Peter closed the oven door. He had a wide smile on his face. The turkey was coming along beautifully! Usually his skills in the kitchen left something to be desired, to put it mildly, but this time everything was coming into place. He had poured over several cookbooks and recipes and made double sure he had everything he needed, and studied the directions until he could recite them in his sleep. The guys would be proud of him!
Mitch slowly walked along the beach, head down. He did this pretty often, hoping to find some coins or maybe a watch he could hawk for money. Yesterday he had found almost a dollar in coins, enough to buy some crackers so he and Johnny could get rid of their constant hunger-at least for awhile. Today, however, he hadn't found a thing- not even a penny. Why weren't there too many people on the beach today? Mitch stopped and looked up at all the beach houses, feeling a little jealous and angry. Must be nice to have money and have the beach as your back yard. He pulled his tattered coat around him a little tighter-it was chilly out today, though Mitch had no idea what day it was-then stopped and smelled the air. Instead of the ocean breeze he smelled something he hadn't tasted in a long, long, time: Turkey.
Then it dawned on him why the beach was almost deserted: It was Thanksgiving Day! Everybody was home cooking their turkeys, having friends over, talking, laughing, being thankful...Mitch hung his head. He and Johnny had nothing to be thankful for and it was all his fault. Mitch was about to go back to his shelter on the beach when the aroma of turkey caught him again. He decided to get some turkey for himself and Johnny. Why not? Surely the people living in these beach houses could afford another one. Slowly, he began to walk over to the back of the beach house where he thought the aroma was coming from.
~~~~~~~~~
"How's the turkey comin' Pete?" Asked Mike, sitting in the living room strumming his guitar.
"Just great Mike!" Peter beamed, "It'll be done pretty soon, and we can eat! When's Micky and Davy coming back?"
"Soon, I hope." Mike replied, taking his guitar off his neck, "They're at Micky's Mom's house having a bite to eat, then they'll be home."
"Why didn't you go too?" Peter asked, "You were invited."
"So were you, shotgun." Mike smiled.
Peter looked down. "I had too many Thanksgivings at other people's houses when I was growing up. My Dad was in the army and moved around a lot. We were always having Thanksgiving with other people and many times I wished it would be just my family...and I had to get our own turkey ready." Peter added as an afterthought.
Mike smiled at his friend. Peter was such a gentle soul. That sometimes got him into trouble, but Mike had taken on a big-brother sort of relationship with Peter, and told Pete he was always there for him.
"Well?" Mike said kindly, "I guess the four of us are like family now."
"Yeah, that's true..." Peter replied, nodding his head. "Well, why didn't you go with Micky and Davy?"
Mike slowly stood up, figuring out what to say to Peter. He took off his wool hat and laid it on top of the couch, stalling for time.
"I...I'm not much for large gatherings, Pete." He said finally, "Micky's got three younger sisters so his Mom's house is jammed right now. It would remind me of when my Mom and I would usually go over to her parents' house for Thanksgiving. I was an only child and my parents had divorced when I was little, so I definitely felt left out with all my cousins and their siblings who still had both parents. But, money was tight, so we had little choice but to go their house every year. That's why I'm glad we're able to afford a little something just for ourselves this year."
Mike didn't mention the times he and his Mom had nothing to eat for Thanksgiving.
Peter patted Mike on the shoulder. "I'm sorry Mike...but you're like a big brother to me. The four of us really are like a family to each other."
Mike smiled. "Thanks Pete." He said, mussing up Peter's blond hair a little. "I think I'll take a shower before we eat."
With that he walked up the spiral staircase and went into the second floor bathroom.
Peter sighed and walked back into the kitchen. He didn't see Mitch standing outside the back door waiting for an opportunity for Peter to be alone.
