Jump: A Beatles Fan-Fiction

Epilogue: January 30th, 1969 || London, England

The cool London air swirled around me as I climbed up the fire escape of an apartment building. I could hear soft, thumping, music in the distance.

The sound shook up the usually ordinary and monotonous direction that the day had seemed to be going. I suppose that for some people, the day was still ordinary and monotonous. Wake up, walk to work, eat, sleep, and so on. But anyone in the vicinity of Three Saville Road, London that day, would probably remember that moment for the rest of their life.

Yes, I guess I cheated a little. I was able to come back to that exact time and place, knowing full well what events would unfold. I reached the roof of the building to find two other men already standing there, peering off in the distance.

They wore large coats, as it was January, and held cigarettes in their hands. Not seeming to notice my arrival, they were still looking in the direction of another building. I walked to the edge of the roof, blowing into my hands to warm them. The mist from my breath floated into London's grey air.

I looked below at all of the people, who were gazing up. They weren't staring at me, rather at the building across from the one I was on; the one that The Beatles were having their final concert on.

It was difficult to hear the music clearly, but the bass thumped along. John's voice would pierce through the freezing air, or a symbol from Ringo's kit could be heard.

I could see John's large off-white guitar that he strummed as he sang, trying in vain to keep his hair from blowing into his face. I saw Ringo's firetruck-red coat, as he bobbed along to the music. Paul was dark and handsome as ever. And George's large, fluffy coat seemed to be keeping him warm. Even now, they clicked together. The music flowed freely through them, and I could feel it touching my soul.

That's why I love them.

I thought about this moment, and all of the adventures I had been on with The Beatles. Though my time with them wasn't nearly as long as many others, I really did feel grateful to have spent a bit of time around them.

Do they even remember me? They haven't seen me in years. Was my little fiasco even a staple in the lives of the band? I thought as I watched them.

I could hear the baseline of Get Back starting to play. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. I thought.

Get back, get back

Get back to where you once belonged

I heard the lyrics, though they were faint, they still resonated in my mind. They repeated a couple of times, and then the song ended. Just then, policemen came up onto the roof where The Beatles were playing. It looked like the party was over. The camera men began to pack up their equipment.

The two men on the roof walked away, but I stayed for a moment. The Beatles began to pack their instruments up, and I watched them. They appeared happy. Or at least, that's how I wanted them to appear.

I looked down at George, he seemed to start looking around at the city. I waved to him.

He paused a moment.

Penny how silly, even if he did remember you, he probably wouldn't recognize you from this distance, I thought.

Then he began to frantically wave back. He called to Paul, John and Ringo, then he pointed at me. They were all waving now.

It seemed that maybe I had left a small imprint on the great lives of The Beatles. I wiped away a tear from my cheek, and continued waving for a couple of seconds.

I looked down at the Jump Reader. It was time for me to depart. I set the coordinates for home, and looked up at The Beatles, my friends I think.

I pressed the 'Jump' button, I waved as the boys faded from my view. I could see their fuzzy figures waving back, the buildings of London disappearing as I returned to my own decade.

~The End~