By the time the two of us had made it into the main city of Liverpool and had tooled around for a bit, it was around one in the afternoon. I think John could tell I was tired from the walking, so he somehow managed to pinch a bag of fish and chips that we could take to eat down by the docks.
Once we had sat down on the very end of the pier, the water a pearly gray mass beneath us with a matching sky (the sun had never managed to push its way through), John tore open the bag, split the food for us each to have, and went to town on his. There was silence for a few long minutes, both of us trying to inhale our lunches, before John spoke with a full mouth. “Shho, I hafe to ashhk you a queshhtion,” he managed to get out.
“Speaking with your mouth full isn’t very gentlemanly John,” I said, trying to be joking but failing miserably due to my timid tone. I was still rather intimidated by John; I didn’t know how to interact with older kids besides those in my family.
John gulped everything in his mouth down and responded in the same tone, mocking me, “Well it’s a good thing I ain’t a gentleman then, init?”
I could feel my face heating up from embarrassment, and I leant my head forward to hide the blush that was coloring my face. I heard John laugh again and then say, “But really I need to ask you something.”
“Shoot,” I said, gesturing for him to begin.
“Ok. You know earlier, on the bus, you said people don’t joke around you at home?”
I nodded slowly, knowing he was going to make me explain myself.
“What exactly did you mean by tha’”? I looked up to see him looking fixatedly at me, his eyes focused and his brow slightly furrowed.
I suppose I could have lied to John. I could have laughed and played it off, saying I said it as an excuse to shut him up. I could have said any number of things, and the conversation would have gone away.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t, for some unexplainable reason at the time, lie to him.
“What I meant John was that I have some pretty bad friends back home.” “Whoa, did that just come out of my mouth?” I thought in shock to myself. It was the first time I had ever admitted it out loud to anyone, including myself. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was right.
“I have this one girlfriend, she’s been great, she’s never ever let me down. But we’re both in the middle of this whole other group that, I dunno. They just, I don’t even know!” I threw up my hands in exasperation, frustrated that I couldn’t express what exactly it was that Meredith did to me. “Okay lemme, lemme instead put it this way,” I said, trying to start over my explanation as John looked on. “Ever since I started hanging out with this particular group, so it’s been about, I don’t know, about four years now?” I did a mental check then kept going. “Ever since then I haven’t had any genuine fun with them. That I guess basically sums it all up.”
John’s mouth fell open at that statement. “You mean you ‘aven’t had a good time since you were nine? No wonder you act older than Mimi, ya practically skipped your childhood!”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I denied hurriedly. “I mean I’ve had good times, it’s just a lot to deal with and keep track of ya know? I don’t know if boys worry about it as much, but for girls it’s all about who to talk to, who not to talk to, what to wear and what not to wear, what kind of music to listen to-”
“’old on ‘old on!” John cried, cutting me off. “'o tells you wha’ music you can’t listen to?”
“This…girl,” I said slowly.
“’This girl’?” he repeated in disbelief.
“She…only likes us to listen to Elvis,” I said, breaking down more and more.
“How do you know Little Richard then? You the little revolutionary?”
“Not even! The only ones I have of him is like that full one I gave you,” I pointed to his bag, “and the ‘Long Tall Sally’ single, both of which I hide under my bed whenever she comes over.” I sighed and said, “I’ve snuck some Eddie Cochran as well but that’s as far as I’ll go. All my other records are Elvis, I don’t dare have any others. If she ever found out…” I involuntarily shuddered slightly at the thought, and flashbacks of the day she cornered me in the hallway started flooding back. I would have lost myself in them had it not been for John speaking up again.
“So you don’t even know other people?” he asked incredulously. “Bo Diddley? Fats Domino? Carl Perkins? Chuck Berry?”
“I know them!” I protested. But sheepishly I admitted, “I just…haven’t heard a lot of their songs.”
“A lot? Or any?” John asked, eyebrows raised.