Mitch watched as the tall man walked up the staircase, then looked through the window to see if anybody else was inside the living room. It seemed empty. Since he couldn't hear what the two men were talking about, he didn't know if anybody else lived in the house. Still, that turkey smelled too good to pass up! He knew it was wrong to steal, but he was too hungry to care. With luck he'd be gone before anybody could go after him. Silently, he opened the back door and crept inside. The blond man had his back to him, stirring something in a pot. Mitch grabbed the wool hat he had seen the tall man put down and snuck behind Peter.
Quick as a flash, Mitch put the wool hat on Peter's head and pulled it down over his face as far as it would go. He grabbed Peter's arms and pushed him into the bedroom that was near the kitchen, then shut and locked the door. Running over to the oven, Mitch grabbed some potholders, opened the oven and, using the potholders, grabbed the small turkey from the pan. He took off as fast as his feet could carry him, the sound of Peter pounding on the door, demanding to be let out ringing in his ears.
Peter pounded on the door again. "C'mon, Mike, let me out! The gravy will boil over!"
He thought Mike was playing a joke on him, since it was Mike's hat that had covered his face. The door stayed locked.
Peter was getting upset. Why would Mike do this? Did he upset Mike somehow?
Peter leaned against the door...only to fall on the floor as it suddenly opened. Instead of Mike standing there, however, it was a confused Micky and Davy.
"Peter, I thought you were watching the turkey?" Davy asked.
"I was, but Mike put his hat down on my face and locked me in here!"Peter said picking himself off the floor.
"Mike is upstairs taking a shower." Micky replied, looking confused. "I can hear the water running."
"Well, one of you two did it then." Peter said.
"Not us, mate," Davy said, "We just got back from Micky's Mom's place."
Yeah, Pete, you missed all that food..." Micky began.
"What's all the commotion down there?" Mike, wearing a robe, called from the top of the stairs.
"Did you lock Peter in his bedroom?" Davy asked.
"Why would I do that?" Mike asked, puzzled, "Besides, I was taking a shower."
"Well someone pulled your wool hat over my face and locked me in the bedroom." Peter replied as he walked over to the oven to check on the turkey.
He opened the oven door...and almost fainted. The turkey was gone!
"Guys..." Peter said quietly. "The turkey..."
Micky and Davy joined Peter at the oven.
"What about it?" Micky asked, peering inside, "Oh no! NO TURKEY!!" He shouted.
"What?" Mike said, running down the steps and over to the oven.
"Someone stole our Thanksgiving day turkey!" Davy shouted.
Mike took a look inside too. There was a pan inside, but no turkey.
Peter began to cry. All his hard work for nothing! "I'm sorry guys!"
"It wasn't your fault, Pete." Davy said. "Someone pretty low had to have done this."
"Man, why would someone do something like this?!" Micky said angrily.
Mike looked at the floor, remembering the times he stole things from the local grocer because he had had nothing to eat. He looked at the others.
"I think I might know why fellas." Mike remarked.
There was something in Mike's manner that made everyone stop and look at him. Even Peter stopped crying and dried his eyes.
Mike took a breath.
"Maybe that person was hungry." He said quietly.
The four men simply looked at each other. They hadn't considered that there were other people who might not have anything to eat today.
Mitch ran with the hot turkey as fast as he could back to the shelter he shared with Johnny. He ran along the water line, so that the waves would cover his tracks in case anybody decided to follow him. Finally he came to a pile of rocks along the shore and climbed over them. There was a small opening between the rocks that led to a small cave inside. It was the perfect place to live. Unfortunately, Mitch didn't look to see if anybody else was on the beach nearby.
"Johnny?" Mitch called quietly as he came into the cave.
"Dad?" Johnny, a boy of about ten, said as he poked his head our from behind a rock. "Did you get anything?" He asked anxiously.
"Oh boy, did I son!" Mitch said excitedly. "I got us a turkey! It's Thanksgiving day today!"
"WOW!" Johnny yelled. The turkey didn't look too big, but it would be enough for the two of them.
"There's enough for both of us!" Johnny's voice grew soft. "Even for Mom, if she was here..."
