Billie Joe's Third Son
Billie Joe meets up with someone familiar
2003
The airport was filled with people. I was now going to Scotland, to find my lost child. Mike'd followed me to the airport, he said he didn't have anything better to do. He seemed nervous for some strange reason, and looked around us all the time, as if he tried to keep something, or someone away from me.
I sighed, and went to check in, when some people came over and asked for my autograph, and a photo. A blonde, and a brown haired one. Both very skinny. Dyed hair, I could tell. They were definitely not from around here, they had a weird dialect.
"Don't you remember us, Billie Joe?" the brown haired one suddenly spoke. I gave her a weird look. They both looked like someone I'd look out for.
"No, I don't think so," I replied, wanting to get away from them.
"Look girls, Billie has to get on his plane, so excuse me.." Mike was suddenly right beside me.
"Mike! Can you please, please sign this?" the brown haired one asked Mike, and handed him a pen, and her handbag. Mike sighed, and grabbed her pen.
"We met you on seven eleven some months ago, Billie Joe," the blonde one said while Mike were busy signing the brown haired one's bags and clothes, you name it.
"You signed my bag. Look," she said and showed me her bag. I turned around to see if she was telling the truth, but she obviously wasn't.
'JOEY' the script said. I let out a small laugh.
"Sorry miss, but my name is not Joey," I replied, still half laughing. Mike came over to us, with an anxious expression on his face. He leaned in, and whispered something in my ear.
"Look man, we gotta get out of here. Those girls are freaking me out." I nodded in reply, and smiled sweetly at the blonde on.
"Sorry Miss. We have to go, I must catch a plane. You can catch up with Mike later." I looked over to Mike, which had gone from an anxious look, to an angry one.
"Before you go," the brown haired one said. "Why were you wearing a wig that day? We recognized you." I didn't reply, I thought she meant Mike, seeing as though I had no idea what either of them was speaking about. Mike sighed.
"The girl is talking to ya, Billie Joe," he said. I gave her a confused look.
"Alright, so first my name is Joey, then I wear a wig. What the hell is this? Mike? Is this some kind off freaky set up?" I said, looking from them to Mike.
"Well if it is," Mike replied. "It's Tré who's doing it."
"Guys," the blonde one said with that 'you-guys-are-nuts' look on her face.
"This isn't a set up. We met you on seven eleven in Glasgow some months ago, you wore a wig so no one could see who you really were, and you signed my bag. How can I know why you wrote 'Joey' instead of 'Billie Joe'?"
Me and Mike exchanged looks. Scotland. So that's why they had this weird dialect thing going on.
"May be you were dreaming," Mike suddenly spoke.
"Yes, so excuse me.." I began, but Mike cut me off.
"Just out of curiousity.. What exactly did this Billie look like? I mean, not that it matters but.."
Why the hell do you even bother asking them? I thought you wanted to get away from here as quick as possible. What's gotten into you, Mike?
"Well, the wig was pretty long. And red. And.. You should know the rest. I mean, you do know what he looks like," the blonde one, who did most of the talking, replied. Both of the girls giggled.
"Bill, when you searched on Regina's address on the internet yesterday and all of that.. When you found it, what town did the result say she lived in?" Mike suddenly looked nervous.
"Glasgow.. Why?" I replied.
What are you on about?
"Eh.. Uh.." Mike's face changed from normal skin colour to red.
"Come on Bill, let's go. Girls, nice talking, but Billie really need to catch his plane now."
He took me by the arm, leading me away from the girls, who shouted something like "wait Billie, you forgot to sign my chest," and all different sort of things.
When we came to my exit, he finally let go of my arm. I turned around to face him. I was slighty confused.
"Dude, what was all that about?" I asked.
"What?" he replied. His face was still red. Red like blood. He couldn't be blushing, could he?
Oh yes. I know you Michael Ryen Pritchard. You're nervous..
"That 'c'mon Bill, let's go' all of the sudden?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to get away from them, y'know." He let out a nervous laugh.
"Mike.. Find a mirror and take a look at yourself. You're blushing like hell," I replied. His grin disappeared, and his colour grew more and more red.
