//------------------------------// // Chapter Ten- Follow in my Hoof Steps // Story: Chasing Dreams // by Final Draft //------------------------------// “You promised! You promised!” “Slip, please don’t do this right now.” “It’s not fair!” “Mommy will try to get out early.” “But you won’t! You know you won’t! They never let you!” “Please be quiet or you’ll wake Mr. Chaser.” Dream Chaser had been awake since he heard the knock at the door earlier that morning. An associate from the hospital had come to inform the nurse she was needed to cover a shift. She bit her lip and tried to say no, but she was unable to turn down the chance for overtime pay. Her promise to her son now broken, she was stuck trying to find someone to watch him while she worked. Her sister was out of town for the weekend and foal-sitters weren’t cheap. The stallion she’d allowed to stay the night tossed uncomfortably on her couch, and she knew he would rather go home than watch Slip for the day. In fact, she wouldn’t even think to ask, not after the night he’d had. She’d stayed there in the living room with him, holding him until he fell asleep, and even a little longer. He had kicked and shook in his sleep, occasionally muttering the name of the white mare that used to accompany him on his visits. Slip Stream had nestled up to his mother to watch the sick stallion. “What’s wrong with him?” Slip had asked, but Sun Stream did not answer. Even she wasn’t sure. “Ice cream, the zoo, a new toy, anything,” the mare pleaded with her child. “I want to go to the Equestria Games on my birthday!” Slip demanded. Sun Stream wanted to break down and say yes, but couldn’t make a promise she knew she would break. “Honey, please…” Slip Stream gave her the angriest look he could before running to his room and slamming the door. The nurse sat at the table and cupped her face in her hooves. She sat there sobbing, and Dream Chaser could no longer pretend to be asleep. He rolled off the bed and limped to the table. It wasn’t until he sat down that the nurse noticed his presence. “Everything okay?” Dream Chaser asked. “I’m a terrible mother,” Sun Stream replied, sniffing and wiping away her tears. “I have to go to work, and I promised him I’d spend the day with him.” “Did you ever get a hold of a foal-sitter?” Sun Stream looked at him curiously before asking, “You heard everything, didn’t you?” “A fair bit, yes. Listen, I have nothing to do today, I could watch him until you get back.” “No, no, no, I can’t ask that of you—” “It’s the least I can do after last night.” The mare reached for her purse and began fishing for a few bits to give Dream Chaser but he held up his hoof in objection. “Thank you,” she said, closing the purse back up. They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the clock tick and the sound of Slip Stream’s muffled sobbing. “You’re going to be late,” Dream Chaser said, looking over at the clock which read 6:45. She nodded, grabbed her purse and left the apartment. After a few moments, Slip’s sobs stopped and he opened up his bedroom door. He looked around the apartment until his eyes fell on Dream Chaser. “Is she gone?” he asked, wiping the tears from his bruised eye. The stallion nodded and Slip pulled a chair next to him. “She promised she wouldn’t work today,” Slip pouted, crossing his forearms, putting his head on them and resting them on the table. “I know,” Dream Chaser said, copying Slip’s position. They simultaneously sighed and looked at each other. “Do you work today?” Slip asked. Dream Chaser chuckled. He knew the meaning of hard work, but had never had an actual job before in his life: all his income had come from winning races…or charities. “Nope, I have today off.” Slip Stream lifted his head up, got ready to say something, then decided against it, and put his ears back and his head down. His stomach rumbled and he buried his face into his forearms. “Hungry,” he mumbled. After sitting like that for a moment, he stood up and walked to the ice box. A few glass bottles rattled as he opened the door and he stood there looking disappointed. He shut the ice box and looked over at Dream Chaser who hadn’t budged. “Anything?” “No,” Slip said, his stomach growling again. “Want some pancakes?” “Yes!” Slip said, running to the stove and waiting for Dream Chaser to stand up. Slowly, the stallion rose and walked to the wooden cupboards that lined the small kitchen. Every cupboard he opened was emptier than the last. Pots, pans and spider webs were the only occupants of the storage space. “There’s no flour,” Dream Chaser said at last, giving up his search. Once again, Slip put his ears back and looked down at the