"What's wrong with the car, Mike?" Davy Jones asked.
Mike Nesmith, who was at the wheel, shrugged. "Dunno."
"Well, it sure wasn't supposed to do that," Peter Tork declared.
A bubbling sound came from under the hood.
"Maybe the engine is just overheated," Micky Dolenz suggested.
"Maybe so," Mike said, getting out of the flashy GTO and opening the hood. Steam billowed out and Mike stepped back. "I think it's more than that," Mike said. "I think the fan blew out."
"Oh great," Davy muttered. "We'll never make it to my cousin's on time at this rate. Where are we going to find a fan around ‘ere?" Davy gestured around the surrounding area, which was mostly an expanse of trees and brush.
"Well, Mr. Navigator, where are we?" Mike asked Micky, adjusting his woolhat and folding his arms.
The drummer looked down at the road map and brushed his long brown hair, which almost came down to his shoulders, out of his eyes. "Well, uh, I think we may've taken a wrong turn back there somewhere," he said. "We may've turned left when we should've turned right, or maybe we went East instead of South, or was it North?"
"Oh brother," Mike sighed.
"Well," Peter said, "we probably should look around a bit and see if we can find a service station or something."
"Doesn't look like there's a town for miles around, Pete," Mike replied.
"Well, appearances can be deceiving," Micky said.
Mike shrugged. "What have we got to loose. C'mon, let's go."
The Monkeemobile sputtered and coughed, then came to an abrupt halt.
"I'm glad it's friendly," Peter commented.
"I ‘ope it's not another ghost town," Davy said.
"I think it's still populated," Mike replied, glancing around. Main Street was just up ahead. Every now and then, a car would leisurely come down the street. People read newspapers on benches outside the buildings. Mike hoped that the town really was friendly and accepting of strangers, unlike other small towns they'd been through in the past.
The Monkees curiously looked up at the various buildings as they headed down Main Street. Before long, they passed a barber shop. A pleasant-looking man wearing a barber's coat sat outside on a bench, waving hello to everyone who walked by. When he saw the Monkees, he greeted them with, "Well, hello there! Haven't seen you boys around before. Just move in?"
"Well, actually, we were on our way to Bloomingdale when the fan in our car conked out," Mike said, relieved that the first person they'd met was indeed friendly.
"Oh, that's too bad," the man said, and introduced himself as Floyd Lawson, the town barber.
"I'm Michael Nesmith, and this is Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, and Peter Tork," Mike replied, pointing to each of his bandmates in turn. They all said hello to Floyd. "We're The Monkees."
"Oh, a chimpanzee act?" Floyd asked innocently.
"Uh, no," Mike said. "We're a band, like the Beatles."
"We were looking for the service station," Micky spoke up.
"Wally's Filling Station," Floyd supplied, and gave them directions. "Gomer Pyle should be able to fix your car. He's here on leave from the Marine Corps, filling in for his cousin Goober, who's visiting his sister in Siler City. Oh, he's a wizard with cars, simply a wizard," Floyd exclaimed enthusiastically.
"That's good," Mike said. "We'll go see him. Thanks for your help!"
The Monkees said goodbye and continued ambling up Main Street. Floyd suddenly called after them, "Hey, you boys' hair is looking a little shaggy in the back. If you boys would like a haircut, just come back any time!"
The Monkees all turned back. "Thanks for the offer," Mike said, unsure how exactly to explain that most boys wore their hair longer these days.
Before the others could reply, a tall, lanky man sporting coveralls and a baseball cap came out of the building and sauntered over to them. "Hey," he called with a friendly grin.
"Hello," the Monkees all replied.
"Are you Gomer Pyle?" Mike asked.
The man nodded. "Sure am!"
Mike introduced himself and the other Monkees, then said, "We had some car trouble and Floyd, the barber, recommended we come see you about it."
"Car trouble?" Gomer repeated. "Oh, that's too bad. What happened?"
"The fan conked out," Mike replied.
"Oh, well, where is yer car?" Gomer asked. "I'll have a look at her."
"She's outside of town a couple of miles," Micky spoke up.
"Well, let's take the tow truck and go check her out," Gomer said.
He noticed the license plates. "Hey, you fellas are from California?" he asked excitedly.
"Yeah," Davy said, then quickly added, "Well, I'm actually from Manchester, England, but I moved to California."