"No, I'm not.. You're just stupi.."
"All passengers with flight W78722 British Airwaves to London, must now report themselves to exit 125," some lady spoke over the microphone, interrupting Mike.
"That's your plane, Bill," he spoke. "Do as the lady says, and report yourself before it leaves without you. I have things to do, and places to go."
With that, he turned around leaving me alone on exit 125. I sighed. Mike'd been acting weird the last few days. I heard a 'beep' in my pocket. I searched it for my cell.
"One message from Mike," I read, and opened it.
"I hope you find what you're looking for," it said.
*
Berkeley
I was crying hysterically, when someone suddenly picked me up. I then heard a huge bang in the wall. It frightened me a little, but the arms that picked me up, seemed strong and safe.
"What am I to do now.." a male voice spoke. A voice I'd heard so many times before. A voice that used to sing out of Antonia's loud speakers back in Scotland. A voice who came out of the television each time they were on. A voice I knew..
"Joey." Mum's voice flew around sometimes, before I realised she'd just ruined my dream.
"Wake up sweetie. The clock is already past 2PM."
"Thanks Mum, you just ruined my sleep and good dream," I replied.
Had it been a good dream?
She smiled. "What were you dreaming?"
I concentrated on the dream, and came to realise I didn't remember a shit.
"I don't remember now. All I remember was that it was a good one, and it was close to.." I thought harder. I knew I had been dreaming something I wanted to happen, but I had forgotten it, and there was nothing to do with that.
"Well, you've slept long enough. And there's someone in the livingroom who'd like to meet you."
"You can hardly blame me for sleeping to late on the afternoon, mother. The time is different from Scotland to here. And I don't want to meet anybody," I replied with a yawn.
"Believe me, you want to meet him. You've been argueing with me about him for years now." She got up, and left me alone to think again.
Who would I want to meet that my mother knew?
I had to admit I was exited, so I quickly got up, and ran to the bathroom. I got dressed in a hurry, not bothering to apply any eyeliner, and ran downstairs.
When I entered the livingroom, my mouth dropped wide open. In Amanda's favorite chair sat the guy from the airport.
The airport was filled with people. I was now going to Scotland, to find my lost child. Mike'd followed me to the airport, he said he didn't have anything better to do. He seemed nervous for some strange reason, and looked around us all the time, as if he tried to keep something, or someone away from me.
I sighed, and went to check in, when some people came over and asked for my autograph, and a photo. A blonde, and a brown haired one. Both very skinny. Dyed hair, I could tell. They were definitely not from around here, they had a weird dialect.
"Don't you remember us, Billie Joe?" the brown haired one suddenly spoke. I gave her a weird look. They both looked like someone I'd look out for.
"No, I don't think so," I replied, wanting to get away from them.
"Look girls, Billie has to get on his plane, so excuse me.." Mike was suddenly right beside me.
"Mike! Can you please, please sign this?" the brown haired one asked Mike, and handed him a pen, and her handbag. Mike sighed, and grabbed her pen.
"We met you on seven eleven some months ago, Billie Joe," the blonde one said while Mike were busy signing the brown haired one's bags and clothes, you name it.
"You signed my bag. Look," she said and showed me her bag. I turned around to see if she was telling the truth, but she obviously wasn't.
'JOEY' the script said. I let out a small laugh.
"Sorry miss, but my name is not Joey," I replied, still half laughing. Mike came over to us, with an anxious expression on his face. He leaned in, and whispered something in my ear.
"Look man, we gotta get out of here. Those girls are freaking me out." I nodded in reply, and smiled sweetly at the blonde on.
"Sorry Miss. We have to go, I must catch a plane. You can catch up with Mike later." I looked over to Mike, which had gone from an anxious look, to an angry one.
"Before you go," the brown haired one said. "Why were you wearing a wig that day? We recognized you." I didn't reply, I thought she meant Mike, seeing as though I had no idea what either of them was speaking about. Mike sighed.
"The girl is talking to ya, Billie Joe," he said. I gave her a confused look.
"Alright, so first my name is Joey, then I wear a wig. What the hell is this? Mike? Is this some kind off freaky set up?" I said, looking from them to Mike.