After a few moments pause, I shamefully murmured, “Any.”
There was silence between us punctuated by the gentle lapping of the waves against the posts holding up the pier. I had my eyes to the ground again, studying the cracks and small holes in the wood we both sat on.
Suddenly I felt John’s hand on my shoulder, making me flinch. I turned to look at him as he said, “Well I guess we’re gonna ‘ave to change that, aren’t we?” He grinned, showing no sign of being put off by me. I returned his smile and turned away, happy at his reaction. The only downside to the whole situation was that once John showed me all this great music, I was going to have to “forget” it all once I went back home. Still, I was grateful that he was willing to spend the time on me. It made me feel like I had someone who cared.
A few more moments of silence passed before John gave a huffing noise and hauled himself up, unceremoniously taking hold of my hand and pulling me up after him. “C’mon, there’s still lots ta show ya.” Following his lead and tossing the bag holding the remainder of the chips into a nearby rubbish bin, we set off down the docks, John leading the way.
The main city of Liverpool was noticeably bigger and busier than the smaller more suburban Penny Lane area. The buildings were clearly taller, more impressive, and underneath their glare ran busy shoppers on their way to do various errands, sailors tying off their boats to the iron cleats that lined the docks, hauling in their days’ worth of fish up onto the worn piers. It was past all this and through the streets John led me, me hoping to God that he knew where he was going. We took so many twists and turns going through the city I was starting to get dizzy.
“You do know where you’re going, right John?” I called up to him as we took yet another right along a busy street.
“’ave some faith!” he returned over his shoulder. “I know just where I’m goin’, I wanna show you a place I know.”
“Alright fine,” I surrendered, speaking in an undertone to myself. I realized this was going to be the test, to see if I actually trusted John enough to lead me safely through the city.
It was almost as if he read my mind and sensed my fears. Taking a look behind at me he stopped and smiled, waiting until I had drawn even with him to sling an arm around me and shake me a bit, saying with a laugh, “Don’t you worry Miss Lizzy, I’ll be deliverin’ you ‘ome safe an’ sound, make no mistake about tha’.”
Like I had so many times before that day I blushed, embarrassed and afraid that he thought I was a sissy for worrying so much. Finally we turned onto what would be our final street, walking a ways down before John pulled me abruptly to the left into a side alley.
“What the-” I started to say, extremely confused at this turn of events. But John took my arm and led me forward, farther down the cobbled pavement of the dark alley before reaching a door set low to the ground that appeared to have steps behind it that went lower. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the brick wall with his legs crossed one over the other. He looked at me expectantly, as if he expected a huge reaction from me at the sight of this desolate alleyway. “What?” I asked rather snappishly of him. I was disappointed we had come all this way just for him to show me a random door in the side of an alley wall.
“Well?” he prompted. “Whaddyou think?” He seemed to think I would know what the hell it was he was talking about, but I was very much in the dark.
“What do I think of what John? I don’t know what this place is,” I said impatiently.
“This place!” he repeated incredulously. “Christ this place, as it were, is the Cavern my dear! Or ‘ave you forgotten ‘ow to use those eyes of yours?” With that he pointed straight up above our heads into the air, and I followed his finger to see what it was he was focused on. Sure enough, hanging on metal chain links was a red wooden sign with “The Cavern Club” painted in yellow.
“So…?” I trailed off, not getting what the big deal was. It’s not like we didn’t have clubs in Melrose too; this wasn’t a new concept to me. Sure I’d never been to a club before, I was only thirteen, but I knew of them and had heard what they were like.
“So!” John yelled, his disbelief echoing off the surrounding dark brick walls. “This is the Cavern, only the best music club in all Liverpool!"
“Doesn’t look like much,” I said honestly, because it really didn’t. The place was dead empty, the only sign of life on the inside being a lone man sweeping the floor up.
“Ohho, maybe not now,” John pointed a hand at the door to the club. “But on any given night you should see it. Heavin’ with people it is, always surprises me that I can even push me way in.”
