Life At The Top: Part Five

LIFE AT THE TOP ***Part 5, the conclusion***

By Stephen Lipscomb




If you haven't read the rest of this story then click here to read Part 1, or click here to read Part 2, or click here to read Part 3, or click here to read Part 4.




Chapter XXI

As I walked into the Kaiserkeller Club, I was taken aback by what I saw. The place was overflowing with people. All of the tables were full, the bar was at least three deep. It seemed that everywhere I stood, I was either in someone's way or wedged uncomfortably against someone else.

The roar of the people talking was almost deafening. Loud and raucous conversation bellowed from every direction. The sound of laughter would erupt from different areas and only the sound of a couple musicians on the stage tuning up pierced the head-pounding drone.

We slowly worked our way through the crowd towards the stage. I managed to get right behind Ringo and watched as the occasional face looked at him in adoring recognition. I imagined that I was following the band to the stage to perform and all of the onlookers were here to see me. It was a brief fantasy only sweetened by the knowledge that the day was soon to come.

The crowd thinned out as we approached the stage. My brief fantasy was rudely interrupted by a rather large fellow that put his hand on my chest. This action stopped me and the others cold.

"That's far enough," He shouted over the noise. "You boys aren't playing here tonight so you have to stand back like the rest of them." He lifted his hand.

Ringo continued on and gave us a quick glance back. "I'll catch you at the break," he said at Paul.

Paul gave him the thumbs up and the rest of us stood there for a while looking at their equipment. They had a really nice PA system with chords strewn everywhere. The stage had been increased in size for the appearance of Rory Storm.

Our envious stares were interrupted at the unsolicited screams of teenage females that erupted behind us. We each looked around until John focused in on the recipient of the adoration.

It was Rory Storm himself. He had made it onto the stage and the girls were going wild. I could see why. He was tall and had flashy blonde hair. His lean, youthful appearance was quite the spectacle. I was envious for a minute but then I remembered the response the Beatles got on the Ed Sullivan Show. I snickered at the sight of the jealous face John had. I could tell it was eating at him. A handful of over zealous ladies made a mad rush to the stage, pushing John to the side. He temporarily lost his footing and almost went to the floor. They were halted in much the same way we were. At the sight of the spectacle, John turned and started making his way back to the bar.

As we fought the onslaught of goggling women, my mind went back to the conversation that had been interrupted a short time before. I felt bad that I had failed to convince John of my sincerity. I knew there was no way to get at him in this environment. Not to mention the blossoming bad mood I could see coming.

John made an inaudible order to the bartender. The bartender then looked at me and I said "Make that two." I looked around to place Paul and George's order. After a brief pan of the audience, I notice that George and Paul had managed to get on stage and were tuning a guitar. By the time I turned around, John pushed a drink in my hand.

"There's one," he said heading off toward and empty table. I followed.

We both sat down and faced the stage. We could see nothing but the buttocks of about 100 women.

"Which one do you want?" I asked with a snicker not looking up.

John had both arms on either side of his drink with one finger in it playing with the ice cube. I could tell he was deep in thought.

"Huh?" he said looking up.

I made a pointing motion with my head.

He turned his look and paused before snickering.

"I'm afraid I'm not much in the mood for any of them. It looks like they are all taken." He downed his drink.

"John. Listen to me." I said with a laugh. "This is nothing! My god! This is the Kaiserkeller with about 100 women going ape. There is going to be a day when you have millions doing that to you." I downed mine. The taste was bitter and I looked at the empty glass not sure of what I had just drank.

"Don't start with that future bull again. I appreciate you trying to get my spirits up. But lets face it. We are playing in a hole and I am not better off than I was a couple years ago. Sure the band is better, but for what I ask you. What is all this work for? We sure as hell are not living the life like that guy. I'd been better of quitting after the Litherland experience." He pointed to Rory and just shook his head in disbelief. The women had started to get in line because he was now giving autographs.

"It's not bull John." I said sternly.

He waved me off with his hand.

"Go get another drink. This round is on you," he said.

I paused trying to search for the words. I could not find them so I stood up and darted over to the bar.

As I stood there waiting for my drink, I scanned the crowd. It seemed that the bartender was taking forever. I turned back and looked at John. He was now tapping his fingers and I could tell he was miserable. I turned back to find out what was taking so long and the bartender was there waiting on me. I handed him some money and took the drinks. I was headed back to the table and I caught a glimpse of a face I recognized. I slowed down and turned my head to see around the couple that had just occluded my sight. I almost dismissed it after the couple chose that particular spot to play tonsil hockey. I started to go about my business when my line of sight cleared and I saw her.

It was the angel. There was no mistake about it. Her hair was a lot shorter than in the tunnel, but it was her nonetheless. I was in shock. Was this a sign? She was just standing there talking to another individual. She did not seem to be looking for me. She glanced my way. I tried desperately to get her attention, but I could not with the drinks in my hands. She resumed her conversation and I lost my opportunity. I started to go lay the drinks down and someone bumped into me. One of the drinks went flying and crashed to the floor. I was surprised that it went totally unnoticed. I walked back to John and laid his drink down. He did not look up. I wondered for a second if anyone could see me.

"John!" I shouted. He looked up startled and almost fell out of his chair.

"Here's your drink," I said in a lower tone. I just smiled. "There's someone over there I have to see. I'll be back in a second."

"Okay!" he said in a loud voice mocking me.

I chuckled and walked away. I went back to the spot I had seen her and she was gone. I circled the bar at least eight times before rushing out side to an empty street. I had missed her. I felt terribly disappointed and confused. Was this a sign that I had gone to far in telling him the future? Was she there to help me? Was my time up? A hundred questions went through my mind as I walked back into the noisy bar. The music was starting and the place was louder than ever.



Chapter XXII

It had been nearly three weeks since I had saw the angel at the Kaiserkeller. Even though I have never considered myself a religious person, I chose to take the sighting as a sign. The next night I chose to believe that the angel was telling me to tread lightly on what I said about the future. Since my attempt to tell John about his future assassin, John had only brought up the subject once, in jest. I managed to laugh away the moment and avoid the whole conversation.

Being forty years old in an twenty year old body led me to some behavior that I knew the others perceived as odd. Eating health food, refusing to do drugs, and having a generally more mature attitude on life were just some of the clues that would give away my true identity. The odds were that John had just chalked the entire story up to another one of my eccentricities.

Since seeing the angel again, I had also chosen to get more serious about my music. It was the reason I was here for, and Paul was starting to ride me again about my abilities. His perfectionism was relentless. I deeply admired it and did my very best to stand up to the challenge. I found myself playing more of a role in their all night practice sessions.

"Time to go," John said as he rose and walked to the tiny stage.

Once again, It was time to start another long set. Fortunately the crowds had picked up. Alan said it was because we were getting better and word was finally getting out. We only hoped that this was true. Rumor had it that Ringo would be paying us a visit tonight as well as a manager for a club called the Top Ten. I was not familiar with this club, but Paul said that it would be a major break if we were to get a gig there.

Taking one last puff of my cigarette, I stubbed it out on the table and walked to the stage. I picked up the bass and carefully touched the strings. The low pulsating response was what I expected and, after a brief adjusting, I was in tune.

