Fancy Pants was forced to pull the monocle out of his eye to be placed on the white cloth of the table. Across from him at lunchtime was Ocellus, now free from school and enjoying the summer. A moment ago, she told him something that needed some time to register. Rubbing his face, he asked politely, “Perhaps my ears didn’t hear that properly, so would you repeat that again?”
“I want to finish singing in August.”
Yep, he did hear that right. Dewing in a deep breath, he put his monocle back on. “Please forgive me, Ms. Ocellus,” he began, “this is the first time I’ve ever come across someone who, just at the start of their career, becomes a smashing hit – suddenly decides to stop.” He drew in another breath. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head, dipping her spoon into her soup. “No. I just figured that it’s almost time.”
“Young lady, I’m still trying to comprehend this decision. I mean, last week you released a soundtrack that has become the single best recording of all time. You and your group have earned more fame and money than you know what to do with. And those songs have become the most demanded in radio history. But now I hear that you want to stop?”
“Well, not yet,” Ocellus clarified. “I figured that I work with Pull and Dawn over the summer for one last concert and then I’ll step down for good.”
“Okay but… why?”
Putting her spoon down, the young Changeling looked at Fancy Pants. “Sir, I’m not stepping down because something was wrong. I’m doing it because I’m near the end of what I tried to do months ago. And that is to get the music of Pull, Dawn, and Hayson out there. Fame and fortune were never the goals for me to begin with. After this concert, where we’ll be putting out the best of the best, then I feel that my job is over. You can turn to Dawn or Pull for songs at that point.”
“So, you want to step down because you have a sense when to finish?”
She nodded.
“Ocellus, you must think this over.” Fancy pleaded. “From the way I see it, you’re just starting out. You and your songwriters have cranked out masterpiece after masterpiece. Not to mention that you help revolutionized music from your nonsense play. My radio station has been playing your group’s work for weeks nonstop due to the endless streams of requests. Ponies and creatures from every class and background have found something to unite around. Those who hate any influences with pop or classical have found those songs a breath of fresh air. If you just stop… everyone will be shocked how you didn’t make more.”
“I would rather stop when all of this is beloved than to go on to the point where it’s hated. Besides, I’m a student for crying out loud. While being a music star is fun, I want to get off the ride before it becomes too late to do so.” She smiled gently. “Besides, if I’m going to go out, I’m going to do so with a bang. Trust me, for the next several months, we will come up with the greatest songs you’ll ever hear.”
“So, I suppose there’s no way to change your mind on this?” She shook her head. “It’s… disappointing, but I won’t stop you.”
No one else could believe Ocellus’s decision.
At first, fans thought that this was a joke. She was stepping down as a musician by the end of the summer? The Beatle was going to stop singing by August? Many thought that this piece of news couldn’t be real.
However, after the other songwriters confirmed that this was true, that was when Ocellus received a mountain range of fan letters. Each one pleading for not to stop. There were petitions, protests, even a few night vigils in Ponyville trying to convince the young Changeling to keep going. Not only her fans, but her friends and even the original Beatles were surprised by her decision for ending so quickly.
All except, that was, for Pull McCart who went silent on the subject.
In the meantime, although the School of Friendship was closed for the summer, Ocellus had to ask Twilight’s permission to use the Gym to craft and record songs in. There were a few reasons why that particular room. Firstly, because it was big enough to house a whole orchestra when the time comes to it. Secondly, the acoustics there were perfect to give it that classical concert hall like quality. And third, the school provided Ocellus a place to stay over the summer as she and the older stallions to make and perfect their songs in time.
From nine in the morning until five in the evening, Ocellus would wait for Pull, Dawn, and Mango to come in – and from there, the four of them would start improvising until Ocellus picked up something familiar. Yet, with the piano in the room, the young Changeling got the idea to have Octavia to teach them the basics of how to play the piano. This helped tremendously with their experimentation.
For example, one June morning when they walked into the Gym, they heard Octavia warming up by playing Beethooven’s Moonlight Sonata. In particular, the first slow movement. As they entered, Dawn stopped and heard the melodic notes being played.
“That’s Beethooven’s stuff, isn’t it?” He asked walking up to the standup piano. When told that it was, he then asked, “Just out of curiosity, would you mind playing it backwards?”
Octavia blinked. “Beg your pardon?”
“Just do that opening again, only in reverse. Can you do that?”
She looked at the sheet music that she had at the time, took a moment to see which bar had the opening of the melody before doing as requested.
Upon hearing that, Ocellus exclaimed as if she remembered something important that she forgot, “Oh! That’s Because!” When the other Beatles inquired what she was talking about, she tried to sing out the fragmented melody out to them. From there, they would recreate the song.