"Well if it is," Mike replied. "It's Tré who's doing it."
"Guys," the blonde one said with that 'you-guys-are-nuts' look on her face.
"This isn't a set up. We met you on seven eleven in Glasgow some months ago, you wore a wig so no one could see who you really were, and you signed my bag. How can I know why you wrote 'Joey' instead of 'Billie Joe'?"
Me and Mike exchanged looks. Scotland. So that's why they had this weird dialect thing going on.
"May be you were dreaming," Mike suddenly spoke.
"Yes, so excuse me.." I began, but Mike cut me off.
"Just out of curiousity.. What exactly did this Billie look like? I mean, not that it matters but.."
Why the hell do you even bother asking them? I thought you wanted to get away from here as quick as possible. What's gotten into you, Mike?
"Well, the wig was pretty long. And red. And.. You should know the rest. I mean, you do know what he looks like," the blonde one, who did most of the talking, replied. Both of the girls giggled.
"Bill, when you searched on Regina's address on the internet yesterday and all of that.. When you found it, what town did the result say she lived in?" Mike suddenly looked nervous.
"Glasgow.. Why?" I replied.
What are you on about?
"Eh.. Uh.." Mike's face changed from normal skin colour to red.
"Come on Bill, let's go. Girls, nice talking, but Billie really need to catch his plane now."
He took me by the arm, leading me away from the girls, who shouted something like "wait Billie, you forgot to sign my chest," and all different sort of things.
When we came to my exit, he finally let go of my arm. I turned around to face him. I was slighty confused.
"Dude, what was all that about?" I asked.
"What?" he replied. His face was still red. Red like blood. He couldn't be blushing, could he?
Oh yes. I know you Michael Ryen Pritchard. You're nervous..
"That 'c'mon Bill, let's go' all of the sudden?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to get away from them, y'know." He let out a nervous laugh.
"Mike.. Find a mirror and take a look at yourself. You're blushing like hell," I replied. His grin disappeared, and his colour grew more and more red.
"No, I'm not.. You're just stupi.."
"All passengers with flight W78722 British Airwaves to London, must now report themselves to exit 125," some lady spoke over the microphone, interrupting Mike.
"That's your plane, Bill," he spoke. "Do as the lady says, and report yourself before it leaves without you. I have things to do, and places to go."
With that, he turned around leaving me alone on exit 125. I sighed. Mike'd been acting weird the last few days. I heard a 'beep' in my pocket. I searched it for my cell.
"One message from Mike," I read, and opened it.
"I hope you find what you're looking for," it said.
*
Berkeley
I was crying hysterically, when someone suddenly picked me up. I then heard a huge bang in the wall. It frightened me a little, but the arms that picked me up, seemed strong and safe.
"What am I to do now.." a male voice spoke. A voice I'd heard so many times before. A voice that used to sing out of Antonia's loud speakers back in Scotland. A voice who came out of the television each time they were on. A voice I knew..
"Joey." Mum's voice flew around sometimes, before I realised she'd just ruined my dream.
"Wake up sweetie. The clock is already past 2PM."
"Thanks Mum, you just ruined my sleep and good dream," I replied.
Had it been a good dream?
She smiled. "What were you dreaming?"
I concentrated on the dream, and came to realise I didn't remember a shit.
"I don't remember now. All I remember was that it was a good one, and it was close to.." I thought harder. I knew I had been dreaming something I wanted to happen, but I had forgotten it, and there was nothing to do with that.
"Well, you've slept long enough. And there's someone in the livingroom who'd like to meet you."
"You can hardly blame me for sleeping to late on the afternoon, mother. The time is different from Scotland to here. And I don't want to meet anybody," I replied with a yawn.
"Believe me, you want to meet him. You've been argueing with me about him for years now." She got up, and left me alone to think again.
Who would I want to meet that my mother knew?
I had to admit I was exited, so I quickly got up, and ran to the bathroom. I got dressed in a hurry, not bothering to apply any eyeliner, and ran downstairs.
When I entered the livingroom, my mouth dropped wide open. In Amanda's favorite chair sat the guy from the airport.