Tippy glanced down at her Oriental salad, picked up her fork and carefully speared a piece of lettuce.
Looking around her, she saw Nancy and Jean eating their hamburgers and laughing as Davy retold the “Salad Story”, although it was a bit different from their real-life counterpart’s version.
Everybody was having a great time. And so was Tippy, until yesterday.
Glancing next to her, she saw Peter take a bite of his own salad and smile sweetly at her.
It was almost too unreal.
“He’s everything you want. He’s everything you need. He’s everything inside of you that you wish you could be. He says all the right things and at all the right times. But, he means nothing to you and you don’t know why.”
The song that was playing in Tippy’s head was one she had heard not too long ago in the real world.
She didn’t remember actually liking it, but for some reason, it kind of fit how she was feeling at this particular time.
“Whoa,” Davy exclaimed, breaking out of his story. “What in the world was that?”
“What,” Tippy asked, eating a bit more salad.
“That was strange sounding song,” Peter remarked, sipping his soda.
“What song,” Tippy asked, looking around the restaurant. There wasn’t even a jukebox at the burger joint they were at. Nobody was playing a radio. What were they hearing?
“Something about being everything to somebody,” Micky said, blowing his straw paper at Davy. “It was kinda loud.”
This was met with Jean and Nancy exchanging wide-eyed looks with Tippy.
“You mean you heard that,” Tippy asked, amazed.
“Yea,” Davy said, “must have been some kinda mistake with the music.”
“Oh wow,” Jean said, “I heard it too.”
“Me too,” Nancy exclaimed.
“Um,” Tippy said, turning red, “we gotta go to the ladies room.”
“No we don’t,” Jean said, not wanting to leave Davy’s side, as Tippy motioned for the girls to follow her out of the booth.
Tippy gave Jean a look that said it all. Wordlessly the girls dashed to the Small bathroom.
“Geesh,” Micky said, putting down his chocolate shake as the ladies brushed by him, “how many girls does it take to go to the bathroom?”
“This has to be another television effect,” Nancy said after Tippy finished an astonished ramble about what happened at the table.
“Why didn’t we notice this before,” Jean asked, checking her hair in the mirror.
“I guess I always thought that whatever song was playing was going through my head. Like in my imagination,” Tippy confessed.
“But,” Nancy finished, “it was going through somebody else’s head.”
“I know,” Jean said, “that night when Davy and I were on the porch, ‘Sweet Young Thing’ started playing, but I just thought it was in my head. Maybe Davy was thinking about it!”
“I always thought it was funny on some comedy programs when music came on, the characters would say, ‘Hey, where’s that music coming from?’,” Nancy laughed.
“I think we never noticed before because all the songs everybody has been thinking of have been 60’s songs, so the guys never even noticed,” Jean said.
“Me too,” Tippy said, adjusting her white peasant shirt, “I guess we just have to be more careful about our own ‘soundtrack’ thinking. We don’t want to scare them with some modern music!”
“I wonder why we never heard more than one song at once,” Jean wondered aloud.
“Well,” Nancy guessed, “probably because on television, you always hear one song. Probably the song that fits the main focus of that show’s situation. I guess the songs we heard were the ones with the most interesting plot at the time.”
“Hmm,” Tippy thought out loud, “I guess that’s why I heard ‘Hey Mickey’ the other morning.”
“No,” Nancy said, blushing, “that was all me.”
“Just one more question,” Jean asked, wiping some French fry crumbs off her blue blouse as the girls left the restroom.
“Yea, what’s that,” Tippy asked.
“Why was that song running through your head?”
Meanwhile, in the real world…
“Hop in everybody,” Metty said, unlocking her red Neon that morning. “And keep your eyes peeled for that robot.”
“Oh, I hope we find it before it does something bad,” Tiff worried from the back seat, next to Connie.
“Me too,” Connie agreed.
“You know,” Metty mused as she turned the corner, “that robot kinda looked like one of the girls with the others when we saw them on TV last night.”
“Probably just a coincidence,” Tiff said.
“If I were a robot,” Linds said, looking out of the passenger window, “where would I go?”
“Hmm,” Tiff began to suggest, “an electricity company?”
“A computer store,” Linds suggested.
“How about a library,” Metty added, driving down Grand Ave.
“Nah,” Connie disagreed, “why would a robot be at a libr..”
Connie was cut off by Linds shouting, “It’s over there!”
Crossing the street near the library, the robot Desy looked right and left, then took of in a limping trot after it made eye contact with the ladies in the red Neon.