floor. “Can…can you go buy some?” Slip asked hopefully. Dream Chaser looked up at the clock. It was still ten minutes of seven; several hours before any shops or bakeries would open. And besides, he had no money. However, there was one other option. “Grab your saddlebag. Let’s go,” Dream Chaser said, grabbing his pill container off the counter. Slip, in the blink of an eye, ran into his room and came out with his empty school bag. “Hold onto this, and stay close to me,” Dream Chaser said, putting his medications into one of the saddlebag’s pockets. With one last look over the apartment, Dream Chaser and Slip locked the door and headed out into the city. The Hoof Beats novelty clock, featuring all four members of the band, struck 7:00 and “I Want to Hold Your Hoof” began playing from the mini speaker within. Short Stack stepped out of the kitchen and into the dining area of his restaurant. Everything was sparkling clean from the checkered floor tiles to the retro memorabilia that covered the walls. A cardboard cutout of Mare Lynn Moonroe struggling to keep her skirt down sat in the corner by a jukebox. As he always did before opening, Short Stack blew Moonroe a kiss and went to unlock the front door. What appeared to be a stallion and his son stood outside the diner, waiting patiently for the closed sign to be turned to open. Short Stack loved the early birds and eagerly turned the key in the lock. He flipped the sign to open and smiled up at his first customers of the day. They weren’t regular customers but one of them was stunningly familiar: the red mane, the gold coat…the scars. “D-Dream Chaser?” the short pony stammered. The gold stallion nodded and Short Stack looked from him to the colt that accompanied him. “My friend, come in, come in!” Short Stack ran behind the counter and shouted, “Two in the door!” to Chewy out back. The red Pegasus looked out from the order window and stared in surprise. “Well I’ll be—is that Dream Chaser? Shoot, ain’t seen you since…well…you know.” The red Pegasus looked over at Slip Stream with surprise. “Well, hey there little fella! Yer daddy takin’ you out for breakfast?” Before Dream Chaser or Slip could correct the false assumption, Short Stack leaned over the counter. “Hey, I’m sorry to hear about Dream Catcher. I had no idea you two had a foal.” “Hey, stop,” Dream Chaser intervened, “This is Slip Stream, he’s not mine, and I’m just watching him today for his mother.” “Oh, sorry,” Short Stack apologized. Slip continued looking around at all the retro decorations of the diner, not terribly concerned with the conversation taking place. “Well, regardless, can I start you two off with some drinks?” Short Stack asked placing a pad of paper on the counter and grabbing a pen in his teeth. “Tomato juice please.” “Apple juice!” Slip shouted. “Coming right up!” Short Stack replied, then scurried off to the kitchen. The bell on the door behind them chimed and several ponies walked in. They took their seats at the tables throughout the diner and began their morning conversations. Short Stack returned with the two ponies’ drinks and looked around at his new customers. “Let’s get your order in now,” he said, placing menus in front of them. Slip opened his menu right to the pancakes and his face lit up. “I want that one,” he said, putting his hoof on the blueberry triple stack. “No wait! That one!” He moved his hoof to the bananas and cream triple stack. “Hold on…That! I want that!” The newly arrived customers were already growing impatient and Short Stack looked at them nervously. Slip had once again changed his mind, this time deciding on chocolate chip pancakes. “Yo, Shorty, I’ll take an OJ and three slices of toast!” an impatient stallion shouted. “How about I have Chewy whip you up something special?” Short Stack offered, writing down the impatient customer’s order on a separate sheet. “Special?” Slip Stream asked with bright eyes. “Extra special.” “Yes, please!” “Okay, good. Anything for you, Dream Chaser?” Short Stack said as another customer began shouting their order. “Same as Slip, if you could,” Dream Chaser said, after being unable to decide. Short Stack nodded, scribbled something down, tore off the sheet, and pinned it up for Chewy to begin cooking. “This place is so cool,” Slip Stream said, still marveling at the decorations. He absentmindedly kicked his hooves against the counter while looking around. Dream Chaser took a sip of his tomato juice and reached into Slip Stream’s saddle bag for his pills. Once he found them, he popped the container open and downed the pills with a swig of his drink. “So, Slip,” he said, setting down his glass, “what do you and your mom