Livin’ the Dream

By Michael J. Bruijn

This story is for music lovers and the young at heart. First-time author Michael Bruijn spins a tale of intrigue and adventure in Livin the Dream. From England to America and on to Austria, Jack and Lil must complete a mystical quest to prove themselves and to help change the lives of those around them. But what if the crypt, which has already claimed the lives of many who were not appropriately forewarned or forearmed, is impenetrable or, worse, empty? Along the journey, you will find the titles of everlasting tunes cleverly woven into the story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Apr 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543407167

Michael J. Bruijn

Michael Bruijn taught for 32 years all around Western Australia. When he was forced to take early retirement, it gave him the time to work on his writing combining two of his passions, music and story-telling. The result of many years of work, this book is dedicated to his family, his wife Leanne and children, Ashleigh and Daniel.

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Copyright © 2018 by Michael J. Bruijn.

Library of Congress Control Number:              2018902450

ISBN:                  Hardcover                     978-1-5434-0718-1

                            Softcover                       978-1-5434-0717-4

                            eBook                            978-1-5434-0716-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 05/11/2018

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1     AC/DC

Chapter 2     The Beatles (1)

Chapter 3     The Beatles (2)

Chapter 4     Johnny Cash (1)

Chapter 5     Johnny Cash (2)

Chapter 6     Bob Dylan (1)

Chapter 7     Bob Dylan (2)

Chapter 8     Elvis (1)

Chapter 9     Elvis (2)

Chapter 10   Fleetwood Mac (1)

Chapter 11   Fleetwood Mac (2)

Chapter 12   Genesis

Chapter 13   The Hollies

Chapter 14   INXS

Chapter 15   Michael Jackson

Chapter 16   Kinks

Chapter 17   John Lennon (1)

Chapter 18   John Lennon (2)

Chapter 19   John Mellencamp

Chapter 20   Nirvana

Chapter 21   Roy Orbison

Chapter 22   Pink Floyd

Chapter 23   Queen (1)

Chapter 24   Queen (2)

Chapter 25   Rolling Stones (1)

Chapter 26   Rolling Stones (2)

Chapter 27   Supertramp

Chapter 28   Talking Heads

Chapter 29   U2

Chapter 30   Velvet Underground

Chapter 31   The Who

Chapter 32   The Yardbirds

Chapter 33   ZZ Top

Chapter 34   Elton John (1)

Chapter 35   Elton John (2)

Chapter 36   Paul McCartney (1)

Chapter 37   Paul McCartney (2)

Chapter 38   Billy Joel

Chapter 39   Simon and Garfunkel (1)

Chapter 40   Simon and Garfunkel (2)

Chapter 41   Simon and Garfunkel (3)

Chapter 42   Stevie Wonder (1)

Chapter 43   Stevie Wonder (2)

Chapter 44   Stevie Wonder (3)

Chapter 45   Coldplay

Chapter 46   Chapter Songs

CHAPTER 1

AC/DC

Sitting in my girlfriend Lil’s bedroom, strumming my guitar, I realized how lucky we were. I was playing some bad boy boogie when Lil said Let there be rock and roll on account of the fact she likes rock ’n’ roll more than boogie music.

I reminded her I wasn’t much of a rock ’n’ roll singer but that, to please her, I would have to play a rocker song or two.

‘Come hell or high water, you can’t stop rock ’n’ roll,’ she said as I cranked it up a decibel and played her favourite hard rock song, ‘For Those About to Rock’

I had to admit, the girl’s got rhythm. I was trying to write a love song for her, but so far, most of the lyrics were all screwed up in the bin. My dad, big Jack (on account of his name being Jack, like mine!), bought me the guitar, and he encouraged me. So far, I had plenty of riffs but not so many appropriate words.

Throughout our high school days, I worked damned hard at the ‘Shoot to Thrill Firing Range, where you could go to fire your guns (although they did have some guns for hire). I wanted to take Lil away for a weekend to celebrate getting a nice set of second-hand wheels with the money made. We thought we’d go down to The High Voltage Lounge, New York’s finest house of jazz.

I didn’t expect to have our intentions shot down in flames by her parents later that night

‘Come and get it," Mrs Kite, Lil’s mum, called.

