After the Energists Rebooted Teen YearsChapter 5 Staying Alive
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After The Energists: Rebooted Teen YearsChapter 22: Love Will Keep Us Alive free porn video
Mike’s House, Bryanston
1:07pm, Sunday, February 20, 1979
Around 1pm, after having a couple of oranges as a snack, I asked Lynette if she wanted to go for a walk in our new frozen wonderland. It wasn’t real cold outside, probably 25 to 28 degrees Fahrenheit, so our basic winter coats, toques and gloves worked fine, especially since we’d be moving around outside. There was a sheet of ice at least three-quarters of an inch thick over everything, which was beautiful to see but made traveling near impossible.
Lynette and I enjoyed slipping and sliding over the ice covered snow drifts in our large collective backyard area. Both of us were in our tennis shoes, which didn’t provide much grip as we walked and talked out in the cool, crisp air. After about twenty minutes, we heard a door slam and then a couple of fun yells and screams coming from Paul and Cathy’s home location.
We didn’t have to wait long as both McGregory twins came slipping and sliding out back on their old school ‘banana-seat-style’ bicycles over the frozen snow drifts. Cathy’s slow and steady pedaling allowed her to climb over a few of the two to four foot drifts, while Paul’s frantic pedaling caused his knobby wheels to spin and crash on those same small drifts.
Lynette called out, “Hey, folks, I never expected to see you guys on bikes out here on these snow drifts.”
“Lynette! Hey! What are you doing out in our part of the world?” Cathy fired back as she pedaled her bike over to us. “Afternoon, Mike.”
“I got stranded here last night after bringing, uh, no, after Mike had to drive my mom’s car here last night. Mike’s mom put me up in his brother’s, uh ... John’s bunk bed for the night.”
“You slept in Mike’s room, in John’s bed?” Paul chimed in as he figured out that slower pedaling was indeed the route to get traction on these ice covered drifts.
“She sure did,” I replied with a grin, which Cathy picked up on immediately, and fired back sarcastically,
“And I’m sure you stayed in John’s bunk, on the opposite side of that bedroom the whole night, too.”
“I never said I stayed there the whole night,” Lynette replied with a smile. “I DID sleep in John’s bunk, though, because we didn’t want to start any parental trouble in our first week of dating.”
“So, uh, what happened?” Paul asked as he sat on the banana seat of his black and white striped bike.
“You know I don’t share that type of stuff with anyone,” I replied and saw a small grin appear on Cathy’s face as she knew I was pretty good at keeping dating information private.
Cathy mercifully changed the topic of discussion from our overnight experiences to getting mine and Patt’s bikes out of our storage shed, so we all could fool around on the frozen snow drifts in our backyards. As I struggled to open the frozen steel shed door, Cathy brought up our band’s performance on Friday night.
After chipping off the ice around the bottom of the sliding door, I had the two bikes out and ready to boot around on for Lynette and me. I wasn’t paying too much attention to the girls’ conversation as I struggled with the shed door and only caught a snippet of Cathy saying, “ ... Jennifer would be good.”
When I wheeled Pat’s bike towards Lynette, I said, “Here’s your chariot, Lynette, and what were you saying about Jennifer?”
“Oh, I was just telling Paul and Cathy about our saxophone player conversation and how we think Jennifer would be the best person to ask, if she has the time to play with our new band,” Lynette replied as she swung her left leg over the back of Patt’s two toned blue bike.
As I hopped on my purple and black bike, with its banana seat, Cathy said, “I think Jennifer would be the best choice, too, as a sax player. I think she also plays guitar and her voice is pretty sweet, at least when I heard her sing in the school choir.”
“She’s pretty hot, too!” Paul chimed in as he skidded past us and busted his ass after his bike hit the metal inverted ‘U’ bar we had cemented in the ground to hook up to our Samoyed dog’s chain.
“That’s what you get for focusing on Jennifer’s hotness, and not on her musical ability,” Cathy chuckled as Paul scrambled back on his feet and picked his bike up off the frozen snow.
“Oh, shut up,” Paul jokingly sneered at his twin sister. He then worked his left arm around in circles a few times as he said, “Dang, that’s a little harder landing than usual on snow drifts.”