do when she doesn’t work?” “I don’t know. She ALWAYS works.” Slip took a drink of his apple juice and looked over at Dream Chaser. “And when she doesn’t, she either sleeps or does bills. She’s so boring.” “Your mom does a lot for you. Be easy on her,” Dream Chaser replied. “I don’t want her to do stuff for me; I want her to do stuff with me. Like, she never takes me out for breakfast.” He took another sip of his apple juice and began swiveling around on his chair. Short Stack ran back and forth taking customers’ orders and relaying them to Chewy. All the while, steam and pleasant aromas wafted out of the kitchen. Soon, the little diner became full to capacity with hungry patrons. An elderly unicorn stallion hoisted himself onto the stool next to Dream Chaser, tipping his hat as a friendly “good morning”. Dream Chaser nodded and went back to staring intently at the order counter. At long last, two plates stacked high with pancakes appeared and Chewy rung the little bell. “Order up!” Chewy shouted. Short Stack brought the plates over one at a time and set them in front of the two hungry ponies. Mounds of berries and sliced fruits adorned the pancakes and syrup ran down the sides. Slip Stream’s eyes lit up and he immediately began shoveling food into his mouth. Dream Chaser watched happily and felt something slide under his hoof. “No charge, my friend,” Short Stack whispered. Dream Chaser looked at the paper beneath his hoof, and what would have been a thirty bit bill came out to nothing. “Thank you,” the grateful stallion replied, sliding the bill beneath his plate. Short Stack smiled, then walked back to the order counter, leaving Dream Chaser to enjoy his free meal. “How is it, Slip?” Dream Chaser asked, looking over at the colt. Slip Stream smiled and tried to say something through a mouth full of pancake. When Dream Chaser didn’t respond to what Slip thought was a very clear question, he shrugged and continued eating. When Slip Stream finished his meal he licked his plate clean and looked over at Dream Chaser. “What are we going to do now?” The stallion continued picking away at his collapsing pile of pancakes and thought for a moment. “How about a run?” he asked between bites. “Burn off some of these calories.” “That sounds awesome! Let’s go!” Slip shouted. “Hold on, hold on,” Dream Chaser said, “Let me finish.” Slip Stream sighed and watched as the stallion continued eating. “You’re too slow. Let me help,” Slip said, digging his fork into the side of Dream Chaser’s meal. “Hey, I don’t need help.” “Yes you do.” “No. I don’t.” Dream Chaser slid the plate away from Slip. “But I’m still hungry,” Slip pouted. Dream Chaser looked down at his meal and knew it was more than he could actually finish anyway. He slid the plate back between the two and cut the pile in half. “I’m making you run an extra mile now.” With the plate empty and their stomachs full, the two ponies left the diner. Short Stack and Chewy bade them farewell, hoping to see the two again. Slip Stream trotted happily ahead of Dream Chaser, even though it was the stallion who was supposed to be leading them to their destination. The sun was just making its way over the tops of the buildings and shone brightly on the city streets. “So where are we going?” Slip asked as he performed a figure 8 around some puddles. “Only the best place in all of Manehatten,” Dream Chaser replied proudly. He took lead ahead of Slip and led them into the recreational district. Past all the theaters and parks was a large oval building set apart from everything else. “Here it is,” Dream Chaser said, “Manehatten Stadium.” Slip looked at the collapsing building skeptically. “This place is a dump.” That really meant something coming from a colt that had grown up in the ghettos of Manehatten. “Yeah, it was like this when I was young too,” Dream Chaser replied, leading them across the street. The building should have been condemned years ago; violating nearly every building safety regulation in existence. The building itself had been built over marshland and didn’t sit quite evenly, the left half having sunk several feet into the ground. Amateurs had laid out the designs and there were rows of seating with no access and hallways that went to nowhere. The glass roof that covered the field had been smashed, with only a few dirty panels remaining in the rusty grid. The Manehatten Stadium sign had been missing letters even when Dream Chaser was a colt. Despite its appearance and everything wrong with it, Dream Chaser still had nothing but fond memories of the place. They approached the front of the building only to find the front doors covered with graffiti and chained