This is one of my favourite fics I've written. It was inspired by the song Merry Go Round, by Peter Tork.
Peter is walking home from the music shop. He passes a vacant lot, and stops when he sees what is there. Sitting behind a high fence, covered in weeds and rundown is an old merry go round. He is mesmerized by it, and can’t resist going to look at it.
The gate is secured by a chain a foot long, and Peter is able to squeeze inside. He creeps towards the merry go round, as if he doesn’t want to disturb it, the memories there. He wants to capture them before they disappear, never to be found again.
Reaching the edge, Peter slowly runs his hand from the nose to the end of the mane of one of the horses attached to the ride. A thick layer of dirt and cobwebs stick to his fingers, and he wipes them on his jeans. He sees a blue wooden horse, with gold reins and silver wisps of hair. The big brown eyes stare up at him, and Peter sees the melancholy of loneliness and neglect.
Putting his hand on the saddle, Peter closes his eyes for a second and is transported back, back to the time when the merry go round was in it’s full glory. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty years ago at the fair.
People are everywhere, walking, talking, laughing. There are a great many rides and side shows around, but nothing gains as much attention as the merry go round.
It stands tall and mighty in the middle of the grounds. Children scramble to get a horse to ride and the parents watch and wave as they go past again and a again. The music can be heard throughout the fair. It is a jolly tune that gets feet tapping and heads nodding. The children sing and laugh and call out to Mum and Dad as they pass “Look at me!”
As the song ends and the ride finishes the children ask for “One more go?” and the parents say “Not now.” So they are dragged away by the hand wanting to get one last glimpse before they go.
Then everyone begins to leave as the day ends. And the merry go round is left standing, all alone in the dark. Suddenly Peter hears a voice calling. He turns around slowly and sees some men with their machines standing at the now open gate.
“What are you doing in here? This is private property.”
Peter answers. “I was just looking.”
“Well, get out of here. We’ve gotta clear this place before tomorrow.”
“What for?”
“Carpark. Now scram!”
Peter does as he is told, not wanting to get into trouble with the muscled man. He leaves slowly at first, looking at the merry go round with sad eyes. As gets further away, a walk turns into a jog, which turns into a run, which turns into a sprint home.
He bursts into the pad, trying to catch his breath and look for a pen and paper at the same time. His three roommates give him identical puzzled looks. Eventually Mike speaks.
“Pete? You alright?”
“Yeah.”
“What’re you lookin’ for?”
“Pen and paper.”
“Oh. What for?”
“Song.”
Instantly Mike understands. He has to get it down before he loses it.
Peter finds what he is looking for and begins to write. The words flow effortlessly onto the paper as does the music.
High, low carnival voice
Words & Music by Peter Tork & Diane Hilderbrand
Screen Gems Columbia Music, BMI
Sings tunes of nobody's choice
And on the vacant lot
Someone just forgot
Standing all alone
Turning on its own
Weary merry go round
Grows slowly into the ground
And faded circus acts
Sorrow broke their backs
And their sadness cries
From their staring eyes
Still small children come
And bring their heart of play
Spirits all alive
To drive the ghosts away
Useless merry go round
Tomorrow they'll tear you down
To build a parking lot
If it lives or not
It was just a toy
All it brought was joy