"Manchester!" Gomer exclaimed. "My, my. I've always wanted to go there."
Gomer lifted the Monkeemobile's hood and looked under, talking and asking questions all the while.
"What're you fellas doin' clear across the country in North Carolina?" he queried curiously.
"Well, we were going to Bloomingdale to visit my cousin," Davy said.
"Bloomingdale?" Gomer repeated. "Well, that's quite a way back."
Mike sighed. "Yeah, we started to figure that after the car stopped here."
Gomer came out from under the hood. "Well, yer fan's blown out alright. And I don't have a new one right here. I'll have to order one from Raleigh. It could take a couple of days to get here."
Mike sighed and turned to his fellow Monkees. "Well, what do you guys think?"
Davy shrugged. "I guess we ‘ave no choice. I'll ‘ave to call my cousin and explain that we'll be a little late."
Micky and Peter agreed, and Mike turned back to Gomer. "Go ahead and order it," he said. "Thanks for your help."
Gomer nodded and smiled big. "Aw, don't mention it." To Davy, Gomer said, "Telephone's in here. Go right ahead and use it!" He gestured toward the building. Davy thanked him and went in.
Micky and Peter went over to the soda case. Mike stayed behind to chat with Gomer.
"Nice little town you've got here," the Texan commented.
Gomer grinned. "Yeah. It's small, but it's friendly. Have you met Andy and Barney yet?"
"No, we haven't," Mike replied. "So far, we've only met you and Floyd, the barber."
"Well, Andy Taylor is the sheriff, and Barney Fife is the deputy," Gomer said. "Not a better law enforcement agency anywhere! In fact, it looks like they're comin' now!"
Mike saw a black-and-white squad car pull up to the gas pump. Two men got out.
Micky and Peter also noticed them. Micky studied them thoughtfully. One had rather wavy brown hair and friendly blue eyes. He grinned and called hello to Gomer.
The other was taller, with an official-looking hat shading his eyes. He also called out a greeting to Gomer. Micky thought he saw him look rather shocked at the sight of Mike, with the green woolhat perched on his head and the rather long, dark hair. Both wore uniforms with badges.
"Hey, Andy and Barney!" Gomer called out. "You're just in time to meet some visitors. Their car broke down and it'll take a couple of days to get fixed, so they're gonna stay here for a while."
"Well, it's always nice to have visitors," the one with the wavy brown hair said.
"Andy, Barney, this is Mike Nesmith," Gomer said. "Mike, this is Sheriff Andy Taylor"—he indicated the man with the wavy hair—"and Deputy Barney Fife."—the tall one.
Micky and Peter came up by Mike, and Davy came out of the building.
"And this is Micky Dolenz," Gomer started.
"Aspiring werewolf!" Micky interjected humorously.
Andy laughed, but Barney's eyes grew big. "Werewolf?" he repeated, horrified, looking Micky up and down.
Micky thought that he heard Andy whisper to his deputy, "He's joking, Barney," and Barney whisper back, "Werewolves are no joking matter, Andy!" but he wasn't sure.
After introductions were finished, Andy said to the Monkees, "Well, hope you boys enjoy your stay here in Mayberry."
"Thank you, Sheriff," Mike said.
"I'm sure we will," Peter added.
"I'll set y'all up with rooms in the Mayberry Hotel," Gomer offered.
"You would?" Peter asked excitedly. "Gee, thanks. That's really nice of you."
Gomer grinned. "Aw, don't mention it." He headed into the building to place the call.
Mike headed for the Monkeemobile. "Well, we'd better get our things out of the car." Davy, Peter, and Micky followed.
"Hey, I know Aunt Bee would love to have you boys over for supper tonight," Andy called after them.
The Monkees stopped and turned back. "Thank you," Mike said, "but we wouldn't want to impose . . ."
"Aw, you wouldn't be imposing at all," Andy replied. "Aunt Bee is making a turkey roast for supper, and there's good and plenty for all of you!"
The Monkees all looked at each other, then back at Andy. "Thank you," Mike said again. "We'll be there!"
Andy gave them the address of the Taylor home and said to "just come on by around six." Then he and Barney drove off.
"This really is a groovy little place," Micky commented.
"Alrighty, the rooms are all ready," Gomer announced, coming out of the building.
