It had been a couple of days since the group had moved into the hotel, and there wasn't so much as a whisper about Jeff, at least as far as they knew. Cara was content, but still didn't want to go for Peter just yet. Maybe she was just worrying too much, but oh well. She just wanted to be safe and at least wait until they were able to go back home as normal. Now, Cara was out in the living room lounging on the couch with Mickey, who was plucking the strings on the acoustic guitar that had been sitting out there.
"So Cara," said Mickey, suddenly breaking the silence and making Cara jump out of her skin. "Just out of the question, have you learned any self-defense moves? Ya know, with all this crap going on?"
"Oh," said Cara. She hadn't really thought about it, to be honest. "No. Jeff never let me; he didn't want me to be able to overpower him I guess."
"Yeah, I'd think so, makes sense," said Mickey. "Nevertheless, I think you should learn…just in case some shit goes down."
"Would be good," said Cara. "Do you have any moves?"
"Are you kidding?" said Mickey, standing up. "I'm Mickey Dolenz for God's sake, I can beat the living hell out of anyone who is unfortunate enough to cross my path!" He then proceeded to slam his fist into the table in the living room—very hard. His face scrunched up in pain and he cradled his hand, shaking it out while moaning, "Owwww…"
Cara giggled. "Are you sure now?" she said.
"Positive," said Mickey, shaking his hand out. "Table just caught me off guard…it's lucky for that…"
Cara rolled her eyes. "Oh, boy do I believe you," she said. "That table would have never had a chance. Are you gonna teach me any of these neck-breaking moves, O great master?"
"Well, ya know, if you want," said Mickey, shrugging.
"I suppose any little bit is enough," said Cara. "I honestly never thought of it before."
"Well, time to let Uncle Mickey teach you a thing or two," said Mickey. "Stand up and throw me a punch."
"What…you want me to punch you?" asked Cara.
"Yeah, in the gut, come on now," said Mickey. He threw his arms out to the side. "I'm not gonna take a swing at you, I promise."
"But…won't I hurt you?" said Cara in a small voice.
"Nah, me? Come on baby, I've got abs of steel!" said Mickey. "Come at me!"
Cara took a deep breath and closed her little hand into a fist. Reluctantly, she brought her arm back and sprung it forward right into Mickey's stomach. She really didn't think she hit that hard, but as soon as she made contact, Mickey doubled over, gasping for breath and fell to the floor, moaning in pain. "Oh my God, Mickey!" shouted Cara, kneeling down to see if he was okay. "Did I hurt you?"
As soon as Mickey got his breath back, he responded, "Wow Cara, you've got quite an arm on you."
"What in the hell is going on out here?" said Mike, who just walked in the door after grabbing breakfast downstairs.
"Mickey wanted to teach me self-defense moves, so he asked me to punch him…" said Cara bashfully, still kneeling over Mickey's body on the floor.
"Ah," said Mike, shaking his head and walking over to the two. "You okay Mick?" he asked.
"Never better," said Mickey sarcastically.
"Cara, something you have to learn about Mickey," said Mike. "He's a weakling."
"Yeah, abs of steel my ass," said Cara. "You doing alright down there Mickey?"
"I'll live," said Mickey, pulling himself off of the floor. "I doubt that was enough to put Jeff out of commission, but it's a start."
"I dunno how hard she got you, but you might wanna put some ice on that," said Mike. Mickey grunted and sat down on the couch. All of the sudden, there was a large crash and a shout of pain coming out from the room Peter and Cara shared. "Geez, is everyone gonna get hurt today?" said Mike.
The door opened and a fully-dressed, disgruntled-looking Peter practically limped out into the living room. "What in the world happened to you?" asked Cara, holding back laughter.
"Never try to get dressed before coffee," was all Peter said in a monotone. Mike, Mickey, and Cara all snorted. Peter drew a long sigh and nearly sat on Mickey, who yelped and flailed. "Oh, sorry," said Peter, sitting next to Mickey instead of on top of him.
"I've never seen you like this before," said Cara, enthralled by the new side of Peter. She, of course, was a morning person, so the thought of anyone being grumpy in the morning was strange to her.
"Oh, trust me, this is definitely Peter Tork at your service," said Mike. Cara giggled.
"Well, no matter who's a morning person here or not, I wanna do something other than being cooped up in this little room," said Cara, who was getting restless. "Where are Davy and Abigail?" Right on time, a loud, girlish giggle came from behind their door.
"Wonder which one that came from," said Mickey.
"Probably either," said Peter.
"Lighten up man," said Mike. "I'm sure Davy and Abigail will be fine all by their lonesome in their room…for now let's go exploring around the hotel, there's bound to be something to do."
"Sounds good to me," said Cara. "Come on gents, let's go on adventure."
"Like we haven't had enough of those sense we met you," said Peter. "I need some coffee."
