It's A Mistake...October 8, 1973

October 8, 2010. A small town north of San Francisco. A man, around 70, with long gray pony-tailed hair, walks out of a building on Main Street. The street is dirty, but sort of looks like people are trying to take care of it, as if they're making an effort that isn't quite good enough to keep up. He locks the door behind him. An old, faded sign on the building reads "Warner Insurance Agency". On top of that is a sign carved and painted onto a large block of wood..."Main Street School". It's 3 pm, on a chilly fall afternoon...

"Hey Grandpa!"
"Jennie! Hello sweetheart. Does your mother know you're in town alone?"
"It's only a few blocks Grandpa, and she said I could go with you to the shore if you said it's ok."
"Alright, Jennie, you can come this time."
"Will you play a song for me, Grandpa?"
The old man touches the guitar tied into the basket on the front of his bicycle. "I think that can be arranged, munchkin..."

They pedal down Main Street, towards the shore that is just a mile away. Some of the businesses have newer signs over them, and people can be seen in those. Half of them, though, look as if they've been abandoned for a long time. Which they have been...for almost forty years.

It's about 5pm. Almost time for them to go home.

"Grandpa, I heard Mommy and Daddy say that you used to be a famous singer. Did you really do that?"

The old man gives her a smile...but it's a reflective one...a sad one.
"Yes, I was, Jennie. A long time ago, for a little while."
"You mean like the Beatles were before the War?"
"No, sweetheart, not like the Beatles were. They played for years and years, and they were the most famous music group in the world. I had one song that a lot of people liked, and people knew me by that. I had some other songs, but they always wanted to hear that one."

The little girl is confused now. She's grown up hearing her grandpa play a lot of songs...many is the night she's fallen asleep to the sound of his guitar. "Which song is it, Grandpa?"

"You've never heard this one, Jennie...I don't play it anymore. I haven't played it since the War."
"How come Grandpa? Will you play it for me, please? PLEEEEASE?"
"Well, sweetheart, it reminds Grandpa of before the War...when I was young, and the world was so good, and full of promise...but there were bad people in it. Evil people, like the ones who started the War. The song was about what could happen if people didn't stop them...and they didn't. So that's why I don't play it any more...it's like when Mommy tells you not to do something, and you do it anyway...she doesn't warn you again."
The little girl looked up at her grandfather. She'd never seen him like this.

"Grandpa, can I ask you a favor?"
"Sure, sweetie."
"Will you play the song for me now before we go back? Please?"

The old man looked down at her...for a moment, his face was bent in thought, as if the walls holding back 37 years of feelings were being torn down at once. Then he smiled at her, and he said "Sure, Jennie. I guess...I guess it's time."

Jennie scampered over to sit as his feet. The old man picked up his guitar, fingers on the strings...stopped for a moment, as if trying to bring out something he wanted to remember...and then the soft notes of the old guitar could be heard, followed by the old man's voice, as he sang the song for the first time in oh so many years...

"The eastern world...it is exploding..."
 
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