Hard To Believe

Chapter Two

Rosemary opened the door to her and Carol's apartment and entered. She yawned tiredly, shrugged off her coat, and hung it in the coat closet. Carol appeared from the living room with a smile.

"Guess what's coming on the telly?" she said eagerly.

"Um... I don't know?" Rosemary shrugged.

"Come on!" Carol urged. "What've we been talking about before Russell called?"

"Oh!" Rosemary perked up. "The Monkees? Are they on now?"

"Almost," Carol replied. "It's their sixth episode, Success Story. I put the kettle on the stove. Could you take care of that? I need to change into my gown."

Rosemary nodded in response. As Carol left to her bedroom, Rosemary fled to the kitchen, where she found the kettle placed over the stove. She turned the stove on and waited by the counter. She flicked on the radio for some entertainment while she waited.

... We'll have time for coffee flavored kisses,

And a bit of conversation, oh

Oh, no, no, no

Oh, no, no, no

Rosemary took out the little bowl of sugar and the tray of cookies she and Carol had baked a few days ago. She pulled out two empty mugs and placed them on the tray along with the sugar and a couple of spoons.

Take the last train to Clarksville,

Now I must hang up the phone,

I can't hear you in this noisy railroad station all alone,

I'm feeling low

Rosemary froze. "Carol?" she called.

Carol burst into the kitchen, all excited and happy. "Yeah?"

"That song you were talking about today," Rosemary said. "The one by The Monkees. Is this it?"

Carol listened.

Take the last train to Clarksville,

And I'll meet you at the station,

You can be here by 4:30,

'Cause I've made your reservation,

Don't be slow

"Yeah, this is it!" Carol said brightly. "It's good, isn't it?"

"That'll be stuck in my head all night," Rosemary chuckled. "But yeah. It's great."

"I'll be in there," Carol nodded towards the living room. Once she left, Rosemary heard her cry, "Rose, it's on! Hurry up!"

"I'm listening, Carol," Rosemary assured her. "I'm almost done."

She listened as a male voice emitted from the television.

"Why am I the dummy? The dummy should be the dummy!"

Another voice emerged. This one had a British accent.

"They're his cards! Don't antagonize him!"

Rosemary burst out laughing. She heard Carol chuckling in the living room.

"Rose, these guys are so cute! Especially the tall one!" Carol giggled.

"The tea's almost done!" Rosemary called.

As the kettle began to whistle, another one of The Monkees' voice sounded. This one had a Texan accent.

"Ohh! Fellas, I'd like you to meet the general."

"I ain't no general."

Rosemary poured the tea into the mugs.

"That's Mr. Schneider. He's our adviser."

Carol laughed. "Mr. Schneider's the dummy, Rose!"

Rosemary chuckled as she listened.

"Which one of you guys is Davy Jones?"

She nearly dropped the tray. The name eerily echoed in her ears. Davy Jones. She shook her head. Surely they were talking about another Davy Jones. Right?

"Rosemary?" Carol said numbly. "You'd better come see this."

Rosemary sucked in a sharp breath. She slowly entered the living room and set the tray down on the coffee table. She gazed at the telly and examined the four boys who were surely The Monkees themselves.

She choked on her own breath as the shortest of The Monkees stood up from a chair.

"I'll take it."

"Ah ah! A buck eighty."

"Well, Mr. Schneider will pay for it because he's the only one that's, uh... working."

The four lads sprinted away to another room with the letter.

"Rose," Carol said worriedly. "It's... you know..."

"Oh no!" the lad with the British accent gasped. "My grandfather, he's arriving from England at 6:00 tonight!"

"Why so down?" the one with the Texan accent asked. "I thought you said he was a groovy guy."

"He is, he's the greatest in the world. But... that's why I don't want to see him."

"Carol, that's..." Rosemary choked out. "That's Davy!"

***

"What part of 'go away' did you not understand?"

"You lied to me, Davy."

"What you did this time was unforgivable!"

"I don't ever want to see you again!"

"Rosemary!"

Davy's eyes snapped open in shock. He gasped for breath as he slowly and shakily sat up on his bed. Perspiration shone on his cheeks and forehead. Her voice reverberated and bounced off the walls around him. The voice he hadn't heard for two years until now.

He buried his face in his hands and shuddered. He squeezed his eyes shut, a sudden feeling of sadness welling up inside the pit of his stomach. It was unsettling.

"Davy?"

Davy jumped in surprise, nearly tumbling off his bed. "Mike?"

On his right was Mike's bed, and sitting up on the bed was a very sleepy, droopy-eyed Mike.

"You ok?" Mike yawned.

Davy swiped a trembling hand across his forehead to mop up the sweat and silently nodded. Mike furrowed his eyebrows in concern as his exhaustion slowly and steadily left his system.

"Davy?" he said worriedly. "You ain't looking too hot."

"I'm ok," Davy assured him. "Just a dream."

"You want to talk about it?"

A shiver crept down Davy's spine. Swallowing thickly, he shook his head. "Not really."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, positive."

Mike bit his lower lip, but gave in. "Alright then," he said quietly.

Davy waited for Mike to fall back asleep. Once he was sure he had drifted off, he blew out a shaky breath as his eyes burned with tears. He forced them back and allowed his head to fall back against his pillow.

He didn't sleep for the rest of the night.