Mike, after reading the review for the 100th time, folded the paper slowly and dropped it onto the table outside on the porch where he was sitting while the sun was rising as Ginger sat some coffee down beside him. He rocked his chair back and laughed a little.Ginger just gave a little smile. She knew Mike was proud of the movie the Monkees had released and she hated the fact the critics and fans were giving it such a hard time. For her part, she loved the movie and what the boys had done in making it. The group had been hard pressed to make a movie that was simply an extended version of the show, but they had refused, instead opting to do something more far-out and artistic (and slaughtering to their image, even though their recent records and third and fourth season had helped to gain them some more respect than they had initially gotten).
They were being absolutely lambasted for it.
After all of the dust from the movie had settled--the fight for what type of movie it should be and the critical disgust--the boys had decided to end the television show.
"You know what I can't believe?" Mike said very serenely, looking out over the misty landscape.
"What?" Ginger said.
"I can't believe that for four years it was okay to people for me to run around like an idiot in that hat, and yet the critics, for a long time at least, hated it. I do something truer and artistic, and everyone hates it, too. I'm begining to think this whole thing is a curse."
"By whole thing do you mean the movie or the Monkees all together?"
Mike didn't answer, and Ginger didn't drag it out of him.
"What time are the guys supposed to be here?" Ginger asked after a period of concious silence.
"About an hour," Mike answered. "I don't want whatever it is we need to do to shoot the whole day."
Ginger nodded and Cole walked outside, having just woken up.
"Morning mommy, daddy."
"Hey, son," Mike said as he lifted the little boy onto his lap. He was starting to look so much more like Mike as he got older. He was arms and legs.
"Is your brother awake?" Ginger asked him.
Cole nodded, obviously content to go back to sleep on Mike as he rested his head on his chest.
Sure enough, Sean came toddling out after his brother and Ginger picked him up.
It was quiet once again, then Mike said, "I wonder what would happen if Gene Autry and Chuck Berry played a concert together..."
Ginger gave him a look, then thought about it. "Sounds pretty far-out..."
After a bit longer, Ginger went inside and made some breakfast and the four ate outside. As soon as they were finishing, there was a knock on the door.
Ginger gathered up Sean and Cole and answered the door. It was Micky.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey Mick," Ginger said. "Mike's out in the back on the patio. I'm going out with the kids so you all can be alone to... whatever. I'll see ya."
"Bye," Micky said and shut the door. He went and found Mike outside, sitting at the table. "Hey man."
Mike nodded and Micky sat down. As soon as he did so, Peter and Davy appeared.
"We met Ginger on the way in and she told us where you were," Davy explained as he and Peter both sat down.
Mike didn't seem to be paying much attention to them. He was looking out at the horizon, seeming not to even notice the other three.
Micky was fidgeting with things on the table uncomforatably, talking about whatever popped into his head.
Davy was casting looks to all of them, waiting to see what was going to happen, if anything.
All of a sudden Peter blurted out what was going to happen. "Guys, I'm quitting."
Davy's eyes landed on him, and Micky stopped talking. Mike continued to seem uninterested.
Nobody said a word. Peter's statement just floated around like the fog. Finally Mike spoke. "Well... You've got to do what you've got to do, Pete."
Peter just looked at Mike for a moment, then nodded. "I... I guess I'd better get home. I've already arranged everything down at the office. I'm not going to be on the next tour, and I'm out of having to do anymore records."
"The whole thing, then?" Davy asked in a tone mixed with desperation and aggitation.
"The whole thing," Peter confirmed with a heavy breath as he stood up. "See you guys." With that, Peter left the house.
Davy spoke as soon as Peter had left. "So what does that mean for us? What are we supposed to do?"
Micky shrugged. "Go on without him I suppose. He doesn't sing that much, we can manage with side performers on the instruments."
Mike finally faced them all. "I going to go to Nashville before we cut the next record. You two can find what you want and we'll put it on the album, but that's what I'm going to do. Go out there and see if I can't find something to move us into a new phase. There has to be something we have left to do."
Davy and Micky just sort of nodded.
"Well I guess I'm going to be going..." Micky said. "I've got to... I've just got to go..."
"Me too," Davy said.
The two left and Mike was alone.
This wasn't an obstacle, it was a challenge, an opportunity. There had to be some unexplored avenue they needed to find. Maybe as individuals, maybe as a group for at least a little while longer. There had to be a niche for the Monkees, collectively or solo, in the world.
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