shut. “The dream is dead.” Slip Stream read aloud from the graffiti. Spray painted next to the phrase was a tombstone with Dream Chaser’s cutie mark on it. While Dream Chaser fumbled with the locked chains, Slip compared the graffiti to the stallion’s flank; trying to see if the image beneath the scars was the same as on the door. “Come on, I know another way in,” Dream Chaser said, letting the chains bang loudly against the rusted door. Slip followed the stallion around the building to some overgrown bushes and watched as he pulled them back, revealing a storm door. “Secret entrance!! awesome!” Slip said excitedly. Dream Chaser grinned and pulled the door open. It groaned on its rusty hinges and bats burst from the cellar. The two ponies looked down the stairs and saw murky water reflecting what little light shone down. “I don’t know how deep that’s going to be. Can you swim?” Dream Chaser asked. Slip Stream looked up at the stallion and shook his head left and right. “Alright, let me go first.” Dream Chaser carefully made his way into the darkness, trying to remember how many steps there were supposed to be. He could see six but he thought there were supposed to be ten. Slowly, he eased his hoof into the cold water, feeling for the next step, and the next. Sure enough, there were ten, and when he felt the concrete beneath his hoof the water was up to his neck. “Are you sure we should go in there?” Slip Stream shouted down. Actually, he wasn’t sure. If his legs went into a spasm he could drown. If anything happened to Slip Stream, he was responsible. However, the medication informed him everything would be fine. “I did this all time when I was young!” Dream Chaser shouted up. “Jump on my back and let’s go!” Slip walked to the bottom step and looked into the water before climbing onto the stallion’s back. “This is just like in Daring Do!” Slip said as he rode into the darkness. Dream Chaser carefully made his way through the flooded cellar, his hooves bumping submerged objects as he treaded. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light and he saw the staircase leading up to the locker rooms. He let Slip Stream jump off and then pulled himself out of the water. “Almost there,” Dream Chaser said assuring both Slip and himself. He climbed to the top step and pushed open the door. The locker room, with its peeling blue paint and missing ceiling tiles was exactly as he remembered it. “Come on, it’s this way,” he said, heading to a door at the end of the locker room. There was a long hallway with a square of light at the end and Slip Stream ran forward in anticipation. Dream Chaser walked the path he’d walked hundreds of times before, imagining the cheering crowd and feeling his heart race. By the time Dream Chaser got to the end of the hallway, Slip Stream had already stormed the field. The track itself was relatively well maintained. The drainage system was doing its job after the storm, even if it did lead into the ventilation system of the basement. The grass in the center of the track was littered with empty bottles and trash left by the homeless or the wasted youth of the city. “This is so cool!” Slip Stream marveled as he trotted around the empty stadium. “Can I start running now?” “You need to stretch first,” Dream Chaser said as he walked to the sidelines. Slip groaned and did a few basic stretches before readying himself at the starting line. He waited for the imaginary whistle to blow before taking off at breakneck speed. Dream Chaser watched him sprint around the 400m track, a blur of silver and blue, dodging puddles and ruts. “Hey! This is a private field!” a gruff voice shouted from behind Dream Chaser. He turned to see a mustachioed donkey in a blue jumpsuit being followed by several young stallions in identical jumpsuits. The donkey spat as he yelled, his false teeth threatening to fall out, his glasses fogging, and sweat building on his shiny bald head. “I ought to call the cops on you! Breaking and entering is a crime!” “Hello to you too, Coach Hard Ass,” Dream Chaser greeted. The donkey paused at hearing his nickname said by the intruder. He wiped off his glasses and approached the stallion. “What you just call me?” “Coach Hard Ass, sir,” Dream Chaser replied, standing up straight and puffing out his chest. The donkey squinted into the stallion’s eyes and made weird grumbling sounds as he thought. “You know it’s twenty push-ups for callin’ me that, Tail Chaser.” There was a pause and the two embraced. “I’ve been worried about you, boy,” the coach said as he released Dream Chaser. “I’m fine,” Dream Chaser assured his former coach. Slip Stream was suddenly right beside