‘Shake a leg! Get it hot or get it not,’ her dad said, chuckling as though it were as funny this time as it was all those other times he used that line.

‘Are you ready for this?’ I asked Lil, taking her by the hand.

‘Try and hold me back,’ she answered, squeezing my hand and leading me to the dinner table.

‘Can I sit next to you, girl?’ I asked Lil as she sat down.

‘If you dare!’ she teased.

I soon realized that hustling Lil’s folks ain’t no fun, and it wasn’t long before I wished I were a fly on the wall. We paid the usual compliments about the meal and were beating round the bush quite nicely. I thought I was about to have a nervous shakedown, so I gave myself a brain shake before managing to turn the conversation to our plans. It soon became obvious, however, that Mr and Mrs Kite were spoilin’ for a fight.

‘What do you do for money, honey?’ Mrs Kite asked.

‘Hells bells! I have a bit saved, Mum, you won’t have to spare a dime!’ Lil argued.

‘We are sorry, guys,’ Mr Kite said, pouring himself a whiskey on the rocks, ‘but letting you go away for a whole weekend is just a touch too much for me. It is not safe in New York City at the best of times, but at this time of the year, it is really quite the no-go zone. You would be on a highway to hell.’

‘It isn’t such a bad place,’ pleaded Lil.

‘Hell ain’t a bad place to be,’ I heard Mrs Kite say softly lifting her voice, she added, ‘You aren’t the problem, child. It’s just that anything goes in that Sin City, and I don’t think you can stand up to the riff–raff, they would walk all over you.’

Once again, it was Mr Kite’s turn. ‘It’s a world of dog eat dog out there. Baby, please don’t go thinkin’ we don’t trust you! It’s just that New York is a place where people get dirty deeds done dirt cheap.’

I tried to maintain a stiff upper lip, but as the meal finished, I thought it might be time to give it up before the folks had a meltdown.

While Lil and I did the dishes, Mr and Mrs Kite went to the living room. I was going to kiss Lil but backed off in the nick of time, just as her parents returned.

Mr Kite started, ‘We will consider letting you go as long as you promise not to go breaking the rules we set down for you, Jackson, Elizabeth.’ Lil hated her full name, and her dad only used it when she was in trouble.

Yes! I thought. We are back in business.

‘Ok, firstly, the smash ’n’ grab city centre is out of bounds. The south side, with its mean streak, is too. There’s too much ruff stuff in both areas.’

Mrs Kite continued the pitch. ‘At the first sign of danger, you run. If you stick around, I know the city lights can get you spellbound. So just be aware always. You can’t stand still for long, or some professional night prowler will rob you blind at the flick of the switch. You never leave each other’s sight, and you call us twice each day.’

‘There’s one last condition: you go for one night and you let us pay for your room at the Thunderstruck Hotel, where we always stay.’

‘Wow,’ I gasped. ‘That’s awesome.’

‘So you agree to do as we ask?’ enquired Mr Kite. Lil and I looked at each other and nodded.

‘Deal!’ I said exuberantly.

‘Ok, let’s make it official,’ teased Mr Kite, holding out his hand.

We shook hands, then I picked up my guitar and said goodnight. As I was leaving. I heard Mrs Kite say, ‘My little girl going to the city without me. What’s next, to the moon?’

Mr Kite then added, ‘Yeah, it doesn’t seem that long ago when she was still afraid of the boogie man!’

Then it would seem that fate had another block for us in this saga—a way of separating me from my little lover. My nan Rita, who had leukaemia, was in back in Blackpool Hospital. She is usually as hard as a rock, but she didn’t react too well to her first blood transfusion, so I was needed to go back to her place in Walker, England to care for her while she recovered.

CHAPTER 2

The Beatles (1)

On the way home, I sent Lil a text to tell her that I loved her. She texted back and said she loved me, too, but that I shouldn’t text and drive. (My car was due to be fitted with hands-free that week) As I turned into my street, Penny Lane, I wanted to tell Mum and Dad my news, but they were already asleep.

At breakfast, I was eager to tell them what had happened the night before. I called out from the doorway, ‘Good morning!’

