The Monkees: Gold Rush

Heights of Waiting Finally Won Me...

The jury came back into the room. Their pale faces were glistening with sweat. There were thirteen men, all white, all of respected backgrounds. Three of them were blonde. Four of them were brown haired. Five of them had black haired. One of them had white hair.
"The jury rules that Nick Todd is guilty of the murder of Benjamin Smith, his sentence will be fifteen years in prison," The white haired jury member said. (God, I probably wrote that all wrong.)
Vincent balled his fists. Peter glanced over at him. Vincent stayed in his seat until the jury and the judge and Davy left and the sheriff took Nick Todd out of the courtroom. He slowly stood up. Peter stood up after him. Vincent limped towards the door. He stood there for a few minutes before punching the door with all his might. He rubbed his fist before stepping out of the courtroom and into the streets. Peter stayed in the courtroom for a few minutes, giving Vincent some space.
Finally Peter followed. The streets were full of people. Vincent was heading towards the jail. Peter saw Davy enter the saloon. Peter decided to go to the saloon as well. He reached the saloon and entered. Davy, Micky, and Mike were already inside sharing a bottle of whiskey between them. Peter walked over to join them.
"How did Vincent take it?" Davy asked.
Peter shrugged. He rested his face in his hands and let out a long sigh. Davy put his hand on Peter's shoulder. "It's alright, chap, he'll probably die in prison," Davy said.
"Why is this country so unfair?" Peter asked.
Micky shrugged. "We're just a little primitive out here," He said.
"Maybe a little savage," Mike said quietly. His words were empathetic.
Peter sighed. "One day, I hope that all this will be over and everyone will be able to live together peacefully," He said.
Davy nodded. "We all wish that," He said.
Calphurnia walked over and sat with them. "What's with all the long faces?" She asked.
"Nick Todd is only getting fifteen years," Davy said.
Calphurnia shrugged. "It could have been worse," She said.
"How?" Peter asked pitifully.
"I've seen a woman that murdered a black man get nothing," Calphurnia said.
The four of them were silent. Calphurnia realized what she had said hadn't helped any. She felt a twang of guilt. "Peter, please go play something," Calphurnia said. "It's just been so quiet in here since you've been gone."
Peter nodded and walked to the piano. He sat down. He couldn't think of what to play. He just didn't know.
Micky walked over. "Love is understanding..." He sang softly.
Peter started to play the music to the song. It sounded sort of strange on the piano. Calphurnia stared. It was the first time she had heard For Pete's Sake.

"Love is understanding,
Don't you know that this is true.
Love is understanding,
It's in everything we do.

In this generation,
In this lovin' time,
In this generation,
We will make the world shine.

We were born to love one another
This is something we all need.
We were born to love one another
We must be what we're goin' to be
And what we have to be is free.

In this generation,
In this lovin' time,
In this generation,
We will make the world shine.

We were born to love one another
This is something we all need.
We were born to love one another
We must be what we're goin' to be
And what we have to be is free.

Love is undertanding, we gotta be free
Love is undertanding, we gotta be free," Micky sang.

A few times in the song Peter had to remind Micky the words, but for the most part Micky remembered the lyrics. Davy and Mike looked at each other. The saloon was silent, as if it was appreciating the moment along with the rest of the world.
A young black man walked into the bar. He was tall and was wearing weather overalls and slightly dirty collared shirt. His clothing was too short for him, and his shoes were falling apart. He walked towards Davy.
"Thank you for trying to get the man that killed my pa to hang," He said.
Davy looked up at him. He felt a pain in his chest. "Hey, it was nothing. We just were doing what was right," Davy said.
"Even so, my ma and my sisters and my brothers thank you," The boy said. "If you ever..."
"Hey, you don't need to repay us," Davy said. "We couldn't do anything to help your pa. We just screwed up everywhere."
The boy was quiet. Peter watched. "I'm sorry," Peter said.
The boy looked up at Peter. He shrugged his shoulders. "The only person who should be sorry was the man that killed my father, but he'll never feel that way," The boy said.
The boy turned and left the saloon. It was silent once again. No one seemed to want to drink, and Peter didn't know if he wanted to play. Even the dancing girls seemed sad.
Vincent limped in. He head towards one of the table. Calphurnia brought him a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself some.
"Please play something, Peter," Vincent said in a pleading tone. He sounded in pain and pathetic. It hurt Peter to hear.
Peter began to play the song that Vincent had used to comfort him. It seemed to put Vincent to some ease. He drank quietly. Calphurnia walked to the back room and brought out a guitar which she handed to Mike. Mike listened then began to play along. The music seemed to spill into the streets and people began to creep their way into the saloon. Small orders were made as people began to drink away their sorrows. Aponi showed up. She sat down on the piano bench with Peter. Vincent began to sing with the music once he was drunk enough.
"Hush pretty baby, hush now, don't you cry-y-y..."
Somehow the town seemed better. The air seemed lighter and the sun seemed kinder. For the length of the song the town seemed right, even if the world was wrong...