"'ey, Mike," Davy Jones said from the backseat, "the car isn't supposed to act like this, is it?"
"Of course not," Mike Nesmith replied in his Texas drawl. "Something's wrong!"
The car bumped along for half a block more, then suddenly stopped at the edge of what seemed to be a parking lot.
"Oh, great," Mike muttered.
Peter Tork looked at their new surroundings. "Where are we?" he asked.
"Somewhere off I-17, I think," Micky Dolenz said thoughtfully.
Mike got out and looked under the car's hood. "Oh, man," he said. "We won't be going anywhere anytime soon if we don't call a tow truck!"
"I wonder if there's a pay phone over in that amusement park," Davy mused.
"Huh? What amusement park?" Mike asked.
"That amusement park," Davy replied, pointing to lots of glowing lights just beyond the parking lot.
"Well, it's worth a try," Mike sighed. "C'mon, fellas, let's hurry."
The Monkees walked up to the front gate. "Fantasy Way Amusement Park" was written on a sign hanging over the gate.
"Hello, ticket taker?" Mike called, rapping on the ticket booth window. "Hmm, that's weird," he said a moment later.
"What?" The other Monkees crowded around to see.
"The booth looks like it hasn't been occupied in years! Decades!" Mike exclaimed.
"Holy smokes, Mike, you're right!" Micky said.
The booth was covered in cobwebs. An old desk was loosing its varnish and one of the legs had nearly rotted away. A chair that had seen better days was in front of the desk, with three of its four wheels missing.
"Man, that's really weird," Davy said, shaking his head.
"Maybe we've wandered into some kinda deserted place," Peter suggested.
"Then why is it all lit up?" Mike asked, gesturing at all the bright lights.
"Well, if there's no ticket taker, I guess we can't pay an entrance fee," Micky said lightly, walking through the front gate. The other Monkees looked at each other, shrugged, and followed their drummer friend.
The Monkees had just finished doing a gig in Los Angeles and were heading back to their Malibu beachhouse. The Monkeemobile, the group's flashy, red Pontiac, sputtered and started to bump along the road.
"Don't you think it's a little strange that we haven't seen a single person in here?" Peter spoke up.
"It's more than weird, Pete." Mike shook his head.
"Maybe everyone's inside the buildings," Micky suggested, eyeing the Fun House.
"Maybe so," Mike agreed. "But it's still weird that absolutely no one would be outside on the Midway. Or on the rides," he added.
"Hey, has anyone seen Davy recently?" Micky said suddenly.
Mike and Peter looked at each other, then back at Micky. "Actually, I don't believe we have," Peter said. "Oh, great!" Mike sighed. "Where is he? With some girl, I suppose."
"But, Mike, there's not any girls here," Peter protested.
"It looks that way, but I'm sure Davy could find a girl here," Mike replied.
"Well, now what're we gonna do?" Micky asked.
"Look for him and a pay phone," Mike said. "We'll start in the Fun House, since it's right here."
Mike adjusted his wool hat. "Maybe we really are ten feet tall and five feet wide, only we just can't see it," he remarked. Micky snickered.
Peter turned away from the mirror, wide-eyed. "You think so, Mike?"
"Naw, I was just kidding," Mike replied. "C'mon, let's go on our way."
As they walked out of the Hall of Mirrors, it suddenly dawned on Peter that Mike didn't seem to be there.
"Micky? Have you seen Mike?" Peter asked.
"Mike? He's right here! Aren't you, Mike?" Silence. "Mike?" Micky and Peter whirled around. Nothing.
"Oh no! Now Mike's gone!" Peter gasped.
"Hold on, let's try to stay calm," Micky said, though he was trying hard not to start screaming himself. "Back to the Hall of Mirrors!"
The two Monkees ran back to the room. "I don't see him!" Peter said.
"That's because he's not here," a weird voice intoned.
"What's that?" Micky and Peter screamed simultaneously.
"Never mind, my musician friends. Welcome to Fantasy Way's Fun House. I hope you enjoy your stay!" A burst of odd laughter. "Oh, and don't worry about your friends. They're being looked after." More laughter.
"This place is really starting to spook me, Micky!" Peter exclaimed.
"I know what you mean," Micky agreed grimly. "This place is weird. I bet that voice belongs to the ghost we encountered the other night in that haunted house!" he exclaimed. "What have you done with Mike and Davy?" Micky yelled at the weird voice.
"Now, now, let's not be hasty. You will find them . . . perhaps. I will be seeing you two soon! Ta-ta!"
Peter was about to open his mouth to call to the voice again when Micky sighed and said, "Don't waste your breath, Pete. I think whoever or whatever it was is gone now."
"I hope we don't hear it again!" Peter gasped.
"Don't bet on it," Micky muttered.
"If that doesn't stop right now . . ." he said, raising a fist.