“So is this your favorite place to come hear bands or something?” I asked, still not clear on why exactly John was so enthused about this little hole in the wall.
“Not even, the bands who play ‘ere are shit,” John said with a completely straight face, dead serious. My eyes widened at his language, (I was pretty sheltered when it came to curses back home; I was rather a sissy) but he plowed on, unaffected by my reaction. “Nah, I’d like to play ‘ere meself one day. Maybe once the band gets around a bit more, I dunno. But one day, you’ll see Lizzy, I’ll be there, makin’ twenty quid a gig. That’ll be the life, I tell ya.”
I laughed at his dreamy tone, his face and mind clearly occupied by his future prospects. Glancing at my watch however, my face fell and I was quick to pull John out of dreamland. “John, it’s already quarter past two! Mimi’ll be back any time now and I’ve barely got any cleaning done!”
John seemed to snap back into reality and, upon realizing the earful he would be receiving from his aunt if we got home late, started walking hurriedly towards the alley entrance, me speed-walking behind him trying to keep up. “C’mon, if we hurry we can catch the number two that’s around the corner back to Menlove.” Glancing back at my considerable distance behind him, he waved a hand impatiently, not stopping to talk. “C’mon c’mon, you were the one getting’ worried in the first place and now it’s a walk in the park? C’mon, Mimi’ll be pissed if we get in late!”
VVV
Despite our running and pushing of pedestrians out of our path, we still managed to be the last pair on the bus just before the doors closed. The bus, being a little later in the day, was much more full on the bottom, so once again John and I made our way to the front of the top level. I got the window seat again, John in practically the same position as earlier with his arm slung round the top of the seat. It wasn’t as awkward as in the morning, so I felt free to look out the window more, take in the parts of the city that John hadn’t showed me.
I did this quietly, as was my personality, and it would have remained that way unless John hadn’t come up next to my face and pointed out the window at an old Corinthian style building we were passing. “See that big ol’ thing?” he asked. I nodded and he said, “Tha’s where I’ll be goin’ in the fall. For school, see.”
“What is that place?” I asked, already judging John again and saying to myself that he probably wasn’t a very good student.
“It’s the Liverpool art college, Mimi got me in after I got kicked out of Quarrybank,” John said nonchalantly, as he had been expelled from many schools before. As if it were part of his yearly routine; instead of graduating, he got expelled.
“Oh…alright then…” I responded, feeling awkward about asking John about how he got kicked out. I didn’t know how he’d react if I asked him.
He grinned at me impishly and said expectantly, “Well? Aren’t you gonna ask what twisted thing I did to get booted out? You must want ta hear all the dirty details.”
“I suppose so,” I admitted slowly. “What…what did you do?”
He shrugged, as if he’d forgotten. “I dunno. Number of things really, I suppose. Talkin’ back to those sorry sods they call teachers, there’s one thing. I think it was just a lot of ‘em didn’t like me, that’s what it all comes down to see.”
He was silent for a moment, busy lighting up a cig, but then laughed suddenly, as if remembering something humorous. “It’s funny actually, I had a math teacher who wrote on my report thing once, he said ‘Bound for failure on this current path’ or some other shit like that. Ya see they get it in their ‘eads that if a kid ‘as a mind and can think for ‘imself that ‘e’s a rebel or something. When really,” he exhaled a large puff of smoke, “I just wanna do something worthwhile, ya know. They teach us all this stuff but it’s just, it’s such a waste of time you know? ‘Cause when is anybody ever gonna actually use half that stuff in their lives? Never, that’s what I say anyways.”
