The Merry Go Round
A man and his thoughts spring to action
The merry-go-round at Marlin Park hadn’t turned in years. The city stopped maintaining it after someone’s dog had gotten its leash tangled in the gears. That was three Summers ago. Since then, the paint had peeled, the horses had developed their own personality, and it was in desperate need of oil.
Mr. Greeley, who walked the park every morning at seven with a bag of sunflower seeds, always paused beside it. He never sat, but just looked at the chipped eyes of the horse closest to the bench.
On Thursday, 12-year-old Maisie discovered that the merry-go-round now spun. Not by much, just a few slow inches if you leaned on it just right. She tested this carefully, first with a stick, then with one foot planted firmly on the grass.
It groaned and turned.
By Saturday, word had spread. Three neighborhood kids brought sandwiches and dared each other to sit on the lion. The lion had one ear and no tail, but it was still solid. When they pushed the platform, it moved half a rotation before grinding to a halt.
Mr. Greeley paused again. He watched them from his bench.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he said.
“Why not?” asked one of the boys.
“It’s temperamental,” he said.
The children stared at him, unsure if that was a threat or a vocabulary quiz.
Maisie climbed onto the dolphin.
“It can’t hurt us, can it?” she asked.
“Not intentionally,” Mr. Greeley said.
She narrowed her eyes and said, “Going in circles isn’t dangerous. We’ll be careful.”
“I know you’ll be careful. Just reminding you of the danger.”
The dolphin gave a wobble.
By Monday, someone had painted the horses’ eyes white. No pupils, just plain white. The town council hadn’t approved it. No one knew who did it, though Mr. Greeley was seen carrying a paint can that morning. He claimed it was for his porch.
By the end of the week, the merry-go-round had started turning on its own in the evenings. Slowly. Steadily. As if it had remembered why it existed.
Maisie stood beside it just before sunset and looked at Mr. Greeley.
“It still works,” she said.
He folded his newspaper.
“It always worked. Just needed someone to coax it along.”
She stepped up, chose the lion, and sat. The merry-go-round began to move, so slowly she wasn’t sure it had started at all.
Mr. Greeley tipped his cap and stood.
“Well,” he said. “Keep your elbows in. Less drag. You can go faster.”
She smiled. The lion creaked.
By the time the sun dropped below the trees, the merry-go-round platform had made a full turn.
Maisie blinked.
The park looked exactly the same.
But the dolphin now had its tail back.
Later that week the town council sent a maintenance crew to oil the ride.
Someone was sure to skin a knee or break a bone now that it could turn freely, as the machine had undoubtedly done many times over the years.
Mr. Greeley had warned them but was glad for the newfound freedom the merry-go-round had. After all, what use is an unused and stationary ride?