Missing You...

Chapter Eleven

Tuesday, 2 December 1980

John kept his promise and took Paul out sightseeing. They had a wonderful time wandering around the city. At one point they were caught in a really big crowd of people making their way down the street. John and Paul were squashed up against each other, their shoulders knocking together. Then, almost mechanically, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world, John reached out and took Paul's hand in his own. Paul felt John's fingers brush against his, trying to make its way through his clenched fist. Paul let his hand loosen up and allowed John to hold his hand. 

"If there hadn't been so many people around," Paul said later on, "I bet he would have gone right in and kissed me." (This statement was often followed by a sad shake of the head.)

Paul glanced over at John as the walked further down the street. John's face was carefully expressionless, but he was nibbling his lip. Paul could tell he was deciding whether he wanted to kiss him there and then or not. The crowd started to thin out, so John quickly let go of Paul's hand and shoved his own into his coat pocket. He looked around warily, worried in case someone might have noticed. Paul gently patted his shoulder.

"No one saw us, silly." he hissed.

"Oh, I know." John said airily, "I'm just worried in case someone wants to steal you away from me. Look at you, Paul. Who wouldn't want to hold hands with you?"

Paul's cheeks flushed scarlet. "Don't be so ridiculous, you queer!"

"It's the truth." John gave Paul a goofy smile with all of his teeth showing.

The pair trotted along together, occasionally glancing over at each other and flashing silly smiles. They eventually reached a big green gate with the words Amoureux' Garden in twirly golden letters. Paul glanced at the sign, then he looked at John, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"What?" John asked.

"If I'm not mistaken," Paul said. "the name of this garden is French."

John shrugged, "Yes. So?"

"No reason. I just wonder what the word "amoureux" means."

"Maybe it mean ass sucker!" John said, laughing like a hyena.

"Don't be ridiculous." Paul mumbled, struggling to stay straight-faced. He grabbed John's wrist and pulled him through the gates. "Let's see what this park is like."

They took a moment to take in their surroundings, stupefied by the explosion of colour. There were little gardens full of poppies, daffodils, and an assortment of others flowers. They swayed in the breeze, their leaves waving demurely. The sound of birds chirping could be heard, some resting in the trees overhead, others pecking obliviously at the ground. There were different kinds of people scattered everywhere; young couples strolling along hand-in-hand, men plugged into their Walkmans jogging down the walking tracks, laughing children running ahead of their parents, a sad-looking old man seated on a park bench with a beer can clutched in his hand; the normal park goers. John and Paul saw a gaggle of smaller children standing nearby, chucking lumps of bread into a small duck pond while their mothers looked on fondly.

"It's just a normal old park!" John said, disgusted. "Why does it have such a fancy name?"

"I don't know..." said Paul. "Let's walk around a bit. Maybe there's a snack stand or something."

They didn't find a snack stand or a street vendor of any kind. John and Paul found something much better than that. They walked in silence for a few minutes, rounding the small duck pond, John staying well away from any geese that happened to be strutting by. He was complaining that a goose had tried to eat him when he was younger, so he couldn't go near them and couldn't he and Paul just go home? Paul ignored John's whines. He'd suddenly stopped walking. His eyes went wide.

"Oh, John!" he breathed. "Look at that!"

"What?" said John, peering around. "What am I looking at?"

Paul pointed at something further up the path. There was a cluster of small oak trees, their leaves swaying in the light breeze. They were in a semicircle formation around a much bigger oak tree, possibly the biggest oak tree John and Paul had ever seen. Its roots were so big and supple that most of them were bursting out from underground, and its branches reached so far up that Paul couldn't see were the tree ended and the sky began. There was also something else bizarre about this tree. It was covered in hundreds of colourful ribbons.

"Why does that poor tree have so much fabric on it?" John asked the air in front of him.

"It looks beautiful." said Paul, sighing dreamily. "I wonder what it's for?"

"It's a very special tree." said a voice from behind them. John and Paul whipped around, startled by the sudden comment. They saw a young woman standing behind them. She was smiling enigmatically as if she knew a great secret but wasn't letting on to it. Most of her face was hidden by her long, raven black hair, but her eyes were clearly visible, sparkling bright blue in a mysterious manner. "It's a very special tree." she said again.

"What makes it special?" John inquired.

"It's a wishing tree." the girl replied.

"A wishing tree?" John blinked in astonishment. "Hear that, Paulie? We've stumbled across a wishing tree! How neat is that!"

"Very." Paul said, smiling broadly. "How do you suppose we make a wish?"

"That's simple." said the girl, taking them both by the hand and leading them towards this magical tree. "There are baskets of different coloured ribbons all around the base of the tree. Each colour of ribbon grants you a special kind of wish. Like pink ribbons grant love wishes, and blue ones grant friendship wishes, the list goes on. All you do is pick a ribbon, write your name on it, and then whisper your wish as you tie the ribbon to a tree branch."

"A lot of people have been doing it." Paul remarked, nodding at the thoroughly embellished branches. "Shall we have a go, Johnny?"

"All right." said John. Both he and Paul wandered around the tree for a minute or two, looking at all the possible choices for wishes. There were a lot to choose from. They both stopped at the basket that contained pink ribbons. Paul reached in and picked one, and John followed.

"I think we could use some love, John." Paul said, laughing.

"Me especially." said John. He glanced up at the tree, selecting the perfect branch. He took his pink ribbon and tied it tightly. His eyes were squeezed shut, so Paul guessed he was wishing hard. He tried to figure out what John's wish might be but he couldn't be sure. John was such an unpredictable person that you could never guess what he was thinking.

"Right, Paulie. Your turn!" said John, jumping down from the raised platform the tree was standing on. "What are you going to wish for?"

"I can't tell you." Paul replied, smiling mysteriously. He reached up and carefully tied the pink ribbon around the nearest branch, muttering his wish. John watched his lips, wondering if Paul was wishing for a new girlfriend or children or something like that, but he didn't know for certain. Paul had changed a lot from his and John's last meeting, and he'd developed a much more complex personality. A thought suddenly struck John.

"What if he's using his love wish... for me?"

On the way back to the Dakota, John asked Paul if he'd made a really good wish. Paul said that he thought it was a good wish, and he was hoping it would come true before he had to go back home to London. This took John by surprise.

"You're going home?" he said, amazed. "When?! Why?! What?"

"I'll have to go home, John." Paul said. "I've got a big tour coming up in a few weeks."

"But - but you have to stay!" John cried. "My wish won't -"

John was suddenly interrupted. A car had sped past them, running right through a huge puddle of rainwater, and completely dousing both John and Paul with freezing cold water. They both screamed and swore violently at the driver, but they were soon laughing. They hurried home, practically skimming the pavement. John was still laughing but on the inside, he was worried. If Paul had to leave soon then maybe his wish wouldn't come true. He had only just begun to feel truly happy again, and soon that feeling would disappear.

John felt like crying.