“Did you guys hear that,” Rose asked, looking up from her book.
“Hear what,” Mike returned, glancing up from his pad of paper where he had been scribbling the lyrics to the song he had been working on.
“Maybe it was just me,” Rose said quietly, getting back to her book.
Rose shivered, she could have sworn she heard a thump of some kind from the roof.
“You okay,” Desy asked, resting her pencil for a moment.
“Yea,” Rose said, with a shrug, “I guess I was just hearing things.”
“Everything come out okay,” Micky asked with a laugh as the girls returned to the table.
“Ha ha,” Tippy said, rolling her eyes as she returned to her seat.
“Well,” Davy said, pushing his plate away and patting his stomach, “that was a lovely meal.”
“What should we do with the rest of this lovely afternoon,” Micky asked, putting an arm around Nancy, who nearly melted, but managed to stay in an acceptable form of consciousness.
“Why don’t we go for a walk in the garden,” Peter suggested, smiling at Tippy.
“That could be fun,” Davy said, turning to smile at Jean, who sighed and leaned her head on her palm.
“The garden,” Tippy asked.
“It’s a really nice place,” Peter said, as the group began to get up and leave. “Flowers everywhere.”
“Oh,” Tippy said, taking the offer as Peter opened the door and let her walk through first.
“And it’s very romantic too,” Micky commented, nudging Davy, who uncharacteristically rolled his eyes and playfully shoved Micky.
As they got to the car, Tippy felt her salad turn into a rock inside her stomach.
Shaking off the feeling, she hopped in the passenger seat, only to see Micky dangling the keys in front of her face.
“Oooh,” the female alien said, scrambling back from her place of listening to the conversation going on inside the Monkees’ Pad, “why did you have to drop the monitor on their roof.”
“Well,” the male said, “you were the one complaining about reception.”
“Forget it,” she said, “the one called Rose heard you drop it, you imbecile!”
“Let’s get rid of her now,” the male suggested, rubbing his hands excitedly together.
“No,” the female said, “the one called Mike is there, and that Desy. For some reason, I just get a feeling that if we go in there now, there will be more to deal with than just him.”
“We must go back to the home planet to get the components to fix the monitor, or we can’t watch any of them,” the male complained.
“Yes,” the female said, “we have to find out what happened to our robot Desy, before it goes and spills our plans.”
Suddenly a small light began to blink on the robot monitor from inside the spaceship.
“Something tells me it’s trying to find us,” the male said, walking into the spaceship.
“Oooh, I like this song, turn it up,” Jean exclaimed as “These Boots” by Nancy Sanatra came on the radio.
“You never did buy those boots, did you Tippy,” Nancy asked, leaning forward from her place next to Micky in the middle back seat.
“Nope,” she said with a laugh, turning the corner.
“The attack of the fifty foot woman,” Micky screamed.
Raising one eyebrow, Tippy gave Micky a look in the rearview mirror.
“Anyway,” Tippy began, “thanks for letting me drive guys.”
Driving the Monkeemobile made her feel a bit better, but didn’t fully suppress the anxiousness she felt about the forthcoming confrontation with reality.
“You sound so surprised that anybody would let you,” Peter said, who had called shotgun.
“Yea,” Micky teased, “is there something we should know?”
“Well, I’m used to my friends teasing me because I’m such a careful driver,” Tippy revealed, looking over her shoulder and signaling to change lanes. “And I’m not too good with newer cars.”
“Newer ca’s,” Davy asked from the very back seat next to a smiling Jean.
“Yea,” Tippy confessed, “my car is an 1984 Olds. It’s a ‘grampa’ car, as I call it, but it’s a dependable one.”
“Sounds like a new car to me,” Peter said with a chuckle.
“Well, it’s okay,” Tippy said, “but my friend has this 1999 sports car and one night, while being silly and sowing some wild oats, we decided to do a Chinese Fire Drill.”
“What’s that,” Jean asked, still grooving to “These Boots”.
“Well,” Tippy explained, “while you’re stopped at a red light, everybody gets out of the car and switches places.”
“Sounds dangerous,” Peter said.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Tippy said, “but the next thing I knew, Mindy was out of the drivers seat, running in front of the car and I had no choice but to get out and drive the car.”
“What happened then,” Nancy asked.
“Well,” Tippy continued, her face reddening, “when the light turned green, I sped off. When I tried to get ready to make a turn, there were so many buttons and knobs on this car; I ended up turning the windshield wipers on…and headlights off. It was about 10:30 at night.”