‘Good morning,’ they answered in unison.

‘I’m so tired,’ I said through a fake yawn, acting nonchalant.

‘OK, how did it go last night?’ Dad finally asked.

‘It was such a hard day’s night, Dad, but they agreed to let us go for a night—as long as they can pay for our room and as long as we follow the rules they have set out for us. For a while, it looked like we were going nowhere. Man, it was tense.’

After I explained it to them, Dad said, ‘Well, any time at all is a bonus, I guess.’

‘I don’t want to spoil the party, but Dad and I have some other news for you,’ Mum said.

When they had finished telling me about Nan, they told me that we could still go to New York—and that the Kites were coming over for lunch.

‘That way I can tell them all about this, boy,’ Dad said.

Soon, I heard voices on the front porch, so I went out there. When I saw her standing there, I thought, Ain’t she sweet!

Before lunch, we all sat in the living room, and Dad started explaining. ‘I am glad that we are all together now cos I have some sad news… Michelle and I wanted to let you know what was happening ASAP. Yesterday, we got a call from my mum, the lovely Rita. She has leukaemia, and she needs some help after her treatment. We have to send Jack home, to England, to be with her so that she has every chance of getting better. We’ve already bought his ticket to ride.’

‘She can’t wait to see how our little child has grown,’ Mum said, turning to me. ‘I want to tell you, Jack, that she loves you heaps, but we know that you can think for yourself.’

And so, Dad said, it should be for no one else to decide what you should do. It won’t be for long, so it’s not that bad, boy.

‘It really is not a hard decision at all. I’ve got to do this for everyone’s sake,’ I said.

‘We are sorry to hear it, Jack, that you have to go so far away, but your mother should know what is best for you, and she’s a woman of heart!’

‘Can we just have some time alone, please?’ I asked, looking at our parents.

‘I should have known better than to think the trip to New York would go according to plan,’ I said to Lil when we were finally alone.

‘Hold me tight,’ she whispered.

‘Lil,’ I said, holding back the tears, ‘I know it’s all too much for you at the moment, but there will never be another girl like you in my life. I love every little thing about you. I thank you, girl, because you gave me something to look forward to every day. Till there was you, I lived without purpose. You gave me a reason to live. Before you know it, I’ll be back, and we will wonder why we ever thought this was going to be hard.’

‘I want to hold your hand forever, Jack. I will miss you like mad, but it won’t be long, really. We can work it out.’

‘Yes, it is going to be hard, but we will be all right. When I get home to Walker, I will write to you every day. You can write to me about what you’re doing. You won’t see me, but I will always be there! Let’s just have a really good night in New York.’

‘At least we have that,’ Lil said, then we kissed before going back to our parents (BEING for the benefit of Mr Kite, really). They left without much more being said.

CHAPTER 3

The Beatles (2)

We had a great time in the city even though time was flying by. We didn’t spend all our money, so we put what we had left in a matchbox and hid it away for when I returned.

At the airport, Lil was very brave and didn’t get too upset.

‘I’ll cry instead,’ I said.

‘Go on then. Cry baby, cry,’ Lil teased.

On the plane, as I dozed off, I remembered my old schoolmates in Walker, and I knew I could get by with a little help from my friends. It made me feel a bit better.

I awoke to a young girl, probably a day tripper too excited to think about others, singing ‘Yellow Submarine’ out of tune. I’m only sleeping, I mused as she started to twist and shout in the aisle. You can’t do that, I thought.

The hostess appeared from nowhere and said, ‘Aah! You are awake. I’ll get you something to eat if you like.’

‘Yes, please,’ I replied.

I slowly ate my roast chicken, vegetables (served in a glass onion bowl) and the savoy truffle, thinking that the savoy truffle and Honey Don’t really mix!

At Nan’s place, I had a piece of her much-missed blackbird and wild honey pie, and I was ready to face the world once more.

Within a couple of weeks, which seemed a long, long, long time, I was in the routine of English days. I played my guitar regularly. I even learnt some more rock and roll music.

Nan had a lot to do with that, saying all the right things.

