Like promised, today would be the day I meet Keith Moon. I was both excited and extremely worried; where would I be if Keith had decided today was a perfect day to do a line of cocaine or a bucket of LSD? My house and possibly my own important possessions could be mutilated, broken, or used as weapons. Who knows? He may even drive right up the front staircase and into the front doors, or crash into the lovely fountain out front. He could tear up Bonzo's garden! He could set a bomb off in Jimmy's manor and still I would agree that he was one of the most exciting men in the world.
A knock on my bedroom door woke me from my thoughts. "Master Carsons, Master Page has called you to brunch," Cheever called through the door before I could roll off my bed to open it.
I groaned. "Thank you, Cheever," I yelled back irritatedly. Bianca had yet to fire the butler, even after everyone had told her yesterday, and if Jimmy weren't so good-hearted, he'd surely have taken care of it by now. I flopped back down onto my canopy bed again and stared up at the rich gray fabric draped from the four posters.
Cheever knocked on the door again. "Master Carsons, Master Page has requested you be there this moment. He also bades you wear this outfit for the day's events."
For the second time that day already, I groaned. "Bring it in, Cheever," I called, annoyed. The doors opened and Cheever made his way to my giant bed quietly. He held a coat hanger in his left hand. He draped it and the hanging outfit on the bed.
"Master Page says the outfit is appropriate for the meeting of Mister Moon and brunch. He wishes you be downstairs in the dining hall in ten minutes-- and be prompt." Ignoring Cheever, I sat up and pulled the outfit toward me. It was a black lace leotard with black satin leggings, black lace-up leather boots, and a heavy furred Groupie Jacket. "Oh! yes, and Master Page told me to inform you that a bra isn't necessary... ahem, 'it never is.'"
"This outfit is entirely inappropriate! He obviously wasn't making a point to be conservative, the randy bastard!" I rubbed my nose. "Dreadful."
"Master Page says you may wear that... or nothing," Cheever replied, avoiding direct eye contact.
I sniffed. "Thank you, Cheever. I'll be down in ten."
"Shall I tell Master Page you'll wear the outfit?" Cheever asked.
"You can tell him I'll be down in ten minutes. Thank you."
Cheever left and I hoped off the bed, shuffling toward my closet. I easily pulled out a premeditated outfit of dark blue denim bell bottoms and a Zombies "Odessey and Oracle" tee. Quickly, because in this wretched house I never knew when someone would barge in, I changed into the clothes and tossed my ripe clothes on the floor of my closet.
The third time someone knocked on my door, it was John Paul, his expression changing once he saw my casual and semi-conservative outfit. Although everyone in the house considered me a spunky, rebellious type of hard-ass, I'd much rather were a Monkees shirt or an Emerson, Lake, and Palmer tee over a slutty suit.
"Oh thank God!" he breathed with relief. "I was worried you were going to wear that sleazy leather jump-suit! Jimmy picked it out and I told him it was dreadful and revealing-- very degrading. Anyway, if Cheever wasn't already here, Jim told me to tell you you need to be down in the dining quarter in ten--"
"I know. I have-- what?-- five minutes left? You can't give a girl a ten minute interval to get ready! Men! You're all fools, I swear to God!" I slammed the door and retreated to my vanity. I didn't want to be mean to John Paul. He was so fabulously pleasant to be around, and, being the incessant talker that I am, I could hold a conversation practically with myself with little or no interruption. However, it was a must that I turn him from be because I needn't any more competition with Jimmy, and John Paul was just in the way. Now Robert liked me too, and Bonzo was on the fence. Usually this would be a great honor, but for me, when all I wanted was Jimmy, it was terrible and I knew I had to let the boys down easy.
I wouldn't like to say that Keith was completely sober, but he had definitely put on his best behaviour because he hadn't done any collateral damage yet. I sat beside Jimmy, who sat at the head of the table, in the dining room.
"Pagey?" Keith called as he entered the house. I glanced toward Jimmy and blushed. When I had first sat down, I was very surprised that he hadn't addressed the fact that I wasn't wearing his chosen clothes. He hadn't even stirred, like I had intended. I had wholly hoped that he would be upset or fawn over my rebellion, however small it was.