"I'm sure they have some downstairs Peter, come on," said Mike. By some miracle, Peter was up off the couch and the four left Davy and Abigail in their room to do God knows what as Cara, Mickey, Mike, and Peter hit the hotel halls.
Jeff drove the streets of town, searching for a lead to where Cara may have gone off to. He remembered something Jane had told him a while ago…where Cara worked. Ah, he remembered, it was that head shop right outside where he had hit Peter in his goofy red car. Nodding in appreciation for his quick wits, he headed in that direction. He'd talk to the boss—he was probably just a dried-out hippie anyway.
He eventually found his way over to the head shop, properly named Psychedelic Psycho, and went inside. At the counter he saw Bill, who was organizing the money in the cash register. "Can I help you?" he asked, obviously not knowing who had just walked in the door.
"I'm looking for a girl," said Jeff. "She works here, where is she?"
"Oh, Cara?" asked Bill. "She had to leave unexpectedly, personal issues, not mine to discuss."
Jeff lunged forward and gripped Bill's shirt collar, holding him over the counter and into his face. "Listen idiot, that personal problem? Yeah, that's be me, and if you don't tell me where that little slut is, I'm gonna rip your scalp off and burn it with your incense and make you watch. Got it?" he growled.
"Ohho! So you're that asshole Jeff?" said Bill, not in the least bit intimidated. "Wow, do what you want with me sir, but I ain't telling you shit!"
Jeff pulled him in closer. "You wanna try that again?" he said menacingly.
"Hell no!" said Bill. "Look sir, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you let me go, I've got some work to do."
Jeff was actually rather impressed with the hippie's spirit; he let him go forcefully. Maybe he'd give him just one chance at this. "Okay punk, you wanna play games, fine," said Jeff. "But I better hear something about where Cara is, cause I know you know. Once more chance, or else I'm gonna make you wish you've never been born, you got it?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Bill, straightening his shirt. "Just get the hell out of my store, I don't like people like you in here, you got that?"
"I'm leaving now, but you ain't seen the last of me," said Jeff as he started to walk out.
"Doubt that," said Bill getting back to his work.
"What's that supposed to mean tough guy," said Jeff, turning back around.
"Oh, nothing," said Bill sarcastically. "Now just get yourself out of here kid, don't hurt yourself on your way out." Jeff growled at the guy and left. Bill was tough and brave, he'd give him that, but there was no way he'd lose to a scruffy hippie like him. He got back in his car and drove off. On his way, he passed the sandwich shop where Jane worked…no…not today, he thought as he passed it. That was for another day. But it would happen.
Inside the shop, Bill was actually scared. How could Jeff have found out that Cara and the boys ran off? He searched through his drawer for the number to the hotel room that Cara gave him when the room was booked. He found it and dialed it. The phone rang for a bit, and then went directly to the answering machine. They must not be in the room. He hung up, making a solemn promise to himself and Cara to try and call later. He was not gonna let a bastard like Jeff get anywhere near her.
"So you happy Pete?" asked Mike as Peter sipped on a warm cup of coffee.
"Much better," said Peter, starting to get his usual normal glow back. "Cara, I really don't understand how you do that whole morning thing."
Cara shrugged. "I just do, can't explain it," she said.
"Well I'm in no hurry to learn your secrets," said Peter.
"Hey, look!" said Mickey. "It's the magazine with our story!"
"Really?" asked Cara and Peter as they rushed over.
"Oh now look, it really is!" exclaimed Mike, holding it up and flipping through the pictures. "I wonder if anyone will recognize us here!"
"I would find no surprise in that," said an old man walking over. "Hello Peter, are these your friends?"
"Hello Charles!" said Peter. "Yeah, these are my friends Mike, Mickey, and Cara. Guys, this is Charles, we met the other day."
"Pleasure to meet you three," said Charles. "Cara, you are indeed a lovely young lady."
"Oh, why thank you," said Cara bashfully, yet flattered. Goddamit Peter, why did he have to be so sweet?
"Gee, I wonder where he got that idea," Mike muttered as a side note to Peter, who elbowed him in the ribs.
"But as I was saying," said Charles. "I noticed the magazine after I met Peter, and recognized him from the pictures, and when I found out you were staying here with friends, I assumed they were the rest of the band and told a few higher-ups. Upon seeing your two friends here, I see that I'm right."
"Wait—you're gonna try and get us booked for something?" asked Mickey.
"Well it's worth a shot, ain't it kid?" asked Charles. "Where's that short fellow you have with you who was in the pictures with you? Is he here too?"
"Oh, Davy?" asked Peter. "Yeah, he's back at the room."
"Perfect," said Charles. "What do you kids play? That rock n' roll stuff?"
"Yessir, finest in the land sir!" said Mike, excited.
The old man laughed. "Well, I certainly have no doubts," he said. "Let me bring someone over, you all wait right there." Charles walked off, and right as he was doing so, Davy and Abigail came rushing over.