“It’s ICED over, Dude! Not fluffy snow,” I laughed at him as we all pushed off and rode our bikes over the frozen winter wonderland. All of us were laughing as we rode around, doing both planned and unplanned spinouts or wipeouts.
When I tried to use a steep-rising snow drift as ‘banking’ for a fast, power turn, the friction between my knobby tires and the icy drift wasn’t enough to handle the centrifugal force of the turn. Both my bike and I flew wildly out of control for a few feet before gravity let me know it was still working and slammed me down onto the hard, iced snow.
“That was so cool, Mike!” Paul called out as I rolled a few times before coming to a stop, minus my blue and yellow toque.
“You, okay?” Lynette asked as she rode Patt’s bike over to my sprawled out body.
“Yeah,” I groaned out as I sat on my ass for a second to catch my breath after that wild ride and hard landing. “Hope my bike is okay.”
Cathy rode up pretty quickly and purposefully skidded past us on the ice before she asked, “What happened to your head, Mike?”
With my stocking cap knocked off, the medical taped, gauze bandage was obvious now, so I said, “I busted my head open when I jumped out of bed this morning. I guess being a couple of inches taller than before has its drawbacks, as well as its benefits.”
“It scared the hell out of me, when I ran around the center thing in his room and saw him covered in blood,” Lynette said as she tossed me my toque. “I had to use a t-shirt to stop the bleeding. Then, his mom and I got him into the bathroom and cleaned up.”
“Is it bad?” Cathy asked.
“His mom said he probably should get about four or five stitches but with all this ice...”
“I’m okay, though,” I replied to Cathy’s question. “They took good care of me, and Lynette did a great job of washing the blood out of my hair.”
“It was definitely fun,” Lynette fired off without really thinking of the consequences of her words.
“Washing his hair was fun? How?” Paul innocently inquired which caused Lynette to lift her hand up over her mouth like she didn’t mean to say anything. Her blushing face also added more fuel to the unintended fire her misguided words sparked.
When Lynette turned to me seeking my help with her sad ‘puppy-dog’ eyes, I simply said, “This one’s all on you, Volcano. Have at it, if you want.”
“But Miiike,” she whined while batting her beautiful eyes at me from her bike seat. “Please help!”
“What happened?” Paul again added.
“All you,” I reiterated to Lynette and waved my hands out in front of me in the universal ‘no, not me’ motion. “Tell them as much or as little, or nothing, if you want.”
“Come on, Lynette, give us a little crumb of what went on,” Cathy egged on my blushing girlfriend.
“Mike, please!” Lynette cried out one last time and I simply waved my right arm from her towards Paul and Cathy, who were lightly goading her on to spill the beans.
After giving me the ‘evil eye’ for not extricating her from this jam, Lynette snorted out, “Okay, I’ll share a bit of what made it fun this morning.” She then took a big breathe of the cool Canadian air and said, “This, this ... boyfriend of mine, had a good bit of blood in his hair and uh, I told his mother I’d help him wash it out, so he wouldn’t mess up the gash on his forehead. Then, uh, as I was washing his hair in the sink, he started to rub my bare leg and uh, up under the running shorts I slept in.”
“You didn’t?” Cathy exclaimed as she looked from Lynette to me.
We also heard a short, “Sweet!” from the male half of the McGregory twins.
I simply grinned and nodded affirmatively to Cathy’s short question. I was wondering how much more Lynette was going to say on this, so I looked over at her and gave her a wink to let her know I was good with whatever direction she wanted to take this story.
“So this guy here, reached up under your shorts as you were washing his hair at the sink? What else happened?” Cathy inquired as she scooted over a little closer to Lynette on her bicycle. “We won’t tell anyone, promise.”
For the first time in, like forever, Paul used some common sense and kept his mouth shut at the correct moment. He let his sister lobby Lynette for any extra details from our bathroom adventure. He simply ‘crossed his heart‘ with his right fingers when Lynette peered in his direction.
After sitting silently on my brother’s bike for about ten seconds, Lynette huffed out, “Okay, now ... well, this guy...” waving her hand at me as she spoke, “here, he...”
“The name is Mike,” I interjected.
That earned me a quick, sharp, “Shut up!” from Cathy, who then softly added, “Ignore him, Lynette.”
