By: Larrysgirl and Mickys411 Rated G

Well, Marley was dead. The coroner signed all the papers and the judge signed all the papers, and so now Ebenezer Babbit was one of the wealthiest property owners in the state of California. Marley had been his business partner for more than thirty years, and when he died with no heirs everything had gone to Babbit. Now he owned property from the mountains to the beach shore, which he rented out at exorbitant rates.
Babbit, to put it mildly, was a mean, greedy, tight-fisted miser. Marley had been one as well, but Babbit's dealings often left him in the shade. Babbit kept a tight rein on his money and properties, making sure the rents were paid at the beginning of every month; and if someone was late, he would add heavy penalties to their payment, but more often than not, he would evict the hapless tenants.
Babbit would personally oversee that the rent notices were sent out every month (and never failed to complain about the postage rates) to his far-away properties, and went around himself to the beachfront homes to demand his rent.
He lived in a big beachfront home by himself, but never wanted to spend the money to take care of it...well, that's getting ahead of the story a little.
Anyway, seven years have now passed since Jacob Marley passed away. In fact, the anniversary of his death fell on December 24th...Christmas Eve. Did Babbit do anything to commemorate the passing of the only person he could (barely) call a friend? Nope. If he did, he kept it hidden. In fact, Babbit spent the day as usual in his small office a few blocks from his home. A sign hung above the office door, "Babbit and Marley-real estate agency. Though Marley was long dead, Babbit never bothered to have the sign changed. If anybody came in asking for Mr. Marley, Babbit would usually answer to that name as well.
Just inside the door was a desk, which was occupied by Babbit’s sole employee, a young man with curly hair, named Micky Dolenz. Micky slaved for Babbit from nine to five Monday through Friday, doing everything for him, from typing letters to getting his coffee, all for only 15 dollars a week!
Still, Micky was glad for the job, since he and his three friends were always short on money, but more on that later.
Micky was busy typing a letter when two older gentlemen came inside the office. The young man quickly got up to greet them.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Micky said politely, "How may I help you?"
"We are looking for either Mr. Babbit or Mr. Marley." One of the gentlemen replied.
"Mister Marley has been dead seven years, but I'll get Mr. Babbit for you." Micky replied, and then started to walk towards Mr. Babbit's office. However, he was cut short by his employer's sharp voice.
"I can see we have visitors, Dolenz." Babbit snapped, "Just point the way and get back to work!"
"Yes, Mr. Babbit." Micky replied, and pointed the way to the two gentlemen. The men smiled at him and went over to Babbit's office. Babbit was sitting behind his huge desk, counting bank receipts as the two men walked in. Putting the pile of paper down, he stood up to greet his visitors.
"I am Ebenezer Babbit." He said stiffly, "How may I help you gentlemen?" Babbit neither offered his hand nor asked the men to sit down.
"I am John Smith and this is my partner Harry Wesson." Smith replied with a smile, "We represent the United Charities of California. Perhaps you've heard of us?"
"I have." Babbit said sourly, already knowing where this conversation was heading. He sat down heavily on his chair. "What do want of me?"
"At this time of year," Wesson continued, "It is customary to think of those less fortunate than ourselves."
"Really." Babbit replied dryly.
"Yes sir." Smith said, "So we of the U.C.C are asking people to donate to make Christmas time a little less bleak."
"Are there no homeless shelters?" Babbit asked sharply.
"Yes, there are..." Wesson began.
"Are there still soup kitchens?" Babbit interrupted rudely.
"Sadly, yes there are..." Smith started to say.
"And what about the sweatshops? Are they still in operation?" Babbit asked, getting angrier by the minute.
"Yes sir!" Wesson said, getting a bit annoyed by Babbit's interruptions.
"Then it seems the 'less fortunate' are taken care of." Babbit said smugly.
"But many poor people do not want to be in a homeless shelter or work in a sweatshop." Smith said emphatically, "In fact some people would rather die."
"Then let them die and decrease the surplus population!" Babbit replied with a smirk.
Smith and Wesson looked at Babbit in shock. Surely the man must be joking! Wesson cleared his throat.
"Still, Mr. Babbit, it is the season. What may we put you down for?"
"Nothing!" Babbit replied, almost shouting.
"You wish to remain anonymous?" Smith asked, not quite getting Babbit's meaning.
"I wish to be left alone!" Babbit said, this time shouting. "I pay very high taxes to help those services I have mentioned and that is quite enough! Now, good day to you gentlemen!"
Smith and Wesson looked at each other, than at Babbit. It was now obvious he wasn't going to part with a nickel.
"Good day to you, Mr. Babbit." Wesson said with a sigh, “And Merry Christmas to you."
"Good day....gentlemen." Babbit said slowly, then went back to counting his bank receipts.
Smith and Wesson slowly walked out of Babbit's office and back to where Micky was now filing some papers.
"Good day to you gentlemen." Micky said to them.
"Good day to you as well, young man, and Merry Christmas!" Smith said to Micky.
"Merry Christmas to you as well, Gentlemen." Micky replied.
"Get to work, Dolenz!" Babbit shouted from his office.
Smith and Wesson looked with sympathy at Micky and left the office.
A few minutes later, another visitor came to Babbit's office. This time, it was Babbit's nephew, Fred. He was about the same age as Micky, and unlike his uncle, was always a cheerful person. Fred was carrying a wreath under his arm.
"Hello, Micky, and Merry Christmas to you!" Fred said.
"Oh, hi, Fred!" Micky replied, "And the same to you."
"Is my uncle in?" Fred asked.
"I'm in here, Bob!" Babbit shouted.
Fred smiled and shrugged his shoulders and went into Babbit's office.
"Hello, uncle!" Fred exclaimed, "And Merry Christmas to you!"
"Bah, humbug!" Babbit retorted, "What brings you here?"
"First I want to do this..." Fred said, as he placed the wreath on his uncle's door, "Then I would like to invite you to my house Christmas day for supper!"
"No thank you." Babbit snarled, "You know I don't like to eat at other people's houses. Too many germs."
"But it's Christmas, uncle!" Fred exclaimed.
"Yes, so you keep telling me!" Babbit said angrily. "Let me keep Christmas in my own way."
"But you don't keep Christmas, Uncle Ebenezer!"
"Then let me NOT keep Christmas if you don't mind!" Babbit shouted.
Fred sighed. Every year he tried to get his uncle in the Christmas spirit and every year he failed. He started towards the door.
"Well, if you change your mind, uncle, you know where I live."
"Goodbye, Fred." Babbit said slowly.
"Goodbye, uncle Ebenezer and Merry Christmas!" Fred said with a smile.
"BAH, HUMBUG!" Babbit shouted at him.
Fred walked over to Micky. "So, how are things with you, Micky?" Fred asked.
"As well as can be expected." Micky said a little sadly, "The Monkees aren't getting much work and Davy...." Micky hung his head. The Monkees were a rock band that Micky drummed for. He shared his pad with the other three members of that group, Mike, Peter and Davy. However, Davy was always sickly and needed an operation, but nobody had the money for it.
Fred put his hand on Micky's shoulder. "Let me know if I can help in any way, Micky."
"Thanks, Fred." Micky smiled. "Merry Christmas to you."
"Same to you, Micky." Fred replied. "Tell the others I wish them the same."
"I'll do that. Goodbye."
"Goodbye." Fred said as he left the office.
As soon as Fred left, Babbit got off his chair and walked over to the wreath. Without stopping, he yanked the wreath off the door and threw it into the garbage. Just then, the clock struck five. Babbit looked at his own watch to make sure it was indeed five, then looked at his employee.
"You may go now, Dolenz." Babbit snapped.
Yes, sir." Micky said and began to clean up his desk.
Babbit walked over to Micky.
"I suppose you'll be wanting the whole day off tomorrow." Babbit said.
"If it's not inconvenient, Mr. Babbit."
"It IS inconvenient, Dolenz." Babbit retorted. "But you'd think yourself ill-used if I didn't pay you for that day off, hmm?"
"It's only once a year, sir." Micky said.
"Poor excuse to pick a man's pocket every December 25th." Babbit said. "Very well, you may have the day off, but I expect you here at 9 a.m. sharp the day after!"
"Yes, sir, I'll be here." Micky said, relieved.
"Then be off with you." Babbit replied.
Micky nodded his head and quickly exited the office before his boss changed his mind. Babbit gave a disgusted sigh and went to make sure all the lights were turned off. Satisfied, that they were, Babbit left the office, locked the office door and went to the supermarket to buy himself a TV dinner. After buying the cheapest one he could find, he slowly walked home.

Babbit walked home from the store to his home, taking no notice of the merry people.
"Christmas, humbug," he said.
As Babbit approached his door, the knocker on the front took form into a human face.
"Babbit," said the knocker.
Babbit looked around, but saw nothing.
"All the hard work must be getting to me," he thought, turning his key into the door and letting himself in.
Babbit's house had ugly yellow paper on the walls, a brown plaid colored couch that didn't match with the walls or the dark green carpeting.
Babbit cooked up his TV dinner, and although it tasted terrible he ate it anyway. He then decided to watch some television to watch his favorite fishing show. But it was not on, due to the annual Holiday parade. After awhile flipping through the channels, Babbit turned the TV off.

Later that night, as Babbit was getting ready for bad, he made a decision.
"I'm going to sleep through Christmas," he said.
Just as he was adjusting the red and white striped nightcap on his head, he heard a voice, sounding like the one he heard earlier.
"Babbit," called the voice.
Babbit looked around the house, but saw nothing.
"I shouldn't have eaten that TV dinner," he said.
At that moment, a bright light shone into the room.
Babbit began to get nervous.
"Who's there?! He shouted “Show yourself!"
The light then formed into a person, just as the doorknocker formed into a face. Babbit knew who the figure was right away.
"Marley, is that you?" He asked.
"Yes it is Ebenezer," replied Marley.
He was dressed in tattered looking clothes, his bifocals sitting at the tip of his nose and had chains on him.
"Marley, I thought you were.." said Babbit.
"Dead?" asked Marley.
"Yes. Then how come you're here?"
"I've come to warn you Ebenezer. The way I am is my punishment for the way I acted when I was alive.”
Babbit gulped, and Marley continued.
"Tonight, you will be visit by three spirits. Listen to them, to what they say, or you'll end up like me."
And with that, Marley vanished in a puff of smoke.
Babbit couldn't believe he saw it, but then calmed down.
"Naw, it must be that awful turkey I ate," he said climbing into his bed.

