a bouncer, had moved quickly to reach the front doors after ringing the bell, and now grimly held the door open while Mike unceremoniously dumped the now wet Harry into the large muddy puddle right off the curb, where the cars usually pulled up.
The Monkees all assembled in front of Harry as he stood, and they one by one pulled off their disguises, so he could see who they were.
Harry sputtered angrily. "You dare- I'll have you- you ought to be-"
"Awarded?" Micky suggested. "Congratulated? Thanked?"
"Arrested!" Harry shouted out. "I'll have you all arrested!"
"What if we had you arrested first?" Mike said calmly. "What if we told the police about how you've been vandalizing this hotel and assaulting the employees so you could force Mr. Spiner to close down the building and sell it to you? That sounds illegal to me."
"The police!" Harry scoffed. "They'd never believe four long-haired weirdo's like yourselves! You have no proof!"
"You mean you admit it?" Micky asked.
"Yes, I admit it," Harry said. "But nobody would take your word over mine!"
"We'll just see about that," said a man stepping out from behind a corner.
Harry gaped at the sight of the badge and uniform. "You- you heard all of that?" He asked.
"Sure did," the police-chief said. "We've been onto you for quite awhile, but had no proof. These four boys called us up and said they could get you to admit it."
"You- you set me up!" Harry exclaimed angrily.
"Yep," Micky said. "Yessir, we did," Mike said at the same time. "That's the way it goes," Peter was also saying, and Davy was nodding and "mm-hmm"ing his agreement.
Several more police officers were now stepping into the lobby and arresting the other goons. As they were all escorted to the cars, Tawnia frowned. "That's odd," she said.
"What?" Micky asked her.
"Well, they only arrested Harry and four goons," she said. "But I'm sure there were five earlier."
"That is strange," Mike said. "But I don't think it's too worrying. After all, one goon with no boss won't be able to do much against the hotel. You guys should all be safe now."
Needless to say, Mr. Spiner was extremely grateful to the Monkees. Not only did he promise to always have Micky and Peter's room ready for them, he gave the order to keep the room next to it free as well, for Mike and Davy. He also gave a standing order for them to have free food for every meal whenever they were in town, and he carved their names into the wooden beam overhanging the concierge desk.
He would have given them money, but he was still broke, even if he wasn't selling the hotel anymore. The Monkees all got together and decided to give him one last Christmas present. They offered to play a show in the hotel's club and restaurant, and Mr. Spiner agreed, but said not to be surprised if the room was empty all night.
Then Micky called up all his old friends, and told them to bring their friends, and he said to be sure and bring spending money for dinner. Mike, Peter and Davy hand-wrote a bunch of flyers advertising the grand un-closing of the hotel, and posted them all over town at bus stops, the train station, and anywhere else that seemed to have a lot of traffic.
The crowds came, the crowds danced, the crowds loved every minute of the Monkees' performance, and as they did their last song (White Christmas, Micky insisted on it, rubbing his shoulder and calling himself Danny Kaye for some reason), Mike could have swore he saw Mr. Spiner trying to hold back tears.
The next day, Micky woke up three hours earlier than usual, screamed like a little girl (which woke Peter up) then burst into Mike and Davy's room and vigorously shook them all awake, the whole while emitting a sort of high-pitched unending screech of sorts that they eventually discovered was his newest and rarest form of warp-speed-talk.
Once they were all awake and ready for the day, Micky practically jumped all four flights of stairs on his way to the kitchen, where Aunt franny had prepared a delicious Christmas breakfast fit for a king. Micky inhaled his food so fast that he choked and had to have all three of the other Monkees hit him on the back, then he jumped around and let out an enormous stream of speed-talk (the regular kind) until the others had finished breakfast.
At that point, they decided that they'd better take him to his mom's house before he exploded with anticipation, so they all piled into the Monkeemobile and drove to the house, Davy at the wheel so Peter and Mike could hold Micky down when he got too excited and almost fell out of the car again.
Upon reaching the house, it was all they could do to keep him in his seat until the engine stopped, and then they let him loose.
He had already burst into the door by the time the others undid their seatbelts, and as they walked up to the house, hearing three voices shrieking and screaming and shouting excitedly, they all looked at each other.
"Well," Mike said. "This is going to be one loud Christmas."
"I don't think I've ever seen Micky this excited before," Davy said, his eyes wide as they warily approached the front porch.
"You think this is loud," Peter said with a grin. "Wait 'till they start spontaneously bursting into Christmas carols. I swear, it's like they're mind-readers or something, they all just suddenly burst into a song, without so much as looking at each other."