"In here, Moonman!" Jimmy called, and Cheever led Keith into the dining room. My heart fluttered at the sight of one of my greatest idols. Jimmy stood and I felt it proper to do the same.
Keith wore a Roger Waters-inspired flowery blouse with Renaissance-style sleeves and a flared collar. His legs were wrapped in tan bell bottoms and on his feet were a walnut-shaded pair of Dingo boots not unlike the brown clodhopper pair Jimmy wore everywhere for ever occasion. His hair was askew and his eyes were highly dilated and irritated.
"Misses Page?" Keith asked as he looked me up and down, grinning. I held out my hand for a handshake but he took it daintily and kissed my knuckles in an exaggerated bow.
Jimmy laughed, cleared his throat, and motioned to the chair opposite me at the table. Before going to the other side of table to sit down, Jimmy and Keith took hands in a firm handshake and a slap on the back, exchanging small talk for a second.
Keith sat down with a grunt and addressed me as soon as he was situated. "G'day, missus! How are you on this brilliant fall day?"
"Yes, it is quite beautiful today, isn't it?" Jimmy interrupted before I could talk. "We should go for a brisk some time soon, eh? Sounds nice to me, mate."
"I'm alright, thank you," I replied with a glare toward Jimmy. He smiled and I knew he was laughing at me in his mind. "How are you, Mister Moon?"
"Keith. I'm splendid!" Keith exclaimed, slapping a hand down on the finished table. "I apologize for being late-- I was over at Starr's house teaching Jason something about drums."
"Starr?" I asked.
Jimmy butted in again. "Ringo."
I held a hand toward him for silence irritably. "I know who Ringo Starr is, thank you. I'm only the world's biggest Beatlemaniac."
"Really?" Keith asked, intrigued. He leaned forward over the table on his folded arms. "I could introduce you to Starr, if you're as much a Wholigan as I've been told."
"Er, Loon, I don't think an introduction on your part will be entirely necessary," Jimmy observed. "I could just as easily introduce her to George Harrison as you could Ringo. He and I go back some years."
"I could introduce her to Mick Jagger," Keith one-upped, eyeing Jimmy competitively. "Yeah, I don't know what is going on between him and Pete. I swear they're both nancies planning on eloping together after Jagger ditches the wench he's with now. They're both as hydrogenated as Bowie."
Jimmy turned to me. "Would you like to meet Clap? Or Jeff? Beck?"
Keith waved away Jimmy's offer denouncing. "Guitarists only know guitarists, really. Drummers, now we know everybody because everybody knows us. Speaking of, where's Bon?"
"Upstairs," I replied before Jimmy could add to the conversation. I began to feel awfully awkward as the two went at it.
The two were silent for a moment, eyeing each other with bright eyes until both began laughing. Jimmy spoke between giggles, "Shall we go for a walk? Bonzo wants you to see his garden."
We ditched our food before it ever got there and I knew Leenin was going to be mad. As we walked around the house and toward the large garden on the right side of the large property, Keith and Jimmy were at it again, discussing musical trivial and other things about tour. I soon blocked them out and walked along until I got to the gate of Bonzo's Beatles-"Rain"-inspired garden. Trees and vines and flowers wrapped themselves around everything and not a single place in the garden, besides the gravel walk way and the floor of the wooden gazebo, was occupied by a plant of some type. Vines curled around the support rungs of the gazebo and the fence squaring the garden.
"Ey, are you two morons going to stop talking long enough to see Bonzo's pretty garden?" I asked, ashamed I used the word "pretty" in an assertive sentence. The two looked at me as if I had just gotten there and separated, Keith going down the walkway and leaving Jimmy by my side.
"I like the other outfit better," Jimmy whispered as he pushed past me. I grabbed the back of his cardigan and pulled his heavy weight toward me. He looked down at me, a seductive and enticing glint in his eyes. Out foreheads touched and he said sweetly, "You can't stand not to break the rules, hmm? I payed a lot for that outfit, I'll have you know."
"I payed a lot for this Zombies band-tee," I said, not at all retortfully, although he took it as such. "And I got these pants for twenty! I don't live a cheap life, mister."
"I know you don't, Misses Page." He grinned a wicked grin and turned to follow Keith, his cardigan flying behind him. He called after Keith, "Hey, Loon! Would you like to stay for supper?"
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