The Monkees: Gold Rush

Here We Come...

It was a humid day in a Californian mining town. A wagon train had just rolled in. In large black letters 'California or Bust' was written on the side of a few of the wagons. A guitar could be heard faintly on the wind.
The guitar stopped as three young men clambered out of the back of one of the wagons. The tallest of the three had sort of long-ish black hair with a wool hat perched on the top of his head. He was holding a guitar in his hands.
"We finally made it boys!" He exclaimed. His accent was unmistakeably Texan, but it wasn't a very thick accent.
The other two boys cheered. One of the boys was very short, and the other was only a few inches shorter than his Texan friend. The short boy had long-ish brown hair and brown eyes. He was attractive, but he looked very young because of his height. The other boy had long-ish blonde hair and brown eyes.
People from the wagon train now began to break apart and go in different directions. The boy's wagon stayed where it was as they looked around, taking in everything. It had been a very long ride, but they knew it was worth it. They would make it rich here.
The boys decided to go get some food with what little money they had left. It had taken a lot to get California. At first it was just the shortest boy, Davy Jones, trying to get to California from New England. Then he picked up the blonde haired boy, Peter Tork, as he passed through the country's capital. Then finally, they picked up the tallest boy, Mike Nesmith, in Texas as they passed through.
The boys entered a small saloon. There weren't a lot of people in the saloon, but it was actually doing very well since the gold rush. The boys walked up to the bar. Mike ordered some whiskey. He still had his guitar with him.
"Do you know how to play that?" A lady asked. She was a dancing girl in a pink and black dress. She was very pretty with red-blonde hair that she had half up and half down and pretty blue eyes.
Mike smiled and began to strum the guitar quickly. The dancing girl smiled. "What's your name, miss?" Mike asked still strumming along.
The dancing girl laughed slightly. "My name's Calphurnia, and I don't know if I'm worthy of a miss," She said.
"Isn't that the name of Caesar's wife in Shakespeare's Tragedy of Julius Caesar?" Davy asked.
Calphurnia laughed again. "I wouldn't know, I've never read it," She said.
Davy nodded.
"Hey, you're from England aren't you?" Calphurnia asked smiling.
Davy smiled. "Yes, I am," He said.
"What are you doin' all the way out here?" She asked.
"I was visiting a relative in Massachusetts and I heard about this gold rush, and I fancied I'd get rich off the gold," Davy said.
Calphurnia nodded. She looked over at Peter who had been silent this whole time.
"You here for the same reason?" She asked.
Peter looked over at her. He shook his head. Calphurnia smiled at him. "Then why'd you come to California?" She asked.
"To play music," Peter said quietly.
"Oh, you're a musician?" Calphurnia asked.
Peter nodded.
"What do you play?" Calphurnia asked.
"A lot of different instruments," Peter said.
"The wagon's filled with them," Mike said. "There was hardly space to move."
The bar tender slid over towards them. "We need a good pianist here. You know how to play one?" He asked.
Peter nodded.
"We've got sheet music on the piano over there. You can play it then you're hired," The bar tender said.
Peter walked over to the piano and started to play the music. The bar tender nodded. "That's mighty fine," He said. "You've got a job here."
"Thank you," Peter said still playing the piano.
"Good, one of us needs steady work," Mike said. "I guess we can't all be mining for gold all the time."
"If your two friends can play instruments what do you do?" Calphurnia asked Davy in a sort of teasing manner.
"I can sing..." Davy said indignantly.
Calphurnia laughed. "You three are a regular traveling band," She said.
Mike smiled. "I suppose we are," He said. The bar tender refilled Mike's glass.
The door of the saloon swung open. A young man with curly brown hair and brown eyes walked in. Calphurnia smiled at him. "Hey there!" She said waving at him.
The curly headed youth smiled at Calphurnia. "Hey, Cal," He said.
Calphurnia laughed. "Micky Dolenz, what have I said about calling me Cal?" She scolded jokingly.
Micky winked at her. "Only when we're alone," He said.
Calphurnia laughed again. Micky walked over towards her. "So, who are these guys?" He asked pointing at Mike and Davy.
Mike looked up at Micky from where he was sitting. He unconsciously began to strum the guitar. "I'm Mike Nesmith," He said, "and that's Davy Jones." Mike pointed at Davy.