"Well, we'd better be getting over there," Mike said, as they started to take their instruments out of the car.
"Say, that's a lot of stuff to have to drag all the way over to the hotel," Gomer observed.
"That's alright. We'll manage," Mike said.
"How ‘bout if I take you in my truck?" Gomer offered.
The Monkees all looked at each other again. "Well, that's a really kind offer," Davy began.
"But aren't you needed here?" Mike asked.
Gomer waved a hand dismissively. "Business is slow right now. Wally wouldn't mind if I just closed ‘er up for a few minutes."
"Well . . . if you're sure it wouldn't be too much trouble," Mike said.
"Oh no! I'd be glad to do it!" Gomer said. "I'll go get my truck right now!" He ran around to the back of the building.
"Boy, Micky, you're sure right," Peter said. "This is a groovy place!"
"I'm sure glad of it, too," Mike added, remembering past encounters with small towns that hadn't been so friendly.
"I wouldn't mind living here," Davy commented.
They were all gathered around the Taylors' dining room table towards the end of the meal.
"No, thanks, Miss Bee," Mike said, leaning back in his chair.
"Davy?"
The British Monkee shook his head. "I couldn't," he said, "but I could go for another slice of that wonderful homemade bread."
Aunt Bee smiled and passed him the bread. "Peter? Micky?"
"Sure, we'll take another slice," they replied in unison.
Mike noticed that Andy's son, Opie, continually stared at them curiously. He was just about to ask what was up when Opie said, "Hey, did you say that you're a band called the Monkees?"
Mike nodded, and Davy said, "Yes, we sure are."
Opie nodded, satisfied.
"Have you heard of us?" Peter asked.
"Well, kinda. Mary Alice Carter at school said she went down to Malibu on a family vacation a month or so ago and saw a band called the Monkees perform at the Bluebird Cafe," Opie replied.
Micky grinned. "That was us!"
"You play the guitar, Sheriff?" Peter asked in surprise.
Andy nodded. "Yup. Sure do."
"Why don't you play for us?" Aunt Bee suggested. At Andy's invitation, the Monkees had brought their instruments with them to the Taylor home.
"Yeah, I guess we could," Mike said, looking at his fellow Monkees for approval. They all nodded enthusiastically.
Before long, everything was set up and the Monkees were ready to begin. Andy noticed the sheet music for "Papa Gene's Blues" and looked at it curiously. "Hey, I think I know this song," he said. He picked a few chords on his guitar and glanced at the songwriter credits. "Michael Nesmith?" he read, looking up. "You wrote this?" he asked Mike.
Mike nodded. "Yes, I did."
"I believe the Darlings played it for us once," Andy commented, and showed the sheet music to Aunt Bee and Opie.
"Yes, I believe I remember that, too," Aunt Bee said. "They mentioned vacationing in California and hearing you boys do the song."
"Well, shall we start off with that one?" Davy asked.
"Yes, please do," Aunt Bee said.
No heartaches felt, no longer lonely
Nights of waiting finally won me happiness
It's all rolled up in you
And now with you as inspiration,
I look toward my destination
Sunny, bright that once before was blue
I have no more than I did before,
But now I have all that I need
For I love you and I know you love me
So take my hand, I'll start my journey
Free from all the helpless worry
That besets a man when he's alone
For strength is mine when we're together,
And with you I know I'll never
Have to pass the high road for the low
I have no more than I did before,
But now I have all that I need
For I love you and I know you love me
Yes, I love you and I know you love me
"That was beautiful!" Aunt Bee exclaimed.
"Yes, that's a real good one!" Andy said.
The Monkees played a few other songs, including "Take a Giant Step," "Last Train to Clarksville," "Nine Times Blue," and then they finished with "I'm a Believer," much to Opie's delight. He loved the song, but never knew who was singing it.
I thought love was only true in fairy tales
Meant for someone else but not for me
Love was out to get me,
That's the way it seemed
Disappointment haunted all my dreams
Then I saw her face,
Now I'm a believer
Not a trace
Of doubt in my mind
I'm in love,
And I'm a believer,
I couldn't leave her if I tried
I thought love was more or less a given thing
Seems the more I gave, the less I got
What's the use in tryin'?
