Fifth Wheel Pt. 4
A gentle breeze from the open bay window behind him brought with it the sounds and smells of the ocean. It was peaceful in the pad when he was the only one home. The others had gone to try out for a gig across town and wouldn't be back for at least another hour. Trying to keep busy and help out, he had already started a pot of spaghetti and straightened up around the place. Now he was merely enjoying himself with his favorite pastime, music.
A loud knock at the door interrupted the tranquillity of the moment. Lenny sighed and got up to see who it was. A quick peek out the small window in the door identified the intruder as the landlord. The guys had made sure he knew who Mr. Babbitt was, identifying him from a distance. Lenny opened the door and greeted the man with a friendly smile.
"Hello, what can I do for ya Mr. Babbitt?"
The older man looked up in surprise at the newest resident of 1334 Beechwood.
"Who are you? How'd you know my name? Where are those deadbeats? " He asked grumpily.
"I'm Lenny, I just moved in last week. They pointed ya out as being the landlord, but it's nice to meet ya in person. I can give ya my part of the rent now if that's okay." He cheerfully babbled as he pulled out his wallet.
Mr. Babbitt was shocked speechless while Lenny carefully counted out fifty dollars and handed it to him. He stared at the cash in his hand for a moment then smiled back at the young man.
"Well thank you son, all you need now is a decent haircut and I think I might get to like you." He said as he turned to go.
Lenny waved good-bye to him and went back into the pad. Returning to the keyboard, he picked up the sheet music and looked at it again. The only actual words written on it were perhaps the song's title, "Where has it all gone". Lenny wondered once again who had written it. He knew that Peter was a songwriter, as well as Mike, but he didn't know about Micky and Davy. With a sigh, he switched the keyboard's settings to organ and began running through the notes again. He quickly became so absorbed with the music that an entire herd of buffalo could run through the pad without his noticing.
The Monkeemobile pulled up a while later and four tired young men got out. Micky went to the front door and was about to open it when the sound of music reached his ears.
"You hear that?" He whispered and motioned for the others to listen. Mike's eyes lit up with surprise and recognition at the melody.
"I think I know that song." He said and quietly opened the door.
He carefully stuck his head in and peered around. Noticing who was playing the keyboard, he waved Peter, Davy and Micky in behind him. Lenny paid no attention as Mike crept around him and picked up his acoustic guitar. After listening a moment to re-familiarize himself with the song he had started over a year earlier, Mike slowly joined in on the tune. Lenny looked up from the keyboard with surprise, but to his credit, didn't miss a note. The two of them played through the song several times before finally letting it end. Rounds of applause from the couch made both of them redden a bit, but they smiled and bowed anyway.
"You're good, real good" Mike said with a grin as he handed the guitar back to Lenny.
"Gee thanks, say was that your song?"
"Yep, I toyed around with it about a year ago. I couldn't quite get it to sound right so I dropped it, where'd you find it at?" Mike asked curiously.
"Under my mattress, I guess it used to be your mattress." Lenny confessed as he put his guitar back by the stage.
"Hey is this spaghetti?" Micky yelled excitedly from the kitchen. The rich aroma of homemade tomato sauce filled the pad when he lifted the lid from the large saucepan. Peter and Davy both dashed into the kitchen to investigate the wonderful smell.
"Yeah, it's one of the things I actually know how to cook thanks to Laverne." Lenny proudly boasted.
"You know fellows, I think we got ourselves a real gem in our new roommate." Davy admitted, "I for one will be glad not to have to eat any more cream of rootbeer soup."
"Now you know I only made it that one time, why do you guys always have to keep bringing it up?" Peter pouted.
"Cream of rootbeer soup?" Lenny asked in confusion, "I know somebody that drinks milk and Pepsi, but I've ain't never heard of that."
"Let's drop the subject, for everyone's sake." Mike suggested and went to the sink. "Uh, where are the dishes?"
"Up there in the cabinet, I washed 'em today." Lenny replied as he squeezed past him to drain the water from the spaghetti pot.
"He cooks, he cleans and plays rock and roll? Wow man, we need to hide him before some chick comes in and grabs him up." Micky laughed.
"You ain't gonna have no problem with that." Lenny sighed. "Girls don't exactly beat the door down to go out with me. Usually they beat the door down tryin' to get away."
"We can fix that, can't we fellows?" Davy said with a grin. "Just leave it to me Lenny, and you'll have chicks fighting over you."
"David Jones, the Manchester Casanova and his five-day course in love." Mike snickered, setting the plates out.
"Laugh all you want, but if I could get Peter and Valleri together, I can help anyone." Davy smugly replied, getting sodas out of the refrigerator for everyone.
"Hey! You didn't get Valleri and me together. Besides, we aren't together anymore, so it doesn't count anyway." Peter pointed out, heaping out a pile of spaghetti onto his plate.
"Can't we talk about somethin' else?" Lenny begged. He was getting tired of this subject. "How 'bout what happened today? Did ya get the gig?"
Micky sat down with a huge plate of spaghetti and nodded. "'Eah, 'e 'ou 'i." He mumbled around a mouthful of food. Mike reached over and lightly smacked him upside the head.
"Don't talk with your mouth full. Man, you make me sick sometimes." He grouched, "What he was tryin' to say was that we got the gig. We're gonna be playin' for the next four weekends this month."
"You know, I was just thinking..." Peter began. Davy immediately began waved his hands around as if fanning away smoke.
"I thought so, I was beginning to smell burnt hair." He interrupted with a fake coughing fit that ended with him in the floor gasping for breath.
"Do I need to get the fire extinguisher?" Micky laughed.
"No, you need to get muzzles for the both of you." Peter snapped angrily. He was beginning to get tired of being treated like an idiot.
"Sorry man, don't get mad." Micky apologized, realizing they had really hurt his feelings. Davy stopped rolling around and got up from the floor.
"Yeah Petah, we were just joking." He said, sitting down and returning to his meal.
"As I was saying, I was thinking maybe Lenny might want to join us at practice tonight." Peter finished, his wide smile back in it's normal place. Lenny looked at him in shock.
"Ya mean it?" He asked, totally taken by surprise.
"Yeah, well if it's okay with the others." Peter turned to Mike, a hopeful look in his eyes. Mike then looked at both Micky and Davy, who nodded their agreement.
"I guess it'd be okay. I have to admit, he plays pretty good." He finally replied, after letting them stew a few moments.
"Thanks Mike, you guys are great." Lenny happily said with a huge grin.
"No problem, you think you can learn some of our songs?" Mike asked after everything had calmed down a bit.
"Sure, I heard ya play 'em a few times. I can do 'em." Lenny answered confidently. Peter smiled to himself, if he was right, Lenny had a natural ear for music like he did. The gift of music frequently used up so much of a person's awareness; they were often mistaken for being stupid.
"We'll find out after dinner, hope you're ready."
Lenny Kosnowski sat at the keyboard, concentration etching fine lines across his forehead. He absently chewed his bottom lip as he slowly played the same notes over and over again. He knew what he was looking for; it just wasn't on the handwritten sheet music before him. The simple melody was excellent, but incomplete. He had found it under the mattress on his bed during the recent bout of moving and redecorating his joining the household had triggered. Lenny had meant to ask who might have written it, but after going over it a few times, he had become almost obsessed with finishing it.