When they got inside, Peter was tackled by Jenna, and then Micky's mom, Diane, while Jenna told him all about the past few years, using a speed-talk that rivaled Micky's, having already told the same thing to him. Then Diane turned her attention to Mike and Davy, and they were welcomed into the family the same way Peter had been all those Christmases ago.
They spent the day helping to decorate the house and prepare the Christmas feast, and Davy and Mike were startled when, true to Peter's word, Jenna, who was hanging garland over the door, Micky, who was stringing lights onto the tree, and Diane, who was making gravy in the kitchen, suddenly started belting out The Christmas Song in perfect three-part harmony. They got over it quickly enough, and Davy grabbed his Maracas and Mike got out his guitar and Peter got out his bass and everyone stopped what they were doing (except for Diane, who had to watch the gravy or it would thicken too quickly) and gathered in the kitchen to finish out the impromptu music recital.
After everything was ready, they all sat around and talked and Jenna told them all about school, and they told her all about their adventures as the Monkees. Micky got over-excited during an impromptu dramatization of the time when he had been forced to pretend to be a dancing chicken in a ballet so Davy could look for Peter who had been kidnapped by foreign spies, and proceeded to try and replicate the exact dance he had done onstage, right there in the living room.
Then they all had Christmas dinner together, with Diane at the head of the table, Micky and Jenna competing to see who could eat the most the fastest, Peter drowning absolutely everything on his plate in gravy (even the pumpkin pie) and Mike and Davy complimenting Diane's cooking and simultaneously trying to avoid getting their beverages spilt by Micky and Jenna, who had proceeded to arm-wrestle across the table.
After dinner, they opened all the presents from underneath the tree. All four of them got bags of sweets from Jenna, and they each got a sweater from Diane, matching red ones with their names embroidered in green on the front, and "The Monkees" embroidered in black on the back. Jenna got Diane a genuine autographed Monkees record (signed by all four Monkees!) that she had requested Micky bring, and she would pay him for it before they left.
Mike got Micky a new pair of boots, as Micky's had been getting pretty worn out. Davy got Peter a new multi-colored guitar strap, that looked very psychedelic. Micky got Jenna a cropped leather jacket, she had been talking about wanting one in the last note she'd scrawled to him on the back of her mother's letter. Peter got Mike a pair of black leather gloves that made him look like he wanted to strangle somebody. Mike asked what made Peter think of getting them for him for Christmas, and Peter said it was either that or the Mickey Mouse gloves. Everyone blinked, but thought better than to ask what he meant.
Mike got Davy a new set of maracas, and Peter suddenly got very quiet. Then Davy opened Peter's present and found... a new pair of maracas. Everyone laughed, and Davy promised that since he already played sometimes with four in each hand, he could still use both sets of maracas. Davy got Mike three new notebooks and a box of new pencils, as Mike went through paper and pencils so quickly when writing songs.
Peter gave Diane a simple gold chain with a crystal teardrop pendant he'd found in a thrift store and thought she might like, and he got Jenna a pretty silver charm bracelet, with a crystal heart charm, from the same store. Mike got Peter a string of peace-beads, as Peter's had snapped about a week earlier, and several of the beads had been lost down the drain of the kitchen sink, where Peter had been placing the dirty dishes.
Micky got Mike a giant-sized coffee cup shaped like a cowboy boot. Davy got Micky a small coffee cup the size of a shot glass, saying that it was in hopes of reigning in Micky's hyperness, when by all rights, he shouldn't be allowed to drink coffee anyway. In response, Micky playfully threatened to take back the present he got Davy. Davy retorted that he hadn't even opened it yet. So Micky made Davy open it, and Davy found a multi-colored plastic step-stool that said "BIG BOY" in large, childish looking letters. Davy got red in the face and sulked for a minute, but everyone else was laughing so hard that eventually, he saw the funny side of it, and declared that maybe now he would be able to look through the peep-hole of their front door.
Peter got Micky a giant green clock that had birds on the hour marks instead of numbers, and every time the hour changed, the respective bird chirped or whistled or whatever it is birds do. Micky immediately opened it and began changing the time to hear all the bird calls, and he tried his hand at imitating them. He absolutely loved it, but it only took about ten minutes for everyone else to discover they hated it, and Mike was already sighing at the thought that he shared a room with Micky and would be hearing these bird calls for as long as the clock lasted. After Micky was done playing with his clock, he handed a package to Peter, who opened it and discovered a silver harmonica, something he had recently decided to try and learn, saying it would "just make the band."