On other days, they would have sections of the orchestra that assisted them in writing some of the songs. From a quartet of strings, they wrote Eleanor Rigby. From bassoons and clarinets that were feeling jazzy, they came up with When I’m Sixty-Four. But even when they just had the piano to band out notes from, they gave birth to The Long and Winding Road, All You Need is Love, and Penny Lane.
Yet, Ocellus knew that given the date she set, there was only so much time she has left to bring back as many masterpieces as she could.
In mid-June, Ocellus asked Dawn to come alone because she had a surprise for him. That morning he came into the gym where the young Changeling sat on something that had a white sheet. “How are you today?” She asked.
“I’m curious what this surprise is.” He looked around, “Is anyone else going to be here today?”
“Just us. If anything, I was hoping to talk to you and Pull individually.”
“What? You got him a present too?”
“Kinda, but come here, I want to give you a gift.” The old stallion walked up to her, and she pulled the sheet off to reveal a shiny grand piano painted white. “Ta-da! Do you like it?”
“You got me a piano?” He asked, running his hoof over the lid and the keys.
“Uh-huh. I figured that you and Pull have gotten better with the piano then I have, I figured that I reached into my pocket to get you this. Do you like it?”
Although she can sense from Dawn how much he was impressed with his gift, she can also sense confusion from him. “Yes but, why did you get me this?”
“Well, to be honest, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?”
Ocellus sat down on the lid of the white piano. “You see, lately I’m beginning to sense that you’re growing tired of this. Working with me, Pull, Mango, and Octavia. That you’re getting to the point where you maybe don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Now hold o-”
“Let me finish, please?” Ocellus holds a hoof. “And the thing is… You’re right. I am trying to push everyone to get this done before August and, for good reason. Not just because I’m going to step down, but lately I don’t think I’ve sat any of you down to explain why I’m doing this.”
Dawn raised an eyebrow but sat down in front of the keyboard. “I’m listening.”
“Yes, I’m trying to polish and perfect everything before I go. But at the same time, I’m trying to show the world of what you and Pull together, as well as individually could do. I know that I’m the only one that’s keeping this together, but when I go, I want to show that you guys can do so much on your own hooves too. I’m not asking you to bring your old band back together, but to leave you with the knowledge of what skills you have. If that makes sense.”
“Is that so?” He asked and she nodded. “So, what do you think that I can do?”
“Well… For one, I think you can be a great advocate for all that’s good in the world. That you can try to be a spokespony for peace, love, creativity through art. Not just in your paintings, sculpture, or drawings – but perhaps through song too. To sell peace like a product in saying hey, give this a chance. And if you feel confident enough in your skills as a songwriter, then show yourself of what you can do.”
As she was talking, she can sense in him a great shame that made him look down at the keyboard and asked him what was wrong. “Ocellus… You have such an innocent mind about you. That you look at me and see this nice-looking stallion that would be somepony’s grandfather. But if you knew me from what I was… I don’t think you would say things about me.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Did you know that I was married once a long time ago?” Ocellus shook her head. “Even Pull didn’t know this. But then, I used to be cruel to my wife. I beat her and kept her apart from the things that she loved. That was me.” He nodded, “I used to be easily jealous and cruel to my mare and physically, any mare back then… I was a hitter. I couldn’t express myself back then and I hit. I fought stallions and I hit mares.” He shook his head. “That’s why I’m on about peace now, you see. I figured that it’s the most violent of ponies who go for peace and love. Cause everything’s the opposite, you see.” Looking back up to a quiet Ocellus, he added, “But I sincerely believe in love and peace. The way I see it, I’ll have to be a lot older than now before I could face in public how I treated mares as a youngster.
“And now I think of it… I haven’t seen my son in years since the divorce.”
Ocellus blinked. “You have a son? How come you didn't tell us that?”
“Simply because we haven’t seen each other in… oh, decades.” The gym went uncomfortably quiet for a moment. And before Ocellus could ask, Dawn answered, “So before you say anything – no, I did not beat him. Looking back… I did something far worst. For most of his life, I ignored him. If he still hates me now, I wouldn’t blame him for it. I was cold in those days, back when I didn’t know how to express myself constructively and was so sucked into my own problems that I blocked out everyone else’s – including Jude. I don’t know if he’s still around, but if he is…” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t blame him for not believing that I have changed. I wouldn’t in his horseshoes.”