"And I'm Peter Tork!" Peter said from the piano still playing.
"You come looking for gold?" Micky asked smiling.
Davy nodded.
"Well there's plenty. The streams are overflowing with it!" Micky said. "All you do is put a pan in the water and you're sure to find some."
"We'll remember that," Mike said slowly in a guarded manner as if he suspected Micky of some sort of trickery.
Micky didn't seem to notice. "I'll buy a bottle of whiskey," He said plopping a large silver coin on the bar. The bar tender took the coin and handed Mickey his whiskey and two cups. Mickey sat at one of the round tables with checker-print tablecloths. He waved his hand at Calphurnia as a silent way of asking her to sit with him. Calphurnia took the seat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Micky poured her a glass of whiskey and himself one as well.
Calphurnia sipped glass daintily. Micky and Calphurnia began to flirt. Micky came in often to see Calphurnia and only Calphurnia. Yeah, the other dancing girls were just as pretty, but Micky not-so-secretly had a crush on her. She was special...
Micky wasn't a prospector. He had been working with the circus that would periodically come through this town until a few weeks ago when he decided to open a small general store in the middle of town. The store was doing fine and Micky was finding himself a very wealthy man.
"Micky, can you sing something?" Calphurnia asked.
Micky smiled at her. "Of course? What do you want me to sing?" He asked.
Peter was still on the piano. "Can you play Greensleeves?" Calphurnia asked.
Micky walked over to the piano. Peter began to play Greensleeves.
"Alas my love..." Micky started.
"No, I changed my mind, something faster," Calphurnia said.
Micky laughed. "What do you want me to sing?" He asked.
"I don't know," Calphurnia said.
Peter began to play a tune none of them had ever heard before. Micky laughed. It was very upbeat and fun.
"What's this song?" Calphurnia asked.
"Auntie Grizelda," Peter said.
"Does it have words?" Micky asked.
Peter nodded.
"Can you sing them for us?" Calphurnia asked.
Peter kept playing. "She knows her mind all right, your Auntie Grizelda,
She says she knows my kind, she might, maybe so.
Oh, yeah, she's raised you right, your Auntie Grizelda,
You only know the things she wants you to know..." Peter started singing.
Just as he got ready to sing more a man walked in, swinging the saloon doors hard and making them slam onto the wall. There was something dangerous about him. He had a limp. He walked slowly to the bar and sat on a stool. "I'd like a bottle of whiskey," He said quietly.
"Alright, Vincent," The bar tender said.
"I see you've hired someone for the piano," Vincent said.
"Yeah, just today," The bar tender said giving Vincent the bottle of whiskey.
Vincent turned towards Peter. "Would you play something?" He asked.
Peter nodded and began to play Greensleeves again. Vincent nodded his head to the music. "It's so much nicer in here with music," He said.
Calphurnia smiled at Micky and stood up and sat next to Vincent. "Nice to see you again, Gene," She said.
Vincent smiled at her. "Cal," He said.
"How's Jackie doing?" Calphurnia asked.
"Pretty good," Vincent said.
Calphurnia smiled and nodded. "Are you going to pour me a drink?" She asked.
Vincent shook his head. "I'll be needing it for my leg," He said.
Calphurnia smiled at him. "Does it still hurt?" She asked.
"Ever since..." Vincent started then grew silent. He shook his head slowly. "Yeah, it still hurts."
The bar was silent. Mike noticed the badge pinned to Vincent's shirt. It read deputy.
"Who's the Sheriff in these parts?" Mike asked.
Vincent looked over at Mike. "A man named Orbison," Vincent said softly. He had a soft voice.
Mike nodded.
"You're new here." It wasn't a question. A mere statement of fact. Vincent knew they were new. He knew why they were there. There was only one reason to come to California.
It was a four letter word.
Gold.
Gold drove hundreds of thousands of people to California. It had driven the three young men to California, and it kept another there. The money. The riches.
Gold was California.

(Hah, so the story begins. This is my first Monkees Fanfiction. Please bear with me. I know, I snuck in Gene Vincent into the story and Roy Orbison. Calphurnia isn't anyone real. Just a sort of dancing girl. I blame reading too much Julius Caesar when I named her, she almost got named Portia. This is a western since I love westerns. First time I've tried my hand at a California Gold Rush story. This is a lot of firsts. If you like this, I have other (non-Monkee related) stories.
Well, peace and love and all that jazz! ~
Adde Away!)