Redemption

~33

John spied Frank rush out of the sentry box to the right of the main entrance of the building.

The Dakota was a stamp of defiance on the New York skyline, the structure had the look of strength in its architecture and lines. Almost foreboding were the lengthening shadows as the sun fell toward the western skies.

The four-hour trip plus traffic jam chaos edged the travel time closer to the six hour mark and what was left of the late afternoon sunshine met John and Issy as the Lincoln had pulled around the corner of the block.

John lit another cigarette, counting to himself how many it had been today. Too many. When Sean was tiny he was down to a mere one or none a day then as Sean grew so did his need for the nicotine. With age Sean gained independence, didn't need his daddy for buttering his toast, or going to the bathroom for that matter, thus daddy got bored, fingers idle and lacking motivation, it also certainly didn't help with others in the household smoking like chimneys...

Number fourteen twirled in his fingertips as he clocked the number of fans stood about. It was a colourful melee that stood in the buildings long shadows. En mass, the tide of many moved as one into the forecourt, watching with interest as the buildings security comes alive and hightails it toward the lone car pulled up, warmed by the last of the afternoon sunshine. Johns hand lingered, hovering over the gear stick to instigate escape; to let him pull them both safely away from the kerb again, maybe go to Julian's, maybe just stuff it all and go back to the lake.

He hesitated though, watching as Frank burst through the crush and dart to the kerb.

It was all too late. The melee became people. People who mattered. People who loved the Beatles or maybe 'loved' him. Rightly or wrongly he was at the centre of their thoughts right now. It wasn't right to turn away. Like domino's one after another, guys hooted and woman squealed and the incoming tide rushed for the Lincoln.

Game on.

Issy counted the throng before the scream went up. Upwards of seventy maybe eighty stood about, idly talking, holding records, paper, books, cameras. Nothing other than apartments on this block so it was reasonable to say the group were all patiently waiting for the star resident, John Lennon.

Frank waved at John and cast an eye in Issy's direction, she guessed he was spotting her so he didn't accidentally lose her in the crowd later. John watched the watchers. Kids and women, more than a few older guys around his own age, and an elderly grandmotherly type all peered at him through the dust covered windows. His zoo, his cage. He flicked the ash into the centre tray of the console and turned about in his seat ignoring the noise behind him.

"Sorry. There's so many today. Forgot it's the weekend" John grinned with a pained expression, continuing "More on weekends, you know, trips into the city, folks off work ...ahhhh how about you stay here and when I get down further, toward the forecourt, you pop round the lot of em? What do you think- Sound ok?"

'I guess so ..." Issy watched all the watchers over Johns shoulder, peering and ogling in at her. No, at him. Although, a few were peering at her with interest with more than a few with questioning eyebrows raised "No, umm, I'll come with"

"You want to come into the crowd? You sure?"

"Definitely" Issy stuck on a grin that was hardly any better than Johns own. Her insides were clenching and her heart raced much like the first time she came to the Dakota, but for another reason entirely!

John nodded, trusting she knew what she was agreeing to and proceeded to climb out of the car jokingly hollering to his gathered audience "Hello. Hello there! Take a number, get in line, if you can't, I won't bloody sign" Laughter rang out all around and Issy smiled at his tension relieving words.