Paul glanced over at me and I started my riff to enter the next song. Soon Pete came in, followed by the rest. I could tell we were on tonight. The music was sharp and true. I found myself moving around the stage a little more and enjoying the situation better.

I peeked over my shades and saw that the dance floor was already full. I looked at the others and I could tell that enjoyment has somehow crept into the Indra. I just hoped it would last.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sound. I played a little game and guessed what fret Paul's hand would be holding. I would quickly open my eyes and I guessed it exactly right. I had reached a point where listening to the music was as important as the technical execution of the music. This was the first time I had ever noticed this ability in myself. It was truly enlightening. I tried it again during a chord change and I got it right. I patted myself on the back that I had made major improvement.

I glanced back at the crowd. What I saw threw off my entire concentration. Before I new it, I was fumbling for the chords. A quick glance over at Paul revealed his frowning at me. I stopped playing all together and just moved my hands. We were almost at the end and I knew this little bit would not do too much damage.

It was her again. There she was. Her short, blonde hair curled around her soft white cheeks. Her small frame sat perfectly upright in the bar stool. She had on black pants and a tight tan blouse. It was quite the contract from the white robe I had seen her wear in the tunnel. A rush of worry came over me. I looked around looking for others like her or even the tunnel itself. I took a couple of very deep breaths. Closing my eyes, I slowly collected my thoughts. I knew I was having a good time, but I had not reached self fulfillment. I certainly could not achieve any of my goals on the stage of the Indra Club.

The question of why she was here kept dancing through my thoughts. I stared at her hard and took off my shades completely. I was worried that my peering over those dark glasses would be to obvious. I could tell that other people saw her. This entire situation struck me as very odd. I calmed down a bit and just waited for her to make her move. Whatever it was, I was ready.

She stared at the band, but I could tell that she was not focused on me. A sudden pang of worry crossed my mind as to what this meant.

"Stu!" Paul shouted. "Are you ready?"

I snapped to attention and nodded to Paul. I started another riff and the second song started with not much problem.

I concentrated on my bass, ignoring the audience. The bass part for some of the song was simpler. I chose these times to look directly at her to see what was happening. It was truly odd. She would intermittently look at the band, but spent most of her time talking to a man sitting next to her.

The man next to her was thin and pale. His face was adorned with a thick coat of freckles. I chuckled at the thought that his hair was cut oddly. Now that I notice it, it was cut like the stereotypical Beatles haircut. I quickly looked at all of my musical colleagues and, for the first time, noticed that the group all had different type of haircuts and had not adopted that part of the look that helped to make them famous. This in itself struck me a very peculiar.

My attention quickly turned back to her and her friend. Was this guy and angel as well? Was this guy God? That thought shook me to the inner bone. I then realized that we were at the Indra. This fact alone would give credence to the thought that his identity was the devil. I chuckled at that prospect.

I did my best to look at her for as long as I could without getting myself in trouble on stage. I was able to limp through the second song. The set went on for what seemed to be an eternity before John announce a fifteen minute break.

I could not hop off the stage quick enough. I saw Paul motion for John out of the corner of my eye. I was sure he was going to voice his displeasure with my performance. At this point, I did not care. Something much more important was going to happen, I felt.

I walked in her direction in an attempt to get a better look. I desperately searched for the words I would say when I finally made it to the bar. My stride slowed and I thought better of the entire idea before I reached half way. I tried not to stare, but I could not help myself. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the angel.

She looked in my direction for a short period. I did not want to seem like a creep to her friend, so I chose the nearest table to strike up a conversation. I would peer up at her at every opportunity.

It was not soon before I realized the people sitting at the table I had indiscriminately stopped at did not speak a work of English. I also noticed that a rather burley man was starting to get the impression that I was trying to hit on his girlfriend. Seeing no other option, I decided to leave their company and head for the bar.

As I walked towards the bar, I reassured myself. Why would she be any different? I kept my eyes to the ground. I quickly looked up several times to see if she had turned my way. She was still talking to her friend and had chosen to ignore me all together.

I walked up to the space behind her and ordered more of the green drink that John had introduced me to a few weeks ago.

I stood there and eventually leaned forward against the bar. It was not too long before her friend noticed I was staring and made eye contact. A final attempt to look away before I was caught staring failed. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. I turned away and just stood there. She would certainly know I was standing here now. If she wanted to talk to me she would turn around and say something. After a few moments, I was stiff with excitement and could not bring my head to turn in her direction. I looked desperately for a mirror or reflective surface to see what she was doing without looking at her. There was none within eye sight. I just stood there. After what seemed to be an eternity, the bartender brought me my drink.

I turned to return to the band table so I could regroup and think this thing out. She had not talked to me so I just figured that this should progress however she wanted. I did not have the courage to interfere.

I turned to leave and gave one quick glance up. She was staring at me and her friend was gone. I was frozen looking at her. She had caught my gaze and her deep blue eyes locked me in my place. She had a stern look on her face and then looked away as if she did not know me.

"Hello," I said.

She did not respond. I moved closer and raised my voice. "Hello," I repeated.

She turned around as if startled. "Hey," was all she said. Her beautiful eyes were so bright and blue that the sky paled by comparison. What is wrong with me? No woman has ever made me this nervous. I found my voice and flashed her my patented killer smile.

"How am I doing?" I said after a brief pause.

She turned back at me with an impatient look on her face.

"You'll find the groupies sitting over there," she said pointing to the back of the room behind me. I turned around to see that she was right. I had slept with three of the four women sitting at the table to which she was referring.

"You don't remember me do you?" I said.

She grew more impatient. She looked around to see where her companion had gone. My anxiety grew. I was sure that this was not the angel I saw in the tunnel

"No. Should I?" she said shortly.

"You were in the Kaiserkeller Club a few weeks ago. I saw you there. You looked straight at me." I said. I patted myself on the back for such an incredible save of face.

She paused. "Oh yes. Now I remember. I remember wondering how you see in these places with those dark shades." She nodded down to the sunglasses that were now in my pocket.

"Stuart Sutcliffe, bass player of the Beatles," I said as I extended my hand. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Astrid Kirchherr, photographer. No thanks on the drink," she said ignoring my outstretched hand.

I awkwardly withdrew my hand.

"Ms. Kirchherr, have I done something to offend you?" I said scratching my head with the same hand. I scanned the growing crowd as she formed an answer.

She shook her head and was obviously agitated. She composed herself and softened her tone. "Listen, Stuart. I am sure you and The Rodents have your pick here, but I am just not interested. I am very sorry."

I just tilted my head and gave a mused look. "Ms. Kirchherr, I am afraid you have the wrong opinion of me. I merely approached you because you reminded me of someone I knew. I am sorry to have offended you. You have my sincerest apologies. I will leave you alone." She acknowledged me with a polite smile and I turned to leave. I knew that this would be my one and only chance to meet her and find out what role she would have in my future. The angel certainly did not take her form for nothing.

I took a few steps and quickly turned around and walked back up to her. I was now closer than before.

"One thing before I go. If you don't mind." She have me a paused, expressionless look.

"Are you for hire." I asked.

She looked at me as if she were forming a scream. I realized what I had just said.

"No, No. I mean would you be interested in taking some pictures of our band for promotions." I nodded towards her camera that was laying on the bar.