"I know, Johnny, I miss her too." Mitch said softly, "She probably eats turkey every day in heaven."
Mitch and Johnny sat down on some rocks. Mitch balanced the turkey laying on the potholders on his knees and was about to rip off a leg to give to Johnny when a shadow appeared at the front of their hideout.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Micky, Peter, Davy and a now-dressed Mike stood on the beach wondering which way the turkey thief went.
The thief could've gone anywhere!" Davy exclaimed.
"Wait, look!" Mike exclaimed. "There's some footprints leading from our pad!"
The four men followed the prints down the beach, with Micky leaning forward, holding an imaginary magnifying glass to his eye. The footprints went on for a little while, then suddenly moved over to the water line, where they disappeared.
"It seems, Dr. Watson, that our thief is trying to hide his trail." Micky said in a terrible British accent. Davy, an Englishman, just rolled his eyes.
"Well, now what?" Peter asked.
Mike simply kept on walking toward the pile of rocks on the far side of the beach. He didn't know if the others knew it or not, but there was a small cave inside those rocks. Mike would sometimes go inside there to work on a song, or just to be alone. The others followed his lead.
Mitch and Johnny quickly stood up when they saw the shadow. Mitch handed the turkey to Johnny and place the boy behind him.
"Who's there?" Mitch asked, "What do you want?" In answer, four men barged into the small cave. They were wearing swimming trunks, T-shirts and crew cuts. They were local college boys who were home for the holidays; rich kids with nothing better to do than roam the beach looking for trouble.
Well, well, what do we have here?" The first man that had entered said. "Homeless scum? On our nice beach?"
"We're not bothering you!" Mitch replied, "Besides, this is a public beach!"
"Oh, the homeless scumbag's getting smart with us?!" The second man asked nastily. "Why don't we show them what we do with scum that talks back to their betters, Jim?"
"Sure, Drake," Jim answered, "But let's take that turkey they no doubt stole from someone and give it to someone more deserving: like us!"
The other men laughed at that. They had turkey to eat of their own, but since they (or rather their parents) had money, they had contempt for those they thought were beneath them.
Mitch pushed Johnny back behind him. "Please, it's all we've had to eat in a long time."
"Should've thought of that before you came onto OUR nice beach!" Jim replied as he and his gang moved on Mitch and Johnny. Suddenly, everybody heard soft, feminine laughter coming from outside the cave.
"Helloo...is anybody in there?" A female voice said, laughing.
"Go see who that is, Paul." Jim said to the man closest to the cave entrance. Paul climbed through the opening of the cave to the outside.
"Now where were we..." Jim said to Mitch and Johnny.
"Please don't hurt my dad!" Johnny said crying.
"Yoo hoo...anybody in there?" The female voice said again.
"I thought Paul took care of whoever that was!" Jim said angrily. "George, go help Paul!"
George climbed through the opening after Paul, leaving only Jim and Drake with Mitch and Johnny.
Mitch raised his fists. "You're not taking our food!" He yelled at Jim.
Jim laughed and pulled out his switchblade. Once again, anything he was going to say was interrupted by the woman outside the cave.
"Please, baby, come out here!" The female voice said seductively.
"What's going on?" Jim yelled. "Can't two men handle one woman? Drake, go see what's going on out there!"
Drake climbed out of the cave, leaving Jim alone with Mitch and Johnny. Mitch was thinking fast. The odds were much better now, even though Jim had a knife. Mitch fell to one knee.
"Please sir!" Mitch begged, putting his hands in the dirt. "Don't hurt us!"
Jim smiled evilly. He liked having people beg him. Made him feel special. Suddenly, Mitch brought up two handfuls of dirt and threw them into Jim's face. Stunned, Jim dropped his knife and brought his hands to his face. Mitch took advantage of the distraction to shove Jim out of the cave.
"Stay here Johnny!" Mitch ordered.
He would take care of Jim better outside where there was room. When Mitch got outside however, he realized he wouldn't have to do anything at all. Jim was in the process of being buried up to his chest in sand like his buddies.