All you get is pain
When I needed sunshine I got rain
Then I saw her face,
Now I'm a believer
Not a trace
Of doubt in my mind
I'm in love,
And I'm a believer,
I couldn't leave her if I tried
Love was out to get me
That's the way it seemed
Disappointment haunted all my dreams
Then I saw her face,
Now I'm a believer
Not a trace
Of doubt in my mind
I'm in love,
And I'm a believer,
I couldn't leave her if I tried
Andy, Aunt Bee, and Opie applauded enthusiastically.
"You boys are very talented," Aunt Bee exclaimed. "I can't figure out why you're not known internationally, like the Beatles!"
The Monkees blushed. Being compared to the Beatles? What next?
"Ope, why don't you sing?" Andy suggested.
"Aw, Paw . . ." Opie protested.
"No, I mean it. You do a great job on ‘Dan Tucker,'" Andy said.
"Yeah, come on, Opie," the Monkees encouraged.
"I'll play the guitar for you," Andy offered.
"Well . . . alright," Opie consented.
Everyone applauded Opie's performance.
"You're going to be a singer, I just know it," Peter said.
"Thanks." Opie sat back down on the couch.
Yes, it was another leisurely, peaceful evening in Mayberry, North Carolina. The Monkees were enjoying every minute of it.
"Wonder who that is playing," Micky said.
"Whoever it is, they're pretty good," Mike commented.
"And I think they're coming ‘ere," Davy chimed in.
Before long, an old truck came into view. It looked about ready to fall apart. There were four young boys in the back of the truck, playing their bluegrass music. An older man drove the truck, and a pretty girl sat next to him in the passenger seat. Andy and Barney came out of the courthouse.
"Well, lookee there. It's the Darlings!" Andy announced.
"Is it ever," Davy said, looking straight at the girl. Stars appeared in his eyes.
"He's in love," Micky proclaimed.
"Yeah," Mike agreed. "For the first time today."
The truck stopped at the side of the road and everyone climbed out of the truck.
"Well, hello, there, Mr. Darling," Andy greeted the older man. "This is a pleasant surprise."
"Howdy, Sheriff," Mr. Darling replied. "Howdy, Deputy. Say hello, boys."
The four boys just kinda waved a greeting, but remained silent.
"Hi," Barney said.
"Hello," the girl chirped. She had pretty brunette hair that almost came down to her shoulders and deep blue eyes. Her eyes fell on Davy. "Hello," she said in a dreamy voice.
"‘ello, luv," Davy greeted her.
"He's the one!" the girl exclaimed. "Paw, he's the one!"
Davy's mouth dropped open. "What?" he said, totally puzzled. Peter, Mike, and Micky were similarly perplexed.
"Uh, Mr. Darling, boys, meet Mike Nesmith, Davy Jones, Micky Dolenz, and Peter Tork," Andy said, quickly making introductions. "They're staying here in Mayberry while their car is being repaired." He was about to ask who the girl was. He had never seen her before.
Before Andy had that opportunity, Mr. Darling went over and clapped Davy on the shoulder. "Welcome to the family, young fella."
"What are you talking about?" Davy exclaimed. "What's going on here?"
"Sheriff," Mr. Darling said, turning back to Andy, "we're here because of the Omen of the Werewolf. A werewolf came real close to the farm last night and howled continuously for an hour. Werewolves are only supposed to come out when the moon is full. Coming out at any other time means of course means that a man from a foreign country will be visiting the town and will become the husband of the oldest unmarried girl in the family. This pretty little thing is Karen, Dud's sister." Mr. Darling gestured at the brunette girl, who smiled pixieishly. Dud was Mr. Darling's son-in-law, married to the only Darling girl, Charlene.
"Oh, well, nice to meet you, Karen," Andy said.
"Pleasure's all mine," she replied.
Mr. Darling looked at Davy. "I don't believe that was an American accent I heard."
Davy was speechless. Mike was the first to speak. "That's ridiculous! You believe in omens and hocus-pocus like that?"
"Uh, Mr. Darling . . ." Andy began. Mr. Darling held up his hands for silence.
"So there will be a wedding in the next few hours, just as soon as everything can be ready." Mr. Darling, Karen, and the boys climbed back in the truck and drove off. "We'll be back around seven."
"What was that all about?" Mike asked Andy.
"Yeah. That stuff is crazy!" Micky added.
"Well, boys," Andy said ruefully, "the Darlings live up in the mountains. They're kinda like . . ." He groped for the right word.