Davy and Mike, who hadn't met Jenna or Diane before, hadn't known what to get them, and so they had asked Micky and Peter what to get. Peter had said that both Diane and Jenna would love anything at all, because they knew that it wasn't the gift, but the giver. And Micky had said "I don't know. Make-up? Jewelry? Chocolate?" So they weren't much help. Finally, Davy had used his vast knowledge of girls in general to pick out the perfect gift for Jenna; a bottle of perfume that smelled so good, Micky threatened to pour in the sink when she unwrapped it. For Diane, he got a paisley-patterned apron that he had heard Micky say she would love while walking past. Mike hadn't had Davy's advantage, and he figured jewelry was a safe option, so for Jenna, he bought a pair of small red earrings he kind of liked, and he got Diane a rhinestone bracelet.
The last present was from Micky to his mother, and it was big, flat, and square. When Diane opened it, she found herself staring at a blown up image of the last picture taken of the family while Daryl was alive. In the picture, Micky, who was standing in the middle, had just said something funny, and his face was frozen mid-sentence, his mouth open and his eyes closed, looking proud of himself. Next to Micky, Jenna was doubled over in laughter, her eyes squeezed shut. On Micky's other side, Daryl had thrown his head back to laugh, so all that could be seen was his chin and open mouth. Directly behind Micky and Daryl was Peter, who had face-palmed at the joke, but was laughing anyway. And next to Peter was Diane, who was laughing at the joke, but at the same time, looking annoyed that they had ruined the picture, as she was the only one with her eyes open.
She held it and stared, and came very close to tears, before taking a deep breath and suddenly pulling Micky into a hug. Then she made him go on a hunt for a hammer and some nails, and Mike helped her hang it on the wall. Then, they all got bundled up and went Christmas caroling, something that Diane admitted she and Jenna had stopped doing, as they thought it rather silly to go caroling just the two of them. The Monkees brought their instruments, and everyone in the neighborhood said it was the best caroling they'd heard all night.
They ended the night with "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," and it made such an impact on Diane that after they returned home and were gathered around the fire with mugs of hot chocolate, she started singing it softly. The others joined her, Micky singing a high harmony, Mike singing a low, Peter strumming out a soft accompaniment, and Davy singing a soft echo during the chorus.
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas
May your heart be light
Next year, all our troubles will be out of sight.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the yuletide gay
Next year, all our troubles will be miles away!
Once again, as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Will be near to us once more.
Someday soon, we all will be together
If the fates allow
Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow.
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now."
And as the fire blazed and the room got quiet, each Monkee thought of the family members they wouldn't be seeing that year, Mike thought of his folks back at the ranch, Davy thought of his family back in England, Peter thought of his family back in Connecticut, and Micky stared at the picture of his father on the wall. And even though it was hard, even though it was sad, each Monkee found themselves thankful that this Christmas was spent with family, if not blood-relations for some, family nonetheless.
The train station was crowded with holiday travelers, people rushing to get to this relative's house or that relative's house, trying to catch trains and find buses, happy families meeting up after a long day of travel, even thought it was Christmas night itself, the station was far from busy. No one noticed as a man made his way through the crowd towards one of the telephone booths, and no one noticed the panicked look on his face, or the small sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was not looking forward to this call.
He dialed the number and waited anxiously for the man on the other end to pick up, and as soon as he heard the drawling "Hello?" through the receiver, he took a deep breath and resolved to get it over with.
"Hello, boss?" he said. "This is Georgie. ...Georgie Donaldson, yes. ...Well, you see, the thing is, we um... well, Harry, he... We lost the hotel. ...Yes sir, I'm sorry, sir, I know you said you wanted it, I know you said it was yours, but we ran into trouble... Yeah, it was four kids, they showed up outta nowhere and fought like they had some sorta vendetta against us. ...Yeah, four boys, a fuzzy-headed kid, a kid with a goofy hat, a blonde kid and a short british kid. Y-yes sir, that's what they called themselves, the monkeys. ...Two e's? What a stupid way to spell... Yes sir, they got Harry and the others arrested. I'm mighty sorry, sir, I- ...What? ...Oh, no sir, I'm just surprised you're taking it so well. I mean, your big project goin' down the drain... N-no sir, I'm not sayin' I's afraid or nothin'. ...Oh. I'm sorry sir, I swear, I won't say that again! But the hotel, sir, do you want us to try again? ...Oh, you've got something else planned? Okay... Yes sir... got it, sir... The boys? ...Oh, right, got it. Yes sir, I'll do that, sir, and I'll tell you everything I find out. Yes sir. Goodbye, sir."
With that, the man hung up the phone, stared at it for a minute, then let out a sigh of relief. Pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, he wiped his forehead and exited the phone booth, much happier than when he had stepped in. For whatever reason, the real boss hadn't seemed to care about losing the hotel. No, he was much more interested in those four boys, those Monkees...