They all had gags in their mouths. Standing around them were four other men, one of whom he recognized as the man he locked in the room at his house. This man spoke to Mitch.
"Are there any others, sir?" He asked. Mitch slowly shook his head. What was going on?
"Oh good!" The man with the wool hat said in a high pitched, feminine voice said. "I was getting tired of talking like this." He finished in a deeper voice. "Are you OK?"
"Ye..yes, I'm fine." Mitch replied. "How did you guys find me? I thought I had covered my tracks."
"Nothing gets past Micky's nose, especially food!" Davy laughed. "We followed the scent, heard what was happening, and laid a trap for Jimmy boy and his friends. They fell into this nice hole we just happened to have dug and buried them."
"Is it safe to come out now?" Johnny called out.
"Yes, Johnny come on out." Mitch replied. Johnny came out, holding the turkey. Mitch took it from him and stepped over to Peter.
"Um, here's your turkey back. I'm sorry I stole it from you." Mitch said with tears in his eyes as he handed it back to Peter. "My name is Mitch Garber and this is my son Johnny. We haven't had much to eat recently so when I smelled your turkey, well...." Mitch looked down in the sand, embarrassed.
Just then, running along the sand towards them was Mr. Babbit with several police officers.
"Hi fellows, I see you've caught this bum!" Babbit said pointing at Mitch. "I saw him snooping around the area and called the police."
"He didn't do anything, Mr. Babbit." Mike said, and then pointed to Jim and his goons still buried in the sand. "Jim Anderson and his friends were harassing this guy and his son because they were homeless."
"Jimmy, I'm shocked!" Babbit said to Jim. "Your parents are going to be very mad!"
The police dug Jim and his buddies out of the sand and took them away. One of the police officers walked over to the Monkees.
"What about him?" The officer said, pointing to Mitch.
"He's a friend of ours, officer." Peter said, "He didn't do anything wrong."
The Monkees looked at Babbit, hoping he'd go along. Babbit looked at the Monkees and then at Mitch. Finally he nodded.
"Yeah, he's OK, I won't file any charges."
The policeman and Babbit walked away.
Mitch was shocked at this turn of events.
"You're not going to have me arrested?"
"For what? Being homeless?" Mike replied. "Come on back to our pad, Mitch and Johnny, for some Thanksgiving turkey!"
"Thank you, thank you very much!" Mitch said.
The Monkees, Mitch and Johnny walked back to the pad. One the way there, Mitch told them how he had arrived at his circumstances.
"I was a carpenter and handyman." Mitch began, "Then one day my wife died in a car accident. I loved her very much and it tore me apart when she died. I took to drinking and it wasn't long before I lost my job. I spent what money I had on booze and soon Johnny and I became homeless. When my wife's family threatened to take Johnny away from me I realized I needed help. I joined AA and sobered up, but my reputation was trashed and no one would hire me. The beach was the only place I could find for us to live."
The four men shook their heads at the story, especially Mike. He remembered how his Dad drank and he and his Mom had to move from place to place, often one step ahead of the rent collectors.
They all went inside the pad and Peter warmed up the turkey again. Mike looked over at young Johnny. The boy had dark hair and eyes that had seen a lot of pain in his young life. Mike could see himself a little in the boy. He didn't want to see Johnny moving around like he had to. Suddenly, he had an idea.
"Hey, doesn't Babbit need a handyman?" Mike asked.
"You're right, he does!" Micky replied. "Lots of things need fixing up in this pad and the other homes Babbit rents out."
"We'll talk to Babbit in the morning." Mike said to Mitch, "Maybe he can give you a chance."
"You'd do that for a thief?" Mitch asked, shocked. Peter brought the turkey over to the table.
"No, we'd do it for a friend." Mike replied, smiling, "Right now, though, let's eat!"
"Yeah!" Everyone said and dug into the delicious food Peter made.