All around the Monkeemobile the friends exploded in laughter.
“I never knew you were such a daredevil,” Nancy remarked when the laughing subsided.
“Ha ha,” Tippy remarked, “there’s a lot people don’t know about me.”
“Oh really,” Micky asked in a false snooty accent.”
“Yes,” Tippy said, signaling to turn where Peter pointed, “I’ve got to leave some sort of air of mystery about me.”
“Cool with me,” Peter said, smiling at her.
Tippy lowered her head and blushed.
“We’re here,” Davy said, as Tippy stopped the Monkeemobile in the parking lot of the garden park.
“Oh wow,” Jean whispered as the group walked through the garden gates, “this is so cool.”
Looking down, Tippy noticed her clothing had changed from her white peasant blouse and jean bell-bottoms to a red and pink dress with a hood.
Jean and Nancy’s clothing had changed as well.
Jean was wearing a tan and brown skirt and top ensemble with black boots. While Nancy wore a one piece, blue catsuit with buckles adorning the outfit.
Even the guys had different clothes on.
Everybody looked exactly like the garden scene in “Monkees In Paris”.
“Must be more of that television magic,” Nancy whispered to Tippy and Jean as Micky took her hand and led her away.
“I’ll take it,” Jean whispered back as Davy pulled her over to look at some pink roses.
“Shall we go,” Peter asked, reaching out to take Tippy’s hand.
“Sure,” Tippy said, her answer coming out in a squeak.
Everything went nearly the exact same way as Tippy remembered the episode going. Even “Don’t Call On Me” began to play.
Soon, the group broke off into couples.
Wandering through the garden, Peter stopped at a lilac bush, picked a flower and handed it to Tippy after smelling the fragrance.
Taking the flower in her hand, Tippy willed herself not to cry.
“What’s wrong,” Peter asked as she bent her head.
“You’re making this really hard,” Tippy said, looking at him again. They were the same height. It was difficult to avoid his gaze.
“What,” Peter asked, leading her to a bench where the two sat.
“I’m just gonna come out and say it,” Tippy said with a sigh, reaching back and pulling the hood down off her head. “Peter, this is just way too unreal for me.”
“Unreal,” Peter questioned.
“Yeah,” she said, “I mean, it’s just like my stories. I always thought I’d be the happiest person on earth if we were together, but it’s like the worst I suspected, it’s just been a crush.”
Peter slumped down in the bench.
“I’m sorry,” Tippy continued, “I shouldn’t have even started this whole thing. I guess seeing what happened with Davy really made me open my eyes to the fact that we don’t belong together.”
“Why not,” Peter asked. “I mean, we like each other. We love music. We hate hotdogs.”
Despite the situation, Tippy had to chuckle a bit.
“It takes more than that to make a relationship,” Tippy said. “I mean, we haven’t even discussed the things that really matter to us. And the what’s the most important to me, I already know you don’t believe in.”
“What is it,” Peter asked. “It can’t be something that couldn’t be changed.”
“You’re right,” Tippy said. “It can be changed, but it has to be for the right reasons, and when you’re ready. I’m a Christian, Peter.”
“Oh,” he said quietly.
“I shouldn’t have even led you on this far, I just got caught up in all the hoopla and even the notion that someone like you would want to be with someone like me,” Tippy said.
“I see,” Peter said, reaching down and picking a daisy.
“I’m sorry,” Tippy said, “can we still be friends?”
“I’d like that,” he said.
“Can I have a hug,” Tippy asked.
“You bet,” Peter said, smiling his famous smile, making Tippy almost regret what she did. Almost.
“Here you go,” he said as they broke away, handing her a daisy.
“My favorite,” Tippy exclaimed. “How did you know?”
“Just a hunch,” Peter said with a shrug as he got up.
The two walked back to the gate in silence.
“So,” Davy said as the group met up again at the garden gate, “ready to go ‘ome?”
“Yea,” Tippy said, looking down at the daisy in her hand. Something told her this just wasn’t going to be easy.
“Step on it,” Linds screamed as they watched the robot cross the street.
“I’m trying,” Metty said, “but the light is red.”
“Who cares,” Tiff said, “we gotta get that thing.”
Looking over her shoulder, Metty quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road and the group dashed out.
“It’s over there,” Connie pointed as they crossed the street.
“It’s headed straight for the bank Tippy works at,” Metty said as the girls tried to inconspicuously run down Grand Ave.
On to Part Ten!
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