The laughter ceased . . . briefly. As soon as they wandered into another room, it started up again abruptly, scaring them both out of their wits. And this time it sounded very close.
"Okay, that's it!" Micky yelled, marching behind the partition where the voice seemed especially loud.
"Micky, I don't think you should do this," Peter protested.
"Look, mister, just stop it!" Micky screamed at the weird voice. The high-strung drummer was really angry now. "Stop bugging us! We're not here to cause trouble—we just came to use a telephone! And what do you do? Kidnap two of our buddies and scare us half to death with your crazy laughter! Well, you know what, buster? I've had it!! You hear me? I'VE HAD IT! Just go find someone else to haunt, okay? STOP BOTHERING US!!! Go back to your haunted house and leave us and this amusement park alone! What do you havta say about all this, huh?" Silence. "Well?"
Peter, out in the main part of the room, suddenly heard a sound like someone had been punched, followed by a loud "YEOW!" Micky came flying out backwards from behind the partition. He hit his head on the hard wall, slumped to the floor, and was still.
In an instant, Peter was at his friend's side. "Micky!" Peter gasped. "Oh, I knew you shouldn't have yelled at that . . . that ghost or whatever it was!" Micky didn't respond. "Micky? Mick? Please say you're alright!" Peter's voice started to rise in panic. "Micky, why don't you say something? Micky, answer me!" Not getting any reply, Peter slowly sank to the floor and wondered what to do now.
"Man, where am I?" he muttered. "Where's Micky and Pete? And Davy? Am I still in the amusement park?" He looked around the halls, totally confused.
Suddenly he heard a familiar British voice down the hall. "Davy!" Mike realized, heading over to the door and peering in, started in surprise.
Davy was talking to a beautiful young girl in a Cleopatra costume. Mike recognized the famous "stars-in-Davy's-eyes." "Davy!" he exclaimed. "Where have you been??"
"Oh, hi, Mike," Davy said, surprised. "Where did you go?"
"Where did I go? Where did you go?" Mike demanded.
"I saw Miranda here and followed her to ask her out," Davy replied, while the girl stood and smiled. "I thought you and Micky and Peter were right behind me!"
"Oh man!" Mike groaned, throwing his hands up in the air.
Just then someone called Miranda.
"Oh, I've got to go," she exclaimed. "Davy, are you still going to be able to help out?"
"Of course," Davy said dreamily.
"Great! I'll see you." Miranda rushed onto a nearby stage, where she was being introduced as Miranda the Master Illusionist.
"Davy, would you mind explaining what's going on here?" Mike asked, folding his arms.
"Miranda just asked if I could help out with one of the magic tricks in her show," Davy replied.
"Davy!" Mike said, appalled.
"Well, I didn't think it'd hurt," Davy protested.
"Of all the . . . Davy, we have to find Micky and Peter and get out of here! We still have to find a phone!"
"I asked Miranda about the phone, Mike, and she said she'd make sure we got to use one after the show was over," Davy replied.
"And now, for the next trick," Miranda was saying, "we have a volunteer assistant. Davy Jones!"
"Oh, sorry, Mike, gotta go." Davy headed for the stage, then reached down and picked something up.
"What's that?" Mike asked.
"Miranda's hair ribbon," Davy replied. "She must've dropped it. I'll have to give it to her after the show." Davy rushed onstage. Unsure of what to do, Mike followed.
"Ah, we have two volunteers!" Miranda looked surprised but quickly recovered. "Now," she said, "this is a disappearing trick. So if you two will kindly step into this trunk over here . . ." She gestured at a very large trunk.
"Now, wait a minute, I . . ." Mike started to protest as he was herded into the trunk along with Davy. The lid slammed down. "The things that we get into!" the Texan muttered.
"Now, when Miranda says the magic words, we come back up into the main part of the trunk," Davy replied.
"Oh, great," Mike sighed.
Miranda chanted some words, then said, "And now, I will lift the lid. You will see that the two boys have returned!"
Before either Mike or Davy could make a move to get back into the top of the trunk, they both suddenly fell through the floor and lay, dazed, below the stage.
Finally Davy spoke. "Mike, what 'appened?"
"The trunk broke, and so did the stage, apparently," Mike replied. They could hear Miranda calling for them.
"Miranda, we're down here!" Davy yelled.
"She's never going to hear you," Mike said. He glanced around. "It sure is dark down here. Wonder how you get out?" He walked over to the wall and started pounding on it, hoping to find a door. Instead, he was abruptly thrown backwards and vanished!
"Mike!" Davy gasped, running over to the same wall. Instead of disappearing, he fell right through!
Suddenly, without warning, a section of the wall caved in, and someone was thrown into the room. Peter jumped up, surprised. "Davy?"