“Mike here, my boyfriend, who hasn’t learned how to get out of bed without smashing his head into the top bunk railing, yet,” Lynette fired off with a smile, “uh, as I was washing the blood from his hair, soon was rubbing his hand under my shorts, on my bare butt.” She took another deep breath of air, turned to me and winked before she continued, “His, uh, hand felt real good on my butt, and uh, also some other place, which felt really wonderful.”
“You didn’t? ... As she was washing your hair?” Cathy said once more to me as she quickly glanced between Lynette and me.
Again, I didn’t verbally reply to her queries. I simply smiled at them and raised an eyebrow when I looked at my best friend, Paul.
“He did, and uh, it was the most fun I ever had while washing someone else’s or my own hair. I had to bite on a towel to...” Lynette softly said as her face turned another shade of red.
“Michael,” Cathy said with false indignation in her voice. “Upstairs in your bathroom, you really could have gotten in big trouble, or given your parents an immediate reason to dislike Lynette ... if they found out. I guess your head injury kept you from thinking, huh?”
“He probably wasn’t thinking with that head, anyways,” Paul fired out.
“Paul!” his sister shouted at him.
“Enough. It’s all good,” I finally said as this story was starting to get out of hand. “We had some fun this morning in the bathroom, and we’re both here, alive and well, so let’s move on, shall we.”
The four of us rode around on our bikes for another fifteen minutes or so before Cathy said, “Too bad we don’t have our instruments here. We could have worked on a few things in our garage.”
“Who knew we’d be here together like this on a Sunday afternoon?” Lynette rhetorically replied. She then added, “So, uh, unless Samantha has a serious problem with us asking Jennifer about joining our band, are we in good with that decision?”
“That’s not a problem for me,” Paul replied and Cathy’s smile revealed her answer.
“Okay, then,” I said, “we’ll see about asking her when we get back to school. Then, the fun starts as we work through who will do what on each song we decide to play.”
“I’m happy just playing bass and maybe providing some backup vocals, if needed,” Paul quickly replied. “I have a few songs I’d like for us to play, but I’m good with whatever you guys want to play.”
“I’m the same way with my drums,” Cathy added, “If it works out, I’ll sing a few songs. But I’m good with letting you guys, or Sam or Jennifer sing.”
Lynette smiled at me because Paul and Cathy basically confirmed what I previously said to her about their demeanor and ownership of band type decisions. Both twins simply enjoyed playing music and weren’t interested in getting bogged down in territorial battles over band issues.
Lynette then said, “I have a few songs I’d like to sing, but I’m happy letting Mike and Samantha take on the lead vocals for most songs. We’ll have to see what Jennifer thinks and feels on this, should she join in with us. I’m okay if she wants to sing a few songs.”
I was happy hearing how well these three were able to share band ideas and enjoyed just listening to their banter. Lynette looked over at me and saw the contented smile on my face and asked, “And what are you thinking about all this, my good man?”
“I’m good with everything you’ve said about our band’s vocals. The fun stuff will be figuring out which songs we want to play. Will we play one basic style or will we mix things up with a selection of hard and soft rock? I’d also like to play some southern blues type music, like ZZTop and Lynyrd Skynyrd.”
“Your southern experiences are coming out, huh?” Paul said after I mentioned those two great southern bands.
“I’ve been ‘Southernized’ to some extent, no doubt,” I chuckled and heard the others laugh as well. “Now, don’t have a heart attack Paul, but there may be a ... country song or two that might appear on my request list, as well.”
“No way, get out of town!” my best friend huffed out at the mention of country music. “There is no way in God’s green earth that we’ll play any country crap up on stage.”
I could tell by the goofy grin that crept over his face that he wasn’t one-hundred percent serious with his words, but I knew it would probably take a good bit of arm twisting to get him at least half-way on board with playing a Garth Brooks, Shania Twain, Sammy Kershaw or Big and Rich type song. After a moment to let him either stew on his words or come to his senses, I jokingly said, “I’m sure we’ll be able to take a country song or two, and ‘rock-it-up’ a tiny bit. That way, we won’t see hell freeze over when Paulie McG plays an old school country song.” That lightened things up as I sensed Lynette was a little put off by my best friend’s harsh statement.
Changing the subject, much like the girls were marvelous at doing, I then said, “Um, another key decision for our band will be the mixture of cover songs and new songs that we might work on.”