John suddenly turned to look at me, taking in my expression. John’s view of academics was certainly not the way I viewed things, but his perspective was interesting to me. He definitely had an opinion, that was for certain. A thought then occurred to me at that moment: maybe Anne was more right about John than I had realized. Maybe he was like me: stifled, unable to fully express himself the way he wanted to. The only difference between him and myself was that John knew what his opinions were and was extremely confident in them. He knew where he stood, what he believed in, and was so damn sure of himself, at least he seemed that way to me. I couldn’t exactly say the same about myself however. As I’d told John I’d practically been shut down by my “friends” all my childhood, never really having the opportunity to form my own opinions like John had.
John was clearly a leader, so no one dictated what he could and couldn’t do, unless one counted Mimi. John was able to grow up and take the experiences he’d had and form his own opinions. Me, I was a follower. I was just another member of a group that told me what to think, feel, listen to, speak about. I’d had experiences, not so many as John but experiences nonetheless, and yet I’d never been given the chance to interpret them for myself. It had always been what Meredith had imposed on me, what she felt was pushed on all of us, and none of us were brave enough to break off and create our own lives.
John was still waiting for a verbal reaction to his statement, so I responded, “I mean, I guess I’ve never really thought of it that way. I guess it would be a lot more useful in school if they taught us how to do practical things rather than how to figure out the area of a triangle.”
“Exactly!” John exclaimed. “Finally someone gets it! I’m tellin’ ya Liz, that’s why the college is gonna be good. I can be an artist there ya know? I can paint all day and write and I can’t get told off ‘cause everyone’s doin’ the same thing! Honestly I can’t be buggered with all that math and science stuff, what a load of rubbish that all is. If anything when I get older, I just wanna stay as far away from all that as I can.”
“Me as well actually,” I realized suddenly. “I…I’ve never liked any of that stuff either. I guess I’ve only ever really liked English or my literature class.”
John snorted. “You guess? What you’re not sure?” He widened his eyes suddenly as an idea seemed to dawn on him. “Wait a moment. You can’t make those decisions either? ‘That girl,’ as you call ‘er, she tells you what to do about that as well?”
I nodded but quickly jumped to my own defense. “I make it sound like she controls everything, but she really doesn’t!”
“Liar,” I thought bitterly.
John didn’t seem to buy into it either, giving me a look that seemed to say that he knew what I was really about, and blew a fair amount of smoke into my face. “Maybe that’ll wake you up,” he said, giving an extra puff for good measure.
“Wake me up from what?” I asked, annoyed as I waved the smoke away.
“This life of yours that’s controlled by bitchy prima donnas, that’s what,” he replied bluntly, and at this statement we lapsed into a period of silence, not broken until we pulled up to the corner of Menlove Avenue and descended from the bus. The bus grumbled away mere moments after John’s foot left the step, its doors snapping shut and the gray smoke billowing from the exhaust.
We stood there in silence a bit longer, John with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and kicking idly at the sidewalk, me leaning up against a nearby tree, wondering why we weren’t rushing home now that we’d finally arrived. It was then I realized that I seemed to be waiting for John to say something. It sure seemed that way, the silence needed to be broken by someone, and I deemed him the most fit to do so.
Fulfilling his duty, John finally looked up at me and said, “Listen, you know ‘ow, earlier I said I was rescuing you today?”
“Yeah,” I replied, going along with him. “You said it was your mission to rescue ‘damsels in distress.’"
“Yeah, well, I’m gettin’ the feeling I need to save you from a lot more than boredom,” he said outright.
“Oh?” I said in surprise. He surely was straightforward.
He fixed his great auburn eyes on me, silently seeming to scan my person for…something. Something specific he was looking for. “I’ve never met a bird that’s as focused on her friends’ bloody opinions as you.” Walking towards me and slinging an arm around me, we started strolling back down the road towards Mendips. “I’ll be changing that, ‘tis my personal mission for the summer.”
“Is it now?” I asked, slightly teasing him and raising my eyebrows in mock disbelief.
“Why yes indeed,” he replied, smiling along with my joking tone. Suddenly though, he stopped in his tracks, almost looking as if he’d forgotten something. “Do you want to-” But he stopped himself mid-sentence, shaking his head as if erasing the thought. “Never…never mind. Come ‘ead, let’s go.”
