Miss Americana // The Beatles

Chapter 52

December 26, 1965

Paul and John attempted to make breakfast, but it was a major fail, so we ended up having toast and tea. Now, we were standing out in front of the house. Paul was showing John and I the moped that Jane got him for Christmas. The three of us were standing in our coats in front of the house near the road. Snow flurries were falling from the sky.

"I'll show you how great it is," Paul said, "Then you can have a go, John."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I laughed, "We all know how 'well' he operates a car."

John playfully smacked my arm, leaning down to whisper in my ear, "At least my bedroom skills are better than my motoring skills."

I rolled my eyes and saw Jane smirk out of the corner of them. Paul got onto his moped. I watched as he zoomed up and down the street past us.

As he went past again, he shouted, "Look how fast it can go!"

He was going quite fast down the road. I looked up at John, he was smiling with his mouth slightly agape and quite amused with Paul on his moped. John was so handsome, and I found myself just admiring him on this trip, just feeling thankful that he was with me. In a split second, John's face changed. Tires screeched.

Jane shouted, "Paul!"

I whipped my head to see Paul's scooter laying on the ground and Paul lying face down in the grass. I ran with Jane and John up to him.

"Shit, Paul, you okay?" John asked him, helping him up.

I gasped at his face. His lip was split and blood was pouring from it down his chin and neck.

"Fuck," Paul groaned.

I noticed his front tooth was chipped.

"Paul, let's get you inside," Jane said ushering him toward the front door of the house.

John and I followed them inside. Paul and Jane sat down on the sofa, and John and I went into the kitchen to grab a washcloth and some water to clean up Paul's face. Back in the living room, I tried to clean the blood off of Paul's face, but more kept coming.

"It won't stop bleeding," I said.

Jane was holding his hands, "You may need stitches, Paul."

"No, absolutely not," Paul protested.

"Mate, it's a pretty deep gash," John said from beside me.

"Doesn't our cousin have a friend that's a doctor?" I asked Paul.

Paul rolled his eyes, "I don't think I need stitches, but it's Betty that knows the doctor."

Soon, our dad was calling our cousin Betty to have her and her doctor friend come over. When they arrived, Paul was sitting at the table, the doctor across from him. Jane was behind Paul, holding his hands down by his side. I was standing with John on the other side of the room. The doctor was stitching up Paul's lip with no medication whatsoever. I felt so bad for him. As much as Paul was acting like it wasn't bothering him, tears of pain were streaming down his cheeks. When it was all over, Paul was feeling quite tired and went to his room to take a nap.

"Sasha, I'm going to go back to Mimi's," John said from beside me on the couch, "You can stay and chat with Jane. Remember she's cooking supper again tonight."

I nodded, "Okay, I'll stay here for awhile, then I'll be over."

John kissed me on the lips, lingering as he pulled away and looking into my eyes, "I love you, mama."