"Hillbillies?" Micky supplied.
Andy nodded. "Sorta like that. And well, they believe in omens and superstitions and things like that." He looked apologetically at the Monkees. "Sorry you boys had to get into this mess."
"What am I gonna do?" Davy moaned. "I'm too young to get married! And I don't even know the girl!"
Mike looked at Andy. Andy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I regret to have to say this, but I'm afraid the only way is to produce a counteromen."
"Counteromen?" the Monkees all exclaimed at once.
Barney, who had been silent for most of this (a first for Barney), spoke up. "Andy, I could go check out that book on spells and omens from the library."
"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't encourage it," Andy sighed, "but we've gotta help these boys someway. Go ahead and get it, Barn."
Before Barney could drive off, everyone's attention was turned to someone coming down the street unsteadily. He was wearing a suit and a crumpled hat, and was carrying an empty bottle. He was also singing loudly off-key.
"The Dipsy Doodle is a thing to beware. The Dipsy Doodle will get in your hair . . ."
"Otis!" Barney exclaimed loudly.
"I suppose you're taking the twenty-four hours instead of the two-dollar fine," Andy said.
Otis nodded and walked up to the courthouse, inserting a key in the lock and turning it. He then tried to open the door, but found it locked.
"Uh, Otis, the door was already unlocked," Andy pointed out.
"Oh. Well, that's why I couldn't get in," Otis slurred.
The Monkees watched in disbelief as the man eventually got the door open and walked into the courthouse, where he proceeded to lock himself in one of the jail cells.
"Who was that cat?" Micky asked.
"Otis Campbell," Barney replied. "The town drunk. He drives an old hot rod. One of these days, Andy, I'm telling ya, Otis is gonna get in that car when he's gassed and he'll . . . ."
"Barney," Andy interrupted, "Otis never takes his car with him when he goes over to Charlie Varney's. And even if he did, he never drives when he's been drinking."
"Well, that could change, Andy," Barney insisted. "I'm not gonna just stand by and watch Mayberry get creamed off the map!"
Andy, keenly aware that the Monkees were right there hearing everything, said, "We'll talk about this later. Barn, you'd better head on over to the library and get that book."
Barney sighed and got in the squad car. "Well, Andy, if something awful happens, don't come crying to me!" He started the engine and drove off.
"This is really ridiculous," Mike said. "To have to resort to hocus-pocus like this." He looked pleadingly at Andy. "Isn't there a more reasonable way, Sheriff?"
Andy picked up the gavel on the desk and started marking on it with a pencil. "I wish there was. I don't like doing that kinda nonsense either. Once, Charlene decided she wanted to divorce Dud and marry me. Barney had to ride on a horse from East to West to make the Darlings believe the marriage was cursed."
Micky snickered.
Peter turned a page in the book. "Hey, guys, I've found it! The counteromen to the Omen of the Werewolf is having another werewolf come out and howl for an hour, following the bridegroom around everywhere. That means that the bridegroom is cursed, and the wedding is cursed."
"That's ridiculous!" Micky exclaimed. "Where are we gonna find a werewolf?"
All eyes fell upon Micky. The drummer's mouth dropped open. "Me?" he exclaimed.
Mike nodded. "You, shotgun."
"You do a really good werewolf impression," Peter encouraged.
Micky grinned. "You think so, Big Pete?" He broke out into his werewolf routine. Otis called out from Cell #1, "Where's the dog?"
Micky rolled his eyes.
"Karen, you look just beautiful!" Charlene exclaimed.
"You really think so?" Karen asked.
Charlene nodded. "Now, where is the lucky man? I wanna meet him!"
The Monkees, minus Micky and Mike, came out of the courthouse.
"There he is!" Karen exclaimed, rushing over to Davy.
"Um, hi," Davy said, momentarily startled.
"The weddin's scheduled for eight," Mr. Darling announced. "Everything's all arranged."
"I dunno, Mike," Micky said. "Are you sure this'll work?"
"It'd better," Mike replied.
Micky let out a loud howl.
"Paw, what was that?" Karen exclaimed.
"It sounded like the call of the werewolf," Charlene declared.
"He probably followed us down from the hills," Mr. Darling said.
"I hope he don't follow us around for the next hour," Karen said, who knew, of course, about the curse.