‘Jack,’ she said one night, ‘do you want to know a secret? I know you’ve had a bad run. For your life to get back on track, though, I think if you’re gonna love that girl, you’ve got to hide your love away and get on with things as best you can.’

It was one of her better moments, as her medicine tended to make her rave on a bit, jumping from one subject to another.

‘With all that you have here and the money your folks have sent for you to live on, baby, you’re a rich man. Make the most of it.’

Yeah, but money can’t buy me love, I thought.

I kept my promise and religiously wrote to Lil, who always replied. My mantra for getting through the first days away from Lil was ‘All you need is love.’ Lil’s letters were filled with words of love and always ended with ‘Love me do.’ I’d write things like ‘I send my love to you’ and ‘I wanna be your man forever.’ I knew that only love strong like ours could survive this time apart; got to send her all my lovin’ no matter where we ended up: here, there, everywhere. I’d write silly things like ‘I love you to the moon and back’, ‘And I love her eight days a week’ and that ‘I’d still love her when I’m sixty four’. I’d always end my letters with ‘With love from me to you’.

I thought I’ll follow the sun to be with her and that I couldn’t let her go again—not a second time!

I really was acting like the fool on the hill, but boys will be boys!

As time went by, Lil’s letters became more like a story of a day in the life of a helter-skelter schoolgirl. They were full of the ‘he said’, ‘she said’, ‘she said’, ‘he said’ gossip I had become used to hearing at school in the US. She had become a bit of a dizzy Miss Lizzy! But I still enjoyed getting those letters.

Some days, after school, I would sit by the letterbox and wishfully think, Please, Mr Postman, don’t pass me by.

I wondered, If I Fell in love with or found someone else, would she think I’m a loser? I tried to act brave by writing that everybody was trying to be my baby. Still, after a few weeks, the letter writing started to slow down.

Nan came home from a chemo session one day as full of beans as I had seen her since I got to Walker.

‘I feel fine today,’ she said. ‘The drugs don’t bother me as much as before. Tell me, why don’t you think about going back to the folks for a couple of days?’

I didn’t want to seem too eager, so I made no reply straightaway. I had thought of staying until the bitter end of Nan’s treatment, but a trip home sounded like a great idea. Thoughts rushed through my mind. If I planned it right, I could get there for Lil’s birthday.

‘Look,’ said Nan, ‘if I had a turn for the worse or if I needed someone to look after me while you were gone, I could just stay in hospital till you get back.’

CHAPTER 4

Johnny Cash (1)

Despite trying to get over the story of a broken heart, I loved being back home in Walker. All in all, being back in England, especially while lying on the green, green grass of home, had eased a cert’in kinda hurtin’. There was someone I still missed, someone I loved, although it was not that bad now that, finally, Dad sent a picture of mother, Lil, and him!

It made me realize that Life Goes On.

I was just a country boy at heart, and I wanted to go to the public school with my old friends. We all disliked the ‘snobs’ institute’, and I could not see myself joining their ranks. Their uniform had stripes of light and dark blue, so we called them the Folsom Prison Blues.

‘Don’t make me go there!’ I pleaded with Nan, who finally relented. After all, the school year had already started. I was enrolled at Clementine Senior School with my friends, luckily, because I just had to walk down the street to 301 Belshazah Road, where I would catch a Rock Island line bus. It would take me over Big River Bridge, on to the wide open road, and up to the school gates. I knew I would feel happier on that bus than on the ‘blue train’ going the other way with the snobby boys. I couldn’t imagine myself waiting for a train with that lot!

I awoke that morning feeling really nervous, as if a boa constrictor had a hold of my throat!

‘You beat all I ever saw," Nan said trying to allay my fears. ‘Give my love to Rose,’ said Nana as I left for my first day of school. ‘And Corrina and Katie too!’

Rosanna, Corrina, and Katherine were my friends at junior high school.

As luck would have it, Rose was already at the bus stop, and Corrina was next in line.

‘Hello, Jackson,’ Rose said. She somehow thought that it was funny—with me being Jack’s son and all!

Corrina then said with a cheeky smile, ‘It’s about time you came back. By the way, Sugar says hello too. I just thought you’d like to know she is still around!’

Sugar was Rose’s mean-eyed cat. It used to