The short British Monkee looked up from the pile of plaster and wood. "Peter? What's going on?"
Before Peter could answer, a section of the floor popped up and Mike peered out. "Hey, what's up?" he asked.
"Mike!" Peter and Davy exclaimed. "What 'appened to you?" the latter asked.
"I dunno. Fell through another floor," Mike replied. "I found a ladder that led to this trapdoor and opened it. What about you, Davy?"
Davy related his tale.
"Hey, Pete, where's Micky?" Mike asked.
"He's over here," Peter replied, the tone of worry again rising in his voice.
"What happened to him?" Mike demanded.
"Yeah, 'e doesn't look so good," Davy said. "'e looks like he was in a fight and lost."
"He was," Peter said. "He was yelling at this ghost or something that kept laughing and spooking us!" After wringing his hands, he added, "I think he probably hit his head."
While Mike went over to examine Micky, Davy glanced out the door. "'ey, I think there's a telephone out there in the hall," he commented excitedly.
"There wasn't one when Micky and I were out there," Peter replied.
Davy went over to the door to get a better look. "There is a telephone!"
Mike looked up. "Really? Great! Now maybe we can finally get out of here!" He turned to Peter. "I think Micky is okay, except for that knockout punch or whatever it was he got." He headed for the hall. "Bring Mick out here, Pete. I'll place the call for the tow truck."
Mike put his hand over the receiver and turned to Davy and Peter with a look of disgust. "He says there's no Fantasy Way Amusement Park!"
"That's ridiculous!" Davy exclaimed.
"I know," Mike sighed. He put the receiver back up to his ear. "What's that you say? . . . There was a Fantasy Way Amusement Park in the early 1940s, but it's gone now? That's crazy! I'm telling you, mister, we're in the Fun House right now! There is an amusement park here, and it's definitely called Fantasy Way!"
"Pete?" a small voice suddenly spoke up.
"Micky?" Peter asked hopefully. "Are you awake?"
The drummer raised a hand to rub his head. He gave Peter a puzzled look. "Yeah . . . What in the world happened? Where are we?"
Peter glanced at Mike, who was still arguing with the guy on the phone, and Davy, who was watching Mike. "We're in the Fantasy Way Amusement Park, Micky," Peter replied.
"Fantasy Way Amusement Park?" Micky said vaguely.
Peter gave Micky a worried look. "Maybe you'd better rest a few minutes, Micky. You got a pretty bad knock on the head."
"Look, mister, will you just please send a tow truck out here?" Mike pleaded into the phone. ". . .You will? Oh, thank you! . . . Walk up to the road? . . . Okay, we'll be there. Yes . . . Yes . . . Goodbye." Mike hung up and turned to the others. "Well, the man will come get us and the car if we walk up to the road. . . . Micky! Are you okay?"
Micky grinned ruefully. "Yeah, I am now."
"What 'appened to you?" Davy asked.
"That ghost was bugging me, so I yelled at it, and it punched me," Micky replied simply. "I also got my head conked on the wall."
Mike sighed. "Yeah, that could do it. Well, we'd better get out of here."
"I can't leave without saying goodbye to Miranda and getting her phone number!" Davy protested.
Micky snickered. Mike threw up his hands. "Whatever. But we'll have to hurry. The man said he would be here in thirty minutes, and we still have to walk up to the road."
The others took a look. "Not only is it deserted, but it looks like it's been that way for years!" Peter exclaimed.
"Decades!" Micky chimed in.
"Now that is too weird," Mike commented. "A perfect addition to a totally warped evening!" He sighed. "Well, Davy, I'm sorry, but we can't hang around any longer. We have to get going."
Davy looked down at the floor. "Yeah, I suppose you're right," he said sadly. "I'll write Miranda a goodbye note," he decided, quickly scribbling something on a Post-It note and sticking it on the wall. "I hope I'll see you again, Miranda," he said softly, then turned and followed the others down the hall.
The other Monkees whirled around. "What is it?" Mike asked, then saw. The amusement park was totally gone. A huge field stretched out where the place had been just a few moments before.
"It's gone!" they all exclaimed.
"It's impossible!" Micky cried.
"But it 'appened," Davy said in a whisper. He was totally bowled over.
"Too weird," Peter said.
After staring at the field for several more minutes, they finally turned and headed for the road.
"I told you boys that there was nothing but field out here," the man said.
"Yeah, well, there was an amusement park a little while ago," Mike insisted. "And hey, consider this—if there was no amusement park, how in the world did we call you on the telephone?"
"Yeah," the other Monkees echoed.
The man—his nametag read Henry—considered this. Finally he said, "Well, actually, boys, there have been other people in the past who've claimed to have seen the Fantasy Way amusement park."
"Henry, what is the story behind the place?" Davy asked.
