Maureen found me the address of the hotel Ringo was staying in while he was recording of touring - even she wasn't sure which it was. She offered to drive me there, too, but she wouldn't go in with me. "I don't know what he'll say if I'm there. I think you'd better do this on your own." But she did give me a slip of paper she had signed, saying that I had to get in to see Ringo and should be allowed into his room. "That'll stop them giving u trouble at the front desk," Maureen zei with satisfaction.
The hotel in vraag was quite a fancy one, nicer than any I had ever stayed it, though I supposed it was right that a Beatle should stay in the best places. I went to the front bureau and asked for Ringo Starr's room. The bureau clerk, like Maureen had thought, wouldn't help me, until I gave him the paper signed door Ringo's wife, and that worked. I was escorted up to a room on the top, boven floor, and the clerk knocked on the door.
My hart-, hart was pounding in my chest as the door opened. Yes - that was really Ringo standing in the doorway, looking curiously at both of us, staring at me with a friendly but puzzled look.
The bureau clerk told Ringo that "this young lady says she needs to see you," motioned to me to go inside, and left us alone. Ringo watched me, waiting to see what I wanted. I felt happily dizzy standing there volgende to him and all I could say was, "You're Ringo!"
"I know," he said. "Who're you, though?"
"Carrie," I managed to say, gazing at him adoringly. Ringo offered me a seat, maybe to stop me staring up at him like I was. I sat on his couch, and he sat volgende to me. "Carrie," he said. "How did u get that clerk to let u in here?" He sounded somehow amused that I had managed that.
"I - Maureen let me in. She told him to let me in."
Ringo frowned a bit at the mention of Maureen, and I remembered what Maureen had been saying about how things were between the two of them. "Maureen," Ringo said. "She's always on about my going off to do me own thing. Can't get any time to meself with her around. Did she ask u to bring me back to her?" he added.
"No," I said, quickly trying to get off the subject, because none of this could work if Ringo was in a bad mood. "I needed to come here, to talk to you. To tell u u have to help Paul."
Ringo's look changed; he sat suddenly upright, alarmed. "Paul's in trouble?"
"He's in the same trouble he was in three years ago," I said. And I pulled out my copy of "The Long and Winding Road" and gave it to him.
Ringo took it, looking at the cover with a bit of confusion, but I thought I saw sad, wistful memories in his blue eyes. Finally, he turned to me. "What's this for?"
"Do u remember it?" I asked him. "You must remember. Paul was sad, he was so sad because the four of you, who are like his brothers, he told me, were falling apart and he couldn't stop you! We have to help him, Ringo!"
Ringo stared at me, and for a seconde he didn't say anything. Then he zei slowly, as if he was trying to get all his thoughts together, "Yeah, he was upset then. We all were; all we could do anymore was fight. What d'you want me to do about that?"
I looked Ringo Starr right in the eyes, something I hadn't managed to do before; being with him awed me so much. "Bring the Beatles back together."
Ringo blinked. "Bring the Beatles back together?"
I nodded. "He misses you."
Ringo shook his head. "He doesn't. He likes doin' his own thing. They all like it better - I think."
I caught the way he zei that, though. "'They' like it better that way? That means u don't!"
"Well, I - it doesn't matter, u know! None of them will agree to it."
"You zei u only thought they liked this better."
Ringo seemed to be thinking. Gently, I said, "Ringo. We're not bringing the Beatles back together to be like this." I tapped the "Long and Winding Road" cover in his lap. "We're bringing u back together like this." And on top, boven of the record sleeve, I laid the picture from Paul's living room.
Ringo's small, ringed hands slowly went to the picture, touching it like a priceless treasure. "Where did u get that?"
"I- I borrowed it from Paul," I confessed. "He doesn't know I have it - but he won't mind! I did it for him..." I had figured that, once I found the other Beatles, I might not know what to say to remind them of the old days. But this happy picture would remind them.
Ringo traced his fingers over the picture. "I remember this," he said, not really listening to me. "We'd all ran off on one of our tours, I think we were supposed to be staying inside. Course we never did, but they never knew that. We just had to get back before the volgende thing we had to do. We'd come runnin' in at the last minute," a wide, laughing smile playing on his lips, "just when they were startin' to think we weren't coming...."
I sat and listened as Ringo went on, talking about the Beatles' early touring days and the things they had done and the fun they had had. It all sounded so bright and beautiful, it seemed to sparkle as Ringo described it, and it was all so different from any stories I had heard of their later years, which suddenly all seemed dark and gloomy in comparison. Had the dark later years completely blotted out the sunny early years? Then it was up to me to fix that. I found myself edging closer and closer to Ringo, leaning against his arm as he spoke, closer to a Beatle than I had ever been, and it was wonderful....
"You will do it?" I said, when he was done. "You can all be that way again, just like u were before...."
"I dunno." Ringo hesitated, but not with quite so much conviction this time. "We'll all be middle-aged and old soon. It might not work the same."