Babbit slept peacefully. However, he was soon woken by a glowing blue light. Babbit became frightened of the glowing blue light that shone around his room. He pulled the covers over his head and began to shiver. Suddenly, the covers were gently pulled off his head. Babbit slowly opened his eyes.
What he saw was like nothing he had seen before. It was a young man with blond hair standing calmly before him. He wore a white robe and had a crown of leaves on his head. In his hand he held a small torch, which gave off a blue flame, the source of the light in the room.
"Hello, Ebenezer." The man said softly.
Babbit looked intently at the man's face; he'd seen that face before. Then it dawned on him. Whenever he went to pick up the rent money from his employee Dolenz, he would often see this man there.
"I know you!" Babbit exclaimed, "You are Peter..."
"I am the ghost of Christmas past, Ebenezer." The spirit said to him.
"Long past?" Babbit asked.
"No, your past." The spirit said, "I am the first of the three spirits that will visit you tonight."
"Bah, humbug!" Babbit shouted, getting over his fear quickly, "You were sent as a joke by Dolenz to scare me!"
"No, I was sent to help you." The spirit replied, "Come, I don't have much time. I have much to show you." He glided over to the window.
Babbit could see that the man's feet were not touching the ground and he became frightened again.
"But it is late, and I'm not properly dressed." Babbit said.
"Just touch my robe and you will be safe." The spirit replied, "Have no fear of me, but we must be off."
Against his better judgment, Babbit got up, put on his slippers and walked over to the spirit. Slowly, he reached out and touched the sleeve of the spirit's robe. Instantly the blue flame grew even brighter and suddenly they were no longer in Babbit's house. In fact, it seemed they were no longer even in California.
Babbit and the spirit were standing on a sidewalk across the street from a large old school. A light snow was falling and they could see several boys playing in the snow in front of the school. There was a large pile of luggage sitting off to one side, as if meant to be delivered to a bus. After several seconds, Babbit let out a gasp.
"What is it, Ebenezer?" Asked the spirit.
"This is my old school!" Babbit exclaimed. "Richland Boy's Academy! But it's been closed for years!"
"True, but we are in the past, Ebenezer, your past." The spirit said, "Let's go and get a better look. Don't worry, they cannot hear or see us."
Babbit and the spirit walked across the street and watched as the boys threw snowballs at each other. Babbit recognized several of the boys, but they did not hear him as he shouted their names. After awhile, a large bus appeared and the boys all shouted and ran off to collect their luggage.
"Ah, they are going home for Christmas break, I imagine." Babbit said with a slight smile. He watched as the boys excitedly climbed into the bus after stowing their luggage and then the bus driving away.
"Not everyone is going home, Ebenezer." The spirit reminded him. "Let's go inside to one of the classrooms."
Babbit and the spirit walked inside the school and into the first classroom they came upon. Inside was a young boy about thirteen years old standing there, looking out the window at the falling snow. With a shock, Babbit recognized the boy.
"That's me!" He shouted.
The spirit said nothing, just nodded his head. Babbit walked over to his younger self and noticed the young man was crying. The spirit joined Babbit.
"Yes, Ebenezer, is seems your father has chosen to let you stay at the dormitory instead of coming home for the holidays."
Babbit looked at the spirit. "Yes, my father always held a grudge against me, he never wanted me around."
"Because your mother died giving birth to you." The spirit nodded sadly, "As if that was your fault."
Babbit's eyes narrowed in anger at the unjust treatment he had been given as a youth. The spirit put a hand on Babbit's shoulder.
"But time has a way of mending hurts, Ebenezer. Look who's coming now."
Babbit turned to see a young woman of about sixteen run into the room. He knew instantly who it was.
"Bess! My sister Bess!" Babbit shouted happily.
But of course Bess couldn't hear or see Babbit and she simply ran over to the younger Babbit standing by the window.
"Ebenezer!" Bess exclaimed.
The younger Babbit turned at the sound of his name.
"Bess, oh Bess!" The younger Babbit shouted, giving his older sister a big hug. "What brings you here?"
"Oh, I have great news, Ebenezer!" Bess said, "Father has softened much over the last several months, and so I took the chance to ask him if you could come home for Christmas, and guess what? He said you could!"
"Oh, that's so wonderful, Bess!" The younger Babbit said happily. "I so much miss our family!"
"Even better news, Ebenezer!" Bess continued, "After this coming semester is over, he has agreed to put you in a regular school close to home, so you can come home everyday!"
"Oh, Bess!" The younger Babbit said, giving his sister another hug. "That's great!"
"Yes it is!" Bess agreed, "We can start to be a family again! Now gather your things, I have a car waiting for us!"
The younger Babbit took off at a run to his room and soon he and Bess were roaring off back to their home.
"What a great girl is Bess." The spirit said to Babbit.
"Yes, yes she was." Babbit agreed, "I miss her so much! But not too many years later, she married...." He trailed off, the memory too painful to continue.
"And she died giving birth just like her mother before her." The spirit said sympathetically, "Giving birth to your nephew Fred, and you hold a grudge against him for that."
Babbit just hung his head. "Take me out of here, Spirit. It's too painful for me to be here any longer."
The spirit touched Babbit's arm and the blue light blazed again. When it subsided, they were standing on the sidewalk outside of a small office situated at the edge of a beach.
Babbit recognized the place immediately.
"This is my office! He said.
"Not now it's not." The spirit answered, "Look at the sign."
Babbit looked at the sign hanging above the door: Fezziwig Real Estate Agency
"Oh, my, I had forgotten about old Fezziwig!"
"Who was he?" The spirit asked Babbit.
"My first and last employer." Babbit replied, "After graduating from high school, my father gave me my share of his inheritance on the condition I go far away. So, I came to California and got a job working for Fezziwig."
"Yes, you met many new people out here." The spirit said.
Babbit nodded. "Yes, I met Marley here. He too was trying to make a go of it in real estate. We hit it off pretty quick."
"Let's look inside." The spirit said.
Babbit and the spirit went inside. There they found a young Babbit and Marley working at their desks. Just then, an older rather plump gentleman came out of his office and looked at the two men.
"That's Fezziwig!" Babbit said happily to the spirit.
"You have fond memories of him?" The spirit asked.
"Yes, he was a kind man and a gentle boss, never yelling or getting angry...." Babbit stopped, thinking of all the times he had yelled at Dolenz. The spirit smiled at Babbit, but said nothing.
"That's enough now, Ebenezer and Jacob!" Fezziwig said laughing, "It's time to get ready for the Christmas party!"
"Yeah!" The two younger men shouted as they put their books away. They quickly began to clean up the area and put up Christmas decorations.
Not much later, a catering truck stopped in front of the office and two men delivered several trays of food.
"Wow! Look at all this!" The younger Marley said to the younger Babbit.
"Yeah, Mr. Fezziwig sure knows how to give a party!" The younger Babbit answered.
A little while later, people began to arrive, business associates and friends of Fezziwig's. A record was put on the turntable and people began to dance to the big band sound of the 1930's. The spirit noticed Babbit smiling.
"This brings back good memories, doesn't it, Ebenezer?"
"Well, yes, but...all that food. Fezziwig just did all this to keep his clients happy, so that they'll continue to do business with him."
"Really? You don't think he did this because he enjoyed Christmas?"
"Well...." Babbit hedged, then went silent.
The spirit directed his attention to a couple sitting in the corner of the room. It was the younger Babbit and a young woman with dark brown hair and wearing a green dress.
"Oh my...Margaret..." Babbit whispered.
"Who is Margaret?" The spirit asked.
"She and I...were engaged to be married at one time." Babbit said, still whispering. “I believe this is where I proposed to her."
"What happened?" The spirit asked again.
Babbit didn't answer. He just watched as his younger self took a small box out of his pocket, open it and get down on one knee. Margaret looked with shock at the ring, and nodded her head. The younger Babbit smiled and put the ring on her finger before they kissed. The spirit led Babbit over to the happy couple.
"Oh, Maggie, I'm so happy you've agreed to be my wife." The younger Babbit said. "I know that ring isn't much, but I promise you a better life, a much better life!"
"Oh, Ebenezer." Margaret said, "I don't care about wealth, all I want is to be with you for the rest of my life!"
The two kissed once again. Suddenly, the room went bright again and Babbit found himself in a small living room.
"Oh, no, Spirit!" Babbit exclaimed, "Not here!"
"Several months have now passed," The spirit said to him, "And you and Marley are beginning to make a name for yourselves in real estate, aren't you?"
"Yes, but..."
"But having money began to change you. You forgot about the little things in life and began to chase after more and more money." The spirit said.
"That's the way things are!" Babbit said defensively, "You must have a lot of money if you are to survive in this world!"
Just then, Margaret and the younger Babbit entered the living room. They sat down and Margaret looked at her fiancé.
"The reason I asked you over to my house, Ebenezer, is that I have something important to tell you."
"What is it?" The younger Babbit demanded, "You know I've got things to do!"
"I'm breaking off our engagement." She said, tears in her eyes.
"What!" The younger Babbit shouted, "Why? What have I done?"
"You've replaced me in your heart with another." Margaret said sadly.
"There is no other woman!" Babbit retorted.
"Not a woman, but an object; money." Margaret said.
"But, Maggie, I promised you I would give you a better life!" The younger Babbit said, "This is how I am going to do it!"
"By foreclosing on people's houses?" Margaret asked, "By buying up houses for as little as you can and then charging huge rents?"
"There is a building boom going on, Maggie. People are moving to this state in droves. I intend to take full advantage of it."
"I'm sure Mr. Fezziwig would appreciate that, but then again, you and Marley made deals behind his back and drove him out of business."
"You have to stay competitive or you die, Maggie!" The younger Babbit shouted, "Fezziwig couldn't understand that!"
Margaret simply took her diamond ring off her finger and laid it on the coffee table. "Here is your ring, Ebenezer. I will not marry a man who loves money more than me."
The younger Babbit glared at her for a few seconds, then picked up his ring and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"NO, don't go!" Babbit shouted after his younger self, then looked over at Margaret. She was sobbing. Babbit began to sob as well.
"Why did you show me these things!" He shouted at the spirit. "Why torture me this way?!"
"You needed to be reminded of how you got to be like you are now in the first place if you are to start healing." The spirit replied, then looked at his torch. The flame was growing weaker.
"I'll have no more of you!" Babbit shouted and snatched the torch out of the spirit's hand. Instantly everything went black for a few seconds, then Babbit found himself back in his bedroom. The clock in his room showed that it was almost two a.m. With slow, shaky steps, he climbed back onto his bed, and tried to sort out what he had just seen. Suddenly, a yellow light began to shine in his room..... The light faded, leaving only a brightly wrapped gift.
Babbit approached the gift and picked it up.
"I bet it’s a fruitcake," he grumbled opening the box. "Why do people send them to me, I hate fruitcake!"
At that moment, a figure popped out of the gift.
"Who are you calling fruitcake?" said the figure.
Babbit took a closer look at the figure. It turned out to be a young man, dressed in peddler type clothing, and looked familiar to a person that Babbit knew.
"Dolenz! what do you think you're doing at my house at this hour?! As a matter of fact, what are you doing in my house in the first place?!" “I’m the ghost of Christmas present, that’s why I hid in this present, get it?” The spirit began to laugh, but Babbit didn't find anything funny about the situation at all.
The spirit then stopped laughing and began to speak, “I’ve come to show you what's happening right now."
The spirit snapped his fingers and the two of them were no longer in Babbit's house but in a different place.
"Where are we?” Asked Babbit, “What a minute, this place looks familiar to me."
"Of course, we're in the home of your employee." said the spirit.
Just then, someone entered the room where Babbit and the spirit were standing in, and walked right through them.
"Say, who's that honest looking, handsome face person?" asked the spirit.
"That's my worker Dolenz," said Babbit.
He noticed that Micky's friend and band mate Mike was taking a plate out of the oven that contained a scrawny looking turkey.
"What the heck is Nesmith planning on doing, carving a canary? Surely they must have more food than that."
Babbit noticed a pot on the stove.
"Why don't they eat what's in the pot?" he asked.
"They can't." said the spirit.
"And why not?"
"That's their laundry."
Just then, Peter, another person who lived at the house, came downstairs.
"How’s Davy doing there, Peter?" asked Mike.
"Not good I'm afraid,” sighed Peter, “His temperature keeps rising."
"What the matter with Davy?” Asked Babbit, “Not that I care anyway.”
"A few days ago, Davy saved a child who fell into the lake. It was a real cold day, and Davy came down with a terrible cold," said the spirit.
"Can't he just go to a doctor?"
"They can't afford it."
Babbit was silent for a moment as he thought about what the spirit told him. He then looked at the spirit.
"I'm paying Dolenz more than he's worth." Babbit said, but without much conviction. He slowly realized the men in that room couldn't afford a doctor because he wasn't paying Dolenz enough and said nothing more.
"You got kinda quiet there, Ebenezer." The spirit said after a minute or two had passed.
"Just thinking, that's all." Babbit replied.
A few minutes later, Mike called Peter and Micky to the table, and they sat down to eat their scrawny turkey.
"I wish Davy could join us." Peter said sadly.
"Yeah, poor Davy." Mike replied, "He's never been a healthy person in the first place. In fact his grandfather sent him out here in the hope that the ocean air would help him, but it hasn't. Now this had to happen."
"But he saved a young boy's life." Micky added.
"True, but did he have to get sick? Is that his reward for doing good?" Mike replied, getting a little angry.
"I'll be alright, Mike. *cough*" Davy said as he slowly came down the steps.
"Davy! What are you doing up? You should be in bed!" Peter said, rising from his chair.
"I should be here celebrating Christmas Eve with you three." Davy said with a cough.
He walked over to the table and took his seat. The other three looked at each other, but said nothing. Mike cleared his throat.
"Well, let's have a toast, then." He said, raising his glass of milk. The others joined him. Peter poured a glass for Davy.
"What shall we toast?" Peter asked.
"A toast for Ebenezer Babbit, the founder of this feast!" Micky exclaimed.
"WHAT?!" The others shouted at him, especially Mike.
"You would toast that mean, tight-fisted old man who can't pay you a decent wage?!" Mike almost shouted at Micky.
"Why you..." Babbit started to say, but was restrained by the spirit's hand on his shoulder.
"Well, yeah, Mike." Micky said with a shrug, "We haven't been getting many gigs, so my paycheck was used to pay for all this."
"Besides, Mike," Peter said, "It is Christmas."
"Alright, then," Mike said, "I'll toast him for Micky's sake, but not his. To Ebenezer Babbit, a long and happy life to him."
"To Ebenezer Babbit." The others said, not very happily, then they took a drink of milk.
"A *cough* toast to all of us." Davy said, "Friends through and through!"
"To all of us." The others replied and drank again. Then they started to eat their supper, laughing and joking with one another.
The spirit looked at Babbit.
"Interesting how they can be so happy with so little, isn't it, Ebenezer?"
"Bah! Davy's sick and with little food, they're just deluding themselves!" Babbit said with a sneer.
"But they have each other." The spirit replied, "Their friendship is something you can't put a price on."
Babbit just sniffed, but his eyes were thoughtful. Soon the meal was over and the four of them went over to the small Christmas tree they had in the middle of the room. They sat down in front of it.
"Well, fellas," Davy said, coughing into his hand. "Let's sing some Christmas carols."
"Feel up to it, Davy?" Mike asked.
"Yeah, I'll be ok."
So Mike brought over his guitar and began to play 'Silent Night' and other Christmas tunes. When the next song was 'Jingle Bells', Davy got up, went over to the bandstand, and picked up his tambourine.
"Can't have 'Jingle Bells' without some bells now, can we?" He asked with a smile as he sat down.
The others smiled in return, but were worried that Davy was looking worse than ever. Still, they all started to sing;
"Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, jingle all the way! Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh, eh!" As Davy banged on his tambourine.
Babbit and the spirit watched all this in silence. Finally, Babbit looked over at the spirit, his face puzzled.
"What's wrong, Ebenezer?" The spirit asked.
"I can't understand this. How can they be so happy?" Babbit asked quietly. "Why did Dolenz stick up for me earlier?"
"A little something called the Christmas spirit." The spirit answered him, "Plus something called kindness and understanding....oh, and love."
Suddenly, in the middle of 'Jingle Bells', Davy slumped over in a faint. Mike immediately picked him up and carried him back up into his bedroom. Micky and Peter followed him, fear and concern clearly showing on their faces.
Babbit looked over at the spirit once again.
"Tell me, spirit. Will Davy live?"
The spirit's face took on a far-away look for a few seconds, then he looked somberly at Babbit.
"I see an unused tambourine and a pair of maracas sitting on the bandstand."
"No, oh no!" Babbit exclaimed, "Do something for Davy, Spirit!" Babbit shouted at him.
"Why?" The spirit retorted, his face angry, "Let the less fortunate die, and decrease the surplus population!"
"You...you're using my own words against me!" Babbit said, his voice shaking.
"Now you know the folly of such words, don't you, Ebenezer?" The spirit asked, still a little angry.
"Yes, yes!" Babbit shouted, "Oh, please, just leave me alone! Just go away! GO AWAY!"
The spirit snapped his fingers and Babbit found himself all alone in his bedroom once again. The clock showed that it was almost three o'clock. Babbit sat down on his bed and tried to think about all that he had just seen.
Suddenly, it seemed to grow very cold in the room and then a dark purple light began to shine all around him. The light subsided and a tall figure wearing black jeans, boots and a black leather jacket stood there...... "Are you the spirit of Christmas yet to come?" Babbit asked, shaking in front of the dark figure.
The spirit nodded its head in a yes manner. Although the spirit was fully there, the room was so dark Babbit couldn't see it's face.
Suddenly, the scene changed, no longer were they in Babbit's home, but somewhere else.
The two stood standing in the local cemetery.
"Spirit, why did you bring me here?" Asked Babbit.
Just then, he heard something that sounding like crying. The dark-clothed spirit pointed towards the sound, and Babbit realized it wanted him to see who was crying. He took a few steps, then stopped and faced the spirit.
"Spirit, I..." Babbit paused as he got a good look at the spirit's face. To his surprise, it looked like Dolenz's friend Mike.
The spirit that looked like Mike simply pointed once again at the sound of crying.
"Oh, spirit, I fear you more than the other spirits." Babbit said quietly, "Can't you speak?"
The spirit grabbed Babbit's shoulder and turned him around towards the crying sound. Babbit got the hint and slowly walked over to where a funeral was being held. As he got closer, he recognized his employee Dolenz along with Mike and Peter. They were the source of the crying. Coming closer, Babbit saw a casket on the ground next to an open grave with a minister saying a few words over it. A few other people were there too, friends of the deceased, including an elderly man whose face was etched with pain.
The minister finished his prayer, sprinkled some dirt on the casket, made the sign of the cross over it and walked away. The other people started to walk away as well, some leaving flowers, others touching the casket as they walked by. In the end, only Micky, Mike, Peter and the older man were standing there weeping. Babbit had a sick feeling in his stomach as to who was in that casket. He started to walk away, but was stopped by the spirit, who pointed once again at the three crying men. Reluctantly, Babbit came closer.
"Poor Davy." Micky wailed, "He was so young and to die like this!"
"He saved that child from drowning, but now lost his own life." Peter sobbed.
The elderly man touched the casket, his face streaked with tears. "My Davy. My grandson." He wept. He then walked over to the other three.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Jones," Mike said, wiping his eyes, "We did our best, but we couldn't afford a doctor."
"I know, Mike." Davy's grandfather said, "Davy was always sickly, and this simply....hastened the inevitable."
"That miser Babbit doesn't pay me enough!" Micky said angrily, "If I was making more money, we could've taken him to a doctor."
"This is his fault!" Peter exclaimed, "I hope he rots in..." Peter's sobs overtook him and he couldn't finish his sentence.
The others were surprised at Peter's outburst, since he was usually so kind and gentle. But Davy's death had changed all that. The cemetery men came over to bury the casket, so the four of them left to go back to their car. Babbit watched as the men lowered the casket into the ground and started to throw dirt upon it.
"Oh, no, no, no." Babbit whispered as tears fell from his eyes, "This is all my fault, my fault!" He looked at the stone-faced spirit. "Spirit, is this what must happen or what may happen in the future? Tell me!"
But the spirit folded his arms across his chest and the scene changed once again. This time they were in a disreputable part of town, in front of a second-hand shop. The spirit pointed at the door and Babbit obediently went inside. Inside was an old lady. Babbit recognized her as a homeless lady who often walked along the beach. She had a bag of things with her, which she placed on the front counter and opened up.
"Well now, Linda, what did you scrounge up today?" The man behind the counter said with a small smile.
"I hit the jackpot!" Linda said happily. "A rich old man died and I got to him before anybody else did!"
"Let's see what you got." The man replied.
Linda brought out curtains and other articles of clothing. She placed them on the counter. Babbit stood behind her, wondering why the spirit had brought him here in the first place. As he watched the items come out of the bag, he suddenly realized something: those items belonged to him!
"What are you doing with my clothes?" Babbit demanded of Linda, but of course, she didn't hear him. "Spirit, why is she selling my belongings?"
The spirit gave what seemed to Babbit a tiny shrug, but did nothing else. The man behind the counter looked at all the clothes and other items Linda had brought in.
"Not bad, not bad at all..." He said thoughtfully. “I'll give you fifty dollars for the lot, take it or leave it."
"Fifty dollars!" Linda shouted, "You're a thief!"
"You try any other place, and they won't be as generous as me, my dear." The man smiled.
"Oh, alright." Linda sighed and held out her hand.
Babbit tried to stop the man from giving Linda the money, but his hand went right through them. He glared at the spirit still standing nearby.
"Spirit, do something!" Babbit demanded.
The spirit did do something. Suddenly, the scene changed once again and Babbit found himself at city hall. He often went there to file claims and lawsuits. Babbit looked at the spirit once again.
"Why here, spirit? I wish you would talk to me!"
The spirit pointed to a group of men standing around the front steps having a coffee break. Babbit recognized them from the deeds office. He walked over to them.
"Well, I guess everybody has to die sometime." One man said.
"Yeah, even someone with all the money he had." Another man answered, shaking his head.
"What did he die from?" Another man asked.
"Who know, who cares." A fourth man said, "All I can say is good riddance! I was tired of him coming to our office pestering us for stuff."
"Didn't have a decent bone in his body." The first man said, "He was always rude, even when we tried to be nice to him, and I feel sorry for all those poor people he evicted.”
"I wonder who's getting his money?" The second man asked.
"I know I'm not." The third man said. Everybody laughed at that.
Babbit had a sinking feeling of who they were talking about, but asked the spirit who it was. The spirit just shook his head.
"Come now, spirit!" Babbit said, "Who was that man that those men seemed to love to hate?"
Suddenly, the scene changed one more time. Once again, they were in the local cemetery. But this time they were in a poorly kept section, with weeds all around. Old gravestones, some toppled over, were everywhere. The air seemed to grow cold once again.
"Spirit, are you going to tell me who that unfortunate man was?" Babbit asked, starting to shake.
The spirit pointed to a grave just a few feet away. Babbit had a bad feeling about this, and tried to stall for time.
"Spirit, tell me, please! Can what I've seen be changed? Are these things set in stone?" Babbit fell to his knees. "Please spirit, I'm so afraid!"
But the spirit grabbed Babbit's chin and pointed to the grave once again. Babbit crawled over to the stone marker, all covered in moss and debris. He brushed it away to get a better look at the name. He read the name and let out a scream. The stone read:

Ebenezer Babbit followed by the years of his birth and death.

Babbit fell against the marker and started to sob. He was the man who was so hated, so despised by those men. His stinginess helped bring about Davy's death! Babbit sobbed like never before for what seemed like hours. Finally, he got back up on his knees and faced the spirit.
"Spirit, I promise I will amend my life!" He gasped, "I will be more loving and kind to my fellow human beings! I will work to change what I have seen, please let me go back so I can make things right! Please, please, spirit!" Babbit grabbed onto the spirit’s legs.
Suddenly, everything went black and Babbit found himself back in his bedroom. He looked at his hands and saw he was grabbing the leg of his bed. Stunned, he stood up and sat once again on his bed.
In the distance, he heard church bells ring.....
Babbit listened to the bells of St. Mary's chiming for several seconds before he realized the significance of it. The church only rang its bell on Sundays or holidays....holidays like Christmas! He had often complained about the bells waking him up, now they were the sweetest of sounds to his ears.
Babbit pulled off his nightcap, with unsteady legs walked over to the window, and opened it. Putting his head out, he could hear the bells much better. It was early morning, but there was no one about. Babbit was about pull his head back in when a young boy of about ten started to walk past his house.
"Hey! You there boy!" Babbit yelled.
"Me?" The boy asked.
"Yes, you my lad. Can you tell me what day it is?"
The boy stopped and looked at Babbit as if he was crazy.
"Why, it's Christmas Day of course!"
"OH! Christmas Day!" Babbit shouted happily, "I didn't miss it after all! The spirits did it all in one night!"
The boy shook his head and started to walk away when Babbit called down once again.
"Wait, don't go!" He yelled, "Do you know the doctor who has his house and office two streets over from here?"
"I should, I live right next door to him." The boy answered.
"Oh, such an intelligent boy!" Babbit cried, "Please, go to him and tell him to come to this address right away!"
"Ahhh!" The boy waved his hand at Babbit and started to walk away again. Obviously this guy was nuts.
"No, please, I am in earnest!" Babbit replied, "I need him to take care of a very sick person." Babbit reached into a drawer near the window and pulled out a coin purse. He pulled out a Kennedy silver dollar and threw it to the boy.
"Here. If you come back with the doctor soon, I'll give you five dollars. Come with him within the next ten minutes, and it'll be ten dollars!"
"Yeah!" The boy shouted and ran off to the doctor's house.
Babbit chuckled, pulled his head inside, and closed the window. Not wasting any time, he walked into the next room where he had his office. Pulling out a phone book, he began to look up some numbers. Babbit knew that most places would be closed today; but he also knew though his long years in business that money talked....and he intended to do a lot of talking today. Finally finding what he wanted, Babbit picked up the phone's receiver and began dialing.

It was a long, sad Christmas Eve as Micky, Mike and Peter kept a vigil by Davy's bed. They had tried cold compresses and aspirin, but Davy's fever was getting worse. Christmas morning had come, and Davy was no better.
"We gotta take him to the hospital." Mike said, "They can't turn someone as sick as Davy away."
"Yeah, besides, all the doctors' offices will be closed today." Micky added.
"We'll probably lose everything trying to pay for Davy's care, but it'll be worth it." Peter said.
Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. Micky went downstairs to answer it, hoping it wasn't Babbit telling him he had changed his mind about work today. Opening the door, Micky found a young man in his thirties wearing a white coat and carrying a black bag standing there.
"Can I help you?" Micky asked.
"Yes, my name is Dr. Kildare. Does a Mr. David Jones live here?"
"Yes he does." Micky replied.
"Good. I've been told he needs to see a doctor very bad. Can I come in?"
"Sure, He's up here, but we can't pay..."
The doctor held his hand up as he walked inside. "Don't worry about that. It's all been taken care of. Where is he?"
Micky led the doctor upstairs to the large bedroom all four of them shared and the doctor quickly began to examine Davy. Mike and Peter looked at Micky but all Micky could do was shrug his shoulders. Babbit had told the doctor what was wrong with Davy, so he came prepared with the right medicine. He gave Davy a shot, then with Mike's help, gave Davy two teaspoons of cough syrup. Finally, the doctor moved away from Davy's bed and the other three followed him.
"The shot I gave Davy will reduce his fever and the special cough syrup will help control his cough." Doctor Kildare said quietly before anybody could ask anything. "I'm going to write out a prescription for more cough syrup and have it filled at the hospital pharmacy since the drug stores will all be closed today."
"Thank you Doctor Kildare." Micky said sincerely, shaking his hand, but who...how?"
The doctor shook his head. "I've been given strict orders not to tell you who sent me. All expenses are being taken care of. I'm going to stay until Davy's fever breaks and then get his prescription filled and have it sent over to you."
"Thank you again, Doc." Mike said.
"I'll be back tomorrow morning to check up on him as well."
The three men all hugged the doctor; they were so happy that Davy was being treated.
Not long afterwards, Davy broke out in a sweat. His fever had broken and he opened his eyes a little. The doctor and the others gathered around.
"Feeling better, shotgun?" Mike asked.
"Yeah, yeah I am..." Davy said quietly.
"You're going to be fine, Mr. Jones." Doctor Kildare told him, "I'll be back to check up on you tomorrow."
With that, he bid the others goodbye and left the house.
Secretly watching from behind a tree across the street, Babbit smiled as the doctor gave him a secret 'thumbs up' sign as he got back into his car.

More surprises awaited the four men as Christmas day went on. Not long after Dr. Kildare left, a delivery truck from Balsamo's market arrived with boxes and bags of groceries. The deliverymen had been well paid not to tell who had ordered the food for them, despite the pleadings of the occupants, just that everything had been taken care of. Later, a young man from the hospital arrived with more cough syrup, followed by a yet another delivery truck. This one was from Wonder Appliances and it brought a washer, dryer and a new refrigerator to keep all the food they had received. The guys were flabbergasted at all the things they had been getting, and had no clue who could've sent it all. The whole time, Babbit stayed behind the tree across the street and chuckled as he watched the stuff being delivered.
Inside the house, Davy was feeling much better. Micky, Mike and Peter all made very sure Davy took his medicine and stayed comfortable. As they all feasted on some of the new food, they talked about who might've sent the doctor and all the stuff. Davy had an idea, but said nothing since the others would think he was getting a fever again.
Outside, Babbit looked at his watch and with a shock, noticed the time. He discreetly walked away from the house he had been watching and hailed a cab. There was something else he needed to do today.