I stared, thoroughly confused, back at him. “What was all that?” I asked, puzzled about the half conversation that had just taken place. “Do I want…what?”
“Nothin’, it’s nothin’.” John denied quickly. “Forget about it.” I kept staring him, my hands on my hips, demanding an answer. Blatantly ignoring me he grabbed my arms and laughed exasperatedly. “Come on! If we don’t get back soon old Mary’ll ‘ave us both for supper!” With that he began sprinting down the street, leaving me with no choice but to reluctantly follow in his wake.
As I began to catch up with him, John managed to glance over his shoulder at me and sped up, immediately turning it into a competition. Menlove Avenue was long enough for it, so setting my face determinately, I too began to speed up, trying my hardest to keep up with the older John.
Halfway there he stole another look over his shoulder, and he must have seen the grim look of determination on my face for he threw his head back and laughed at my intensity. “His loss,” I thought triumphantly, grinning widely as I blew past him.
“’Ey!” I heard him shout from a ways behind me, realizing too late that I had bypassed him. I saw out of the corner of my eye John try and summon his lagging strength in order to beat me, but it was to no avail and he knew it. “You better ‘ope I don’t get you!” he called, panting heavily. I merely laughed at him, jumping the gate to Mendips and running into the house, John only a few moments behind me.
I turned and rested my hands on my knees, matching John’s labored breaths. I looked up at the door frame to see John leaning there, one hand up against it to keep him upright. Cheeks flushed, that Teddy Boy quiff slightly askew due to his exertion. Wagging a limp and tired finger at me, he panted out, “I…I let you…win.”
“I’ll pretend to believe that,” I replied, gulping in the air, unable to get enough of it. I may have won, but it was just barely. Laughing breathily at him I joked, “You’re practically an old man John. Look at you, wheezing your lungs out over there.”
“Oh shut it,” he snapped back. Looking around the hall, he dropped the bag with his new record and heaved a sigh of relief. “At least we beat old Mimi ‘ome eh?”
“Who was it you beat home John?” a voice called from up the stairs, causing both of our heads to shoot up in horror at the source. Mimi stood at the top of the stairs, fingers clenching the banister and her face set in a look of fury. She descended the stairs slowly and silently, the anger practically radiating off her. John and I followed her with every step she took, our eyes never leaving her purely from shock and fear. I’d never experienced Mimi’s “wrath” before, but I figured it must have been some kind of record that I’d be told off by her my second day on English soil.
Finally reaching the carpeted landing, Mimi turned slowly to John and said in a dangerously quiet voice, “John? Would you care to explain where you and Elizabeth have been all afternoon?”
I looked to him, expecting him to have some witty remark ready. But John practically cowered before her, eyes widened in bewilderment at what to say. “I, uh, we, um, I, I…” he stumbled out, unable to form coherent sentences in her presence.
I felt bad for John, he seemed so out of his comfort place in front of Mimi. “Mrs. Smith,” I interrupted, taking pity on the poor devil and deciding to help him out. “John was just showing me around the city ma’am. And,” I took another look at John, and this time our eyes met and I silently said, “Go with this.” “it...it was my idea. I made him.”
His eyes widened in surprise; it clearly was not what he expected me to say. Mimi turned sharply towards me, her shock as apparent as John’s. “What do you mean ‘you made him’?”
“I, well, Anne, I mean, my Aunt Anne, told me I could go out and explore Liverpool, and once you told me you were going out all day I figured I could go and finish my chores here later. And, I mean, John didn’t want to go, but I made him come. I told him I’d get lost without him, and then he’d be the one to blame ‘cause he was asleep. So really, he was just looking out for me, that’s all.” I fixed my eyes on the carpet in shame, glancing up and adding, “I’m, I’m really sorry. It was a mistake.”