Her expression relaxed and she gave a small giggle.

"I do offer my services for hire. You don't strike me as a group that can afford it though," She said with a suspicious tone.

I heard George start to tune his guitar. I glanced back and the guys were climbing onto the stage. I noticed that the crowd was getting bigger. I pulled my shades from my pocket.

"Why don't you stick around one more set. I am sure we can work something out." I was interrupted by John belching into the microphone.

I turned back to her. "As you can see, we need all the help we can get in the image department." I put on my shades and jogged back to the stage.

The set finally ended and Astrid was no where to be found. I saw her get up and move about the room about twenty minutes ago, but I lost her in the crowd.

I meandered towards the door and grabbed the handle to open it. As I pulled open the door I saw a dainty hand grasping at the air where the door hand would have been. I quickly looked up and discovered the hand belonged to Astrid. We exchanged glances and she gave me a small smile.

"I thought you had gone." I said.

"No. I was just seeing Klaus to the taxi. He had to go. He has an early morning appointment."

Someone came up behind me and it took me a second to realize I was standing in the doorway. I pointed towards outside and gently took her shoulder as she turned. We walked down the steps to the sidewalk and let the people pass. The air was brisk, but refreshing.

"Are you cold? Do you want to go back inside?" I asked.

"No too cold yet." She said crossing her arms. "So what did your band say?"

"They are all up for it. Paul actually liked the idea," I said. "They want to see some of your work before we settle on a price. Is that okay."

"Certainly," She said quickly.

"Are you free Wednesday?" I asked.

She nodded her head. "Yes I can do that." She reached into her pocket and brought out an Indrid napkin. I could tell she had written something else on it. She scribbled something on it and tore of the corner before handing it to me.

"This is my address. Think you can find it?" She said with an arrogant tone.

"What time?" I asked ignoring the question.

"How is three o'clock." She said with a twisted smile.

"I'll be there," I said as I started to walk back into the bar. She just stood there. I gave a partial wave and examined the note to make sure I could read it before I let her out of my sight.

I felt good about meeting her. Her attitude was a bit harsh, but I could see that a lady like that would have quite the defense mechanism. She probably thought musicians were a dime a dozen, but I felt challenged to win her over.

Another challenge that faced me was to talk the guys into forking over the money that she had written down on the napkin besides her address. I could not bare to tell her that I did not broach the subject with the other guys in the band. The sum she wanted was way more than I had on hand and I knew that it would take a combined effort to pay for these pictures.

As I climbed back on stage, and prepared for the last set of the night, I looked back at the door. She had not followed me back into the bar. I shrugged it off and smirked at the torn napkin before stuffing it into my pocket.

Our music started, but my mind drifted. I tried to come up with some idea of why the angel had chosen to look just like Astrid. Maybe the pictures she takes are what ends up selling the band and gives us the break. Maybe it was a warning to beware of Astrid. My mind floundered over the possibilities. I focused back on the crowd and saw a couple of groupies standing below John. They just gazed up at him as he smiled downward. How about that? While I was away, John found this evening's entertainment for a change.



Chapter XXIII

I had to take a taxi to the part of town where Astrid lived. I was pleasantly surprised to see the area was more suburban than downtown Hamburg. It was nice to get away.

I got out of the taxi and handed the driver some money. A sullen look on the man's face told me that I had not properly figured the tip. He sped away before I could correct the error. I was still used to US currency. The 1960's prices combined with using two different forms of currency gave me fits when it came to computing payments on the fly. I was not very good at it.

As I watched the driver speed off, I pulled the napkin out of my coat pocket. I checked the smudged numbers against the ones on the side of the house hoping that they matched. The numbers matched, so I approached the front porch.

I patted my back pocket to make sure the envelope of money was still there. I was amazed at how easy it was to talk the guys into this idea. Thankfully, none of them saw Astrid. If they had seen her, I am sure they would have thought I was just trying to pay to get in bed with her. She was the finest creature, by far, to have ever graced the Indra.

I climbed the steps and reached for the doorbell. My outstretched finger did not quite make it to the button before I heard the door handle turn. I stepped back as the door flew open.

She was backing out of the door with her arms carrying something. From my vantage, I could not tell what. It was obvious she did not know I was there yet.

I stepped back enough so that she could clear the door jam. It was not until she passed the door and turned that she got her first glimpse. She looked up in a startled gasp and lost her grip on the box. The box tumbled to the wooden floor of the porch. The resulting hollow thud spewed the contents of the box in every direction. She was carrying a box of clothing and now garments lay everywhere but inside the box. I quickly took off my shades incase she did not remember me and gave her a boyish grin.

"Sorry to startle you. I was about..."

"You were about to scare me to death!" she interrupted with a harsh tone. Her pale complexion was flushed and I could tell that her embarrassment was getting the better of her.

"I didn't expect you to come, to be perfectly frank," she said wiping the a slight sweat from her brow.

I pulled out the envelope. "I always do what I say. Otherwise I wouldn't say it."

She reached for the envelope and I pulled it back. "There are a few provisions before I turn this over," I said mockingly.

She put her hand back on her hip and just stood there.

"The guys insisted that I see your work. They would have came, but they had an appointment with a man interested in booking them with another club." I stuffed the envelope back in my pocket. I knelt down and started carefully picking up the garments and folding them. She hesitated and then followed suit. "So is this house yours?" I asked.

"Partly. I live here with some friends and Klaus."

We continued to fold and package the garments.

"Oh yes. The guy in the Indra. Where is Klaus anyway?" I said not looking up at her.

"He is with some friends down the street. He is helping them with some repairs."

I finally looked up at her. She was beautiful. Her bluish eyes had a piercing glow. I thought that I had better watch myself. I felt that I could really fall for a woman like this.

We finished the filling the box and I folded the flaps so they would stay closed. I picked the box up. I was surprise she was attempting to move such a heavy load by herself. "Where do you want these?" I said trying to hide the strain.

She knew it was heavy and chose this opportunity to pick on me. She just stood there and contemplated the question. After a few minutes, my composure started to weaken.

"How about in the trunk," she said a split second before I started to put it down.

I followed her to the car as she dug for the keys in her sweater pocket. By the time I managed to get to the trunk she had it open. I eased the box into the trunk. It was a tight fit, but the trunk top closed with no encumbrances.

"Thanks. Want to come in and see my work?" she said.

I backed up and gestured for her to show the way without saying a word.

We walked into the house and I fell in love. The people who lived here were definitely art lovers. The walls were adorned with all sorts of prints and originals. A good portion of the pictures were black and white photographs. I stopped to study one in particular. It was a self portrait of Astrid. She had photographed her self in the mirror just standing over a camera. The photograph struck me as haunting. At first glance it looked as if she had posed for the picture. As I studied her face, I could tell that she was not concentrating on what she was doing at all. In fact, it looked as if she had just casually snapped off the picture as a test of some sort.

"You didn't take this picture on the purpose of photographing yourself did you?" I said not taking my eyes off the work. After a noticeable pause, I turned to look at her. Her expression was one of bewilderment.

"You are absolutely right. I just snapped that off to test the camera. I can't tell you how many people I have told that to, but you are the first to come to that conclusion on your own. I have underestimated you Mr. Sutcliffe." Her tone had changed considerably.