Babbit told the driver the address and soon they were on their way. A few blocks from his destination, Babbit spotted Smith and Wesson unloading a small car. It looked like they were unloading Christmas packages for the orphanage they were parked in front of. Babbit tapped the driver on the shoulder.
"Stop, driver!" He said excitedly, "Let me out here!" Babbit handed several bills to the shocked driver and jumped out of the cab. "Thank you and a Merry Christmas to you!"
"Thank YOU, sir!" The driver smiled, "And the same to you!"
The cab roared away and Babbit ran over to Smith and Wesson.
"Hello, gentlemen!" Babbit exclaimed, "Merry Christmas to you!"
"Oh, Mr. Babbit." Smith stuttered, "Merry Christmas to you too." Wesson just stared at Babbit, unable to believe the change in the man. He just nodded his head.
"Doing the good work of the U.C.C I see." Babbit smiled.
"Yes, these toys are going to be given to the orphans inside." Wesson finally said.
"Excellent, excellent!" Babbit said, clapping his hands, then turned serious. "I'm so sorry for how I acted yesterday afternoon gentlemen, and I'd like to make amends. You asked me for a donation, so I would like to give...." Babbit whispered a figure into Smith's ear.
Smith nearly dropped the packages he was holding.
"You…you mean that, Mr. Babbit?" He asked.
"Oh, yes I do. There are a lot of back payments in that amount!" Babbit said happily. "Come to my office tomorrow and we can make all the arrangements. Now, I must go visit someone. Good day gentlemen, and a Merry Christmas to you both!"
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Babbit!" Smith and Wesson replied.
When Babbit was out of earshot, Wesson asked Smith how much Babbit had promised. Smith told him and Wesson nearly dropped the packages he was holding as well. Smiling, the two men made their way into the orphanage.

Babbit practically skipped the last few blocks to his destination. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door. A few seconds later, it was opened by his nephew Fred.
"Uncle Ebenezer!" Fred exclaimed.
"Hello, Fred." Babbit said, "May I come in?"
"Of course!" Fred exclaimed, opening the door wider for his uncle, "I'm so glad you decided to come after all!"
"Thank you, Fred." Babbit said, stepping inside, "I'm glad I was able to come."
Fred escorted his uncle to the living room. Inside, there were several other people sitting around talking. When Babbit and Fred came inside, everyone looked up. When they recognized the newcomer, they stopped talking as well. A young woman, Fred's wife Wilma, heard the sudden silence and came into the living room from the kitchen.
"Why did it get so quiet all of a sudden?" She asked, then saw Fred with his uncle. "Oh, hello there, Uncle Ebenezer." She said, unsure of how to act or what to say.
"Hello, my dear Wilma." Babbit said, crossing over to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas to you and thank you for inviting me. The ham smells delicious."
"Why thank you, Uncle Ebenezer." Wilma replied, a little shocked. This was the first time she could remember him being so kind. She turned to the other guests. "Everyone, this is my husband's uncle Ebenezer Babbit."
"Hello, everyone!" Babbit said cheerfully, "I'm sure you all have heard of me, and by the looks on some of your faces, you must owe me back rent!"
Several people in the room started to look uncomfortable. Babbit stated to chuckle and looked around the room.
"But don't worry, I've got a bad case of Christmas spirit and it seems I've forgotten where I put my ledger book! So, it looks like I'll have to forgive any back rent due and in fact I won't be able to charge any rent next month, either!"
That remark brightened the room considerably and everybody began to laugh and relax once again. Soon, it was time for supper and Babbit sat down to a meal with other people for the first time in many years. As the meal drew to its end, Fred looked over at his uncle.
"Uncle, may I ask you something?"
"Yes, of course."
Fred hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "Why the sudden change, why so..."
"Happy?" Babbit smiled, "So joyful and full of the Christmas spirit?"
"Yes, that's exactly it."
Babbit gave his nephew a loving smile. "You could say it came to me in a dream, Fred. I suddenly realized how I was wasting my life, my opportunities to do good for others." Babbit was silent a minute. "But that is going to change. Tell me, how is that dry-cleaning business going?"
"Ok, I suppose,” Fred shrugged, "But I sometimes wish I could do something else."
"Yes, I always thought that was a waste of your talents." Babbit replied, "So I've decided to make you a partner in my business."
Fred's jaw dropped. "A...partner?" He stammered.
"Yes, indeed, a full partner." Babbit said, "I could use someone with your business skills to help me out. It's become a bit much to take care of by myself, and I'm not as young as I used to be." Babbit smiled. "Well? What do you say?"
"I say YES!" Fred nearly shouted, "And thank you so much, uncle, thank you!" Fred exclaimed, shaking his uncle hand.
"Yes to what, Fred?" Wilma asked as she came over to the table to serve the coffee.
"Uncle Ebenezer is making me a full partner in his business!"
"It couldn't have come at a better time!" Wilma said, then whispered in Fred's ear.
When Fred heard what his wife told him, he stood up and hugged her tight.
"Oh, that's marvelous, dear!" Fred said, kissing her.
"What's marvelous?" Babbit asked.
"I'm going to be a father!" Fred exclaimed to his uncle and the others in the room.
Everyone cheered and toasted the happy couple. The party went on for a long time, then Babbit realized the time. He hated to leave, but he wanted to make extra sure he got to his office earlier than usual. There was still one more thing he had to correct.

As promised, Dr. Kildare came to see Davy early the next morning. He was pleased with Davy's progress and said he would be back to his usual (though not quite healthy) self in a few days. Now, Micky rushed around the pad in an extra frantic speed than usual. He and the other Monkees had such a good time last night that he overslept and was now running around the living room trying to find his necktie.
"Will you guys quit looking at all the new stuff we got yesterday and help me find my tie?" He yelled.
Mike and Peter got up and helped him look, while Davy stayed where he was at the kitchen table. He was doing a lot better, but still weak. Davy couldn't help but smile as pillows and other objects went flying around the pad. Finally, Mike came up with a red and blue piece of cloth.
"Here's one, Micky." He said.
Micky snatched it out of Mike's hand and put it around his neck. He would tie it as he ran over to Babbit's office. "Thanks Mike. I gotta go now, so bye!"
"Bye, Micky!" Peter and Mike replied as Micky ran out the front door, slamming it behind him.
Peter and Mike went back to the kitchen table and sat down once again. Davy was still staring at the refrigerator.
"Davy, what's on your mind?" Peter asked.
"It might sound crazy, but I think I know who sent us all this neat stuff." Davy replied.
"Well, spill it!" Mike said.
"I think Mr. Babbit did all this."
Peter reached over and felt Davy's forehead for a fever. Davy pulled his head away from Peter's hand.
"I feel fine, fellas, really I do." Davy said to his friends, "But just think about it. Who would have the money to buy all this and have it delivered on Christmas? Who knew I was sick?"
"Maybe Micky's buddy Fred." Mike answered. "He's also Babbit's nephew and might have a little money."
"No, from what I've heard, Babbit hasn't helped Fred at all." Peter said, "Fred is just getting by with his dry-cleaning business so he wouldn't have sent all this."
"And Babbit squeezes the nickel until Lincoln screams." Mike added, shaking his head.
"Still, I just have that feeling..." Davy said, drinking his milk.

Babbit sat at his desk and looked with satisfaction at his watch as the clock in the outer office chimed nine a.m. He knew Micky would be late today, and had made sure to be here extra early. Sure enough, one minute past nine Babbit heard the creak of the front door and could imagine his employee sneaking over to his desk. Waiting until Micky was at his desk, he let out a yell.
"DOLENZ! GET IN HERE!"
Micky jumped a foot off his chair and ran into Babbit's office. He was greeted by the unflinching glare of Babbit's eyes.
"You called for me, Mr. Babbit?" Micky squeaked.
"Yes I did, Dolenz." Babbit snapped, "What do you mean by arriving here one minute late for work, after you had promised two days ago to be here at nine a.m....SHARP?!"
"Me...me and my friends were making merry last night sir." Micky stammered.
"Ah, yes, it was Christmas yesterday, wasn't it?" Babbit asked nastily.
"Yes sir, oh please sir, it won't happen again." Micky begged.
"It certainly will not, Dolenz." Babbit said haughtily, "I've had enough of your tomfoolery! Therefore...I am doubling your salary."
Micky stared at his boss, not sure that he had heard right. "You're...doubling my salary, Mr. Babbit?" He asked slowly.
"Did I say doubling?" Babbit asked, becoming less harsh, "I meant to say tripling, retroactive from the first day you began to work for me, which means you'll be getting quite a paycheck this Friday!" Babbit gave Micky a big smile.
Micky gave a big smile back at his boss, and slowly began to back out of the office. Obviously, Babbit had flipped and Micky had to get out of there and call the mental hospital to have Babbit committed! But Babbit saw what Micky was doing and guessed his intentions. He stood up and walked over to Micky.
"No, Micky, I haven't lost my senses, I've come to them!" Babbit said, still smiling. "You've been so loyal to me, and I've been so mean. So I'm going to do my best to make it up to you."
"Thank you, Mr. Babbit!" Micky said, shaking Babbit's hand.
"You're more than welcome, Micky. Tell me, how's little Davy? I heard he was sick."
"He's doing a lot better now." Micky replied.
"That's good, very good!" Babbit replied, "Don't worry, I'm going to make sure he gets the operation he needs and help your other friends out as well!"
Micky was so happy, he forgot himself and hugged Babbit! Realizing what he was doing, he pulled away quickly, but Babbit just laughed.
"Now go, Micky, take the rest of the day off! Take care of Davy! Then tomorrow we'll see about getting this awful furniture replaced and getting you some new office supplies!"
"Thank you again, Mr. Babbit!" Micky said as he made for the door, "And Merry Christmas to you!"
"And to you and your friends as well, Micky!" Babbit replied.
With a wave, Micky left the office and ran back to the pad to tell the others the good news.

Babbit was better than his word. After Davy fully recovered from his bad cold, Babbit arranged an operation for the young man. Thankfully, the operation was successful and Davy would not die. Babbit even arranged for Davy's grandfather to come over for a visit. When Davy came home to a pad filled with presents, he and the others cried and thanked Babbit for what he had done.
"Thank you, Mr. Babbit." Davy said to him, "May God bless you, and God bless us all...everyone!"
Babbit spent his remaining years spreading the Christmas spirit to others all year round. There was never a more kind employer or greater friend of the needy than he. When Babbit did die, he was greatly mourned as a true friend and benefactor, a great keeper of the spirit of Christmas.


THE END and Merry Christmas to all!

Snowbound With The Monkees

By:  Larrysgirl   Rated G

"I don't believe this!" Chris Anderson exclaimed as she and her three younger sisters looked out the front window of their California mountain home. It was snowing so hard, they could barely see the street outside.
"This isn't fair!" Replied Chris' fourteen-year-old sister Arlene. "How can it snow now?"
"Well, we are in the mountains." Chris said, "But it usually doesn't snow at this time of year."
"I'll bet it’s nice and sunny at our other house in Palm Springs."
Another sister, Marcia, who was ten, said sullenly. "Why did Dad want to meet the Monkees here anyway?"
"To get away from the Hollywood scene, so everybody can relax while they work out a new record deal." Chris said.
The youngest of the sisters, seven-year-old Stephanie, looked like she was ready to cry.
"I hope Mommy and Daddy and the Monkees are OK." She said.
The Anderson sisters' Mom and Dad, a record exec, had gone back to LA to visit a sick friend, and were supposed to be home before the Monkees arrived. Now, with the unexpected snowstorm blowing outside, it looked like everyone was going to be delayed.
"They'll be fine, Steph." Chris said patting her little sis on the head, "They just have to drive slowly to be safe."

Mike Nesmith grumbled as he drove his Buick through the snow. He didn't really want to meet with yet another suit, but he knew Gerry Anderson had connections that could help keep the Monkees on top.
Now, he began to regret agreeing to meet up in the mountains. He never liked driving in what little snow he saw in Texas, and this snowstorm made him realize why. His car slid more times than he'd liked, but finally he got onto the correct road and drove over to
Anderson's house. Good thing he had asked for explicit instructions on how to get here, otherwise he'd have been lost for sure by now.
After several long minutes, the house in question appeared and Mike pulled into the wide driveway.

"Someone's here!" Arlene said excitedly.
"We can see that." Chris replied, "Now remember girls, even though it's one of the Monkees, he's still a guest, so don't be hanging onto him."
"You sound like Mom!" Marcia said.
"And you're only twenty!" Stephanie put in.
"I know, but while Mom and Dad are gone, I have to be the Mom." Chris replied, "Now behave yourselves."
"OK." Arlene, Marcia and Stephanie said.
The four girls went down to greet their guest.
"Who do you think it'll be?" Marcia asked the others.
"Micky!" Stephanie said instantly.
The other three laughed. Stephanie had made it no secret she loved Micky and that crazy, curly hair of his.
Upon reaching the door, Chris opened it before Mike could knock.
"Hi! C'mon in!" Chris said to Mike.
"Thank you, Ma'am." Mike replied walking inside.
Mike's sour mood about the snow evaporated when he saw the sweet smiling faces of Arlene, Marcia and Stephanie.
"Hi Mike!" The three girls said together.
"How did you know my name?" Mike teased as he unbuttoned his jacket.
"From the TV." Stephanie replied.
Chris smiled as she took Mike's jacket and hung it on a rack near the door.
"Well, you have the advantage of me." Mike replied, "What are your names?
Arlene, Marcia and Stephanie told him. Mike shook each of their hands. Arlene held Mike's hand just a little longer than necessary, since Mike was her fave Monkee.
"And I'm Chris." She said, shaking Mike's hand. "Pleased to meet you."
"I'm pleased to meet you ladies too." Mike said, then looked around, "Is your Dad here?"
"No." Arlene replied, "Our Mom and Dad went to LA this morning, but should've been back by now."
"Must be that storm blowin' out there." Mike said, shaking his head. "Its bad out. I would've gone back home, but I was already almost here when the storm hit."
"We're glad you made it here safe. Let's go into the den." Chris said to Mike.
The five of them walked into the den. Arlene had recently put some wood on the fire, so the room was quite warm.
"AH, warmth!" Mike smiled and sat down on the couch. Arlene sat down next to him.
"Would you like something to drink?" Chris asked Mike.
"Some coffee would be great." Mike replied.
"Coming up." Chris said, and then walked away.