"Hey, there you guys are!" said Davy. "Where they hell were you?"
"Around," said Mike. "We figured we'd give you a little private time."
"Charles is gonna get us booked!" said Peter, not thinking that Davy or Abigail knew who Charles was or what getting booked was all about.
"Wait—who's Charles and where are we getting booked?" asked Davy.
"An old man who works here, our magazine article is out here and he recognized us from the pictures, and now he's talking to people here about getting us a job here!" said Peter, barely able to take a breath.
"Wow, that's awesome!" said Abigail. "Talk about a lucky break!"
"Yeah, hope it actually goes somewhere," said Mickey. Just then, Charles came back with another middle-aged man.
"Hello," said the other man briskly. "Richard Nicholas Backer at your service!" He shook Peter's hand firmly. "But you all can call me Rick N. Backer, for kicks."
"It's nice to meet you Mr. Backer," said Peter.
"And who might you be round here?" asked Mike.
"I'm the hotel manager, and resident booking agent," said Rick. "And I understand that you men are a rock group who are interested in a job."
"Anything we can get at this point," said Mickey.
"What do you call yourselves?" asked Rick.
"A bunch of long haired weirdoes looking for a job," said Davy.
"No, no, I mean your name!" said Rick.
"Oh, sorry," said Davy. "We're The Monkees."
"Ah, I love it!" said Rick. "'The Monkees'…brilliant! So in…so—how do you say it? Groovy!"
"I'm starting to get a kick out of this guy," said Mike to Mickey.
"These your little groupies?" asked Rick, looking down at a now glairing Cara and Abigail.
"Never mind," said Mike to Mickey again.
"They're our friends," said Peter. "Abigail's Davy's girlfriend and Cara's a—a friend." Cara could tell it took Peter every ounce of his fiber to say that. She felt horrible.
"Oh, I see, terribly sorry about that," said Rick. "I guess you never know these days, my apologies." Cara still wasn't very happy, but she'd let it blow over. There were worse things.
"So how long is your stay here?" asked Rick.
"However long it takes," said Mickey. "Let's just say the six of us are on an extended vacation."
"Sounds like personal business, that's fine with me," said Rick. Cara sighed quietly with relief. She didn't want many people to know why they were away here. The less people, the better. "So then I take it any time to play is good?"
"Whatever you can give us!" said Mike.
"How bout Thursday?" asked Rick. "Today's Monday, so it'll give you some time to prepare…I take it you have instruments here?"
"Yes, we do," said Mike. "Do we need an audition?"
"Nah, just be down here with everything Thursday at five and we'll set everything up," said Rick.
"Wow, really?" asked Davy. "That's bloody swell of you ya know."
"I pride myself in being just that," said Rick. "I've gotta go now, but just call on Rick N. Backer if you need anything else!" With that, Rick walked off to do whatever manager things he had to do.
"Wow man, thanks!" said Mike to Charles. "That was sweet!"
"Don't mention it," said Charles. "I want to help people, it's my job. Hope this works out for you."
"It'll be great," said Peter. "Thanks Charles, you sure are a help!"
"Glad to be of service boys," said Charles. "Unfortunately, I have to get back to work as well. I'll run into you kids later. Have fun!" Charles walked off as well, leaving the group in the lobby.
"Wanna get back up to the room?" asked Cara. "That was enough excitement for me, and maybe you all should practice."
"Sounds like a good plan," said Mike. "Alright gang, back up we go." The group got back up to the room, and opened a door to a ringing phone.
"I've got it," said Cara, answering it. "Hello?" she asked.
"Hey, this is Bill from Psychedelic Psycho," said the man who answered, obviously Bill. "This Cara?"
"Yeah Bill, it is," said Cara. "Is everything okay?"
"Well, the shop had an unwanted visitor earlier," said Bill.
"Who?" asked Cara, growing nervous.
"Jeff burst in demanding to know where you are," said Bill. "I didn't tell him shit but I know he's gonna come back and try again. Just stay where you are, please. Just thought I'd tell you."
"Oh, wow, thanks," said Cara. "Yeah, I'll be on the lookout."
"He doesn't know anything yet," said Bill. "But be careful. I've gotta go now, customers. Talk to you later." He hung up, leaving Cara to hang up the phone, stunned.
"What's wrong?" asked Davy.
"Jeff interrogated Bill about me in Psychedelic Psycho," said Cara. "Bill didn't say anything, but still."
"Wow," said Peter. "I hate to say it, but he's getting smarter."
"Bastard," said Abigail. "He won't find you Cara, don't worry."
"I'm not worried," said Cara, and she really wasn't. She had friends here, and Jeff had nothing. Even Jane, who was her enemy just weeks before, was with her. She was quite content where she was, thank you very much, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon. So come on Jeff, Cara thought. Come at me.