"You remember my name. I have underestimated you, Ms. Kirchherr." We smiled at each other.

Her eyes studied my face for a moment. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked biting her lip.

"Sure. Whatever you have." I responded. She turned and started to walk away.

"Make yourself at home. I'll be right back," she said echoing down the wooden hall.

I watched her leave the room to what I assumed to be the kitchen. I was really intrigued by this lady. I started to walk around and came upon a room that seemed to be a studio of some sort. The room was well lit and the camera in her self portrait stood on a tripod in the middle of the floor. An assortment of chairs were positioned around the room with no rhyme or reason. More of her work was hanging on the walls, and I took this time alone to study them. It was obvious that I was looking at the work of a very talented person.

She walked into the room and I noticed that her gate slowed considerably once she noticed I was in the studio. I pulled out the envelope and replaced one of the glasses of lemonade with the envelope.

"I've seen enough. You are hired. You are very talented. I am no expert, but I do know enough to see real talent when I see it."

"Do you photograph?" she said in a disbelieving tone.

"No. I paint. I don't think that the principles of painting and photography are that dissimilar. I won an award back at Liverpool Art College. Got a huge some of money for one piece. That's how I ended up in this band." I took a sip of the lemonade not taking my eyes off the picture that hung in front of me.

"Tell me about it. I want to hear how an English art student ends up playing at an old strip club in Germany. You certainly don't sound like you are English either."

"My family is from Scotland. That probably explains it." I said turning towards her.

"You sound more American to me. I would swear you have a hint of a southern draw." She said.

I had to chuckle at that. She was quite an intelligent person. I felt challenged at every level just to keep up with her.

I attempted to change the subject. "Well how is it that you come to speak English so well. This is Germany."

She just shrugged. "It is easier to learn several languages in a place like this. I believe the tourists outnumber us." She pulled up one of the chairs and straddled it with the back of the chair facing me. She stuffed the envelope in her back pocket. I noticed she never counted the money. I pulled up another chair and sat down directly across from her.

She posed as if to ask a question. She hesitated and then started to talk. "Something about you strikes me as very different. You seem mature for your years. You don't seem to be anything like the other in your band. I hope you don't think me too bold, but why do you submit yourself to that type of life?"

I felt comfortable with her and chose to be myself. I leaned forward and placed my drink on the floor. "Astrid," I started. "I know you probably won't believe this, but the Beatles will be very big in a short time. The people in this band are the finest musicians that ever lived. We are just paying our dues right now. Somehow the Indra will play its role in history to change the face of music forever."

"You speak as if it has already happened. I admire your confidence, but I'm afraid I am skeptical." She giggled between sentences.

"I have no proof. Only time will show that I am right. I just have to hang on and hope I can keep up with those guys. I am also hoping that you can help us expedite our rise to the top by giving us some sort of image. Even the other guys know we need help in this area."

"Well I can certainly help. When do you want to start?" she asked.

"We are not off again till next Tuesday. How about then?"

"That will be fine. I know an abandoned business not far from here that will provide a great setting.

I just nodded. "You are the expert. I trust you implicitly." I did a half bow in the chair. She giggled.

"You are very odd Stuart," She added.

"Please call me Stu," I said in a low, sultry tone.

We sat there for a while. Both of us searching for some topic to talk about. I took a few more sips from my lemonade. It was very sour, but I held my grimace in check. I was hoping she did not offer me any more. I looked down at my watch and said, "I don't want to bother you any more. I should be getting back. Good movie playing tonight. I can't understand a word, but it has a lot of frontal nudity." She started to laugh as I rose from my chair.

"How are you getting home." She asked as she stood placing the chair back in its original spot.

"Well I was going to...." I pointed towards the door and hesitated. The taxi was gone, it was too far to walk, and I had not seen a bus since I had been here. I was at a loss for words and realized that she was on to me.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll take you back. Klaus left his keys here."

"Thanks. That would be a big help," I said as I lowered my arm. I followed her out the door and we both climbed in the car.



Chapter XXIV

"Alright guys, no smiling. You want to be rock and rollers or Momma-boys?" Astrid asked peering down into her camera.

We had been at this abandoned truck depot for about three hours and she had all of us in different poses. At no point did she want us to smile. She was going for the serious look. She was very cool and collective the entire time.

I did my best to maintain my composure. I looked at Pete and started to giggle. Something about Pete attempting to look tough sent me into hysterical laughter. Astrid quickly regained my composure by chastising me and threatening to charge more.

We switched positions another time. I was standing next to John now.

"Hesay siay aay Oxfay, ouyay ogday," John said through his teeth with a serious scowl. It took me a minute to decipher his Pig Latin. I muffled a snicker.

"Hanktay ouyay, Ohnjay," Astrid responded without looking up. She chose that exact moment to take the picture. I did not get a glimpse of the embarrassment on John's face, but I am sure it was there because, for the first time of the day, Astrid gave a big smile while she focused for the next shot.

"Okay, a few more and that will be it. I am out of film," Astrid shouted while she picked up her camera and tripod. She walked over to an open grassy area. She called Paul and I over and had us stand at different distances from the camera. She would have us pose with our guitars. A few more clicks and that was it.

"Okay that is it." She said.

John grabbed his guitar and a few props we brought along. He looked up and yelled "Hey, George. Would you and Pete give me hand?"

George and Pete came over and helped him with his load. I walked over to Astrid and helped her pick up her gear. We walked over to her car and started putting it away.

I looked at her while she packed. "There was one more condition to this contract. One more duty you must fulfill."

She stopped packing and looked at me with curiosity.

"You must go out to dinner with me tomorrow night." I hoped I had not been too bold.

She hesitated and said, "Sure. What time?"

I was surprised that she accepted. Without hesitation, I shrugged and said, "I'll pick you up here at seven o'clock and I'll pick the place. Is that okay?"

"Sure. I should have some samples ready by then. You can pick which ones you want," she said closing the trunk.

"I'll see you then." I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Her skin was as soft as it appeared. "Thanks for everything," I said.

We were both embarrassed by the howling of everyone in the Van. John stuck his head out the window and yelled "Stu, we can wait while you shag her. I have three minutes you know." I heard Paul and Pete go into a belly laugh. George just sat there and smiled.

I turned back to her and whispered "Bye. See you tomorrow." Her pale complexion had turned to beet red. "I'm sorry about my friends. They should be out of diapers any day now." She snickered and I broke into a jog to the van. As usual, John started the van and made me run to catch up before they would let me enter. I piled into the passenger seat to the accolade of cat calls and laughter.

John sped off with a huge backfire. I looked back to see Astrid's car start to move before turning around. John just sat there and smiled. He would look over at me with the evilest grin. I turned back to see the other three doing the same.

"No!" I shouted. I paused hoping the subject would change. I looked around again to see that everyone had the same expression. "Well, not yet, at least."

Everyone groaned loudly, voicing their approval. I looked back at John and saw he was still grinning.

John started to giggle. He maintained himself long enough to say "Well you know the future. Tell me when do you shag her?" He started to belly laugh and I thought we might wreck for a second. The others joined in a chorus of laughter. Paul's face was red and he grabbed at his stomach.

