GOODNIGHT, SWEET PARTRIDGE
The girl wasn't very old; maybe fifteen at the most. She could have been any one of the students on the other side of the fence; or their little sister, perhaps.
She stood watching as the final bell rang and the kids from San Pueblo High School ended their day, pouring out of the largely stucco and clay-topped building. Laughter emitted from most of the students; it was Friday, after all, and the weekend was just beginning.
The girl's eyes scanned the crowd as if she searched for someone in particular and hadn't spotted them, yet. He had to be here, she told herself. The Family wasn't touring until next month, at least that's what she'd read in the glossy fan magazine she that clutched in her hand.
Still no sign of him; she was growing impatient. Maybe he'd been kept after school. Keith Partridge wasn't known for his mind, after all. He could very well be stuck in Geometry, or even perhaps detention. She hadn't thought of that. She knew he wasn't a trouble-maker; the magazines had called him 'a leader'. He also could be staying after for some athletic reason, though she doubted that. She hadn't seen many photos of him in uniform or anything, and she knew he wasn't in the school band. Maybe he was just running late; perhaps talking to a friend at his locker or something. She wondered if she dared go onto the school grounds. Why not? She asked herself. No one would notice; they would just think she was a new girl, especially if she asked anyone for directions.
Bravely, she stepped around the fence into an opening near a large bush and joined the hundreds of kids milling about. She wondered if they knew just how lucky they were, going to the same school as Keith Partridge. They got to see him five days a week, while she felt lucky to have seen him twice in concert back in Muncie, Indiana. How would it be, she pondered, sitting behind him in a class, having those beautiful, brown locks of his practically in your face, hearing his voice as he read a love poem (or anything!) out loud, watching his face as he joked around with his buddies…
"Hey, Partridge!" a male voice jolted her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see a tall, blond boy, his arm around a much shorter girl waving in the direction of the school.
Her eyes darted to the building and her heart stopped. There he was, dressed in a tight knit blue shirt that was open at the collar, revealing a smooth, lightly tanned chest, form fitting jeans and boots. His books were dangling in his hand at his side and the grin he threw at his friend nearly floored her. He was gorgeous!
"Hey, Archie, what's up?" He spoke and his voice gave her chills.
"You going to the game? We're playing Riverdale tonight."
Keith shook his head, and she swallowed, watching the afternoon light ripple through his hair. "I don't think so. I've got a rehearsal, and then I'm taking Samantha Dozier to a play. Laurie insists that we see it. Some psychedelic Shakespeare thing, I think."
Her heart fell. He had a date? How could he? The magazine said he was too busy to date! It said he would rather stay home, write music and play his guitar! There was no mention of a girlfriend! Almost in shock, she listened more.
"Oooh, Samantha Dozier, huh?" Archie grinned. "She's hot, Partridge. How'd you manage that?"
"Yeah, Keith. Word has it that she doesn't want to end up like Connie, Melissa or Denise, and every other girl in the school you've dated and then dumped," Archie's girl said.
Keith's gaze dropped shyly, but the dimpled smile remained. "Yeah, well, after three weeks of my begging, she finally gave in." He looked up again. "Once I take her up to Muldoon's Point, she'll give in again, I hope!" He laughed, winking.
The girl was mortified. Keith Partridge, a Casanova? How could this be? If she hadn't heard it with her own two ears, she would have never believed it! The fan magazine had lied to her! All this time, they were portraying him as a gentle boy, who loved his family and his work…a sweet, caring young man who was busy giving his all to his music. He hadn't had much time to date, they said, but he was looking for that Special One; the girl he would most likely never find because he was so loyal to his family, his friends; his country. Keith Partridge was figuratively one badge shy of Eagle Scout, that's what she'd been told, and it was the reason she'd come all this way!
She was infuriated, now, and could barely look at him. Yes, he was still beautiful - on the outside - but now she knew the real him. Turning on her heel, she stormed back to the other side of the fence.
Shirley Partridge walked in on a complete hullabaloo in the garage. Chris and Danny were banging away on their instruments without any tune or rhythm at all. Laurie listlessly played the same four notes over and over on her keyboard, adding to her brothers' racket, and even little Tracy got in on the act by tossing her tambourine as high as she could then dashing around the room to catch it. The only one of her brood not participating was Keith, and it was only because he hadn't arrived, yet.
"All right you kids, better knock it off before Keith sees you acting like this!" Shirley shouted above the din.
The noise subsided exactly at the moment Keith entered. "Busted!" he frowned, grabbing his guitar. "I heard it before I pulled into the driveway."
"We're sorry, Mom, but it's Friday…we're just winding down from a hard day at school," Chris explained.
"Yeah, and I've got better things to do than rehearse. Punky got a new skateboard and I've gotta think of stuff to trade for his old one," Danny almost whined.