“Being new,” Lynette said after a taking a moment to digest my statement, “won’t it benefit us to play more cover oriented songs, right off the bat? People have to get to know us, I would think, before we give them a higher dose of our own songs, right?”
“That makes sense to me,” Cathy quickly replied. “When I’ve gone to concerts or live performances, I enjoy hearing things I know. I still like completely new stuff, but...”
“I think Lynette hit it out of the ballpark,” Paul jumped in. “If we play cover songs well, folks will be more willing to give anything we create more of a chance. What say you, Mr. Mike?”
I tilted my head down and looked at the snow-ice covered ground for a few seconds before I said, “What you’re saying makes sense, and I think that is how most bands have built up their following. There are a ton of good songs out there that we can cover.” I then looked around at these three band members and added, “However, we played three new songs at our Friday night performance, Sam’s Alone, plus Right Now and Crazy Train. All of them were new to everyone, but the audience still acted crazy when we played them.”
All three of them stared at me as I related that to them. As I saw some acceptance in their faces, I added, “You may not have known this before Friday, but I immediately recognized Sam’s song, Alone, as being a future hit song by Anne and Nancy Wilson, you know ... Heart.”
That statement caused a few eyebrows to be raised, so after giving them a moment to digest what I just said, I tried to clarify things by asking, “Paul, Cathy, when we started to play along with Sammy and Lynette in class on Friday didn’t you guys get a funny feeling that the song was already in your mind somewhere? Remember, none of us other than you, Lynette, had seen the music or words to Sammy’s song, but we just KNEW how and when to play it, right?”
Both Paul and Cathy sat on their bike seats with puzzled looks on their faces. Lynette also seemed a little perplexed as I related that experience to them. Finally Cathy broke the silence with, “I uh, I did recognize that song from somewhere. I knew exactly how it went and how I should play it. It was the same way when we played Crazy Train to start off our little performance, or Don’t Stop to end it. I’d never played those songs before but I just...”
“I felt something like that, too,” Paul said, while Lynette simultaneously added, “God, Girl, you’re right!”
“I think...” I paused and looked at my three friends and band mates before continuing with my space-aged train of thought, “we, maybe anyone who hears our new, ‘before of their time songs‘, experience some type of unconscious or futuristic memory trace. That then makes our new songs like Alone or Right Now seem like old favorites, or songs people really want to hear from our band.”
I couldn’t tell if my friends understood what I was saying, so I gave them another moment to process my wild belief. When I saw a light flickering in their eyes, I added, “When we played those new, or from the future songs, last Friday, didn’t the crowd go nuts right from the start over them?”
All three of my band mates nodded in agreement to my statement, so I continued, “I can understand that reaction for a popular well known song, like Segar’s We’ve Got Tonight, but not for those unknown songs. Think about it; when we hear something new at a band’s concert, haven’t we all reacted like, ‘It is okay, but I came to hear your hit songs instead of your new stuff’?“
“I think I get your point,” Cathy replied. We both looked at Lynette and Paul for a moment before Cathy said, “You think any future songs, things you know from your past or uh, our future, that we decide to play will be somehow be viewed as a known or favorite song by people who hear them.”
“Exactly,” I shouted out to her as I slammed my right fist into my open left palm. Both Paul and Lynette appeared to follow my and Cathy’s train of thought, but I wanted to make sure they really grasped what I was telling them, so I said, “Let’s run into your house, and I’ll use your dad’s acoustic guitar to hopefully prove this crazy idea to all-y’all, and maybe your parents will unknowingly confirm this, too.”
“Come on,” Cathy said to everyone as she laid her bike down on the ice covered snow drift. We all quickly followed suit and gingerly hustled over the icy snow drifts to the McGregory’s back door. When we got inside, it was nice to feel the warmth, again, as we dropped our winter wear over the railing leading to their basement. Lynette started to pull her tennis shoes off when Cathy stopped her with, “You can leave your shoes on, girlfriend. It won’t hurt anything in our house.”
Paul had already hustled up the three steps to their main floor and yelled out, “Tom, Bertha, are you here? Can Mike use your acoustic guitar for a song or two?”
I saw the strange look on Lynette’s face as she listened to Paul’s shout, and said, “Their parents are good with them, and us, using their first names. If you’d rather use Mr. and Mrs., that’s fine, too.”