I could tell that John had told all of them about my attempt to tell them the future. I waited till the laughter died down. I looked at John with a disapproving scowl and he acted like he was ashamed. He knew that discussion was between him and me.

"Well tell us our future, Stu," Paul said trying to keep his composure. Pete snickered in the back.

John had pushed me into a very awkward situation. I could not very well denounce my proclamation without risking the ability to warn John about his future.

On the other hand, I could not tell them their futures for the obvious reasons. My anger grew as they taunted me with snickers and snide comments.

"I know the future. I don't care if you believe me or not. I don't know Pete's future, but I do for the rest of you," I blurted.

John's expression changed to shaking his head and giving a disapproving frown.

"Prove it," George said from the back.

A chorus of "Yeah," followed.

I hesitated and formed a couple of incomplete sentences before resigning to sit in my seat quietly.

John looked over. "Why are you on that kick. We all know you are a little eccentric, but that is just plain weird."

The anger swelled in me. "Okay, smartass. You want proof."

"Yes," John said in a plain tone. "Either give us proof, or shut up about it."

"You and Paul have been writing some songs together. Isn't that correct?"

John looked in the rearview mirror at Paul and they both nodded. "That's no big secret," John said.

"The music you two write will dominate the American Music charts for most of the sixties."

"Yeah right. We want Proof. Prove it!" Paul said.

"Give me the titles of one or two songs you have been writing," I said looking straight forward.

Silence filled the van as the two thought.

"I don't know. Some aren't even named yet. How about 'She Loves You'. We just finished that last week.

I started to sing. "She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah. She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah. She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah. You think you lost your love. Well I saw her yesterday. It's you she's thinking of, and she told me what to say."

George started to laugh. "You sing like a hound. I haven't heard them write anything like that." He continued to snicker.

I looked at Paul and he the look of astonishment dominated his face. I was thrown against the dash as John slammed on the brakes and pulled over. He cut off the engine.

"What's the matter," George said.

John and Paul just stared at me as I climbed out of the floorboard. "We just finished writing that song. It was a fluke. We almost threw it away."

I sat back in my seat. "I wouldn't do that. It sold millions of copies. That song alone makes everyone here a millionaire in less than two years from now."

"This is rubbish." John said loudly. "Lets try another. Let me think of one you couldn't know. How about 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'?"

I started to sing again. "Oh, yeah, I tell you something. I think you'll understand. When I say that something. I want to hold you hand. I want to hold you hand. I want to hold you hand."

Once again, I got the 'deer in the headlight stare.' I now had Pete and George sitting forward and nobody was complaining about my singing voice.

"'Please Please Me'," John said quickly.

"Last night I said these words to my girl. I know you never even try girl. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Please, Please me like I please you."

"This is incredible," Paul said. "Let me name one? 'Love Me Do' is a song I just started writing."

I interrupted him. "Starts out with John playing a harmonica." I hummed the harmonica melody. "Love, Love me do. You know I love you. I'll always be true. So please. Love me do. Repeat again. Change in song rhythm. Someone to love. Someone like you. Someone to love. Someone like you. Kind of a simple song but that will be your first big hit."

"I hadn't thought of the harmonica introduction." Paul said staring straight at my face.

John shushed Paul and started the van. He put the van in gear and quickly accelerated through the gears in obvious agitation.

"So what is this all about. How do you know these things?" George asked.

"I don't want to discuss this further," John said angrily. Everyone sat in silence as John sped down the winding road. I felt as if I should say something, but I knew John's moods and decided better of it.

It did not take long to get back into town and John pulled into his usual parking space about a block from the Indra. John cut the car off and calmly pulled up the emergency brake as the others started to pile out. George and Pete darted down the street towards the theater. If they had the same thing in mind that I did, they were searching for a bathroom. We had been taking pictures for quite a while and none of us had the courage to go off into the woods with Astrid around.

I opened the door and started to lean out. John grabbed me by the back of my collar and restrained my movement. The top button caught my adam's apple and I gave a small gag. I backed into the chair, leaving the door open. I looked at him with surprise. He just sat there with a solemn grimace. A quick glance over my left shoulder revealed that Paul had not moved from his seat. Paul's expression was one more of curiosity.

I sat there a moment with both of the staring at me. "So now what? You don't believe me? You want some more proof?" I said breaking the silence.

John took off his glasses and looked down. He calmly said, "Stu don't give me that shit about being from the future. You and I both know that you have been going through my stuff. I would have never figured you for a snoop! What is this game you are playing. This is not like you at all!"

I did not know how to answer. I had not anticipated his jumping to that conclusion.

"Sometimes John you just have to take a leap of faith," I said mirroring his tone. "I didn't snoop in anything. I am telling the truth."

John's face hardened and started to change color. Paul and I could both tell he was about to go into a fit.

"Wait a minute John." Paul interjected as John was starting to form the words with his mouth. "I never wrote anything down about 'Love Me Do'. How could he have known that. He wasn't around two nights ago when I started singing it." Paul paused as John considered the situation. "I don't believe for a minute he is from the future, but something about this strikes me as damn strange."

"You know I don't ever remember telling either of you that I played the harmonica. That is very odd."

"My first day in your time was the day you and your two buddies stole my wallet. Do you remember?" I pointed at John.

He slightly shook his head and then recollected.

I continued to point at him and asked, "Do you remember anything odd about me?"

A faint smile ran across John's face. "I remember you were covered in mud and soaked. You laid there for the longest time before we even realized you were alive. Scared us to death when you came up gasping like you did." He gave a short laugh and then looked embarrassed. "You know, now that you mention it, this might explain something that I kept all this time that has really had me confused." John bent over and had most of his upper torso between his legs digging under the seat for something. "Pete actually found this laying in the mud next to you before you came around. He threw it away, but I kept it. I have been just to ashamed to show it to you until now," he said in a muffled voice. A constant clanging emanated from beneath the seat. He finally came up. He face was red and he was out of breath. What he held up almost put me into shock. "This is the reason I came up with Silver Beetles. Remember when I told you about the little guy on the flaming pie in my dream? The one who told me to add an 'A' to Beetles. Well, in my dream, he was standing on this. This gave me the idea. What the bloody hell is this anyway?"

He was holding my Beatles CD that was in the player I had on the day I died. I had assumed that it had been lost in the river. I was wrong. I sat there in disbelief. What were the odds that the first person to see me when I went back in time would be the same person who was responsible for the CD that I had on my person. My mouth fumbled for the words as John and Paul examined the small disk.

"It is a CD." I finally said. My fate was now sealed. I had to tell each of them everything. It is the only thing that would make the story believable. I had to make the story believable. Otherwise, John's life was in danger. I took the disk from John.

Fortunately, the disk was worn. It had been my favorite. It was their first album. The only thing legible on the CD was the faded name and a couple of the songs on the bottom.

"What is a CD?" Paul asked.

"In the future, this little disk is used to record music," I said confidently. The two of them looked at me in an almost believing manner. They finally turned to each other and broke into laughter. "Yeah right! How do you record something on that. It is too small and there are no grooves." John said with an indignant tone.

"It is the latest technology. This disk used microscopic holes, not grooves to record music." I now had the two of them looking at it closer than ever.

