Dear Sean

Two

            Sean, in life you go through many frustrating things. Life will do anything to try to get you off balance, to try to knock you down. But sometimes your problems are coming from your own decisions.

            My problem with Uncle Paul was coming from my own decision not to try to talk to him. So Daddy decided to be the bigger man because Daddy is the best and don’t you ever forget that.

            I looked in the phonebook and called Uncle Paul to let him know that he’d upset me by not coming. Sometimes you have to tell people about your feelings, but be sure to always do it gently.

            “Bastard!” I shouted. “I’m trying to apologize here!”

            “You’re doing a shit job of it, John!”

            “Oh.”

            “Oh? What, oh?”

            “You never call me John, just Lennon.”

            “Well… well… it was a mistake.”

            “No it wasn’t. You bloody well love me, Paul.”

            I had no idea what had prompted this statement and was beginning to panic, because really, why had I just said that?

            “John, just ask nicely and I’ll come,” Paul said reasonably.

            “Fine, your fucking highness, if you’d be so kind as to grace me with your holy presence for an afternoon, sir.”

            “Nicely.”

            I looked around, hoping Mimi wasn’t anywhere near enough to hear this, and dropped my voice.

            “I’m sorry, Paul. When I talked to you the other day, you seemed interesting. Now will you please come to the bloody rehearsal so I can try you out?” I said, my patience wearing out by the end of my little speech.

            Paul chuckled and the line crackled slightly. “Alright, John.”

            Paul told me he was busy and I apologized nicely. Everything worked out in the end because Uncle Paul and I got together for the rehearsal. Everyone was happy to be able to play together.

            “Who’s the new one, that McCartney lad…” Colin said in a hushed voice.

            Paul was tuning his instrument quietly in a corner, not really talking to anyone. Usually he was always one to be social, but these Quarrymen boys intimidated him; they were John’s friends and all roughly his age, making Paul two years their junior.