She smiled at me and nodded her understanding, and then followed Cathy up the few steps into their kitchen and dining room area.
“We’re back here, reading,” Bertha McGregory called out from their bedroom down the hall. “Tom’s guitar is here as well. Come get it, if you want.”
Paul had already rushed back to his parents’ bedroom, so I took Lynette’s hand in mine and said, “Come on, Lynette; let me introduce you to my second set of parents.”
When we stepped into Tom and Bertha’s bedroom I heard a familiar, “Hello, Mikey,” from Mrs. McGregory, who was sitting against the headboard of their queen sized bed. “And who is this lovely young lady?”
“Hi, Mikey,” Tom also said as he looked up from his book as he sat in a recliner in the corner of the room.
“Good afternoon, Mom2, Tom,” I said with a smile. “I’d like you to meet Miss Lynette Robertson, my new girlfriend...”
“And the keyboardist in our new band,” Cathy enthusiastically added.
“Lynette, these are Cathy and Paul’s parents, Tom and Bertha McGregory. Also known as Mom2 or my second set of parents.”
After the round of pleasantries was finished between Lynette, and Tom and Bertha, Cathy said to her parents, “Mike would like to play something on your guitar, and uh, we’d like your opinion on it. Would you mind coming out into the living room with us for a little bit, please?”
“Mikey’s going to play us a song? I can’t wait to hear it.” Bertha said as she closed up her hard back novel and set it on her night stand. Tom hunted for his bookmark on the table beside his recliner before he too, set his book down and followed us out to their living room area.
Paul handed me his dad’s acoustic guitar, and then laid down with his feet up against the heating vent in the living room. That was something we both liked doing at our homes after being outside on cool or cold winter days. Tom and Bertha sat in matching wing-chairs on opposite sides of their large bay window, while I sat with the guitar, between Lynette and Cathy on their leather couch.
I knew everyone here were big Eagles’ fans, so I decided to play a song they first recorded when they ended their extra-long vacation (Glen Frey’s words) in 1994. It was from their Hell Freezes Over reunion tour CD. That way, if anyone here recognized this future song, especially either Tom or Bertha, we’d know that songs from my former life’s past, would trigger some form of ‘future-memory‘ within our audiences.
I quickly strummed the six-string guitar and made a few string adjustments before I began to play, Love Will Keep Us Alive on Tom’s beautiful Yamaha guitar. I strummed out the soft gentle tune’s introduction and then sang:
“I was standing all alone against the world outside.
You were searching for a place to hide.
Lost and lonely, now you’ve given me the will to survive.
When we’re hungry, love will keep us alive.”
As I played and sang that first verse, I watched everyone and noticed that all three of my young friends had silently started to mouth the words along with me by the final line. Cathy had even started to lightly make the soft drumming motions with her hands as she obviously ‘heard‘ the complete song in her head. I was more amazed to see that Bertha was swaying to the music, and started to softly sang out the final line, ‘When we’re hungry, love will keep us alive‘ with me.
I continued playing as everyone in the living room appeared to recognize this 1994 song. I saw Tom mouth the words, ‘let it ride‘ along with me during that second verse. The real clincher for me was seeing Tom, a fairly accomplished guitar player himself, move his hands like he was playing an electric guitar to this future song. He actually moved his left hand like he was holding a metal slide, which Don Felder used as he played it at that Eagles’ concert.
When I looked at Lynette and Cathy beside me, they both saw the same thing I just did, and had huge grins on their faces. We all watched Tom and Bertha’s reaction to this future song like it was a late 1970s hit. As I ended the song, Paul was also grinning from ear to ear, and I knew he was onboard with my crazy ‘future-memory trace’ notion, too.
“That was a beautiful song, Mikey,” Bertha said with a smile. “I never realized before how good of a singer and guitar player you were. That song, the way you sung it ... well, you simply did an excellent job with it.”
“Do you have any other songs you can play for us,” Tom chimed in. “That was top notch, and I’d love to hear more, if you have something for us.”
“Thanks, Tom and Mom2,” I replied to their compliments. “I suppose I can play something else, if you’d like.”
“Please do,” Bertha quickly replied, while Cathy immediately followed with, “Yes, indeed.”
I turned to Lynette and whispered in her ear, “Do you mind if I play, The Flame for them?”
“Not at all,” she said out loud, “I’d love to hear you sing and play that complete song, too.”