Davy Jones peered over the steering wheel of his Mini-Cooper he had recently imported from England. He'd driven in the snow before, but this storm was pretty bad. Being a small car, the Mini-Cooper slid all over the road, but fortunately, Davy was safely able to drive his car into the Anderson's driveway.
"Another car's here!" Stephanie exclaimed, turning from the window.
"Good! I'll get the door." Chris said, getting up from her chair.
She walked into the foyer, and then turned to see her younger sisters
behind her.
"Gee. Four people to open a door." Chris remarked, rolling her eyes.
Arlene, Marcia and Stephanie just giggled. Chris opened the door to a blast of cold wind and a young Englishman.
"C'mon in, Davy." Chris said, shivering at the sudden cold.
"Thanks, luv." Davy replied, stepping inside. He began to stomp the snow off his shoes, while Chris quickly closed the door.
"Hi Davy!" Arlene, Marcia and Stephanie said.
"'Ello, 'Ello "Ello!" Davy said. "Who might you lovely ladies be?"
Arlene, Marcia and Stephanie told him. Chris took Davy's coat and hung on the rack next to Mike's.
"And I'm Chris, Davy." Chris finished.
"I'm glad to meet you ladies." Davy replied.
"We're glad you made it safely." Arlene said, "Mike's already here."
"Yeah, I saw that beat-up piece of rubbish he drives." Davy said with a wink.
"I heard that!" Mike called out from the next room.
"Oh hi Mike!" Davy called back, "Didn't know you were there!"
The four Anderson sisters laughed and escorted Davy into the den.
"Make yourself comfortable, Davy." Marcia said, "Would you like some tea?"
"Yes, I'd love a spot. Thank you." Davy said.
Marcia went off to the kitchen to make the tea. Stephanie went back to her place by the window to watch for the other Monkees. Davy sat down next to Mike.
"I haven't seen a storm like that in a long time." Davy remarked.
"Yeah, the weatherman said we might get a little snow, but not this much." Chris replied.
"But then its supposed to get warm again in a few days." Arlene said, "See any more cars, Steph?"
"No, not yet..." Stephanie said, and then stopped. "Wait, here comes another one!"

Peter Tork repeated the mantra his guru had given him over and over again. It helped keep his mind off the treacherous road he was driving. Keeping calm and driving slow, he finally made his way to his destination. Peter hoped this meeting was worth the effort.
Ironically, the more stuff he owned, the less interested he was in wealth, but he still was interested in balance, in fairness. The Monkees hadn't been getting nearly what they deserved despite the millions of records they had sold, and this Mr. Anderson promised to correct that problem. Well, he'll see. Breathing a sigh of relief, Peter pulled his car next to Davy's in the driveway.

Chris, Arlene and Stephanie walked over to the door once again. Marcia heard them and joined her sisters.
"I thought you were making Davy tea?" Chris asked.
"I'm waiting for the water to boil." Marcia replied.
Chris opened the door and Peter walked in.
"Hello everyone!" Peter said, "Wow, what a storm!"
"Hi Peter!" All four girls replied.
"Hi Peter!" Mike and Davy called from the next room.
"Hi Davy, Hi Mike!" Peter called back good-naturedly.
This time Arlene took Peter's coat and hung it next to the other two coats by the door.
"And what do I call you ladies?" Peter asked.
"Anything you want." Marcia said.
Chris put her hand to her forehead while everyone laughed. Finally, Chris introduced her younger sisters and led Peter into the den.
Suddenly the teakettle started to whistle and Marcia ran back into the kitchen. Peter sat down in a chair next to the fireplace, while Stephanie took up her post by the window.
"Would you like something to drink, Peter?" Chris asked.
"No, I'm fine, thank you." Peter replied, "Where's your Dad?"
"He and my Mom are delayed by the storm." Chris said. "They had gone down into LA to visit someone, and should've been here by now." She gave a worried glance at the clock on the wall.
"Don't worry, Chris," Mike said, "They'll be OK."
"I hope Micky's OK too." Steph said quietly, looking intently out the window. "It's really snowing now."
Marcia came into the den carrying a tray of cookies and a cup of tea for Davy. "More coffee, Mike?" She asked.
"No, I'm fine thank you." Mike said picking up a cookie, "Um, chocolate chip, my favorite."

Micky Dolenz was having a very hard time on the snow-covered streets. Living in warm, sunny LA his whole life, he had little experience driving in the snow. His knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel, he slowly made his way up and down the mountainous roads. Several times, he thought he'd go over a cliff, but he managed to get control of his car just in time. Unfortunately, about a mile or so from his destination, his luck ran out. Hitting a patch of ice, Micky's car slid off the road and into a ditch. Micky floored
the gas petal, but was unable to budge the car. With the snow coming down harder, Micky realized he had to go on foot or risk being buried in the snow.
"Great, just great!" Micky growled, slamming the palm of his hand into the steering wheel. He opened his car door and managed to pull himself out from the tilted car. Micky pulled himself up onto the roadway and quickly zipped his jacket. Not expecting the sudden snowstorm, Micky hadn't brought a heavy coat or gloves or a hat. Shoving his hands in his pockets and keeping his head down, Micky began to walk to the Anderson's house, hoping he wasn't too far away.

Keeping an eagle eye on the road, Stephanie saw a lone figure slowly walking towards the house. The road in front of the Anderson's house was flat and straight, with no neighbors nearby, so it was easy for anyone at the window to spot something from far away. Stephanie watched it for a moment, then as the figure came closer, saw that it was Micky.
"It's Micky!" She exclaimed.
"Calm down, Steph." Chris replied, "He'll be here soon."
"But he's walking!" Stephanie shouted.
"What?!" Chris and Arlene said together.
They joined Stephanie at the window and saw Micky struggling through the snow. Marcia, Mike, Peter and Davy joined them.
"Yeah, that's Micky, alright." Peter said, "What happened to his car?"
"Must've slid off the road." Davy replied. "Easy enough to do in this weather."
"He better be careful walking too." Marcia said nervously, "Right where's he's at now, there's a steep gully with a stream at the bottom of it. If he slips he could go into that gully and...."
Just as Marcia said that, Micky slipped and disappeared off the side of the road.
"MICKY!!" The seven people yelled at once.

"Oh no!" Arlene cried.
"We gotta go after 'im." Davy said.
Stephanie was already running to get her coat. Her three sisters followed suit. Mike, Davy and Peter were putting on their coats near
the front door when the four girls joined them, pulling on and zipping up their coats.
"Stephanie, you should stay here." Chris said as the girls ran back into the foyer, "Its too bad out. I don't want you falling and getting hurt."
"I'm going to rescue Micky!" Stephanie stated with as much conviction as a seven-year-old could muster.
Despite the serious situation, everyone had to smile at that.
"Well, we'll come along in case you need help." Peter said.
"I found a few extra gloves and scarves." Chris said to the three Monkees. "You'll need them."
Since nobody had expected all the snow, everybody had only light jackets to wear. Still, they bundled up as best they could and headed out the door.

Micky tried for the hundredth time to climb up the steep slope he had slid down only a few minutes before. And for the hundredth time, he failed to get a hand or foothold and slid back down to the bottom of the ravine. If he weren’t so worried about freezing to death, he would've been cursing the bad luck he'd been having so far. Fortunately, Micky didn't hurt himself when he first landed in the semi-frozen stream, but his limbs were getting stiff from the cold air. He had tried to find another way back up onto the road, but the steep side seemed to extend for a long way in either direction. Plus all the snow and ice made it hard to walk much further from where he fell. Micky tried once again to climb up, only to slide back down.
In desperation, he called out, hoping maybe a passing car might hear him.
"HELP!” Micky shouted, "Somebody help!"
Just then, the head of a small girl poked over the edge of the road.
"Don't worry, Micky!" The girl called down, "We'll save you!"
"We who?" Micky asked.
Mike's head joined the girl's. "We the Monkees and the Anderson girls!" He said, "That's we who!"
Micky laughed with relief. "Glad to see you Mike. How you gonna get me up there?"
"We're gonna form a human chain and pull you up." Peter replied, poking his head over the edge.
Mike stood as close as he dared to the edge of the road. Chris, Arlene, Marcia and Stephanie put their arms around him to steady him. Being the tallest and the strongest, he would be the anchor.
Next, Peter took Mike's hand and slowly let himself down the slope until his and Mike's arms were extended. Davy, being lighter, let himself down the slope, holding onto Peter's jacket. He then took Peter's other hand and continued down the slope until his and Peter's arms were extended. With his free hand, Davy reached down to Micky.
"Grab on, mate." Davy ordered.
Micky reached up, but couldn't grab Davy's hand. He dug his feet into the slope, but still couldn't push himself high enough to grab his friend's hand.
Stephanie saw what was happening. Without a word, she let go of Mike, and started to climb down the slope, hanging on to Peter.
"Steph, please be careful!" Chris said. She didn’t' want her youngest sister to go down there, but realized Stephanie was the lightest of everyone. She tightened her grip on Mike to make up for Stephanie's absence.
Stephanie slowly climbed down the slope, hanging on to Peter, then Davy. She took Davy's hand and let herself go down further. Micky was finally able to reach her hand and he quickly pulled himself up to Davy. He grabbed Davy's arm.
Gently taking Stephanie's arm, he pulled her past him up the slope until she got a grip onto Peter's jacket. Stephanie continued to pull herself up the slope until she was safely back up onto the road. Only when she was safe, did Micky start to pull himself up the Monkee chain and onto the road. Davy pulled himself up holding onto Peter, then Peter grabbed Mike's shirt and got himself back to the roadway too.
Everybody let out a collective sigh of relief. Micky smiled at his rescuers.
"Thanks everybody. I thought I was a goner." Micky said, teeth chattering.
"Lets get you inside." Chris said, "Can you walk?"
"Yeah, but I...I'm so cold..." Micky replied.
Peter and Mike put their arms around Micky and began to walk him back to the Anderson's house. Peter took his scarf off and put it around Micky's neck. The Anderson girls and Davy followed behind.