"Well," Henry began, "Fantasy Way was a popular amusement park in the early 1940s. Everyone who was in the Los Angeles area made sure they went there. But then, around 1942, there was a big cyclone that came through here . . ."
"Cyclone?" Micky interrupted incredulously.
"In Los Angeles?" Peter added.
Henry shrugged. "It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. And, let me tell you, it was big. It came right through this area, and tore up the whole amusement park. Many years later, a couple of scuba-divers found some pieces from the rides in the bay just off Los Angeles."
"Let me get this straight," Mike said. "A cyclone came through here and totally destroyed the place?"
"That's right, sonny," Henry said.
The Monkees looked at each other. "Bizarre!" they gasped.
"Hey, Mr. Babbit!" Mike called out a greeting.
"What brings you 'ere at this time of night?" Davy asked.
"Boys! Where in the world have you been?" Babbit demanded in an highly upset tone. Despite his tough exterior, Babbit had actually been concerned about the Monkees' welfare.
"Well, um . . ." Mike wasn't sure how to answer the question.
"We were visiting the haunted Fantasy Way amusement park just off I-17," Micky spoke up.
Babbit looked startled. "Hey, Dolenz, what happened to you?" he asked suddenly, noticing the red mark on Micky's cheek.
Micky grinned ruefully. "A ghost gave me a knockout punch."
Babbit folded his arms. "Sounds like you met up with the Magnificent Merlin."
"Who?" Micky asked, totally baffled.
"Well, you boys say you visited Fantasy Way," Babbit began. "That place is gone."
"So we heard," Mike said. "But we saw it, and were actually in it!"
Babbit chuckled. It was the first time the Monkees had ever heard him laugh. "I wondered if you boys would ever have an encounter with Fantasy Way. It seems to appear mysteriously every now and then, and then disappears again. The place was demolished in the early 1940s, you know."
Peter nodded. "Yeah. We heard about that."
"I used to go there as a kid," Babbit said. "Well, anyway, when the place was running, there was this magician called the Magnificent Merlin," he continued. "He was a very short-tempered man. It seemed that everyone made him mad. And when someone upset him, he usually gave them a hard punch . . . just like he gave you tonight, Dolenz," he added. "And usually, he gave him such a wallop that they would often fly across the room and hit the wall. I saw that happen to more than one poor man who'd got Merlin's temper flared up!"
Micky touched the bump on his head and winced.
"Well, anyway, Merlin was involved in some kind of shady business. Some kind of illegal smuggling, I believe," Babbit went on. "His assistant found out about it. She managed to report it to the police, but before anything could be investigated, Merlin abducted his assistant and held her hostage backstage at the Fun House. That was the same day that the cyclone hit. Merlin and his assistant were never seen again." Babbit paused. "They probably perished in the disaster. No one could have lived through that."
The Monkees looked at each other. Without a doubt, this was the strangest experience they'd ever been through!
Davy looked especially strange. Finally he said to Babbit, "This assistant. Do you know any more about her, Mr. Babbit?"
"Well, I remember when my dad took me to see one of Merlin's magic shows. I thought Merlin was real stuck-up, but his assistant was real nice. She greeted us and gave me a lollipop," Babbit reminisced. "She always wanted to become an illusionist. She didn't like being Merlin's assistant, especially after she found out about the kind of stuff he was involved in."
"So, Mr. Babbit," Mike said, "you don't think we're totally nuts for claiming to have been in an amusement park that doesn't exist anymore?"
Babbit shook his head. "No, boys, I don't. In fact, I remember one time, a few years back, when I was driving down I-17 and I saw Fantasy Way. I was sure I was seeing things. When I looked again, it was gone."
Davy was very silent. Finally he said, "Mr. Babbit, what was the name of the assistant?"
Babbit paused. "Let's see . . . What was it? . . . Marianne, Melinda, Miranda . . . That was it! Miranda!"
Davy looked pale. He slowly nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Babbit." He walked up the porch steps and went inside.
He plopped down on the couch to think this over. Suddenly he remembered that he had one of Miranda's hair ribbons in his pocket. He reached in to get it. Instead he found a piece of paper.
"What the . . .?" he muttered, confused. Slowly he opened it, then gasped.
Dear Davy,
Thank you for being my friend. Those few minutes we spent together were the happiest minutes I've spent in a long time!
We will meet again someday!
"Thank you," Davy said quietly. "Thank you, Miranda."
The other Monkees came in then. "Hey, Davy, are you okay?" Peter asked.
Davy looked up, startled, then managed a smile. "Yeah, Peter, I'm fine now." Suddenly he grinned widely. "Imagine . . .!"
"Imagine what?" Mike asked.
"Well, over the years, I've fallen in love with so many girls," Davy stated. "And this time, I fell in love with a ghost!"
He started laughing. The others looked at him, then at each other, and also burst into laughter.