"That sure is a noisy werewolf," Mr. Darling said.
"Oh, Paw, what if he howls for an hour?" Karen worried.
"Not to worry," Mr. Darling said. "It's only been twenty minutes. I'm sure he'll quiet down."
When they finally arrived at the preacher's home, Micky howled especially loud. The clock began to strike eight. As the chimes died away, Micky gave a long, mournful howl. A wolf suddenly appeared just outside the front door of the house.
"Paw! The wedding's cursed!" Karen yelled.
"We'd better get out of here!" Mr. Darling exclaimed. The Darlings ran out to their truck, jumped in, and drove away.
Davy breathed a sigh of relief as he and Peter walked outside. "It worked," the British Monkee said in awe. "I can't believe it, but it actually worked!"
Peter noticed the wolf in the doorway. "Hey, Micky, great job," Peter said. "Great costume, too."
Mike appeared talking with Andy, whom he'd seen walking down the street and went out to meet.
"So did it work?" Andy asked.
"I believe so," Mike said.
"Yeah, it did," Davy said.
Suddenly Barney came running up, looking panicky. "Andy! Andy!" he yelled.
"What's the matter, Barn?" Andy asked.
"There's a werewolf in town! I heard it!" Barney shrieked. He stared at the wolf. "There it is!"
"Oh, no, this is Micky," Peter said. "He dressed up as a wolf to counteract the omen."
Barney looked relieved.
"Wait a minute," Mike said, "Micky wasn't wearing a costume."
The Monkees looked at each other. Davy kneeled down and took a good look at the wolf. "This really is a wolf!" he exclaimed. "Micky must've turned into a werewolf!"
Barney was horrified. "What?"
"Micky!" Peter exclaimed, and started to bawl.
"Hey, guys, what's wrong?" a familiar voice called out.
Everyone looked up. Micky was coming from behind the house, looking very puzzled.
"Micky! You didn't turn into a werewolf!" Peter yelled happily.
Micky started to laugh. Then he let out a werewolf howl.
The wolf looked Micky over, then started to chase him around the yard.
"Fellas, help!" Micky screamed. "It's a vicious animal!"
Mike chuckled. "Actually, on the contrary, shotgun. That, I believe, is a female wolf. She must think you'd make a good husband."
Everyone started to laugh. Micky climbed a tree and then, safe from the wolf, he started to laugh with them.
"You know, I really will miss this place," Mike mused.
"Yeah, it's been fun here," Peter said.
"I feel rather sorry for Karen," Davy sighed.
"Oh, well, don't be," Micky said, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Haven't you heard?"
Davy shook his head. "No. What?"
"Well, on the way back to their home in the hills, the Darlings met up with an old boyfriend of Karen's, who's just returned from Raleigh on a business trip. They're now engaged to be married."
"Oh, that's nice," Peter said. "Happy endings all the way around."
"Well, here she is, fellas!" Gomer announced proudly. "Good as new!"
"Great! Thanks for all your help," Mike said. "How much do we owe you?"
Gomer shrugged and grinned. "Aw, well, you don't need to worry about payin.' Just consider it a good deed for a neighbor. And when you see someone else in need, just repay the favor by helpin' them."
Mike shook Gomer's hand. "Thank you. We will."
As the Monkees prepared to drive off, the Taylors came over.
"So you boys are leavin' now?" Andy asked.
Mike nodded. "Yeah. It's been wonderful here, and we'd like to come back sometime, but now we'd better be getting on over to Davy's cousin's."
"Yeah, I'm sure he's wondering what's keeping us so long," Davy added.
"Well, I packed some sandwiches for you boys in case you get hungry on the road," Aunt Bee said, handing a paper bag to Mike.
"Thank you, Miss Bee," Mike said. "That was very thoughtful of you." The other Monkees nodded in agreement.
"Everyone here has been really kind to us," Peter said.
"It's been groovy staying here," Micky chimed in.
"Well, just drop on by when you're in our area again," Andy said.
"We will," Mike said as they climbed into the car. Mike gunned the engine and they drove off, waving to Gomer and the Taylors.
"That was a refreshing experience," Mike said when they were on the road.
Everyone agreed and knew that they'd stumbled upon a very special town, a safe haven in a sometimes dangerous world. They would remember their experiences in the town for many years to come.
Go back to the fanfic library!
