Fly Blackbird Fly

Derek could not believe it. Standing in the performing area of his bar were the three surviving members of the greatest rock band in the world: The Beatles.

The thirteen or fourteen patrons were all just as surprised as Derek at this wonderful, but unexpected, surprise. A supposedly normal Tuesday night of beers and chicken wings turned into a reunion of mythical proportions. The Beatles were here and for all practical purposes looked like they might do a set.

Paul, George, and Ringo had shown up at the front door fifteen minutes before opening wanting to set up for tonight’s show. Derek, surprised that rock’s greatest band had picked his bar to play, was too stupefied to say or do anything except let them inside. He sat and watched with a silly grin on his face as the band brought in three acoustic guitars and one tambourine before walking outside for a smoke. Derek followed them to offer his help with any other equipment. Paul sent him inside saying there was only one more piece and the band could handle it easily.

Derek returned inside to get ready for tonight’s crowd. He thought about making a call to the local newspaper and some friends. A Beatles reunion would be bigger than the second coming but it occurred to him this should be a small intimate encounter.

Paul, George, and Ringo entered wheeling a huge rectangular box Derek swore looked like a casket. It must be an amp for the guitars since there were none in place on stage. The three band members positioned the box in the back center of the performing area. They huddled together around it, apparently in conversation for a few moments before George and Ringo went outside. Paul approached Derek to tell him they would return in about an hour and a half to perform a small set tonight.

Like Derek, the bar full of regulars were as stupefied as Derek when the band took the stage. Most of them sat there open-mouthed, disbelieving the sight onstage. Derek couldn’t understand why the place didn’t explode with screaming or why people didn't rush from their chairs. He found he couldn’t leave the bar area though he was out of vodka. Not that anyone was ordering anything. People were just sitting, staring, and waiting for what might come next.

On stage, Paul gazed out at the small crowd and smiled. “This will have to do.” He turned and said to George and Ringo, both of whom walked to the rectangular box. George walked to one end and Ringo the other. Each lifted what looked like a latch and threw open the lid to the box. George looked in the box, turned to Paul, and nodded. Paul smiled at George, faced the audience, and began to speak. “We are so happy to be here tonight. This show has been a long time coming. We are even happier you have chosen to join us.”

When he opened his mouth, it sounded like someone had put on an old record, complete with the crackle and hiss before the song started. Derek looked around to see if anyone noticed the voice abnormality. Everyone else seemed to be staring at the stage as if caught in a trance. Derek felt an uneasy fear creep into him. Something wasn’t right and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

He looked towards the stage where Paul McCartney still smiled at the audience the way a man smiles at a juicy steak on the dinner table. George and Ringo had the same smiles on their faces. It didn’t make sense to Derek. Why would the members of a band be smiling if the thirteen people in the audience were just staring with no screaming or clapping? Derek would have put down his instrument, turned off the amps, and walked off stage.

That’s when he noticed there were no amps on stage yet Paul had spoken loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear. Derek didn’t see a wireless microphone; but even if there were one, there would still have to be an amp set up somewhere to handle reception of sound.

Derek’s thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of guitars being strummed. He looked towards the stage to see guitar tabs coming from the instruments as they were strummed. Derek’s jaw hit the floor. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing but somehow he couldn’t turn and run.

The tabs floated around the room and the patrons stared as the music floated around the room. Some of the tabs began to float down and swarm around the heads of some of the customers like moths around a porch light. Some tried to grab the notes but there hands just passed right through them. This got a laugh out of the first few that did it but the laughs quickly turned to screams and cries of agony.

As there hands passed through the tabs, light began to surround their bodies. The light glared hot white and smoke began emanating from around the room. Right before his eyes, Derek saw a few of the customer who had touched the tabs simply disintegrate. He couldn’t think of a better word. One moment, light surrounded the person, then nothing. They were gone.

The whole bar had become one hot glaring light. Derek felt his skin tighten and began to sweat from the heat. There was no one left in the bar except for himself and the Beatles. There were no patrons; no bodies, nothing left to suggest anyone was ever there. The tabs and the light had disappeared as well. The band was standing on the stage when Paul began to sing:

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven All good children go to heaven”

The staff with the notes and words came from his mouth and began circling the room. Where the patrons had been sitting began to glow orange as the staff floated around the bar. Paul began to sing the lines one more time and all the orange glow began to move towards the open rectangular box.

When the last of the glowing orange filled the box, the lid slammed shut. Derek jumped at the staccato slam. Paul, George, and Ringo put down their instruments and walked to the box. They had a short, huddled conversation before Paul opened the box.

Paul picked up his guitar, cleared his throat, and began to sing: Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly All your life, you were only waiting For this moment to arrive. You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

The staff came out of his mouth and down to the open box. There was an eerie orange glow before the lid slammed shut again.

Derek was beyond scared. One minute he was in a half filled bar watching the reunion of the greatest band the world had ever seen and the next minute he was standing there having watched the crowd disappear as if they had sold their souls to rock and roll. Now he was left alone with three Beatles and a large box full of God knows what.

Part of Derek was still fascinated by the fact that he bore witness to rock and roll immortality. The other half of him knew that he should turn tail and run away as fast as he can.

‘I wonder if the walrus is still Paul’

‘Of course he still is’ thought Derek, ‘The song said so and no one had written anything to the contrary since.’ He most definitely didn’t want to know how the other half, especially those in the box, were living right now.

Paul, George, and Ringo were gathered around the box, staring at the lid as if they were expecting something to happen.

“Maybe it needs one more.” George said.

Paul shook his head as Ringo stared hungrily at Derek. Derek suddenly had a vision of them under the sea in the shade. He wanted to laugh but a strange chill spread through his body.

‘This must be what Father McKenzie felt like.’

Orange light began to sneak out like smoke from under the lid of the box. Derek thought he heard tiny voices saying “Turn me on, dead man. Turn me on.” The whole box began to shake like something, or someone, was trying to get out. Somehow Derek knew that if he didn’t run right now, he’d soon find out how the other half lived, yeah.

Yet Derek couldn’t make himself leave. He was witnessing the reunion of the greatest band ever even if it meant losing his soul. How often do you get to be a part of something like this?

The lid rose slowly. In pure horror, Derek watched someone sit up in the box. Frozen to the spot, his soul was nailed to the floor. His mind yelled at him to run, but curiosity held him firm. He was around to see the reunion of the Beatles. Why should he run?

Derek was lost in thought and oblivious as the person made his way from the box and across the bar to him. He could smell the death and decay on the breath of John Lennon as he whispered:

“I know what it’s like to be dead. Soon you will too.”