Fixing a Hole

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

John was unaware what it was that awoke him, but slowly he felt himself pull into consciousness. His head hurt horribly, and he decided this was probably the result of a bad hangover. He readjusted the brown newsboy cap on his head and he tried to wake himself up.

Slowly, uneasily, he sat up, and gaped at his surroundings. He was lying next to a small, clear stream that trickled over almost perfectly rounded grey rocks. Next to the stream sat a tiny beach with yellow/brown sand and tiny green plants lining it. Under him, and around the beach, was mint green grass that waved slightly in the gentle breeze. On the other side of the stream sat a huge, ominous forest filled with fir trees, and behind him, on his side of the stream was a tall, green, grassy hill which John couldn't see over the top of. 

He looked around at these tranquil surroundings, and then wondered desperately how he'd ended up here. It wasn't until this point that he glanced next to him and noticed his three band mates lying unconscious, next to him on the grass and sand. He reached over to Paul, who happened to be closest, and he shook his friend's shoulder gently. 

"Ey lad, wake up!" John commanded, and Paul sleepily stirred. 

"Oi, me head!" Paul rubbed his head drowsily, "What happened? All I remember was being in the hotel room, something about a ring, and then everything going black."

"I remember disappearing or something," John mumbled, and Paul nodded. 

"I feel strangely hungry," Paul commented, and John nodded in agreement. 

"Let's wake up these two sleeping beauties and then see about getting some food. By the way, where are we?" 

Paul finally took the time to look around at the calm vicinity in which he'd awoken, and his mouth hung agape. "Where are we?" he commented, and John shrugged. 

"I don't know, that's why I asked you." He grinned, and he shook Ringo's shoulder while Paul got to work waking George. 

It didn't take long for the pair to sit up, Ringo rubbing his aching head with much discomfort. 

"What happened?" Ringo asked shakily, and then the past events rushed into his mind and he gulped. "Oh no! That ring and note! They made us all disappear and appear here. Oh I'm so sorry I found them mates, really." He glanced at his finger, and found that the ring was still dutifully stuck.

Paul and John now remembered what had happened before as well, but neither of them really believed this was because of a scrap of paper. So what had happened?

George looked around, looked around again, and then announced the words that had slowly, but surely begun to creep into all of their minds: "Where the bloody 'ell are we?"

None of The Beatles had an answer for this remark, so several shrugs were exchanged. 

"Well, we're certainly going to miss the press conference now," Paul commented after a moment, and his friends gave half hearted laughs. 

"Leave it to Paulie to still be worried about getting to the interview," John joked, but his attempt at humor was missing its usual enthusiasm. The more he woke up from his earlier daze, the more John realized he and his friends were in real trouble. They had no idea where they were, how they'd gotten here, or how to find people in this presumably empty expanse. 

"Ey mates, look, we've got to figure out where we are," Paul told the others, who nodded in agreement, and they all stood up, trying to see if there was anything they'd missed before. There were still no signs of life, and so Ringo suggested they head to the top of the nearby hill to see if they could see anything from there. 

The boys laboriously dragged themselves up the large, green hill, and after what seemed like a very tiring hike, they reached the top. 

"Well that was tiring," George stated and the four glanced over the hill to see if there were any signs of people nearby. Much to their shock, they spotted a tiny village that looked either Irish or Nordic sitting at the bottom, but it looked discouragingly abandoned. Beyond the village lay hundreds of miles of green, rolling hills and very, very far away appeared to be the sea.

"Blimey!" "What's 'appened?" "How'd we end up 'ere?" Were some of the various phrases uttered by the four shocked young men, and they all stared at the open expanse with wide eyes. 

"Lads, I don't think we're in Washington anymore," John declared, wiping his brow with his cap, and the others were silent, simply staring at the countryside.

"Well," Ringo suggested after a moment, "Do ya think we should go down there and see if was can find anybody?"

"It looks a bit empty of people," George told his friends dismally, but since no one could think of a better idea, the four began down the hill and heading over to the village.

They arrived at the bottom of the hill soon, and they silently walked into the seemingly unoccupied town. A few wooden signs (written in the same foreign langue that had been on the paper) flapped eerily in the small breeze, creating loud, empty banging noises. 

"Well, it does appear to be rather empty," Paul sighed, but just as these words exited Paul's mouth, dozens of strongly built men with swords and/or clubs jumped from the thatched buildings. They were growling incoherently at the Beatles, who subconsciously backed toward each other into a small circle as they were surrounded by thug-like ruffians, closing ranks tightly around the four friends. 

"You know, Macca, I really wish it was." John sighed quietly, and Ringo nodded his agreement as he gulped loudly.