Imagine: A World with John Lennon

Chapter 4: I'm Right Here

     On the way to John's house I fell asleep. the day had exhausted me, and I just couldn't keep my eyes open. I woke up to John saying my name.

   "Wake up, Jade. Come on now, love. We're here." said John.

     I opened my eyes to find that  i was leaned against John, my head resting on his shoulder.

   "Oh! Sorry." I said moving away from him embarrassed.

   "It's fine, love. My shoulder is yours whenever you need it." said John with a wink and a smile.

     My face turned red as he pulled me out of the car. It was still daylight, and I instantly knew where we were.

     Kenwood was one of the most beautiful places in the world. It pretty much looked like a cottage. A GIANT cottage. And I knew very well that there was a pool in the back along with stables. I had seen pictures of it, but seeing it in person was just...surreal. It made me think of the quote I used for my senior year:

Surrealism had a great effect on me because then I realized the imagery in my mind wasn't insanity. Surrealism to me is reality.     - John Lennon

     And now here I was. In the most surreal moment of my life.

   "I thought you said we were staying in Liverpool?" I said a bit taken aback at the estate.

   "We were going to, but Paul thought you would probably be more comfortable in a home, and Cavendish is pretty much in my backyard. He's missed Martha. Oh! And Cavendish and Martha are his-"

   "House and sheepdog." I said automatically, then feeling like an idiot I became silent.

   "You've done a good job at pretending you weren't a fan." John joked. I guess we had already dropped Paul at Cavendish.

   "Who isn't a fan of The Beatles? Especially in these times." I scoffed and mumbled the last. "Beatlemania caught me." I laughed. "I'm not one of the crazy, screaming girls though. I like you for your music, not just your pretty faces."

   "Well, that's refreshing. I was starting to doubt if the girls even knew we were musicians." he said honestly.

   I stayed silent until he pulled a bag out of the car and said with a smile, "So I suppose you know where you are?"

   No reason to lie. "Yep. Kenwood in Weybridge, Surrey, England." I replied from my memory.

     I was supposed to tour it this summer. If I went back and it was still the same day I left, it would do little to see it now that I'm here with John Lennon.

   "Right you are." said John unlocking the front door.

     We climbed the stairs to the upper floor, and he set his guitar and suitcase in what I could only assume to be his room. He beckoned me with him to a door three doors down from him and on the opposite side of the hall.

   "This is where you'll be staying. I hope you like it." he said opening the door.

     The room was ginormous.

     There was almost an exact replica of the vanity I have in my own room back home, but the mirror and chair were bigger, and wasn't covered in tie dye material.. The walls were a light pink, almost mauve, and the bed could have fit four people and still had a bit of room. The comforter was white with a pattern of green vines and pink roses. I wasn't really into pink, but I was in John Lennon's house, so it didn't really matter to me.

     There was a white wardrobe in the far corner with gold trim that appeared empty. Another door across from the bed was cracked opened to reveal what I thought to be a bathroom, and there were french doors a few feet from the bed that went out onto a balcony. The room was gorgeous, and to top it all off, there on the other side of the room was a little white piano pushed up against the wall.