"See the name. That is your band. You didn't name the band after the CD, the CD was named after you band! That is your first album. It will be out in a couple of years and it makes all of you very rich and famous. You are going to be the most successful band in history and will keep records past the year 2000." They looked at me in disbelief and I could tell that I was finally starting to get through.

"If this is true. Why didn't you tell me this a long time ago. Why did you let yourself get clobbered at Litherland?" John asked.

"Good question," I said with a calm tone. "Consider this. Please assume that I am telling you the absolute truth and put yourself in my shoes. Would you run the risk of telling famous people their fate before they become famous. If you do, don't you run the risk of changing history and ruining their destined future. If you two knew, I mean absolutely knew, you were going to be millionaires in a few years, would you work as hard at your trade as you do now? I couldn't take that risk. You two are so close to being big now, it really doesn't matter what I do."

Paul took the CD and sat back spinning it between his fingers. "Wow," he said under his breath. "This is really far out. I can't bring myself to believe it, but I can't ignore it. Your story makes sense. How else could this stuff be explained?"

John just sat there and scratched his chin.

"What do you guys want to know. It is the least I can do for you. You have let me live a fantasy to end all fantasies. I have played with the Beatles. You will never know what that means to someone like me from my time."

"What happens to Pete?" John interrupted. He looked up at me. "You said you know all of our fates except Pete's. Why?"

"I don't know all the answers. I just know he doesn't make the final cut. Ringo Starr becomes your drummer in a very short time from now. A big improvement I must add," I replied.

The two shook their heads in agreement.

"You were about to tell me something important about the future when we were interrupted a few months ago. What was that about?" John asked.

My enthusiasm dropped. In the excitement, I had forgotten about it. I dropped my head. "I don't know how to tell you this, but I have to. Now John remember this. Nothing I am telling you is in stone. You control your fate. I only know the fate that occurs without my intervention." I hesitated and took a deep breath. "The Beatles break up in the early 1970s. You meet the love of you life and move to New York. On December 8th 1980, you are shot in front of the Dakota Building in New York. I believe the man's name is Chapman. He is some sort of a lunatic fan of the Beatles."

"Do I die?" John asked with a cavalier laugh.

"Yes," I said soberly looking out the windshield. I could not bring myself to look at him.

John paused and acted as if he did not know how to handle that answer. He finally answered. "Well I will have to make arrangement to be somewhere else that day." John looked at Paul and snickered. I failed to see the humor, but then again it was quite a long ways in the future.

"This is fun. What happens to me?" Paul said sitting forward.

"I don't want to say any more." I started to get out of the van. I really had to go to the bathroom. "I have to go drain the vein right now," I said as I shut the van door. John stuck his head out of my door and Paul got out.

"Come on. Don't leave me hanging like that," Paul said.

I started to slowly walk away backwards. "Listen to me. John you have to be warned about Mr. Chapman. The rest of the fate is up to you. I can't do it for you and the more I tell you, the harder I am going to make it for you." The urge was really getting to me so I turned and ran towards the theater. Paul was following me stride for stride. He yelled out all sorts of questions, but I did not have the inclination to stop and pursue the conversation.



Chapter XXV

"Where the hell is it?" I muttered to myself in the darkness. I gave thought to the possibility that I had spoken too loudly and turned to see if I had awoken Astrid. I could see by the moonlight shining through the window that she was still sleeping quietly. She laid there motionless. If I had not seen it before, I would swear that she did not breathe while sleeping. She had an interesting habit of not using a pillow. She would always just center herself in the middle of the bed and sprawl out on her stomach with her arms extended in both directions.

I stopped what I was doing and walked over to pull the covers over her naked body. I tucked the covers up over her shoulders and reached for the small flashlight that we had kept on the headboard since I moved in several months ago. I gave her a light peck on the cheek and went back to what I was doing.

I kneeled down once again. The wooden floor was cold against my bare knees. I pulled the box Ms. Sutcliffe had sent me out into the center of the floor so that I could empty the contents. I steadily pulled Clothes, books, and paint supplies out of the box. "I specifically told her to send everything I left behind," I whispered to myself. In frustration, I packed the box back and pulled out the second box that I had received earlier today. I carefully pulled back the tape from the corners slowly. The sound was horribly loud, but it did not seem to disturb Astrid. A quick rip generated a piercing noise, but freed both of the top flaps. I quickly pushed them to the side and stuck my hand down into the box feeling for anything that wasn't made of material. My hand formed the stiff corner of something hard on the very top of the box. I pulled it out and shined the flashlight at it. It was a record. A small forty five to be more precise. It was new and still in it white cover. I pulled it out and the front of it read 'Love Me Do', the Beatles' first record.

This was the beginning. The Beatles had just generated their first big hit. 'Love Me Do' was the talk of the town and everyone was wanting to see who these new rock and rollers were.

For a moment, I questioned the sanity of my decision to leave the Beatles and go back to Art School here in Hamburg with Astrid. I shook my head thinking about what I could be enjoying right now. As if on queue, Astrid rolled over with her usual sigh. The sound quickly erased any doubt. I turned and looked at her to see if I had awoken her. She laid there still. Now she was on her back and had kicked the covers to the side. I looked back at the record and put it on the desk under the window. I thought to myself that Astrid will get a kick out of seeing it tomorrow.

I was full of the satisfaction that I had made the right decision. The angel told me to achieve self-fulfillment, and I had certainly achieved that here with her. I could not remember being this happy. The fame and fortune would have had it advantages, but I knew from my history, that this also takes a toll on those four young men. I found it hard to believe that in less than eight years John, Paul, George, and Ringo would not be able to stand each other and force the inevitable split of the band. I also was not sure what would have happened if I had stayed. Paul was certainly the better bass player and I could not add anything to the music that they were producing at this time. It was better this way.

I dug deeper into the box diverting my attention to my search before any more doubt came back. After tossing a few clothes items onto the floor, I found the object of my search, my portable CD player. I knew it was in pieces so I pulled it out gingerly. I was careful not to let any of the plastic pieces fall on the wooden floor. This would certainly awake Astrid and I would have to explain what I was doing. I did not want to lie to her. I had not mentioned anything about my previous identity at this point and I certainly was not going to now.

I collected everything that resembled parts from the CD player and put them into a baseball cap. I rose to my feat and walked gingerly to the bathroom, cradling the pieces in my arms as I tiptoed across the cold, wooden floor. I shut the door and snapped on the lights. After a few moments, my eyes adjusted and I started to take inventory.

During my first day at Liverpool, I had come to the conclusion that the CD Player was wasted and in ruin, but something made me keep it. As I arranged the pieces, I hoped I had jumped to the wrong conclusion. I pulled all of the pieces out to see what they were. There were five pieces of clear plastic of various sizes and a screw with a piece of red plastic still attached on it. I could see that the plastic on the screw matched the case and had been chipped off the corner. I hoped this would not directly affect the operation and set it aside. The remainder of the pieces made up what used to be the clear CD door that shut down over the CD. I arrange the pieces on the back of the toilet and moved them around until they were properly arranged. I could see the hinges were missing on both sides. "Damn!" I said out loud. Maybe the player will work without a door. I didn't remember the door actually engaging anything when I used it before. It used to, more or less, just flap down after you inserted the CD. A ray of hope grew in me. I held the case up to the light and looked for any more damage. A gentle shake and rolling it around revealed that nothing else was loose. I pushed the Play Button to see if the motor engaged. Nothing happened. The batteries were clearly dead. I snapped open a small compartment and pulled out a chord that stowed away in the back of it. "Fortunately this model came with an electric adapter built in," I said arrogantly. I pulled the chord out with my right hand and held it. I plugged it into an adapter that I had bought earlier today. I was tight, but it fit. I pressed the play and, sure enough, the hub began to turn. I turned it off and quickly snapped off the light. I swung open the door and fumbled through the darkness. Walking in the direction of the bed, I stubbed my knee on the side of the end table. It only hurt for an instant. I knelt down and pulled out the Beatles CD from under some magazines I had stored. I quickly rose and darted back into the bathroom.

