The writing prompt was to take one of the titles of a Beatles song and use it to inspire an original story, poem, or memoir of your own. I chose a few.
Hello, Goodbye – a Beatles journey
I remember it all as if it were yesterday. My name is Noah, Noah Airman. The year was 1965. I was to go to the engagement party of Rita, Lovely Rita, meter maid in a small town outside of Moscow. Wasn’t supposed to take any time at all. I had never met Rita before, but she was a friend of a friend and I was invited. We had all come together for this one occasion. Rita was going to marry a major figure in the Russian mob. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time.
After the party, Rita introduced me to her fiancé, a Mr. Obladi Oblada. Right then and there I should have gone home.
I said, “My name is Noah Airman, glad to meet you, sir.”
He gripped my hand firmly, looked me straight in the eye and replied, “No formality needed here. I am the Walrus,“ obviously referring to his mob designation, “You can call me Wally.” He continued looking at me and then turned to stare into the face of Rita, who happened to be eyeing me in an amorous sort of way.
About a week later I happened to run into Rita again. She glanced at me with puppy dog eyes and asked if I could take her for a ride. “Baby, you can drive my car,” she said. I should have realized right there trouble was brewing.
I got behind the wheel of her Mustang and she sat down very close to me as we drove off. It was a long and winding road. After a while, she nudged even closer to me and said, “I want to hold your hand.” and tenderly took my hand. I stopped the car.
I was not prepared for what happened next. She put her lips close to my ear and whispered, “Do you want to know a secret?”
This boy did not know what to say. She didn’t wait for a response. As she moved her hand to my leg she uttered, “Oh Darling, Please, Please me”.
I didn’t know what to do. I called out, “You’ve got to hide your love away. You’re going to marry Wally.” I feigned dropping something on the floor of the car all I’ve got to do is get out of the car. As I bent down all hell broke loose. I guess back in the U.S.S.R. mob bosses don’t appreciate women who are betrothed to them trying to make passes at other men. To them, happiness is a warm gun. Bullets flew as a car drove by and Rita was dead.
I was left alone by myself. Calling for Help I need somebody was useless. In my life, I’ve never been so scared. I was the fool on the hill.
I finally did make it back to my hotel unscathed and unseen and left as soon as I could. I decided to let it be and not mention the incident to anyone. I flew to Norway. Last I heard Wally was also killed a short time later during some mob takeover. That was a day in the life of me I’ll never forget.
Norway, too, was eventful but in a different way. I was a day tripper one day, hiking in the Norwegian Wood, and I saw her standing there under a tree. Her name was Michelle, she was a young French girl. We spoke a little and it wasn’t long before I realized, she’s a woman and she loves you, yeh, yeh, yeh. And I love her. I figured you can’t buy me love; this was the real thing. Even knowing she was just seventeen, I knew we were meant to be all together now and forever across the universe.
I told her, “I’ll keep you satisfied and keep on giving you all my loving, so when I grow older, like when I’m 64 or so, it will still be the two of us and I can still wake up each morning look lovingly into your eyes and say, Good day Sunshine.”
Remember, in the end, The love you take is equal to the love you make.
p.s. I love you.