Dream Chaser, panting and looking around at the strangers. “What was my time?” Slip asked in between breaths. The donkey looked down at the colt then to Dream Chaser with a sly grin. “I see you must have finally caught some tail, you sly dog, you,” the coach said, elbowing Dream Chaser. The stallion stammered, but the coach ignored him, bending down to Slip Stream’s level. “Do you want to run just like your daddy?” the coach asked. “No…” Slip replied. “My mom wants me to be better than my dad.” The coach laughed, not realizing the full implication of Slip Stream’s words. “Well, let’s see how you do!” The coach turned to Dream Chaser who was more than a little embarrassed. “See these fine stallions here?” The coach pointed to the ponies he’d brought with him. “They’ll be representing Manehatten in the Games in a couple weeks. Let’s see how your boy does against them.” “I get to run with real runners? Awesome!” Slip Stream exclaimed. He looked over at the stallions and they posed with pride. “Head on down to the track—and be sure to stretch!” The donkey yelled as Slip Stream had already bounded towards the track. The stallions joked and shoved each other around; saying whoever lost to the kid was to forfeit their slot in the Games. “Go easy on him, boys,” the coach whispered, slapping their haunches as they passed by. “Coach—he’s—” “Don’t worry about it,” the coach interrupted Dream Chaser, “If he’s anything like his father, he’ll be fine”. The coach made his way to the sidelines and left the flabbergasted stallion in the stands. “He’s not my son,” Dream Chaser spoke the phrase to himself. “You’re sure about that?” Dream Chaser turned and saw Dream Catcher sitting in the front row, eating from a bag of puffed corn. Her mane had been straightened and dried since he saw her the night before. She tapped her hoof on the seat next to her, indicating for him to sit. “Yes,” he replied, wiping the water off the seat before sitting. “I’m sure.” The racers and Slip readied themselves at the starting line and waited for the coach to blow the whistle. “He’s cute,” Dream Catcher said, crunching on her puffed corn. “We should have had one.” Dream Chaser didn’t reply. Like the racers, he was waiting for the whistle. Slip had two racers on either side of him and they spoke and laughed with him. The coach blew the whistle and the five took off up the track. At first, the four professionals galloped along at a steady pace, thinking they were keeping up with their guest. However, Slip was merely matching their speed. Suddenly, he broke from them and careened up the track, leaving the four stallions in his dust. “Holy smokes!” the coach shouted, watching as his professional racers struggled to catch up to the speedy colt. “Ooh, just like his daddy,” Dream Catcher marveled, watching Slip keep just ahead of the other racers. “I’m not his father,” Dream Chaser said through gritted teeth. “Oh come on,” Dream Catcher said, spilling some of her puffed corn. “I’d seen the way you looked at that nurse, the way she gave you ‘special’ care, that time I actually walked in on you…” “That was…That wasn’t what it looked like,” Dream Chaser objected, recalling the exact situation the mare had brought up. He had fallen out of bed and spent twenty minutes trying to hoist himself back up. He had been alone and refused to hit the “help” button. By chance, the nurse had come by to check on him and found him laying there. She offered him help, but he refused. She only tried harder to help him, wrapping her hooves around him, and trying to pick him up. Had he complied, she probably would have gotten him up no problem. But he had resisted, pulling both of them to the floor. She had landed atop him and they were eye to eye. Exhausted, Dream Chaser allowed the nurse to do her job. As she sat on his lap and began hoisting him up, he wrapped his hooves around her back for better support and rested his chin on her shoulder. It was that moment Dream Catcher had walked in. “It was exactly what it looked like,” Dream Catcher said, spitting a kernel at the stallion. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he kept his eyes on the race track and watched as Slip Stream crossed the finish line a full ten yards ahead of the other racers. “Tail Chaser!” the coach shouted from the sidelines. Dream Chaser looked down and saw the donkey waving for him to join him. “Dream Catcher, I—” he stopped when he saw the seat next to him was empty aside from an empty puff corn bag. Her scent still lingered and graced his nostrils before being replaced by the odor of wet garbage. “I still love you.” He whispered the words and descended the steps to the field.