“But you’re not evil.” Ocellus said. “And trust me, my Hive grew up with Queen Crysalis. Someone who could not be redeemed. But you…? I can sense that there’s a part of you that sees himself as a monster, but I don’t see that. Do you know who I see now?” Dawn shook his head. “I see a stallion who, although quite old, is trying to be good. A talented one that is trying to find a way to leave this world a better place than when he found it.” Buzzing over to sit next to him, she added. “Your story may not have a happy beginning. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t do what you can to give this story a happy ending.
“Sure, you may have been cruel back then, but look at you now. You’re a changed stallion with a changed heart. That’s something that I think is more powerful than you realize. Going from a bully to become a symbol of positive change.”
“But… Do you think anyone out there would see that?”
“You know at first hoof that anger gets you nowhere.” She replied, “Perhaps… It’s time to give peace a chance or something.”
Dawn, for a long, long moment didn’t say anything. Sitting on that piano stool, reflecting. Finally, he spoke up. “What was it you said?”
“Huh?”
“The night that we first met, you said you had a unique memory of me. And a song that I apparently wrote but don’t remember doing it. How did that go again?”
“Wait! Before you do anything,” Ocellus quickly got up to press a few buttons to record this moment before returning to her seat. “Okay… I don’t fully remember how the melody or the lyrics go, so you’ll have to help me with this.” Dawn asked what fragments she remembers. “All I know was that it was called… Imagine.”
By July, Ocellus and Pull worked later into the day to wrestle with the sound of A Day in the Life when the old stallion did something unexpected.
On that day, they debated and experimented with the orchestra in trying to get the right sound of the final note. But after frustrating several hours on both sides, Pull stood up. “Alright… We need to stop and rest. For now, let’s call it a day and maybe we could figure something out by then.”
With a relived orchestra clearing out of the school Gym, he noticed Ocellus hunched over on a piano stool with her hooves covering her face. “I’m so sorry that this isn’t going anywhere,” she apologized, “I had the sound in my head, and I can’t see why it’s so hard to get it out there.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. We just haven’t figured it out yet. Now we’d just got to keep on trying and hopefully, we’ll find what we’re looking for.”
“I can’t believe that you’ve been this patient.” She remarked. “I’m barely holding myself together in trying to get them to get these songs just right.”
“Well you don’t expect good music overnight, do you? Oh! That reminds me,” making sure that the last member of the orchestra was out of the room, he went over to pick up a guitar. “Since you’re here, I was hoping that I could show you a new song I came up with.”
Ocellus raised an eyebrow, “A new song?”
“Yes, one that I came up with all by myself.”
Now, this caught her attention. Up until then, they were creating songs together as a group. Yet, even with the months of lessons and improvising, this was the first time that she was aware that Pull was writing his own songs without anyone knowing about it.
“What’s it called?” She inquired.
“I call it, Lads of Trottingham.”
Ocellus was stunned but didn’t try to show it. As far as she was aware, this wasn’t a Beatle song she knew of. Nor of any song that she vaguely recalled McCart wrote. Was this something new?
Pull began playing a tune that was melancholic and almost slow. Then he opened his mouth and sang lyrics that Ocellus was sure she had never heard before.
“In the day, there were four of us,
“Young, bold, oh how we made a fuss.
“How we came this young new band
“Have you heard of the lads of Trottingham?
“Mares screamed when we came by,
“Cynics and bigots wanted us to die.
“But through all and all we decide
“A better world we would abide.
“We sing of Sgt. Pepper and Elanor Rigby
“Strawberry Fields and more than we dream.
“From Hey Jude to Let it Be,
“What more than any could see!
“How we came this young new band
“Have you heard of the lads of Trottingham?
“One day we parted ways
“Because of Dawn and Yoko they says.
“We may split up the band
“Yet, our music it still stands
“When a girl named Ocellus
“Reminded what so special about us.
“How we came this young new band
“Have you heard of the lads of Trottingham?
“How we came this young new band
“Have you heard of the lads of Trottingham?”
When he finished playing his song, he looked over to the Changeling, her jaw hanging freely. “So?” He asked, “What do you think? Pretty good?”
“…”
“Ocellus?”
“You… You knew!” The young Changeling shouted, her voice echoing through the gym and the empty school. “Good Goddesses! This whole time, you knew!”
“Um…” The old stallion grinned nervously. “Surprise?”
“Pull!” Ocellus grabbed him by the shoulders, “Why didn’t you tell me!? From the moment I met you – you knew!”
Pull grabbed her back. “Ocellus, before you get angry with me – and trust me, you have every right to be so-”
“You think!”
“Could I at least explain what’s really going on? I promise my intention wasn’t to hurt you, just give me some time to explain myself.”