Flipping on the light, I was trembling in anticipation that this might indeed work. I put the cd on the hub, checked the center, and pressed play. The CD started to spin, but there was no sound. It took me a moment to realize that the earphones were strapped to the case but not plugged into the jack. I slipped the plug in with fumbling fingers and the Beatles sound blared through the tiny earphones. Frightened that I might awaken Astrid, I shoved the volume down. I paused for a moment to see if I could hear any stirring. I did not. Picking up the headphones, I gently turned up the volume while I put them over my ears. The sound was crystal clear.

Now there would be no doubt. If this did not save John's life, nothing would. "If he doesn't believe me after this, I will shoot him myself," I said. I chuckled at the thought. I turned the CD off and put the contents back in to the ball cap. I was flying high at the thought that I was now going to save my best friends life.

John had believed me for a while. When I refused to answer any more questions, the doubt set in again. I think Paul and he thought that I had learned some sort of new mind game. Not feeling like they wanted to be the butt of a joke, they got to the point where they dismissed anything I said about the future. It became quite frustrating. This would show them. There could be no doubt now.

I eased myself into bed and Astrid never moved. She was certainly the sound sleeper. I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. As I had done each night since I moved in, I whispered an unanswered 'I love you' in her ear before returning to my pillow.

I could not sleep. The anticipation of seeing the band tomorrow was too much. The were coming in on the train tomorrow morning to start their next Hamburg tour. Astrid and I were to meet them early the morning. It was more than I could stand. "I am sure that they won't be playing at the Indrid this time," I whispered aloud. I put the pillow over my face to muffle the snicker.

I tossed and turned a few times trying to find sleep in the soft linen that surrounded me. After an hour of this, I resigned myself to just laying there and pondering the events of my life. I wondered, as I often did, how Bob and Mom faired after my death. Certainly Mom would not have lasted long after my departure. If this were true, then Bob would surely end up with the entire property. I shuddered at the thought of how Bob would have handled such responsibility. The concept was so uncomfortable that I rolled over in an effort to get my mind off such a scenario. I was now facing Astrid. Her face was even with mine and I could feel the gentle puff of breath bounce warmly off my face. She let out a soft groan and I looked more closely. I could see her eyes dancing behind her eyelids. She was dreaming. Her breath became more ragged and a few more low groans slowly bellowed out. I looked at her in deep admiration. She was truly a work of art. She was everything I could have ever hoped for in a companion. Her artistic talent was unmatchable. She put such great taste into her work. She had forever touched my art and my work was all the better. I just wished she could have met Mom. I gently stroked her hair. A sleepy feeling finally overcame me as I lay there and watched my Astrid.

I do not know how long I had been asleep. I was awoken to the sound of a low hum. At first I thought it was the air conditioner and I tried to go back to sleep. I then realized that Astrid had no air conditioner in her house and I began to fight my way to total consciousness.

I raised my head up and rubbed my eyes. Something was different. It was more than the sound. The bed was cold and hard. I reached out in the darkness to feel for Astrid. She was not there. "Astrid? Astrid? Astrid are you there?" I said in increasing volume. I looked around the room as my eyes struggled to adjust. It was then that it hit me. I was no longer in the room. I was laying on a cold concrete floor of a very dimly lit room. I sprang to my feet. A quick inventory showed that I was totally in tact. I stood there in my boxer shorts and shirt just as I had gone to bed.

"What the hell...." I started to say when it hit me. The room. The sound. It was the same as it was before I was sent to Liverpool. The sound grew in intensity. It was close. I got the feeling that someone had walked up behind me and I spun, almost loosing my footing. My eyes focused in on a large figure. A large circular figure. I paused in horror for a second and fell to the ground sobbing. "No. No. No!" I screamed. It was the tunnel.

"Damn you to hell! God Damn you to hell!" I screamed at it shaking my fist. My head burned with anger. "You are not going to get me! It was working out!"

Not thinking I sprang to my feet and sprinted away from the tunnel. I occasionally looked behind me to see if the tunnel was moving. It was not. I was in an all out sprint and this body of a twenty year old was really moving. Just as before, I could only see mist and had limited vision before me. I must have ran for twenty minutes before I started to feel a cramp in my side. I looked back over my shoulder and held my ribs as I slowed. I finally stopped. In between deep breaths, I would stop breathing to listen for the tunnel. I could hear nothing. After a few minutes, I had collected myself to ease the cramp and stand up straight. It was at this particular time the tunnel appeared right in front of me. This time there was not warning of sound. I could almost swear I did not hear it until after I saw it. I took off running in another direction. I took a long protracted look back as I sprinted as fast as I could away from the tunnel. It remained stationary. As I turned my head back to see where I was going, something caught my eye and I realized I was about to run smack into something. I just have enough time to react enough to divert my momentum and go sprawling on the hard floor. A dull thud sent shocking pain through my right knee. I sat there holding my knee and writhing in pain. The pain started to subside as I massaged both sides of my knee. I noticed something peculiar about the back of my hands. They didn't look the same. A sudden uncomfortable feeling in my shorts distracted my attention. I stood up to adjust my boxers. I looked down and noticed that the once baggy boxers, now were pulled tight against my thighs. It then dawned on me. I reached for my head with both hands. I felt soft smooth skin where once was a full crop of youthful hair. It was true. I was back to being Victor Walsh. I held onto the top of my head and once again fell to my knees sobbing.

I remained in a kneeling position for quite some time before I slowly slid my hands down the sides of my face. I collected myself and started to logically look at the situation. At this point, I knew I did not have a choice in the matter. I delayed for a good ten minutes before I rose and collected myself.

The tunnel sat there unwavering. It almost seemed arrogant. The low hum seemed like a roar now and the tunnel seemed to glow more than it did before. "Okay. You win. I hope you got your kick out of that. If heaven is full of angels like you, I want to see Satan right now!" I stepped up and into the tunnel and had to give a tearful chuckle at how my last sentence must have sounded.

I started to walk in and noticed a different tunnel all together. I wiped the tears from my face and squinted before I was going to proceed. The light was not nearly as far as it was before. It seemed to be less than fifty yards this time. The tunnel glowed a brighter shade of white and the sides of the tunnel where virtually wallpapered with images from my past. I walked slowly and did my best to examine each one. There were the old images from Victor Walshes past that I had seen before. In addition, there were just a many images from Stuart Sutcliffes past. I saw the Quarrymen playing at what looked to be the Litherland Town Hall. I saw Chrissy and Cheryl. I saw Astrid and me kissing for the first time. The images lined the entire tunnel from top to bottom. I looked at every image until I was about ten yards from the light. I stopped and took a couple of collective breaths before I spoke.