As the eight of them walked back to the house, Chris looked over at Marcia and Stephanie.
"Why don't you two run ahead and put more wood on the fire and some hot water on for cocoa?"
"Okay!" Marcia and Stephanie said. They quickly distanced themselves from the others and were soon back in the house.
Stephanie put the kettle on while Marcia put more wood on the fire. She then gathered up blankets and set them in front of the fire to get them warm. Marcia met her little sister at the front door. As soon as they saw the others come onto the porch, they opened the door and let everyone in. There was a flurry of activity as the Monkees and Chris and Arlene took off their jackets and pulled off their shoes. Mike and Peter helped Micky off with his jacket. His teeth were still chattering. Chris knelt in front of Micky.
"Could you two hold him steady while I take his boots off, please?" She asked Mike and Peter.
"No, I can..." Micky began.
"No, its ok, Micky. I want you to sit by the fire." Chris put in as she pulled off his ankle boots while Mike and Peter held him up.
"Yes, Ma'am." Micky replied half-seriously.
Meanwhile Stephanie went back to the kitchen to check on the water. Marcia took one of the blankets she had put by the fire and spread it out on the floor in front of the fire.
"All ready!" Marcia said.
"All ready for what?" Micky asked as he was led to the fireplace.
Chris helped him sit down on the blanket. Immediately he felt the warmth of the blanket go through him.
"Ahhh!" Micky smiled.
But then Marcia put another hot blanket around his shoulders from the back and Arlene put another hot blanket around his shoulders from the front. Almost at the same time, Chris took another hot blanket and wrapped it around Micky's legs and feet. Too much heat at once! He tried to push the blankets away.
"Ah No! Please I don't...."
But thinking Micky was disoriented or frightened from his recent ordeal, Arlene and Marcia got on either side of him and held him close.
"Shh, shhh. Its ok, Micky." Arlene soothed, "You're safe, you're among friends." She gently ran a finger down his cheek.
"You're supposed to be here." Marcia said, hugging Micky. "You're supposed to meet with our Dad Gerry Anderson today."
But Micky was thinking of the sudden heat wave on his body. "I'm burning up!" He said. "I'm dyin'."
Mike, Peter and Davy, sitting next to each other on the couch nearby, giggled at Micky's 'torture'.
"Not likely." Chris said smiling, kneeling at his feet. She gently took his stocking feet in her hands.
"Wiggle your toes. Can you feel them?" She asked.
"Yeah." Micky replied, wiggling his toes. "I can also feel you tickling my feet too." He giggled and pulled his feet away.
"Hmmm. Ticklish." Chris said with a smile. "I'll have to remember that." She covered Micky's feet up.
"Chris is gonna be a nurse in a year, Micky." Arlene said, "She's just checking you for frostbite."
Chris reached under the blankets, took Micky's hands and looked at them. They were a little red, but it didn't look like frostbite had set in. If Micky had been out a little longer, though....
"Your hands look fine." Chris said, "They just need rubbed a little to get the color back in them."
Arlene and Marcia took that as their cue to take each of Micky's hands and rubbed them gently.
The fire in front of Micky was roaring now with all the wood Arlene had put on. Micky began to sweat.
"So, you'll be a nurse in a year?" Micky asked.
"That's right." Chris replied, "I'm working at General Hospital. By the way, I don't think we'd been properly introduced. I'm Chris Anderson, to your right is Arlene, and at your left is Marcia. The littlest Anderson is Stephanie."
"Oh, I'm glad." Micky said dramatically, "I thought I had been abducted by crazed fans that were trying to burn and tickle me."
Everybody laughed at that one. Chris got to her feet.
"I'll go check on the hot water." She said, and then walked out of the den.
Arlene and Marcia put one arm around Micky's shoulders and held Micky's hands. Stephanie now came in from the kitchen and saw her sisters keeping Micky warm. Not wanting to be left out, Stephanie sat down behind Micky and leaned against his back.
"You can lean back against me, Micky." Stephanie said.
"Good idea, Steph." Marcia said. "You can keep his back warm."
Stephanie leaned harder into Micky's back and began picking pieces of ice out of his curly hair.
"You're going to be ok, Micky." She said quietly.
Mike, Peter and Davy sat on the couch silently laughing had Micky's ordeal. They would tease him about this for weeks afterwards!
Micky felt a cough coming on. But since he was wrapped up and the girls were holding his hands, he coughed into his shirt. This of course brought pats on the back from the girls.
"I hope you don't catch a cold from this Micky." Arlene said seriously.
"Maybe we should've put him in bed." Stephanie said.
Micky swallowed at the thought of lying in bed while these three junior Florence Nightingales swaddled and buried him in blankets. He was growing more and more uncomfortable. The heat from the roaring fire, plus the blankets, plus the three girls, were now making him too hot. Instead of telling the girls to move away and possibly hurt their feelings, (he knew they meant well), Micky decided to make a joke and hoped the girls got the point.
"You know, I feel like a TV dinner." Micky said.
"How so?" Arlene asked.
"Well, first I was frozen, now I'm all heated up!"
The three girls laughed at this.
"You're funny Micky!" Stephanie exclaimed, kissing the back of his neck. Arlene and Marcia kissed his cheeks.
"Let's take the front blanket off him." Marcia said.
Marcia and Arlene took the blanket away from Micky and put it aside.
Unfortunately for Micky, his body decided to give an involuntary shiver.
"Oh, he's still shivering!" Arlene exclaimed. "Quick, put the blanket back on him!"
The blanket was quickly wrapped around Micky again and the three girls hugged him tight.
"You poor thing." Stephanie said.
Micky wanted to cry. But finally salvation came when Chris brought in a tray with three mugs of hot cocoa and a bowl of soup. She stopped in the doorway and looked at the scene before her.
"What are you three doing to him?" She demanded.
"Micky's still shivering." Marcia replied, "We're keeping him warm."
Exhaling slowly, Chris walked over to the couch and presented the tray to the other three Monkees.
"I have some hot cocoa for you guys and a hot bowl of soup for Micky."
"Thanks, Chris." Peter said, as he and Mike and Davy took their mugs. Chris walked over to Micky and her sisters.
"I have some hot soup for you Micky." Chris said.
"I'll feed him!" Arlene, Marcia and Stephanie said together.
Chris rolled her eyes. "Uh, unless his hands fell off since I've been away, Micky can feed himself. Please get that top blanket off him."
Arlene and Marcia obeyed. Chris put the tray on Micky's lap.
"Thank you." Micky said in a way to let her know he was thanking her for more than just the soup.
"C'mon, girls," Chris said, "Lets get some cocoa for ourselves."
"You gonna be ok, Micky?" Stephanie asked.
"I'll be fine, darlin'...and thanks for keeping me warm girls." Micky replied.
"You're welcome, Micky." Arlene said happily.
"We'll watch him, luv." Davy said, smiling broadly.
As soon as the girls left the room, Davy walked over and patted Micky on the shoulder.
"Are you ok, Micky? Are you ok?" Davy teased.
"Shut up, Jones." Micky said only partly in jest.
"Micky's got a girlfriend; Micky's got a girlfriend..." Peter started to sing.
"What're you gonna tell Samantha?" Mike asked laughing, referring to Micky's steady girlfriend.
Micky just shook his head and drank his soup.

In the kitchen, Chris was talking to her sisters.
"What did I tell you girls about hanging on to them?" She asked.
"We were just keeping poor Micky warm." Arlene replied.
"Well, Micky's going to be fine, so please leave him alone now." Chris ordered.
"Ok." Chris's sisters replied. They got their cocoa and went back into the den and sat in the various chairs arranged around the room.
Micky finished his soup and Arlene took his bowl back to the kitchen.
"Can I get up now, nurse?" Micky asked.
"Sure, if you feel up to it." Chris replied.
Micky unwrapped the blankets from around his legs and back and slowly got up. He walked over to the couch with the other three Monkees and sat down. Stephanie went back over to the window to watch for her parents.
"So, now what?" Micky asked.
"So now you tell us how you came to be walking instead of driving here." Chris replied, raising her eyebrows.
Micky explained how his car had ended up in the ditch, then how he had fallen and fell off the side of the road. Everybody shook their heads at Micky's story. Micky was lucky to be alive. Chris said so aloud.
"Lucky for you, Steph saw you walking towards our house." She said, "And told us you were walking. We all saw you fall off the side of the road."
Stephanie had a huge smile on her face. She had saved her idol Micky Dolenz! Still, she kept vigil by the window to watch for her parents.
While waiting for Gerry Anderson and his wife, his daughters and the Monkees talked about their lives. As was mentioned before, Chris had one more year of nursing school to go before she got her stripes. Arlene was a freshman in high school and loved to play the flute, Marcia was in fifth grade and love to sew, and Stephanie was in first grade.
The Monkees told the girls about the kind of hectic life they led. They had to be at the TV studio early in the morning, work until evening, then go to the recording studio to work on an album. When they weren't doing that, they went on tour or made public appearances
around town to promote their records. The four girls were startled by what the Monkees told them. They realized that being famous wasn't really all the glitz it was made out to be.
"Wow, do you guys get a chance to breath?" Marcia asked.
"Only if its been scheduled at least two weeks in advance." Davy replied seriously.
The girls just shook their heads.
"How did you guys find the time to come here?" Chris asked.
"Well, there's a break in filming right now." Micky replied, "And we can't, or should I say won't, start a new album until things have been settled with your Dad's record company."
"But we have a tour coming up in a few months." Mike added.
"So our dad is going to make things ok with you four?" Marcia asked.
"I hope so." Mike put in, a little angrily, "Your Dad's company is making a lot of money off of us, but not giving us any freedom to do our songs. Nor are they giving us enough money."
"Mike, cool it man." Peter whispered.
"Well if you want to be presented as something you're not, go ahead Peter." Mike retorted, "But I was promised input on our albums, but I'm not allowed any."
"What do you mean, ‘you don't have input'?" Marcia asked slowly. "That's you on your albums."
Mike looked at the floor as he realized his goof. It was supposed to be a secret that the Monkees really didn't play on their first two albums. The other three Monkees glared at him.
"Well Mike?" Davy said angrily, "Aren't you going to answer the young lady?"

Mike looked up and at Marcia. “The first two albums were pretty much recorded before we started working on the T.V. show so that we’d have music to play.” Mike told her. “We came into the studio and simply sang the vocals, though I did play a little guitar on one track.”

He took a breath. “The second album was done about the same way. We didn’t like it, especially Peter and myself, because we’re musicians too and we were promised we could play some of our own songs.”

The Anderson girls looked surprised, but said nothing.

“The record execs didn’t credit the other musicians.” Micky said, taking up the story. “I guess they wanted people to think it was us on those records. Now, we’re not going to record anything until we get some of our own songs recorded, and make sure the studio musicians get credited too.”

“Wow. We didn’t know.” Chris finally said. “We just assumed it was you four on the album.”

Her sisters nodded in agreement.

“Does it matter to you ladies?” Davy asked.

“No, not at all.” Arlene said instantly.

“It’s not just the music we love, it’s the show too.” Marcia told him.

“That’s you on the show, right Micky?” Stephanie asked him, her brown eyes wide.

“No, that’s all stand-ins.” Micky replied, a small grin spreading on his face, “We’re just used for close-ups!”

Stephanie’s mouth dropped open.

“Micky!” Peter yelled at him. “Tell her the truth!”

“Yes, that’s really ‘us’ on the show, honey. We just didn’t play very much on the first two albums, that’s all.”

“But hopefully, your dad will change that for us.” Mike told her.

Arlene picked up the now empty mugs and took them into the kitchen. The storm was raging as hard as ever. Suddenly, the phone rang.

Chris walked over to an end table next to one of the couches and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” Chris asked. “Oh, hi Dad! Are you and Mom ok? Yeah, we’re fine, and all the Monkees made it safe up here, but it’s really snowing bad.”

She frowned slightly as she listened to what her Dad was saying.

“Yeah, I guess it is for the best. We don’t want you two to risk your lives coming up here. Sure, I’ll tell them. Ok, goodbye, love you too.”

Chris replaced the receiver on the phone and turned to the others in the room. Arlene came back into the room just as Chris had hung up.

“Who was that?” She asked.

“It was Dad.” Chris replied, “He called us from our other house to let us know that he and Mom are safe, but had to turn back because of the bad weather up here.” Chris looked at the Monkees. “He says he’s very sorry he couldn’t make it back and that you wasted your time coming here.”

The Monkees looked at each other. They all looked disappointed, especially Mike. He got to his feet.

“Well, ladies, it has been nice meeting all of you, but I guess I’ll be heading back home.”

“You can’t go out in this weather!” Arlene exclaimed. “You could end up in a ditch like Micky!”

“My Dad did say that the four of you could spend the night until the weather clears.” Chris told him.

“He did?!” Stephanie and Marcia said together.

“Thanks, Chris, but my wife Phyllis will be worried about me.” Mike said gently, starting to walk to the front door.

The other Monkees got up as well, but stayed where they were.

“Maybe you should think this over, Mike.” Peter said. “It’s probably worse out there than it was before.”

“We have extra bedrooms…” Arlene told Mike hopefully.

“No, I’ll be alright.” Mike told her and began to put on his coat. He looked over at Micky. “Want me to give you a lift to your house?”

Micky just shook his head. He really didn’t want to go back out in that snow and cold after what had just happened to him. “I’ll stay here, and call a tow-truck for my car.”

“Suit yourself.” Mike shrugged as he opened the front door. “Thank you ladies once again for your hospitality….whoa!” Mike exclaimed as the wind pushed the door out of his hand and him across the foyer, followed by about half the snow in the Sierra Nevada.

The other Monkees got up and helped the Anderson girls push the door closed. Mike simply sat on the floor and looked up at everyone.

“Y’know…I think I will accept your Dad’s kind invitation, Chris.” Mike said dryly.

“Same for us too, luv.” Davy said as he and Peter helped Mike stand up.

“Will you stay too, Micky?” Stephanie asked.

“Seeing that my car’s in a ditch right now, I would say yes.” Micky sighed.

Chris led the way up the stairs to the main living room and kitchen. The Andersons’ house was three stories tall, with an office and library. Everybody now sat down in the living room on the second floor.

“The problem is we only have one extra bedroom.” Chris told everyone. “We’ll have to decide on sleeping arrangements.”

“Mike can have my bedroom.” Arlene said, “I can room with Marcia.”

“There’s no room!” Marcia told her, indignantly.

“Yes, there is! You have a double bed!” Arlene replied.

“You move around too much!” Marcia said.

“How would you know?” Arlene asked.

“Wait girls….” Chris said

“Micky can sleep in my bedroom!” Stephanie pronounced.

“Where would you sleep?” Micky asked her.

“Ahhh…” Stephanie said, and then went silent.

“Your bed is too small for him, Steph.” Marcia said.

“Can’t two people share a bed in that extra room?” Davy asked. “Maybe two of us…” Davy pointed to the other Monkees, “Can sleep in one bedroom.”

“I don’t know.” Chris told him. “Let’s go see.”

Everybody followed her over to the spare bedroom. Inside there was a double bed, enough for two people.

“Ok, then!” Chris smiled. “We can do it this way. Arlene and I can have this room, while two of you guys have our rooms.”

“No, we can’t do that to you ladies.” Davy said, “I’ll sleep in here.”

“Me too.” Micky said quickly.

“That still leaves Mike and Peter.” Arlene said.

“Excuse me, but what’s up there?” Peter standing in the hallway asked. He pointed his thumb behind him to a set of stairs.

“Oh that!” Chris exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of it before? That leads to our sun room.”

“A sun room?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, c’mon, I’ll show you.” Chris said.

She led the way up another flight of steps to a short hallway. At the end of the hallway, was a room. Entering the near-empty room, everyone could see that all four walls had large windows in which you could see the surrounding mountains.

“Wow, what a view.” Davy said in awe.

Even though it was still snowing, it was still easy to see the mountains behind the house. In fact, the Anderson’s back yard was flat for a long ways, and then the foothills of the mountains began.