Ocellus gently shoved him, and although fuming in silence, she can sense from Pull that there wasn’t a malicious intent from his end. After a good five or so minutes to calm down, she turned to him. “What is going on?”
“Right,” he sighed, “I suppose that even after I explain myself, you’ll still be angry with me. Tell me, have you found it a little odd that we are the only two beings in the whole wide world who knew what the Beatles were and what our songs were? The truth is… this is my fault.”
“How?”
He shook his head. “I think you should really be asking why. Because that reason has much to do with our current circumstances.”
Ocellus took in a very deep breath. “Okay… why?”
Pull sat down, and with a solemn look on his face, he looked up at the fuming Changeling. “I wanted Dawn back.” He watched the anger in Ocellus’s expression fade. “When we started the band, we did so as the best of friends. After we broke up, we were so angry at each other that we couldn’t stand to be in the same room without exploding. But as much as we apologized, we still didn’t see each other. And then, when I got the news that Dawn was murdered…” Pull fell silent, sniffing, and trying to hold back the tears. “I couldn’t forgive myself. My wife held me back from doing something very drastic but… Every day I thought that may be… what if I did something to prevent it. Sure, I was angry but I didn’t want him dead.
“Then one day… I came across something. A recipe to make a wish come true that required being submerged in a substance. However, for it to work, I had to come to a place outside of Ponyville where it required a specific type of earth. After mixing it all together that morning, I made a wish. That I went back in time to break up the Beatles before we became famous – and jumped right in.”
“The quicksand…” Ocellus murmured. “I… I saw some glowing mud or whatever, and I got stuck in it to where my whole head was buried in.”
“But you didn’t fall all the way in, didn’t you?” Ocellus shook her head. “Maybe that explains it. If you had fallen in completely, you would have ended up in Trottingham with me. But, (and this is a guess) since you dipped your head in and was pulled out, you were excepted out of my wish to have the whole world forget about us.”
“I don’t understand,” Ocellus said, “why would you, Pull McCart of all ponies, try to go back in time and disband The Beatles before you became popular?”
“To save Dawn. Look, if we were never popular, his killer wouldn’t have a reason to murder him. Besides, I don’t know if you knew this, but when we broke up in the seventies, our friendship had disintegrated. I had thought that if we broke earlier, then maybe our friendship would have lasted longer. But… I couldn’t predict what it actually did to us. I may have sabotaged the band, yet, by doing so, it drove all of us further apart. That was until you came along.”
“But that still doesn’t answer my question, how come you didn’t tell me about this?”
“For starters, I honestly thought for decades that I was the only one in the world who knew what the Beatles were. I mean, when I told you that I forgot how to play the guitar, that was no lie. Since I didn’t see a reason to play music, I slowly forgot how to play – let along the songs we created. So, imagine my surprise to hear you play some of them. Just when I thought I made a huge, impossible to reverse mistake, suddenly I hear you playing those songs for a school dance.
“However, as to why until now I haven’t said anything… I didn’t want to mess again. You did things that I thought were impossible. You technically brought the band together in away. You helped me overcome my insecurities to tell Dawn that I was sorry. And seeing you having fun in lending a hoof to remind me and inspire Dawn of these songs… If I at any moment stepped up and took over, I know it would have devastated you.”
Ocellus’s ears folded back. “But… I did do that. I’ve stolen your destiny. Not just yours, but Dawn’s, and Hayson’s, and even Mango’s!”
“No.” He put a hoof on her shoulder. “If it were up to anyone else, they would have stolen the songs and take all the credit. And yet, you never sought fame or money or any of that. Since day one you reminded the world who wrote these songs. And sure, we may be ancient, but you are our go-between to bring all this stuff back into the world. I wrote that song because of how floored I am with your humility and industry to bring us back.”
“Looking back now, I bet there would have been several things you would have done better.”
“I don’t know. Having four young stallions from Trottingham doing all this is one thing. But at the same time, it’s fascinating what a young Changeling like yourself would do. I mean, the musical thing is something I don’t think any of us have ever thought of. And you having your friends bring in new instruments to experiment is something we would do. Sure, not all the songs are everything like how I remembered, but here and there you took them in ways that maybe we should have.”
“But I’m not a real Beatle.”
Pull shook his head and patted hers. “You have been honest with everyone from the start, and that alone, I’d say, makes you a genuine Beatle. Now,” he got up, “how about we go find Dawn and Mango so we can have some dinner somewhere.”
“Before we go,” Ocellus said stopping him, “and that you remember what you were really like, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Is it true that The Beatles met Elvis Ponsley once?”
He laughed. “Yes, we did! And at his house too.” From there, Pull McCart told Ocellus the story as they walked out.