Keith whirled on him."You'd better start concentrating on that bridge in "Summer Days" you keep messing up, or I'll eliminate the middle man, or should I say skateboard, and break your leg myself," he snapped.
"Well, Mr. Sunshine, so glad you could make it," Laurie said to him.
He sighed. "Look, I know it's Friday and you're anxious to start your weekend, but we've got to get these songs down. We're recording the album in two weeks."
Shirley put her hand on his shoulder, looking around at the rest of the kids. "Keith's right. He's worked long and hard on these songs, and if we're not ready with them, he gets all the grief from Reuben, the press, everyone. Now, come on, let's make him proud of us."
"Thanks, Mom," Keith smiled. It wasn't easy, being the center of a group. And, she was right. Every little thing that went wrong, somehow he got the blame. Then again, he also got all the attention, which, most of the time, wasn't so bad. He turned to his siblings. "Okay, I apologize for being so crabby. Let's get this crazy thing over with so we can get on with the weekend!" He grinned.
Shirley just shook her head. They were just kids, after all…
The girl was literally shaking as she stepped into the crowded bus station. Those street people were scary; she'd only asked for some pills, and she'd given them cash. They acted like she was trying to rip them off, or something!
Sitting down on a dirty bench, she looked at the handful of multicolored pills in her hand. Would it be enough to do the job? She didn't want to just go to sleep; she wanted to die. All because of Keith Partridge and his myriad of girlfriends and bold face lies.
She opened the fan magazine, turning to the glossy close-up photo of him near the center. She sat there, staring at it for the longest time, her heart breaking more with each passing moment. He just looked back at her, his brown eyes boring into her very soul. Her eyes welled with tears as she looked down at that beautiful, evil face. Her grandmother had always said the Devil was handsome, and she'd been right! Closing her eyes, she tore the picture from the magazine. Leaving the rest of it on the bench, she got up and headed for the ladies room, the picture clutched in one hand and the pills in the other.
She slipped into a stall, and, after fishing through her pockets, she tossed her identification card into the toilet bowl, flushed it, and then gently put the lid down on the seat. She perched cross-legged on the lid, taking another long, last look at the picture; those perfect features and that phony smile. He'll be sorry, she thought, her hand trembling as she took a deep breath. She popped the pills into her mouth quickly, before she had time to change her mind. Swallowing them down, she sat back and waited for the end to come, the picture of Keith still in her shaking hand.
The girl wasn't very old; maybe fifteen at the most. She could have been any one of the students on the other side of the fence; or their little sister, perhaps.
She stood watching as the final bell rang and the kids from San Pueblo High School ended their day, pouring out of the largely stucco and clay-topped building. Laughter emitted from most of the students; it was Friday, after all, and the weekend was just beginning.
The girl's eyes scanned the crowd as if she searched for someone in particular and hadn't spotted them, yet. He had to be here, she told herself. The Family wasn't touring until next month, at least that's what she'd read in the glossy fan magazine she that clutched in her hand.
Still no sign of him; she was growing impatient. Maybe he'd been kept after school. Keith Partridge wasn't known for his mind, after all. He could very well be stuck in Geometry, or even perhaps detention. She hadn't thought of that. She knew he wasn't a trouble-maker; the magazines had called him 'a leader'. He also could be staying after for some athletic reason, though she doubted that. She hadn't seen many photos of him in uniform or anything, and she knew he wasn't in the school band. Maybe he was just running late; perhaps talking to a friend at his locker or something. She wondered if she dared go onto the school grounds. Why not? She asked herself. No one would notice; they would just think she was a new girl, especially if she asked anyone for directions.
Bravely, she stepped around the fence into an opening near a large bush and joined the hundreds of kids milling about. She wondered if they knew just how lucky they were, going to the same school as Keith Partridge. They got to see him five days a week, while she felt lucky to have seen him twice in concert back in Muncie, Indiana. How would it be, she pondered, sitting behind him in a class, having those beautiful, brown locks of his practically in your face, hearing his voice as he read a love poem (or anything!) out loud, watching his face as he joked around with his buddies…
"Hey, Partridge!" a male voice jolted her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see a tall, blond boy, his arm around a much shorter girl waving in the direction of the school.
Her eyes darted to the building and her heart stopped. There he was, dressed in a tight knit blue shirt that was open at the collar, revealing a smooth, lightly tanned chest, form fitting jeans and boots. His books were dangling in his hand at his side and the grin he threw at his friend nearly floored her. He was gorgeous!
"Hey, Archie, what's up?" He spoke and his voice gave her chills.
"You going to the game? We're playing Riverdale tonight."
Keith shook his head, and she swallowed, watching the afternoon light ripple through his hair. "I don't think so. I've got a rehearsal, and then I'm taking Samantha Dozier to a play. Laurie insists that we see it. Some psychedelic Shakespeare thing, I think."
