FEB 1958
Weeks had passed since I first met John. I've gone to school with him, hanged out with him, and also his mother and Aunt Mimi. Mostly i've helped Aunt Mimi with some chores around the house, of course I cleaned my own room and washed my own clothes. She made it clear that she would appreciate me running errands for her not to far from the house. John helped me for a week to navigate which stores to go and how to get there and back home. I'm very happy at how close we've gotten in the last few weeks. Today, John had given me the news that Paul wants to meet us at a fish and chip shop. I sit beside John at a table in the middle of the shop, along with the other Quarrymen.
"When is Paul getting here?" I ask.
John turns away from his bandmates to look over at me, " This is the tenth time you've asked! Where's Paul? When is Paul gettin here? You can't even let me finish talking with the lads!"
I had not realized how much I pestered with the same question. It was always amusing the thought of hanging around with two Beatles, I couldn't help myself from the anxiety. My glance kept at the glass window overlooking the street, trying to identify Paul in the faces of the people.
"Have you been to a fishy shop?" John nudges me. My head quickly spins to his direction staring back at him.
"No"
He stares at me for a second, "Of course you haven't"
And with that he turns back to his friends without saying anything else to me, leaving me puzzled at his response. The bell of the shop door rings and Paul appears at the door followed by another young boy who's identity I could not see due to him hiding right behind Paul.
"McCartney!" John and the rest of the Quarrymen cry. Paul shyly raises his hand up, greeting them with a smile. John leans back on his chair and places both his arms behind his head, "What have you got for us McCartney?"
"I brought in a mate of mine, from school" Paul said, moving over to reveal the young teenager hiding behind him. My face beamed at the sight of a shy young George Harrison. He looks exactly as in his early photographs, a kid with a teddy boy facade like John's. I tap my foot rapidly waiting for Paul to introduce us. I guess my tapping was extremely obvious causing John to turn to me.
"Whats wrong with your leg there?"
"Nothing I j-just-"
Before I could come up with any excuse, Paul brings George up to John, "This is George".
I watch as John gets up from his seat and eyes him up and down before he gradually shakes his hand. I get up excitedly and impatiently, hoping Paul will direct George to me.
"And this is Rosa, Rosa this is George", Paul says.
"Nice to meet you George I-" I stop myself before I could say anything odd, at least to them. John's gaze was on me, he probably noticed the big smile I had plastered on my face, he most likely will question me about it soon. George didn't seem to mind me smiling so bright, he even flashed a half smile at me as he shook my hand.
"George knows how to play too you know" Paul remarked at the Quarrymen, most importantly to John. John as I expected arched a brow and scoffed, making me feel slightly embarrassed at his reaction.
"How old are you lad? Still wetting the bed eh?" John crudely asked. The rest of the Quarrymen laughed at his comment. I on the other hand did not find it humorous at all. The smile on my face faded and I was too afraid to look over at Paul and George, especially George. He glances to Paul, he rolls his eyes at his young friend.
"I'm fourteen actually" George responds. He pulls out a chair right beside John but is stopped by John's sudden grip onto the chair. George glances up at him confused, followed by my confused gaze.
"The Quarrymen sit around me laddy, you can sit next to her" John points towards me. George stares at him for a moment, almost in a challenging manner. Paul murmurs something to George, nudging him to sit next me. I watch him make his way beside me, my eyes follow him slump himself down onto the chair, crossing his arms with a serious expression on his face. I take notice of his clothing and facade, denim jeans, a brown button up shirt under his denim jacket. His hair is slicked back, exposing his face. I've always found George Harrison as the good looking Beatle, now seeing the profile of his young face was fascinating to me, just as much as seeing old photographs of his youth. I shift around my chair looking down, wondering how to begin a conversation with him. I lift up my face and he's still looking straight ahead. My body leans a little closer to him, but retrieves back from hesitation. My mind raced, trying to figure out what to say to him or if I should even speak to him, especially since he just got rejected by John. Without turning his head to me, I can see his eye dart to me, noticing how I constantly look over at him and then back down at the ground. He furrows his brows, most likely confused and weirded out by my behavior. John notices that we are both seated in silence. He shifts his body to us, interrupting his own conversation with his band.
"You both look like you're at a funeral! Go on you two! Speak to one another!" John cried. As always, his bandmates laughed at his comments, "Go on mate, speak to the little girl".
