Chapter 12: Changes

'm screwed now.

The was the single thought that came to mind, as the realization hit that the last Chapter had not gone according to plan. The captain was no longer in control, all the guide ropes had effectively been cut, and the ship pushed off into uncharted waters.

Brad kept a fixed stare at Eva the Recycle Babe, who lasered the look right back at him. Off to the left, over and below the unnervingly close razor-edge of Shiprock's summit, came NiteShade's dimly-echoing contralto "WOOO-HOO-hoo-hoo-hoooooooo," like the sound Goofy makes when he would fall off the top floor of his apartment building. Within a matter of seconds, the whoop faded and became inaudible under the crackling-flame flutter of the Saran Wrap's loose end as it trailed after NiteShade like a pink contrail; then it, too, was gone.

Seriously screwed.

Eva watched them with an unflinching gaze as she quietly began singing a chantway complex, the first unit of the Chiricahua Windway. The sound was hypnotic.

"Okay, Mister 'I-read-Chapter-Nine-And-I-Know-What's-Gonna-Happen-Next' Flexmeister, what do we do now?" Alicia was getting agitated, as was Glenn: "Yeah, Brad. 'Go up,' you said. Fine, we went up. Now it appears NiteShade beat us down. Well, we're up to Chapter Twelve, and we're going to die here, aren't we? WHAT HAPPENS IN CHAPTER TWELVE, BRAD?!" Jordan paced behind the group, muttering about standards of conduct and contributory negligence. Some of the Monkeeheads in the back of the group were attempting to put together some money that they could offer Eva to get her to wrap up Jordy next.

Eva paused in her chanting, and spoke. "Nu'u beez?"

Glenn swung to look at Eva. "Newbies? Yeah, we got those." Mike, Mary Ann, and Teresa were instantly hustled front and center. Everybody else took four steps back, which was unfortunate for Nathan, who was two steps from the edge.

With the sound of Nathan's "WOOO-HOO-hoo-hoo-hoooooooo," Eva's gaze was now fixed on the three new additions. Mike, realizing the place that newbies occupy on the food chain, decided that here was an opportunity for instant acceptance. He dropped to his knees in an attempt to show deference to the Recycle Babe, and motioned Theresa and Mary Ann to do likewise.

Trying furiously to remember how western-movie settlers appeased western-movie Indians in the old John Fords, he pointed to the group cowering behind them, then pointed at the three of them, and did the best imitation of Navajo that he could muster up. "Beegashii," he said, and then threw in an extra glottal stop, just to be on the safe side.

Eva the Recycle Babe blinked once, twice, then broke into hysterical laughter.

"Well, you don't LOOK like cows!"

Alicia stepped forward. "Y-y-you speak English?"

Eva chuckled. "Well, DUH!"

"...on the east bank of the flats with the hottest entertainment allowed by law. Sure beats burger in a bag."

"Pat Brogan, NewsRadio eleven hundred, Three-W-E. We're back now with more on the downtown situation. We go live now to CBS correspondent Tom Brokaw on the scene. Tom?"

"Pat, we've just gotten confirmation from the mayor's office, about ten minutes ago, that these animals are indeed - as rumored - somehow connected to the arrival in town, a short time ago, of -- I believe they're being called "Monkeeheads." These "Monkeeheads" are a group of fans of "The Monkees," a television show that many of you will recall was on NBC in the late sixties. At this moment state police are questioning witnesses at a series of convenience stores along Route 70; sources are quoted as saying that the Monkeeheads had been traveling to the Cleveland area in a string of vehicles, numbering perhaps twenty, stopping at convenience stores to buy Snapple. Cantaloupe Cocktail, as I understand."

"Tom, do the police know the whereabouts of these 'Monkeeheads'?"

"I've gotten no word of that yet."

"Have the police detailed the association between the Monkeeheads and this stampede?"

"Well, Pat, first, it's not a stampede. It's more of a ...peaceful gathering. The animals would be controllable, if it weren't for their sheer numbers. They're no longer here at Tower Square, though, they seem to have all moved on towards the stadium area. As for the connection, no, there's been no formal word yet. However, unofficially, the general public has accepted the rumors with open arms. I don't know if you can hear this, but Monkees songs are being played through open windows throughout the downtown area. A few moments ago I spoke with a man here on the steps of the Tower Building:"

"Where the hell am I? Where's the Denny's? And what happened to my tape???" "Sir, can you tell me your impression of the Monkees?" "What? The Monkees? Yeah, okay, um, how's this: it seems that while everybody seems to enjoy 'making fun' of the Monkees as the artificial Pre-Fab Four, it appears to me that everybody seems to own at least one of their records."

"Thank you, Tom. We'll be back with Tom Brokaw in just a few minutes, but we have now on the line with us from Paris, Mike Nesmith, Micky Dolenz, Peter Tork and Davy Jones, the actors who originally portrayed The Monkees. Hello, and thank you for joining us."

"Hello, Pat."

"I'd like to ask you a few questions for our listeners, the first thing, of course, people would like to know, is do you have any connection with the events here in Cleveland?"

"No, of course not. Our first knowledge of it, the first indication, came to us only about fifteen minutes ago, and I -- we -- can tell you, you probably know more about what's going on than we do. There's not much about it on the news here."

"Well, here in the United States -- and certainly here in Cleveland -- this invasion of the animals has quickly become the number-one topic of conversation. Micky, your names are in the public eye now perhaps to a greater degree than at any time since the television show in 1968, directly as a result of these animals... They've certainly brought attention back to your music."

"We've always had a -- a good relationship with cows."

"Well, I can tell you that your records are being played, and have been played, really, continually on most of the radio stations here since it was announced that this 'Animal Woodstock" appeared to be caused by fans of your music."

"We're pretty proud of the songs we've done. It's nice to know that people have gotten over that whole business of us being a manufactured group, I think that's been rehashed so many times now. I mean, yeah, it was a TV show, but after the very first beginnings, it was us, so the argument had no validity. It's nice to be vindicated."

"Well, you have been vindicated. Peter, do you have any response to the public move that's been gaining momentum this afternoon to have the Monkees inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?"

Silence.

"Excuse me, Pat, could you repeat that?"

"One moment, please. If you're just tuning in, this is Pat Brogan for Three-W-E, NewsRadio eleven hundred, Cleveland. We're speaking now with the members of the rock group The Monkees about the ongoing 'Miracle By The Lake', as it's now being called..."

Melhi and Heath, unaware of the gaining momentum of the storm circling around them, were window shopping.

They had lost sight of the rest of the Monkeeheads and were actually pretty relieved to finally be spending some time together as they strolled down the side street, looking into the stores. It was odd that the shops were all closed, and they guessed that it had something to do with the helicopters circling overhead and the police sirens wailing in the distance. Still, it was nice. They'll meet up with everybody later, at the Hall of Fame, Mel thought. She smiled to herself.

For now, she thought, let's enjoy the interlude.

"That store looks open," Heath said, as he motioned at a small shop two-thirds of the way down the block. As they approached the store, a small hand-lettered sign became visible beneath the fading yellow awning: "Needful Things West." On the door, another small sign read "Open." A tall, gaunt-looking man, the proprietor, stood in the entryway.

"I have something for you," he said.