“It surely was,” Mimi said sharply, beginning to reprimand me about responsibility and promptness and everything else under the sun. I would have listened too, I felt bad enough that I had walked out on all my chores, if not for John. Once Mimi’s back was turned his cheekiness miraculously made a reappearance, and he proceeded to mock her movements as she lectured me. Fixing his face into one of a ludicrous seriousness, he raised his hand stiffly and kept bringing it down like Mimi, as if pointing to emphasize the points being made. Not long after he switched to the jutting out of his chin and the widening of his eyes, a look he flashed at me so suddenly I almost fell over from shock and laughter.
Needless to say I was having a very hard time keeping it together, and between John’s changing of expressions he cackled silently at my inability to contain myself, all the while not drawing any of Mimi’s attention away from the task at hand: making sure I knew the seriousness of my grievous faults. “…so you should find yourself very lucky that I’m letting you have a second chance,” she finished.
“Hmm? What?” I asked absently, distracted by another one of the faces John was pulling. Sensing something was up Mimi whipped around to face John, nearly catching his imitation of her. By the time she faced him though he looked completely innocent, face fixed in an expression of shame, hands clasped behind his back. Narrowing her eyes at him she turned slowly back around to face me. “What I was saying was, I’m allowing you a second chance to work around this house. Maybe, if you work well, you can earn my trust back.”
“Thank you Mrs. Smith,” I said appreciatively, really and truly meaning what I said. I didn’t want Anne thinking I was irresponsible, and I knew if I told her it was John’s fault I’d been gone all day she’d tell Mimi, no matter who good of an aunt she was. And I couldn’t let John get in trouble and get caught for lying. No, much easier that I got a second chance.
Turning around once more to face John, she pointed her finger disapprovingly at him and said sternly, “As for you John Winston Lennon, you may walk Elizabeth next door and come right home. I’ll be having a talk with you then.” And with that, she breezed past me and into the kitchen leaving the two us alone once again in the hall.
Without another word we both scurried out the door and down the path, turning left after the gate to go next door back to my house. After just clearing the gate we both burst out laughing, stumbling along after each other as fits of laughter shook us. “Jeez louise your aunt’s scary!” I heaved, rubbing tears from my eyes as we reached the gate to Anne’s house.
“Try livin’ with her,” John replied, sucking in air after his laughing fit. He finally stopped and got a good look at me, finally saying, “Thanks. For gettin’ me outta that whole mess.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said, embarrassed that he was thanking me. I knew he really didn’t need to, and thanks just didn’t seem very John-like.
“Well, thanks anyways,” he returned nevertheless. “Kinda sounds weird, but you doin’ that kinda reminds me of somethin’ family would do. Like, between brother and sister ya know?”
“Not any brother and sister I know,” I thought, but shrugged in agreement nonetheless.
Grinning wide all of a sudden, John said, “Guess that makes you my sister then Liz.” Turning on his heel and starting to walk towards his house, he stopped and turned back, rather reminiscently of the previous day when he reminded me about the mop. “That means I getta call ya Lizzy. Just ‘cause it gets under ya skin.”
I groaned as he winked at me and continued on his way. “Bye John,” I called after his retreating form.
Raising a hand to gesture he heard me he called back, “See ya Lizzy!”
I tried to sigh to myself, knowing I normally would be annoyed with such childish behavior from him. But I couldn’t do it. The grin wouldn’t leave my face, I couldn’t help but smile.
”This may not be such a bad summer after all,” I thought happily to myself, and opened up the gate to go inside.
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Hello all, comment, vote, follow, ya know, the usual. Seriously though, drop me a comment, any one of you guys. Not cause I'm desperate for your praise or anything like that, but I really love hearing you guys' opinions. So lemme know how I'm doing and what I can improve on, and I will definitely take your critques to heart. Thanks to you all for reading, peace and love xoxo
~Rosalind
P.S. If it loaded, please check out the lovely drawing for this story by BelongsToSgtPepper, it's really fab!