"Okay Alex, I'll take 'What the hell is going on' for one thousand." I hoped a little levity would be appreciated. I heard no response. "Are you there. I'd call your name, but you didn't tell it to me. I'd appreciate it if you would come out here and tell me why in the hell you took me away from a dream come true." My resentment was growing.

The light seemed to change hue as if someone or something walked in front of it. I could not really tell. It was too bright to look directly into it. I got a little spooked and chose to back up a little.

"Don't be afraid. It is just me," a familiar voice said. The dark silhouette came into focus as it approached me. It was her. She still had the form of Astrid. At first, I smiled as a reflex. I then remembered that this was not Astrid and my face went back to a stern, stoic expression.

"You are upset," she said as she walked right up to me. I backed off a little.

"You are damn right! I have the right to be. I found the woman of my dreams and you took me away for no good reason!" I said thrusting my finger to the ground on each word. I was very agitated.

"We have very good reasons. Just because you can't understand them at this point, doesn't make them bad." Her expression was emotionless. Her frankness caught me off guard.

"Well can I ask some questions?" I said.

"Anything," she said.

I struggled to find which question I was going to ask first. I stuttered. She looked amused. "For one thing, why did you take this form?"

Her expression did not change again. "You have already surmised the reason. I took this form to attract your attention to what would be the instrument of your realizing your goal."

"My goal?" I asked.

"To achieve self fulfillment. That was the reason you were sent back, was it not?" Her calculated attitude was starting to put me on edge.

"It was," I said tentatively.

"Did you realize it?"

I hesitated. I could see where this was going. "Well yes I did for the short term. My long term goal was much more important however."

Her expression finally softened. "Victor. You were not sent back to live another life. You were sent back to gain knowledge from the greatest teacher man has ever known. The name of that teacher is experience. May I ask you some questions?"

I was completely out of sorts by now. "Sure," I stammered.

"When you first found out you were 18 again and good looking, what was your first objective?"

I searched for the answer. I was not sure what she wanted.

"You wanted to get laid," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Well," I paused. "Yes, I guess you were right."

"Did that lead to self fulfillment?" she added.

"No. It was quite the opposite to be honest. It was great at first. I mean you should have seen Tina. I mean she was...." I then remembered who I was talking to and did not figure that was the proper subject for someone trying to get into heaven. She smiled and giggled a little.

"When you found out about the Beatles, you were just concerned with fame and wealth. You didn't find true fulfillment until you got to know John Lennon. You called him your best friend in several prayers. This is the first best friend you have had in your adult life."

I interrupted. "You have studied me well. That is for certain."

"The same logic applies to the best thing that has ever happened to you, Astrid. All of these events that you deem valuable just happened, more or less. On the other hand, everything you have striven for in the materialistic side left you feeling empty. Do you see what the real lesson is?" she asked.

"Money can't buy me love. Is that what this is all about?"

She shook her head. She looked disappointed in me. "No. The lesson is more than this. You had everything as Victor Walsh you needed to achieved self fulfillment. We just set up the conditions so that you could realize that the important things in life are not the path you take. The important things are the people that you meet during the journey. Nothing else matters beyond this light." She pointed behind her. I looked up at the light.

"If the people I meet are so important, then how can you justify taking me away from them at such a time. They need me. Do you realize what you have done?" She hesitated for just a second as if silently formulating the answer.

"I know you are concerned for Astrid's well being, but you must remember this is the past. Astrid is destine for some very great achievements. She influences some people who make major contributions to the human culture. Just as you surmised with the Beatles, you posed a real threat to interfering with that accomplishment."

I turned and paced. If what she said was true, then taking me away was the right thing to do.

I turned quickly and walked right up to her face to face. She did not flinch. "Then how the hell does taking me away help John. I don't think I got through to him. You know what happens to him. I must be allowed to stop that. I must!" I said in a low hateful voice.

"No, you must not. This is the absolute reason you can't be allowed to continue. We gave you more time than you needed to fulfill your destiny, but we had to stop you before you played the CD. Otherwise you would have precluded John from fulfilling his. I know you won't understand, but John's death is necessary for the greater scheme of things."

I turned again in disbelief. "How in the hell does letting a psycho shoot that fine man to death serve anybody? I can't buy that," I said smacking myself on the forehead. "Either explain this to me right now, or forget it. You will have to drag me into that light. I don't want any part of it!" I was boiling mad.

For the first time, she didn't say anything. She just stood there. She eventually started to giggle and then broke into a small laugh. It was at this point I notice her face start to change. At first, I thought her expression was changing while she laughed. It was quite the odd sight. But it wasn't her expression changing, it was her face. Her eyes started to shift and her face drew longer. Her hair went several shades darker and lengthened a bit. The sight startled me and I slowly backup up a couple of steps. She maintained the laugh. It wasn't a maniacal laugh, it was more of the laugh when one would pull a practical joke on someone. The laugh grew deeper in tone and I observed her face continued to contort before her entire body morphed its shape into a more taller and slender figure. The change finally stopped and I was now looking at a familiar figure. My mind struggled to accept what I was looking at. I finally came to my senses when I noticed that she, I mean he, was laughing hysterically.

It was John Lennon. I shook my head in disbelief. It wasn't the youthful John Lennon that I had just left. It was the familiar, older John Lennon. He stood there trying to regain his composure, and he combed his long out of his blushed face. He reached into a breast pocket and pulled out the familiar small glasses and placed them on his nose.

"You should have seen your face," he said.

I just stood there. I noticed that my mouth was wide open and I struggled to get my composure back. "What in the hell is going on here John. Has the angel been you all along?"

He nodded and started to snicker. "Yeah. Pretty good gag wasn't it."

"I gather you must not have heeded my warning, otherwise you wouldn't be here. I'm sorry I failed to convince you."

He took on a more serious look. "Stu... I mean Victor. Don't beat yourself up about it. It worked out for the better. It was my time. You will understand that once you cross over. You have been conditioned to think that death is such a bad thing. You will find that your traditional religions had distorted the true message over the years."

I resigned to the fact that my understanding of what was going on would never be fulfilled on this side of the light. I came to the conclusion that a human being can only understand to a certain point at this level of consciousness. I thought that it would be like trying to describe sight to a person that was born blind. One had to experience some things to understand them.

"Why me? Why did you pick me, John?" I said walking towards him.

He put his arm around me and turned as we both headed for the light.

"Because I like the way you sing," he said with a loud, explosive laugh.

We walked towards the light and he held my shoulder. I was comforted by him and not scared at all. A sense of curiosity overcame me.

John leaned his head towards my ear. "Wait to you see this band I've got in here. If I can get Elvis off the microphone, I'm sure we can make it really big." We both snickered as the light enveloped us.



The End




Copyright by Stephen Lipscomb

Stephen Lipscomb is 35 and lives in Virginia with his wife and daughter. Stephen is a Computer Scientist with a Bachelor of Science Degree. He has written his own instructional booklet on running a lawn service. Stephen is currently branching out to writing in the fiction/adventure genre.

Stephen can be e-mailed at: slipscomb@logicon.com



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