Her heart fell. He had a date? How could he? The magazine said he was too busy to date! It said he would rather stay home, write music and play his guitar! There was no mention of a girlfriend! Almost in shock, she listened more.
"Oooh, Samantha Dozier, huh?" Archie grinned. "She's hot, Partridge. How'd you manage that?"
"Yeah, Keith. Word has it that she doesn't want to end up like Connie, Melissa or Denise, and every other girl in the school you've dated and then dumped," Archie's girl said.
Keith's gaze dropped shyly, but the dimpled smile remained. "Yeah, well, after three weeks of my begging, she finally gave in." He looked up again. "Once I take her up to Muldoon's Point, she'll give in again, I hope!" He laughed, winking.
The girl was mortified. Keith Partridge, a Casanova? How could this be? If she hadn't heard it with her own two ears, she would have never believed it! The fan magazine had lied to her! All this time, they were portraying him as a gentle boy, who loved his family and his work…a sweet, caring young man who was busy giving his all to his music. He hadn't had much time to date, they said, but he was looking for that Special One; the girl he would most likely never find because he was so loyal to his family, his friends; his country. Keith Partridge was figuratively one badge shy of Eagle Scout, that's what she'd been told, and it was the reason she'd come all this way!
She was infuriated, now, and could barely look at him. Yes, he was still beautiful - on the outside - but now she knew the real him. Turning on her heel, she stormed back to the other side of the fence.
Shirley Partridge walked in on a complete hullabaloo in the garage. Chris and Danny were banging away on their instruments without any tune or rhythm at all. Laurie listlessly played the same four notes over and over on her keyboard, adding to her brothers' racket, and even little Tracy got in on the act by tossing her tambourine as high as she could then dashing around the room to catch it. The only one of her brood not participating was Keith, and it was only because he hadn't arrived, yet.
"All right you kids, better knock it off before Keith sees you acting like this!" Shirley shouted above the din.
The noise subsided exactly at the moment Keith entered. "Busted!" he frowned, grabbing his guitar. "I heard it before I pulled into the driveway."
"We're sorry, Mom, but it's Friday…we're just winding down from a hard day at school," Chris explained.
"Yeah, and I've got better things to do than rehearse. Punky got a new skateboard and I've gotta think of stuff to trade for his old one," Danny almost whined.
Keith whirled on him."You'd better start concentrating on that bridge in "Summer Days" you keep messing up, or I'll eliminate the middle man, or should I say skateboard, and break your leg myself," he snapped.
"Well, Mr. Sunshine, so glad you could make it," Laurie said to him.
He sighed. "Look, I know it's Friday and you're anxious to start your weekend, but we've got to get these songs down. We're recording the album in two weeks."
Shirley put her hand on his shoulder, looking around at the rest of the kids. "Keith's right. He's worked long and hard on these songs, and if we're not ready with them, he gets all the grief from Reuben, the press, everyone. Now, come on, let's make him proud of us."
"Thanks, Mom," Keith smiled. It wasn't easy, being the center of a group. And, she was right. Every little thing that went wrong, somehow he got the blame. Then again, he also got all the attention, which, most of the time, wasn't so bad. He turned to his siblings. "Okay, I apologize for being so crabby. Let's get this crazy thing over with so we can get on with the weekend!" He grinned.
Shirley just shook her head. They were just kids, after all…
The girl was literally shaking as she stepped into the crowded bus station. Those street people were scary; she'd only asked for some pills, and she'd given them cash. They acted like she was trying to rip them off, or something!
Sitting down on a dirty bench, she looked at the handful of multicolored pills in her hand. Would it be enough to do the job? She didn't want to just go to sleep; she wanted to die. All because of Keith Partridge and his myriad of girlfriends and bold face lies.
She opened the fan magazine, turning to the glossy close-up photo of him near the center. She sat there, staring at it for the longest time, her heart breaking more with each passing moment. He just looked back at her, his brown eyes boring into her very soul. Her eyes welled with tears as she looked down at that beautiful, evil face. Her grandmother had always said the Devil was handsome, and she'd been right! Closing her eyes, she tore the picture from the magazine. Leaving the rest of it on the bench, she got up and headed for the ladies room, the picture clutched in one hand and the pills in the other.
She slipped into a stall, and, after fishing through her pockets, she tossed her identification card into the toilet bowl, flushed it, and then gently put the lid down on the seat. She perched cross-legged on the lid, taking another long, last look at the picture; those perfect features and that phony smile. He'll be sorry, she thought, her hand trembling as she took a deep breath. She popped the pills into her mouth quickly, before she had time to change her mind. Swallowing them down, she sat back and waited for the end to come, the picture of Keith still in her shaking hand.