I took a quick breath, smiled at Lynette and then began to lightly pick at the strings to create the opening sounds of that great Cheap Trick power ballad. I felt Lynette squeeze my left thigh as I started to sing this highly emotional and meaningful song for both of us. I really couldn’t look around the room as tears formed in my eyes when I sang the second verse of this song:
“Watching shadows move across the wall,
I feel so frightened.I wanna run to you, I wanna call,
But I’ve been hit by lightning.
Just can’t stand up for falling apart,
Can’t see through this veil across my heart, over you.
You’ll always be the one.
You were the first,
You’ll be the last.“
That verse really brought back powerful images of Kaleigh as she was swept away in the Energists’ travel conduit; back to Earth ... without me as I was claimed to help the Energists with their transition to a physical reality.
Everyone, even ‘I am rarely serious‘ Paul, had tears in their eyes when I finished playing that song. Based on the actions we saw as I played that Eagles’ song, and by everyone’s response to this Cheap Trick song, the four of us were pretty confident that my initial thesis was correct. If we played new or futuristic songs, it would trigger some type of neural, emotional response in people, who would have ultimately heard those songs years from now on their audio systems or at concerts.
The twins’ mom, Bertha finally broke the emotional silence in their living room by asking, “When did you pick up this awesome gift, this ability to play, sing and obviously write such beautiful music?”
“Yes, Mike,” Tom quickly added, “I knew you fiddled around on my guitar when Paul and Cathy were playing their instruments, but if I remember right, you were basically a two or three cord strummer. Heck, I don’t think I could have played those songs like you just did, especially having to sing them, too.”
I felt all five sets of eyes burning within me after hearing both Bertha’s question and Tom’s accurate assessment of my earlier guitar ability.
I knew I could trust my best friend to give me some surprisingly sage advice when Paul suggested, “Will it hurt to tell them? When you’re not with me or us,” and he pointed to the two girls’ flanking me on the couch, “what you’ve shared with me never enters my mind, even when I was using the gift you gave me as I practice by myself.”
“Go ahead, Mike,” Cathy softly said as she squeezed my right leg. When I glanced at Lynette, she smiled and gave me a cute little head bob.
“Tell us what, Mikey?” Bertha asked as she moved to the edge of her wing-chair.
“Okay,” I softly said as I looked down at the beautiful sandal wood guitar in my hands.
It took about ten minutes for me to share my incredible story with my ‘second set’ of parents, as Paul and I spent about equal time in each other’s house growing up. Both Tom and Bertha looked pensive at the start but when I had my computing device materialize in front of them and showed them their future new house in north London, off Windemere Road, they experienced that same ‘future-memory’ response like they did with that music.
“We ARE going to live in that house,” Bertha exclaimed as she looked at the pictures of their ‘1989’ brick house. “That’s the fireplace I’ve always wanted, and look, there’s the hanging pots and pans holder, above my granite cooking island.”
“So, Mike,” Tom finally chimed in after he and his wife had settled back into their wing chairs. “You’re sixteen again, but uh, you have all your memories, and with that thing there ... all the information on things up to February, 2003? Goodness me, that is unbelievable.”
“It is unbelievable but it’s true,” I replied and silently asked my computing device to disappear, which once more amazed the adults in the living room. “These three, plus a couple of other friends know all this, but as Paul said earlier; you won’t be able to recall or share any of this, unless I’m around and, uh, allow you to talk about it. That’s for everyone’s protection, especially my own.”
“Have you told your parents, yet?” Bertha pensively asked.
“Not yet,” I replied. I could easily tell that both Tom and Bertha wanted to ask, ‘Why not?‘ as I sat on the couch. “I’m not sure what good it will do for them to know that I was/am a forty-year-old adult with those memories, but live within a sixteen-year-old body while redoing high school. Would they treat me as an adult or a teenager? Would I be allowed to do things because I have a wealth of knowledge and experiences, while also thinking I’m still a kid? I’m just not sure it would benefit them to know all of this.”
“But they wouldn’t be able to access that information unless you were around them,” Bertha interjected. Then she put on her ‘real mother’s cap‘ and said, “I’d want to know if something like that happened to Paul or Cathy. Don’t you owe it to them ... to be completely honest with them?”
Trish
- 05.12.2022
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