"Of course it will," I assured him. "Have u seen Paul recently?"
Ringo laughed.
"So you're in?"
"Well..." Ringo paused, but his mind seemed to be made up already, "if u can get John and George to agree to it - yeah. I'm in."
The hotel in vraag was quite a fancy one, nicer than any I had ever stayed it, though I supposed it was right that a Beatle should stay in the best places. I went to the front bureau and asked for Ringo Starr's room. The bureau clerk, like Maureen had thought, wouldn't help me, until I gave him the paper signed door Ringo's wife, and that worked. I was escorted up to a room on the top, boven floor, and the clerk knocked on the door.
My hart-, hart was pounding in my chest as the door opened. Yes - that was really Ringo standing in the doorway, looking curiously at both of us, staring at me with a friendly but puzzled look.
The bureau clerk told Ringo that "this young lady says she needs to see you," motioned to me to go inside, and left us alone. Ringo watched me, waiting to see what I wanted. I felt happily dizzy standing there volgende to him and all I could say was, "You're Ringo!"
"I know," he said. "Who're you, though?"
"Carrie," I managed to say, gazing at him adoringly. Ringo offered me a seat, maybe to stop me staring up at him like I was. I sat on his couch, and he sat volgende to me. "Carrie," he said. "How did u get that clerk to let u in here?" He sounded somehow amused that I had managed that.
"I - Maureen let me in. She told him to let me in."
Ringo frowned a bit at the mention of Maureen, and I remembered what Maureen had been saying about how things were between the two of them. "Maureen," Ringo said. "She's always on about my going off to do me own thing. Can't get any time to meself with her around. Did she ask u to bring me back to her?" he added.
"No," I said, quickly trying to get off the subject, because none of this could work if Ringo was in a bad mood. "I needed to come here, to talk to you. To tell u u have to help Paul."
Ringo's look changed; he sat suddenly upright, alarmed. "Paul's in trouble?"
"He's in the same trouble he was in three years ago," I said. And I pulled out my copy of "The Long and Winding Road" and gave it to him.
Ringo took it, looking at the cover with a bit of confusion, but I thought I saw sad, wistful memories in his blue eyes. Finally, he turned to me. "What's this for?"
"Do u remember it?" I asked him. "You must remember. Paul was sad, he was so sad because the four of you, who are like his brothers, he told me, were falling apart and he couldn't stop you! We have to help him, Ringo!"
Ringo stared at me, and for a seconde he didn't say anything. Then he zei slowly, as if he was trying to get all his thoughts together, "Yeah, he was upset then. We all were; all we could do anymore was fight. What d'you want me to do about that?"
I looked Ringo Starr right in the eyes, something I hadn't managed to do before; being with him awed me so much. "Bring the Beatles back together."
Ringo blinked. "Bring the Beatles back together?"
I nodded. "He misses you."
Ringo shook his head. "He doesn't. He likes doin' his own thing. They all like it better - I think."
I caught the way he zei that, though. "'They' like it better that way? That means u don't!"
"Well, I - it doesn't matter, u know! None of them will agree to it."
"You zei u only thought they liked this better."
Ringo seemed to be thinking. Gently, I said, "Ringo. We're not bringing the Beatles back together to be like this." I tapped the "Long and Winding Road" cover in his lap. "We're bringing u back together like this." And on top, boven of the record sleeve, I laid the picture from Paul's living room.
Ringo's small, ringed hands slowly went to the picture, touching it like a priceless treasure. "Where did u get that?"
"I- I borrowed it from Paul," I confessed. "He doesn't know I have it - but he won't mind! I did it for him..." I had figured that, once I found the other Beatles, I might not know what to say to remind them of the old days. But this happy picture would remind them.
Ringo traced his fingers over the picture. "I remember this," he said, not really listening to me. "We'd all ran off on one of our tours, I think we were supposed to be staying inside. Course we never did, but they never knew that. We just had to get back before the volgende thing we had to do. We'd come runnin' in at the last minute," a wide, laughing smile playing on his lips, "just when they were startin' to think we weren't coming...."
I sat and listened as Ringo went on, talking about the Beatles' early touring days and the things they had done and the fun they had had. It all sounded so bright and beautiful, it seemed to sparkle as Ringo described it, and it was all so different from any stories I had heard of their later years, which suddenly all seemed dark and gloomy in comparison. Had the dark later years completely blotted out the sunny early years? Then it was up to me to fix that. I found myself edging closer and closer to Ringo, leaning against his arm as he spoke, closer to a Beatle than I had ever been, and it was wonderful....
"You will do it?" I said, when he was done. "You can all be that way again, just like u were before...."
"I dunno." Ringo hesitated, but not with quite so much conviction this time. "We'll all be middle-aged and old soon. It might not work the same."
"Of course it will," I assured him. "Have u seen Paul recently?"
Ringo laughed.
"So you're in?"
"Well..." Ringo paused, but his mind seemed to be made up already, "if u can get John and George to agree to it - yeah. I'm in."
