The Monkees: Gold Rush

So, I'm In Love With Saturday's Child...

The wagon rolled into town. They headed towards the stables. Davy had explained to Aponi why they bought her the dress. Davy turned his back as she changed into the dress. He was surprised at how well it fit her. Davy helped her put her hair up and button up her dress. She put the hat on herself.
"I think the hat looks silly," Aponi complained.
"That's how lady's hats are these days," Davy said.
"Why?" Aponi asked.
Davy shrugged. "I guess the sillier they are the more attention they draw, and they more men notice them," He said.
Aponi shook her head. "That is dumb," She said.
Davy nodded his head. Aponi crawled closer to the front. She popped her head out of the front of the wagon. Peter had pulled the wagon into the livery stables. The owner was helping him put away the horses.
Aponi crawled back into the wagon. Mike tossed about a bit. Peter walked around to the back of the wagon. He and Davy picked Mike up. Aponi followed after them. She limped slightly because of the splint, but neither Peter nor Davy thought of her leg at that time. She was also a little unbalanced because of the shoes Davy had bought her. She didn't know how to walk on heels well yet. She opened her parasol when they were out of the livery stables. She silently looked around town.
Aponi noted all the different types of people walking around. She noticed the white men in cowboy hats and boots, she noticed the Hispanic families with their neatly embroidered clothing, she noticed the oriental women in their silk dresses, and she noticed the black men in their weathered boots and hats. She was amazed at how many different types of people were living alongside each other. They didn't particularly mingle, but they were all there. There was so much hope for this place.
Peter and Davy walked to the doctor's office. The doctor was an old man named Sinatra. Mike was so sick he wasn't able to support himself. Micky was walking down the street when he saw Peter and Davy and Mike and Aponi. He followed after them. He was curious about what was going on. Peter and Davy finally managed to drag Mike into the office. Dr. Sinatra looked up and saw them.
"What is wrong with him?" He asked looking at Mike.
"Well, we were hoping you could tell us that Doctor," Davy said. "He was drinking a lot earlier."
Dr. Sinatra stood up. He walked over and looked at Mike. "Go get me the pitcher of water over there and a glass," The doctor said.
Peter grabbed the pitcher and a glass and brought them over to Dr. Sinatra. The doctor poured Mike a cup of water. He poured the water into Mike's mouth. "He just needs some water to flush the alcohol out of his system," Dr. Sinatra said.
"He's just really drunk?" Davy said surprised.
Dr. Sinatra nodded. Davy glared at Mike who was still having trouble standing on his own. "Thank you for your trouble, doctor," Davy said helping Peter turn Mike around to leave the office. "How much do we owe you?"
"Nothing," Dr. Sinatra said sitting back down behind his desk.
"Thank you, Doctor," Peter said as he and Davy helped Mike out the door.
Micky was standing there with his arms crossed. "What's up with him?" He asked.
"Too much whiskey," Davy said grimacing.
Micky smiled at Aponi. "You're new around here. What's your name?" He asked.
Aponi smiled back at him. "Aponi," She said.
Micky blinked. "You're the Indian that..." He started.
Peter smiled and nodded.
"She hardly looks like a Indian at all!" Micky exclaimed.
Davy and Peter both shushed him. "You know yourself know you can't go shoutin' things like that!" Davy exclaimed.
Micky covered his mouth. Aponi looked at him with a furrowed brow. "Why is your hair like that?" She asked very confused.
"Like what?" Micky asked.
Aponi wiggled her fingers in circles over her head.
"Curly?" Micky asked surprised.
"What is curly?" Aponi asked.
"A way hair grows on some people," Micky said.
"Why does it do that?" Aponi asked still staring.
Micky shrugged. "Same reason some people's hair grows straight I suppose," He said.
"Strange," Aponi said.
Micky smiled. Peter looked over at Davy. Davy smiled as well. Peter nudged Micky.
"Kinda like how we see her people," He said.
Micky scratched his head. "Maybe a little," He said.
Mike groaned. Davy rolled his eyes. "Well, Pete, let's get Mike to a hotel room so he can sleep it off," Davy said.
Peter and Davy walked towards the hotel. Micky and Aponi followed. They all entered the hotel. They walked to the receptionist.
"We need four rooms," Davy said.
The receptionist nodded. He looked at his book. "Would you sign your names in?" He asked.
Davy signed his name in. Peter signed his. "You can just write your friend's name in," The receptionist said.
Peter signed Mike's name in. Aponi was given the pencil. She frowned. She couldn't write down her real name.
Aponi quickly wrote down a fake name. Mary Smith, short and sweet and very white.
Peter read it. He frowned, but he didn't say anything. The receptionist handed them the keys to each of their rooms.
"Room 23, 24, 26, and 27," The receptionist said as he gestured to Davy then Peter then Mike then Aponi.
Davy and Peter worked very hard to get Mike up the stairs to his room, room 26. When they finally managed it they took off his boots and cap and tossed him onto his bed. They forced him to drink some water before leaving the room.
Peter decided to go to the saloon and explain why he showed up so late to Calphurnia. Davy was bushed so he went to his hotel room for a nap. Aponi went to her room. Peter stopped in her room before going to the saloon.
"Why'd you say your name was Mary Smith?" He asked.
"Because I know that being a redskin is dangerous," Aponi said quietly.
Peter frowned and sat on her bed beside her. "Do you want to go to the saloon with me?" He asked.
Aponi shook her head. "That is not a place for me," She said.
Peter wrapped his arm over her shoulder. "I'll get you to come with me one day," He said.
Aponi smiled. "Maybe," She said.
Peter stood up and walked to the door. He turned to look at her. "No, definitely," He said before stepping out of her room.
Aponi blushed slightly when Peter left.

(Well, another chapter done! The doctor was Frank Sinatra, who better to heal wounds than a jazz singer. Jazz heals the soul. This chapter was sorta a filler huh. Well, I otta do something with it. If you have any questions about the story, or me or anything really, ask away. I'm a knowledgable person, and I have no problems with answering weird questions. Plus I'd love to clear up anything about this story that might be hard to understand.
Ooh! My head! ~ Adde Away!)