“It would be better if there was some sun.” Marcia said, but you can really see for miles and miles.”

“Look, there’s a big couch here.” Stephanie said as she sat down upon it.

“It’s really a daybed, sis.” Chris said, “Get up for a second.”

Stephanie did so, and Chris pulled a switch and the back of the couch came down and now it was a bed. All it needed was pillows and blankets.

“Mike and Peter, would you like to sleep here?” Chris asked. “If not, that’s ok, too.”

“No, we’ll be alright here.” Peter told her.

“Before we became famous, I slept on things a lot less comfortable.” Mike said. “Thank you.”

With sleeping arrangements settled, everyone went back down into the living room.

Once back in the living room, Chris and Arlene excused themselves and went into the kitchen to see what they could make for supper. The house hadn’t been used in a while, so there wasn’t very much in the fridge or shelves. After some searching around, the girls realized the only thing they could really make was spaghetti.

“I hope they like spaghetti.” Arlene told her older sister as she put water in a large pot.

“Micky’s Italian, so I guess he will at least.” Chris told her.

Soon, the aroma of spaghetti cooking wafted through the house. Micky poked his head into the kitchen.

“Spaghetti?” He asked with a smile.

“Yeah, that’s all we have.” Chris replied.

“Groovy.” Micky said. He went back into the living room.

“There’s spaghetti cookin’ in the kitchen.” Micky told the others.

“That’s good.” Mike replied, but Davy and Peter didn’t seem to happy. Davy had never cared for pasta dishes and Peter was the same way. He preferred vegetables and fish. Still, neither of them said anything, since nobody had expected them to stay this long.

Chris’s younger sisters helped set the table for eight and soon the spaghetti was ready. Sitting down it was a Monkee between each of the girls. Soon, everyone began to eat, with Micky digging into the food. He really went to town on the food, and it wasn’t long before even Stephanie, who was sitting next to him, wondered where he had learned to eat. Davy, who had yelled at Micky once before about his table manners, knew this was going to happen and had arranged to sit at the opposite end of the table. After a while, though, Micky finally noticed everybody was looking at him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sauce on his chin.

After a long pause, Arlene said “You have sauce on your chin.”

“Oh, thank you.” Micky replied, grabbing a napkin and wiping his chin. He then went back to devouring the spaghetti.

Supper was over and everybody pitched in to help clean up. The girls cleaned the dishes and the Monkees cleared the table and put the dishes away. Just as the last dish was being dried, the lights went out.

“Oh, this is just great.” Chris growled. “Our furnace is run by electricity.”

“We have the fireplace and enough wood.” Arlene told her.

“Not enough in here to last the night.” Chris replied, “There’s more in the shed, I think.”

“Somebody should go get more before it gets too dark out.” Marcia said.

“I’m somebody.” Davy shrugged, “I’ll go.”

“I’ll show you where the shed is.” Marcia replied.

Chris looked out the kitchen window. It seems that the snow was finally slowing down, but it was still windy. She turned back to Davy and Marcia.

“Ok, go ahead, but be careful. That snow looks deep.”

“We’ll be careful, mum.” Davy smiled.

Davy and Marcia went back downstairs into the foyer and put on their coats and boots. Marcia grabbed a flashlight and led him over to the back door and the two of them quickly exited the house. The shed was an old aluminum structure used mostly to hold firewood and lawn tools. Holding hands, the two of them made their way over to the shed. However, they found that the door had been frozen shut. Davy took out his cigarette lighter, lit it and held it near the latch in order to try to thaw it. Marcia was a little shocked when she realized Davy smoked; on TV the Monkees were clean-cut boys. She also had thought the Monkees had really played on their albums, but that was false too. Marcia brushed her brown wind-blown hair from her eyes. Despite what she had learned today, she found that she still loved the Monkees, regardless of the image they had taken pains to portray.

Marcia started to shiver in the blowing wind. She stepped closer to Davy.

“Any luck yet, Davy?” She said.

“Almost, luv….” Davy said. He flicked off the lighter’s flame and tried the door handle once again. This time it turned, and the two of them quickly pulled the door open and stepped inside the shed. They stayed there for several seconds, glad to be at least a little protected from the elements.

Marcia began to shiver again, despite being protected from the wind. Davy saw that and wrapped his arms around her. Marcia returned the hug.

“You’re nice and warm, Davy.” Marcia said, burying her face in his jacket.

“This weather is a walk in the park where I’m from.” Davy replied. He kissed the top of her head and gave her a squeeze. “You ok, now?”

Marcia smiled and kissed his cheek. “I’m fine now, Davy.” She said, “Thank you.”

Davy smiled and released her and the two gathered up two armfuls of wood. They walked out of the shed and Davy kicked the door closed. Walking slowly, they went back to the house.

When Marcia and Davy reached the back door, Marcia kicked it to have somebody let them in. It turned out that Peter, Mike and Micky were standing near the door waiting for them to return.

“Who is it?” Peter called out, a smile on his face.

“Just open the door, Peter.” Mike said angrily, “It’s cold out there for them.”

Peter glared at Mike for a second, then opened the door for Marcia and Davy. The two of them walked in carrying their load of wood. Davy gave Peter an angry glance.

“Who is it, indeed.” He growled quietly as he walked past.

Peter closed the door and looked at Mike.

“It was just a joke, Mike.” Peter told him.

“Not a very good one.” Mike replied.

“Yeah, you’re the judge of humor.” Peter retorted.

“Stow it you two.” Micky whispered, “We’re guests here.”

Fortunately, none of the Anderson girls heard this exchange. Otherwise, they would’ve become aware of another well-hidden fact: That Mike and Peter never really got along. Not only were their tastes in music different (Mike liked country and Peter liked folk music), but they had opposite personalities as well. (Peter was more-laid back, while Mike was the impatient type).

The three Monkees walked back into the den where Marcia and Davy were placing the wood in a hamper next to the fireplace. It was already beginning to get cold in the house.

“Excuse me ladies, but do you think I can make a phone call to my wife and tell her I won’t be home tonight?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, I should call Samantha.” Micky said.

“Of course!” Chris replied. “I should’ve asked you guys a long time ago.”

All four Monkees followed Chris over to the phone near the kitchen and left them alone for privacy. She then sat down with her sisters in front of the fire. A few minutes later, they came back and told her that they had placed calls to their loved ones.

“Thanks, Chris, we appreciate it.” Davy said as the Monkees joined the girls in front of the fire. He sat next to Marcia, Micky sat next to Stephanie, Mike sat next to Arlene and Peter plopped down next to Chris.

They wrapped blankets around themselves and simply sat looking at the fire for a long time. Soon enough, the fireplace was the only light in the room.

“Isn’t this cozy, Micky?” Stephanie asked.

“Yeah it is.” Micky smiled.

Peter looked at Chris and admired how the fire shown on her face and highlighted the soft brown hair she and her sisters had. He cleared his throat.

“Chris?”

“Yeah, Peter?”

“What is Chris short for?”

“It’s short for Christine.” Chris replied. “It was my grandmother’s name.”

“It’s very pretty.”

“Thank you.” Chris smiled. She then noticed that Peter was looking at the others. They were all either dozing off or having private chats with each other. Chris looked back at Peter, understanding why he was watching the others.

“And so are you.” Peter whispered in her ear.

Chris and Peter leaned towards each other for a kiss….

Just then the lights decided to come back on. Chris and Peter pulled away before anybody saw them.

“Oh hurray, we have lights again.” Marcia said without much enthusiasm.

The now-lit den revealed the eight of them were sitting closer to each other than when they had first sat down. A little embarrassed, they pulled away from each other. A low rumble from the basement told them the furnace was now working again.

“Does everyone want to call it a night and go to sleep?” Chris asked her sisters and the famous rock group.

“Yeah, I guess so. Why not. Ok.” Were the various replies. Chris got up and closed up the fireplace and everyone got up and made their way upstairs.

Fortunately, the house had two bathrooms so there weren’t ‘too’ many problems getting ready for bed. Chris brought Mike and Peter a few extra blankets and pillows and put them on the daybed the two would be sharing. Finally, goodnights were exchanged and the eight of them went into their rooms to sleep.

Outside, the snow had finally stopped falling and the wind had stopped blowing. The cold front began to move off, pushed away by a warm front behind it. Slowly, while everyone slept, the temperatures began to rise and the snow started to melt….

Peter woke up to see that the sun was shining and the sky was clear. He got up, put on his shoes and shirt, then went over and looked through the back window of the sun room. Peter smiled at the magnificent view of the mountains in front of him. He saw an icicle dripping from an awning and realized the temperature must be above freezing. Turning back, he saw Mike getting out of bed. He put quickly on his shirt and shoes too.

Neither of them said good morning to each other. Mike looked out the back window and gave a low whistle.

“What a difference a day makes.”

“At least we agree on something.” Peter remarked.

Mike didn’t answer but turned and walked out of the room. Peter followed him. When they got down the steps, the met Micky coming out of the bathroom.

“Mornin’ Mick.” Mike and Peter said.

“Morning.” Micky yawned. “The girls left out some razors and shaving cream for us to use.” He said, rubbing his cheeks. “And mouthwash.”

“That was nice of them.” Peter replied. “Where’s Dave?”

“He was up with the sun.” Micky answered, “I hope he left us something to eat.”

The smell of oatmeal wafted up to them. “Smells like it.” Peter said.

Mike went into the bathroom Micky just left and closed the door. Peter went down the hall and into the second bathroom. Micky ran a comb through his curly hair and went down into the kitchen. He almost laughed out loud when he saw Davy wearing an apron and serving the Anderson girls who were sitting at the table. Davy looked up when Micky came in.

“Morning, Mick.” Davy said as he spooned oatmeal onto Arlene’s plate. “The menu this morning is oatmeal or toast.”

“Good morning. I’ll have toast my good man.” Micky sniffed. “Good morning to you ladies.”

“And good morning to you, Micky.” Chris smiled. Her sisters all said good morning to Micky as well. “Like Davy said, we only have oatmeal or toast to eat.”

“That’s fine with me.” Micky replied. “It looks like the weather is getting warmer out and we’ll be able to leave soon.”

The girls, especially Stephanie, became crestfallen at the news.

“Do you have to?” Stephanie said sadly. “You guys didn’t meet our dad yet.”

“I know, honey, but we have other obligations this afternoon.” Micky replied. “We’ll see your dad another day.”

Peter and then Mike came into the kitchen.

“Morning everyone.” Peter said.

“Morning, Peter.” The girls replied.

“Good morning, ladies.” Mike said.

“Good morning, Mike.” The Anderson girls replied.

“I hope you two like oatmeal or toast.” Davy told his two band mates.

Mike smiled. “Nice apron, Davy.”

“It’s you.” Peter added.

“Thanks.” Davy said sourly. “For that you both get oatmeal.”

The Anderson girls giggled as Davy plopped a few spoonfuls of oatmeal on each of their plates. Mike and Peter shrugged and ate up.

Soon breakfast was over and once again the Monkees insisted on doing the dishes. Once they were done, the quartet joined the girls in the living room.

“Well, girls.” Davy said when the Monkees had sat down. “We want to thank you very, very much for your hospitality but we have to be going.”

“It’s been very nice having you guys here, but we understand you have other things to do.” Chris said sadly.

Stephanie stood up, a big smug smile on her face. “Micky can’t leave!”

“Why can’t I?’ Micky asked.

“Your car is still in the ditch!” She smiled. “So you’re stuck here!”

Micky sat back on the couch when he realized Stephanie was right. He had forgotten about his car, now probably buried under several feet of snow.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mick.” Davy smiled, “We’ll write often to tell you how the show is going.”

“You can go in my car, Micky.” Mike said. “I’ll drive you over to where your car is and we can help you push it out of the ditch.”

“How?” Arlene said with a smile that matched her younger sister’s. “All of your cars in the driveway are buried in the snow.”

“So you four might be here a while longer.” Marcia finished.

Peter looked out of the living room window, which looked out over the driveway. Sure enough, the three cars were surrounded by several inches of snow.

Mike looked outside too. After a few seconds, he turned back to the Anderson sisters and gave them a knowing smile.

“So, you girls think you have us trapped here, huh?”

The four sisters just smiled back at him.

“Well, since your driveway is flat, I think my big Buick can make it out of here.” He said, starting to walk towards the door, “C’mon fellows, I’ll drive us over to Micky’s car and we can get it out of the ditch.”

“How did we get volunteered for this?” Peter muttered under his breath, but followed the other Monkees out of the room.

The Anderson girls followed them out. Arlene ran up to her room while her sisters helped the men get into their cold-weather gear.

“Please be careful.” Chris told them. “If you’re not back in an hour, we’re coming to look for you.”

“Thanks, Chris.” Micky replied.

Arlene came back down the stairs, holding something in her hand. She walked over to Mike.

“Um, Mike?” She asked.

“Yeah, Arlene?”

“Here.” Arlene said quietly, holding the object out to him. “It will help keep your head warm.”

In Arlene’s hand was a green wool knit hat, similar to the ones Mike wore on the TV show. Mike looked at the hat for a moment, then slowly took it from her and put it on his head. Despite his unwillingness to wear one when he wasn’t on the show or in concert, Mike realized he needed something for his head.

“I made it myself, with a little help from Marcia.” Arlene said with a shy smile, “I’ve been meaning to mail it to you, but….” She shrugged.

“Thank you, Arlene.” Mike smiled, giving a kiss on the forehead. “I appreciate it.”