I furrow my eyebrows at John. George rolls his eyes slightly still with his arms crossed against his chest. He leans back against his chair and closed his eyes. My body turns to him and I finally begin a conversation, "H-Hi, I'm Rosa".
George opens one eyelid to me.
"I know, I heard it the first time", he says.
I think of something else to say, "So you play guitar?"
"Yes", he replies. George sits up and finally turns to me, "You're not from here are ye? That accent is American".
I smile, "Oh yeah, I'm from America, I'm here as an exchange student...I'm also staying with John and his Aunt".
"I thought you were his bird", he says. My eyes widen a bit at his assumption.
"No i'm not his...bird", I reassure him, cringing at the last word. He half smiles at me before he looks down at the ground. Once again I search for something else to say, "I'm sorry about John, he can be a little rude sometimes, you will soon get used to it once you work together".
George lifts up his face with a puzzled expression, "Who said I will be working with him?"
My eyes widen again.
"Erm...", Is all that leaves my mouth. I manage to compose myself and try to find a way to make sense to my so called advise. I shrug my shoulders as I begin to explain, "Well, I mean if John decides to recruit you into the group you'll have to work together"
"I don't believe so, i'm too young to be in his band and he seems to bugged to have me around him, I don't think there is a future with me in his band", he explains.
My eyes bounce around once I hear his last sentence escape his mouth. I can't help but grin at the idea of how much power I have here. The power of being the only one who knows of the significance of every person i've had the honor to be surrounded by. The power I hold of knowing the future that lays ahead for the band and the destiny of each member. John suddenly shakes my arm before I can say anything else to George.
"Bloody hell I have to finish that thing for school!", he cries.
"W-what?",
"Gather your stuff!",
John chucks hus drink down.
"Shit come on you silly girl!", he yells as he runs out the exit. I gather myself quickly.
"It was very nice to meet you George! I hope to see you again", I say as I extend my hand out to him. He glances up at me and he shyly smiles.
" I hope so too", he replies shaking my hand. I hear the door of the chip shop open loudly.
"What's taking so bloody long?! Are you dragging yourself on the floor ?!", John exclaims loudly, making other people at the shop jump in their seat.
"Oh no! Don't worry i'm coming!", I yell back not as loudly as he. I wave goodbye at the Quarrymen and again to George who happens to have a grin on his face. Once i'm outside, I can see George through the window inside the shop, watching John and I leave in a hurry.
***
John needed to be at the art school right after his meeting with the Quarrymen. He needed to work on a project that he kept putting off until the very end. We walked beside eachother trying to reach the school.
"You had so many days to work on your project, I don't known why you waited until now when you could have had it finished?", I complain.
He turns to me with a smile, "I work better when I'm being choked".
John wraps his hands onto his neck and pretends to choke himself. He makes his voice change to a whimper, crying out, "I-I...help me...R-Rosie help me"
I purse my lips trying not to laugh at his antics. He taps on my shoulder trying to get me to look at him "choking".
"Okay thats enough", I say with a grin. He continues making a suffucated sound ignoring me completly. Suddenly someone stops in front of us. Its Stuart.
"John?", he says.
John's face brighten once he sees him, finally stopping at his little act.
"What are you doing here mate?", asked John. Stuart lifts up a canvas that he had been carrying.
"Came to pick up me paintings". He answers
Stuart then looks over at me and nods, "Rosa"
I smile at him.
"Are you here to finish up something?", Stuart asked John. It took John awhile to answer. He was distracted at whatever or whomever was ahead. I nudge at his arm trying to his attention. He doesn't stir. Stuart looks behind him at what seems to be the distraction.
"Who's that bird Stuart?", John asked Stuart, at last breaking from his disconnection with us.
"Thats Cynthia Powell", Stuart stated.
At the mention of her name, I stopped and looked ahead. There she was, John Lennon's first wife Cynthia. She had bright blonde hair that stood out if you looked towards her direction. I happily watch John observe her, falling for her for the first time.
"Wasn't she the one who handed me the pencil the other day?", John asked Stuart.
"Yes, thats her", Stuart replied
"She had brown hair yesterday?"
"She must have dyed it", John stated with a wide grin, "pretty fit isn't she?"
