~ ~ Epilogue ~ ~
Paul began to play on Peter's keyboard. Gentle chords signaled
the start a tune that many in the audience knew, oh so well.
"When I find myself in times of trouble.... mother Mary
comes to me.... speaking words of wisdom.... let it be.... and in
my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me...
speaking words of wisdom... let it be."
The other musicians slipped in smoothly with a melodic
"Oooooo" under Paul's singing.
Davy glanced over at Peter, who was clearly just as affected by
the beautiful orchestration of the song. Mike, standing to the
other side, caught their glance and shared it with Micky. The
Monkees had all heard "Let it Be" a thousand times
before, and had even seen the movie that had pretty much served
as a documentary of the destruction of one of the most legendary
groups of their time-- of all time. This performance was
theraputic in a way, and in particular, having George there
brought everything full circle.
Each 'pre-fab' could only imagine what was being felt by their
three contemporaries at that moment.....
Paul's voice sounded strong, piano playing was solid. This,
however, was quite a feat since his mind was elsewhere. It was
off where both George and Ringo were as well. They'd come a long
way since 1971 and the break up. Just to be back onstage together
had seemed nearly impossible for many, many years.
This was the chance no one had ever expected to get--- a chance
to make amends. Not a day passed that Paul didn't regret missing
that last chance with John. They'd been best friends back in the
day, and to never be able to embrace and say those two simple
words one last time - "I'm sorry" - was a regret that
he had carried with him his entire life. George was on the verge
of leaving this world as well, and he sure as hell wasn't going
to let another friend pass away, falling from his grasp forever,
without a last hoorah.
"And when the broken hearted people living in the world
agree.... there will be an answer... let it be."
George looked over at that moment and could feel what Paul was
thinking. This might be it, mate. But... If Ah'm goin', Ah'm
gonna go doin' what Ah love. Remember me this way...
Paul swallowed and looked down at the keyboard. "For though
they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see...
there will be an answer... let it be."
The Monkees felt like guests at a sacred event at that moment.
Peter never fumbled in backup guitar duties, but what he wouldn't
have given for a third hand to wipe his eyes with. Watching in
sheer amazement, he saw all the people assembled at the foot of
the stage begin to sway, as one, in time with the music. This
is one of those moments you never forget. The unity.... the
pride.... He changed key and Paul nodded to signal the
switch over to "The Long and Winding Road".
"The long and winding road... that leads to your door...
will never disappear... I've seen that road before...."
It was Mike's turn for thinking. Life was certainly a winding
road. It had brought him to audition for some "silly
television show" many years ago and brought him into contact
with three other men who would be like his brothers for many
years to come. Then life had changed him, like the wind shifting
directions, and taken him away from those friends.
"The wild and windy night... that the rain washed away...
has left a pool of tears... crying for the day..."
So far removed from his early life that Mike himself feared what
he had become, only dark, horrible circumstances could have
reunited them. Out of the trajedy had come hope. He was where he
was meant to be. On stage with friends, companions, and brothers
in a world that was so crazy. It was one crisis after another,
with no time to stop and reflect. They were needed here, now, to
offer comfort and support to their listeners--- and each other.
"Many times I've been alone, and many times I've
cried...."
Paul looked up to the heavens for a moment and blew a kiss to
Linda. He would see her again someday.
"Anyway, you'll never know the many ways I've
tried...."
Ringo, behind the drums for this song, imagined clearly in his
mind's eye the early days. The smoke-filled clubs, the small time
gigs. They were so long ago, and yet were the building blocks of
a phenomina.
"And still, they lead me back, to the long winding
road..."
Davy remembered the screaming fans, the insane touring, the
feeling like he was an outsider when all the others were playing
and all he could do was tap on the tambourine. Then he learned
how to play and wrote his first song. That was the day he had
really grown up and held his own.
"You left me standing here a long, long time ago...."
A quick glance into the wings brought George up short. A white
glimmer, like the reflection of chrome had caught his eye, and he
was initially not going to think a thing about it. Standing
there, just out of view of the others, was John. He wore an
open-neck white dress shirt with white jeans, and, George
chuckled inspite himself.. no shoes. Just like Lennon. John waved
a 'see you soon' before fading from view.
"Don't leave me waiting here.... lead me to your
door...."
Everyone stepped foreward a bit, bathed in the gentle glow of the
dimmed spotlights as the song ended. The cheering audience was
muffled a bit, prehaps mercifully so, as everyone glanced from
face to face. Winding through life had brought them here and, to
be honest, it wasn't a bad place to be. Hand in hand. Friend to
friend. United at last.
But still, they lead me back
To the long winding road
You left me standing here
A long, long time ago
Don't keep me waiting here
Lead me to your door...