The others smiled at the gesture. Finally the Monkees were ready and left the house to try and get Micky’s car. Like Mike said, his Buick was powerful, and after he brushed the melting snow off his car, he was able to back it out of the driveway and down the road again to get Micky’s car. The Anderson girls watched them leave from the door and then went back inside.

About a half-hour later, the girls heard engine noise. To their relief, they saw Mike’s car pull into the driveway, followed by Micky driving his car and parking it at the end of the driveway where the snow wasn’t too deep. The Monkees came back inside and were immediately pulled into the den and placed in front of the fire like Micky had been the night before.

“Not again.” Micky moaned, only half-kidding as a hot blanket was placed around his shoulders.

“Actually, girls, it’s not that bad out.” Peter said as he was wrapped up. “The weather is getting warmer.”

“Yeah, we didn’t have much trouble pushing Micky’s car out of the ditch since a lot of the snow was already gone.” Davy finished.

“That’s great!” Marcia replied. “Maybe Mom and Dad can make it up here now.”

“Yeah, and maybe we can get down the roads ourselves.” Davy asked.

“That’s not so great.” Arlene said with a frown.

“I told you three, they have to be going.” Chris said, then looked at the Monkees. “If you guys are warmed up enough, we can all go out and help you dig the rest of your cars out.”

“That’s very nice of you.” Mike replied.

“I’m going to get my boots on.” Chris said, “Marcia, show them where the utility room is.”

“Ok, Chris.” Marcia said reluctantly.

Chris went up to her room and put on her boots, then, seeing the den empty, went down to the utility room on the ground floor near the garage. What greeted her was not a happy sight. Her sisters were sitting on a bench on one side of the room, looking innocent, while the Monkees were sitting on the other side of the room, glaring at them.

“What’s the problem?” Chris asked.

“Your sisters insist there aren’t any snow shovels or any kind of snow gear of any kind in the house.” Mike said.

“Right, Chris?” Stephanie smiled brightly at her big sis. “We’re never up here when it snows so we never need those things.”

“They’ll just have to stay here for a while longer.” Marcia said.

Chris just walked over to where her sisters were sitting, picked Stephanie up and placed to the side. “Get up you two.” She said, in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

Marcia and Arlene got up off the bench. Chris lifted the lid of the bench and inside were several snow shovels.

“Oh, ‘those’ shovels!” Arlene said in mock surprise.

Chris let out a breath and looked sternly at her sisters.

“Listen you three. I know you don’t want the Monkees to leave; I don’t either if you must know, but they have families that will be worried about them. Understand? No more trying to make them stay. Got it?”

“Got it.” Marcia, Arlene and Stephanie said quietly, looking at the floor.

“Alright, then.” Chris said, then looked at the Monkees. “I’m sorry about this.”

“We’re sorry.” Arlene said.

The Monkees looked just a little upset at the three, but still said it was ok.

Chris pulled the shovels from the chest and started to hand them out to everyone.

As everyone left the utility room to go outside, Chris put a hand on Stephanie’s shoulder.

“Steph, I want you to stay inside and listen for the phone. Mom and Dad might call to see how we’re doing.”

“Oh, I wanna help!” The little girl complained.

“You are going to help.” Chris said to her, “We need to know if Mom and Dad call us. If nobody answers the phone, they might get worried. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No…” Stephanie said reluctantly.

“You’ve already been a big help,” Micky told her as he put his coat on. “You told the others that I fell down that ditch, if you hadn’t seen me fall, I’d be a frozen Monkee right now.”

Stephanie smiled a big smile. “Ok, I’ll stay upstairs by the phone.”

“Thank you, sis.” Arlene said.

When Stephanie went upstairs, the other seven went back outside and began to shovel the snow away from the other cars. It was hard work; the snow was deep and wet, but the weather wasn’t as cold as it was the day before. The snow covered mountains behind the house loomed large against the blue sky.

As everyone was working to clear the driveway, nobody noticed at first the low rumble in the distance. After a few seconds, Marcia looked up from her work and looked at the others.

“What’s that noise?” She asked.

Mike stopped shoveling and looked over at her.

“What noise?” He asked back.

“No, wait, I hear it too.” Micky said to them, “It sounds like thunder.”

Everyone else stopped what they were doing and looked around for the source of the noise. After several more seconds, the thundering noise grew louder…and it seemed to be coming from the mountain! Seven pairs of eyes looked behind the house to the mountains beyond. To their horror, they saw a huge sheet of snow coming down the nearest mountain…and heading straight for them!

“AVALANCHE!” Arlene screamed.

Unfortunately, Arlene was right. The fast-moving warm front that came in overnight quickly began to melt the snow on the mountains, and now it was coming right towards them in a rush!

“It’s coming towards our house!” Arlene yelled.

Indeed, the oncoming avalanche was wide enough to engulf not only the Anderson’s home, but other homes next to theirs as well.

Arlene began to run back toward the house, but the deep snow slowed her down.

“Stephanie!” Arlene yelled, “Get out of the house! It’s an avalanche!”

But it was doubtful Stephanie heard her as the avalanche noise grew to a roar. Nobody else moved to get away, as they were all thinking about the little Stephanie being in that house when the avalanche hit.

Arlene was half-way up the driveway when the avalanche slammed into the house. It held for a few seconds, then its second and third floor were ripped away by the force of the snow. The Monkees and the three Anderson sisters were pushed across the street and down a wooded slope. Frantically, they grabbed onto the tree trunks to stop themselves from being pushed further away. If the house hadn’t taken the brunt of the snow, they would’ve been buried and carried far away. After several long seconds, with the roar of the snow deafening them, the avalanche passed them and continued down the slope.

Peter was able to keep his head above the snow and was the first to start a head count. He quickly counted Mike and Chris, then Micky and Marcia popped their heads up from the snow. After several long seconds, Davy was able to push the snow away from his head as well. There was no sign of Arlene.

“Arlene?!” Peter yelled, “Can you hear me?!”

Everyone else began to call Arlene’s name and look around for her the best they could. They could hardly move with all the snow on them. Finally, Peter saw a hand waving in the snow and moved over there and quickly uncovered Arlene.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked.

“Anybody get the number of that bus?” She asked weakly.

“Oh, no NO!” Stephanie!” Chris screamed.

“We gotta find her!” Davy said.

As fast as they could, the seven people pulled themselves up the snowy slope and over to where the house once stood. They were all cold, bruised and shaken up by what just happened, but they forgot their injuries and concentrated on finding Stephanie.

The top two floors of the house were gone. Everyone prayed Stephanie was on the ground floor so they could find her. Pulling themselves over blocks of ice and rocks, they climbed past the cars once again half-buried in snow and over to the house.

“Stephanie! Stephanie!” Everyone began yelling as loud as they could. They climbed to where the ceiling of the den used to be. The front door was buried. The remains of the chimney stood dark against the snow.

“Oh, this is my fault!” Chris cried, “If she had come outside with us…”

“Don’t blame yourself.” Mike said, “Stephanie is still alive, she’s gotta be!”

Taking a different part of the house, everyone began to frantically dig through the snow, searching for some sign of the girl. Micky was digging by the chimney when he heard a faint cry coming through the chimney, which, miraculously, hadn’t been filled with snow.

“Wait, everyone!” Micky shouted, “I heard something! Stephanie?!” He yelled down the chimney.

“Help…” Was the faint answer.

“She’s alive!” Arlene shouted.

“We’re coming, darling!” Micky yelled back down the chimney, “We’ll save you!”

The seven people dug through the snow with their bare hands down through the snow near the chimney. When the reached the floor of the den, they found Stephanie lying under the coffee table which had been shoved by the avalanche next to the fireplace. The heavy coffee table protected the little girl from the worst of the snow and ice. Chris reached down and pulled her little sister from under the coffee table and carried her to the top of the snow.

Although the coffee table saved Stephanie’s life, she still was very cold and weak. Her lips were turning blue. She looked up at her big sister.

“I’m so cold…” She whispered.

“Hang on honey.” Chris said, holding her close, “We’ll get you warmed up.” She looked at the others. “She’s got hypothermia, we need to get her warm now!”

Without a word, Micky took Stephanie from Chris’ arms and began to run back down to the cars. The others followed him, guessing what he would do. Micky’s car was furthest down the driveway so it was less covered than the others. Holding Stephanie in one arm, he yanked open the driver’s side door, got in, pulled the keys out of his jacket pocket and started the car. Chris and the others also climbed into the car as Micky cranked up the heater. Chris got into the front seat and gently pulled Stephanie off his lap and laid her between them. Together, they began to rub her arms and legs to get the circulation going again. Between the heater and all the people jammed into the car, it soon became very warm inside, but nobody complained. After several tense minutes, some color began to come into Stephanie’s cheeks. She opened her eyes once again.

“How you doin’ sweetie?” Mike smiled down at her.

“I’m getting warm now.” She replied, her voice a little stronger.

Everybody breathed a sigh of relief. Chris pulled her sister into her arms. Stephanie smiled at everybody.

“Thank you all for saving me.” She said.

“That’s ok, we’ll just put it on your bill.” Micky smiled as Davy hit him across the back of his head. Everyone laughed at that, and so they decided to stay in Micky’s car until help arrived.

While everyone waited for the rescue crews, they checked themselves over for injuries. Fortunately, nobody was seriously injured but would be plenty sore for days. Stephanie told her rescuers that she had heard the rumble of the avalanche and was going to the front door to ask what was happening when the avalanche struck the house. The snow had pushed her and the coffee table against the fireplace, which saved her life. Everybody said a small prayer of thanks that all of them, especially Stephanie had survived the disaster.

Mike asked about the people living in the other homes.

“I know the people living next to us were away for the weekend.” Chris replied. “I think most of the homes in this area are rented by city folk to use when we want to ‘get away from it all’.” She just shook her head at the irony.

After a few hours, a California patrol truck slowly made its way toward the house. Everyone let out a cheer and Mike and Arlene got out of the cramped car to greet the patrolmen. Two troopers quickly came out of the truck to meet them.

“Is everyone alright?” One of them asked. “Anybody missing or need to go to the hospital?”

“Yes, no and no.” Mike said, “We were almost carried away, but we’re fine.”

Peter, Davy and Marcia got out of the car and joined them. The second officer looked at Peter and Davy for a second, then at Mike and his mouth dropped open.

“Hey, aren’t you guys…?”

“Yeah, we are but its more important to get these young ladies to safety.” Peter said.

“You’re right.” The first officer replied, “There could be more avalanches. I’m going to call for backup to get you ladies down the mountain and look for any survivors.”

“I’m Arlene Anderson.” Arlene told the troopers. “Can you call our parents to let them know we’re ok?”

“I’ll do that, hun.” The second officer said.

Just then, two figures were spotted by Marcia coming up the road.

“MOM! DAD!!” She yelled, and started to run after them. Arlene followed her.

“How did they get up here?” The first officer asked the second. “The road was supposed to be closed to traffic.”

“Don’t underestimate the zeal of parents looking for their children, officer.” Mike said, “I’ve got a little boy of my own.”

Mister and Mrs. Anderson tightly hugged Arlene and Marcia.

“Oh, thank God you two are safe!” Mrs. Anderson told her daughters.

“Chris and Stephanie are safe too, Mom.” Arlene said and she and Marcia quickly filled their parents in on what had been going on, from rescuing Micky from the ditch to finding Stephanie buried under the snow.

“But our house is gone…” Marcia said sadly.

“It doesn’t matter.” Their father told them, “As long as you girls and the Monkees are safe and sound.”

Slowly they climbed through the deep snow.

“Where’s your car, Dad?” Marcia asked him.

“We drove past the barriers and up as far as we could, then we walked.” Her Dad answered. “We weren’t going to wait for news about you girls.”

As they walked over to the patrol truck, Micky, Chris and Stephanie saw them coming and jumped out of the car as well. Chris carried Stephanie over to her parents and there was a joyful reunion of the Anderson family.

The first officer got out of the truck after radioing the station. He walked over to the Monkees.

“I’m glad to see everyone’s ok. I alerted the base and they’re sending up more trucks to transport everyone out of here.”

“That’s good.” Davy said.

The Anderson family, now back together again, walked over to the pop group. Gerry Anderson came over and shook their hands.

“Thank you gentlemen.” He said, voice breaking up, “Thank you for all you’ve done. For helping save Stephanie.”

His wife Ginny thanked them all as well. She had tears in her eyes as she gave them all hugs and kisses. “Thank you so much.” Was all she could manage.

“You’re welcome.” They told them.

“No good deed goes unpunished.” Gerry told them. “I’ll make sure you guys get the best record deal ever!”

The Monkees were glad to here that, but somehow it didn’t seem as important to them anymore. They had done good for someone, and that was a reward in itself. The Anderson girls gave all the Monkees hugs and kisses as well.

Soon, rescue trucks came up the snow and debris clogged road and everybody was taken back to the patrol station for medical checkups and warm food.

Gerry Anderson was good on his word. He worked very hard and used all his skills and got the Monkees a sweet recording deal. Not only did they get a much bigger percentage of the profits, they now were given total artistic control over their albums. They were allowed to choose what songs they wanted to record plus they were allowed to play their own instruments. Any instruments they didn’t play, the Monkees made sure the musician who did play was given credit on the album.

So, the Monkees got to work and soon released ‘Headquarters’, with a ‘special thanks’ given to Chris, Arlene, Marcia and Stephanie Anderson.

Plus a credit to Arlene Anderson for playing the flute on one song.

THE END