Stuart and John nudge eachother as they continue to stare at her. John does the unexpected by letting out a screeching loud whistle. Cynthia turns to our direction. I quickly hide my face with hand covering my face.
"No don't do that!", I complain.
John playfully waves at Cynthia but she doesn't seem to find it humorous. He cries out to her, "Give us a smile Ms.Powell!"
I sneak a peak at her through my fingers, she turns around ignoring at John's cries and whistles.
"Come on" he says to me. He looks back at Stu and waves, "Bloody good seeing you lad!".
Staurt smiles at him. I follow John and wave back at Stuart. Cynthia is standing outised the entrance of the school talking with some of her friends. I'm nervous at the thought of waling past her, especially now with John doing what he did. Once we are close John growls at her, causing her and her friends to stare back at him. He doesn't stop to talk to her or bother her with more cat calls. He keeps on walking towards the entrance glancing back at her. I can't help but look at her face. My heart stops when we both make eye contact. She holds a concerned stare at me, not minding the awkward stare off we are having. I don't wave or smile at her, I would love to but the situation seems strange to do so. I turn around avoiding her gaze. One of these days we will meet again and this time it will be properly. I do hope we become good friends since we both will be involved in John's life one way or another.
***
Julia places a tray of biscuits in front of John and I to eat in the living room. John grabs one and chows down on it, letting a rainfall of crumbs fall down onto the carpet. Julia lets out a giggle at her son's eating manners.
"Shall I play us some music?", she suggested, getting up to turn on the small radio that sat in the corner of the room atop the end table. The grainy sound of the radio filled the room once it is switched on. Julia happily dances back to her where she sat in front of us, causing a smile to appear on our faces.
She sits and lets out a sigh, "So, what have you two been up to?", she asks
John glances at me, "Nothing really, just going out with the lads, having a beer while Rose sits and stares"
He lets out a snicker, hoping his mother would join in on the laugh with him. Julia looks at John condesendidly.
"What?", Is all he says watching his mom continue to stare at him with the same expression.
"Don't be rude to your friend here John, you could scare her away", she says.
"She doesn't mind it at all! She's practically used to me by now! Right Rose you know what I mean?"
I arch my brow at him, "You know I always try to correct you when you're being..."yourself" "
Julia lets out a laugh. John is taken aback from me, straightning himself up he replies, "What is that supposed to mean you st-",
"Ah! Don't you finish that sentence!", Julia interjects. I glare at him with a look that tells him I got the last laugh in the conversation. A different song is heard on the radio that provokes John and Julia to freeeze.
"Elvis is on!", they both exclaim. Julia runs to turn up the radio. Hound Dog by Elvis Presley travels through my ears. Julia and John dance around the living room. She looks at him with so much pride and love. He looks at her with so much admiration and longing. I smile widely at the duo. Happy for them both, watching a bond between a mother and her son blossom. Julia grabs my hand, startling me. She pulls me off the couch to join them in their dance. At first I stand there still, embarrased to do any movement.
"Come on Rosie dance!", Julia insists.
John is lost in his own little world pretending to be Elvis. Julia gets a hold of both my hands and swings them up and down. I slowly get with the beat, letting a smile form on my mouth once I get the hang of it. Both Julia and I dance together for awhile until she decides to grab John's hand and with her other grab mine.
"Go on! Grab eachothers hands!", she says. We both hesitantly look at one another. He puts his hand to me and be waits for me to respond. My eyes dart at his face then back to his hand. My hand manages to place itself atop his. We both glare up once our hands meet, smiling. Julia want us to spin in a circle, just like you do in ring around the rosie. We spin and spin in the same direction. John agressivly spins, almost running around the circle. I laugh cry out along with Julia, feeling the thrill and rush of it all. The three of us break away, letting outselves fall into anything. John and his mother land onto the couch and I am thrown onto the floor. The three of us laugh. The room is spinning in one direction. I try to get up but can't due to the fact of the latter. Once Julia has recovered from laughter she pokes at John's arm and points at me down on the floor. He tries sitting up, then also tries getting off the couch. His body tumbles to his right side and he falls onto the ground in front of me. Julia slaps her leg and lets out loud laugh.
"Fucking hell", John mumbles as he gets up recovering from the dizziness. He bends down and grabs both my hands helping me up.
"Thank you", I say
He stares at me for a second before we both look over at Julia trying to catch her breath from all the laughing.