Chapter 9: This Isn't A Date
Stinking Rich had put on a very nice outfit before he came to the Seed's room, hoping to make a good impression upon the family. After seeing his brother doing the same this morning, he thought it best to try the technique out for himself. Given his history with the Seed's, getting on their good side was well worth the effort. He just hadn't expected the weather to be as hot as it was.
He nervously knocked on the door, beads of sweat pouring down his pimples as he waited for the door to open. It wasn’t like this was a date or anything, so why was he feeling so nervous? He was just trying to prove a point, and with as much of the Equestrian government backing this Everfree Forest project, it was best for him to start getting in the Seed Family's good graces.
Sew n' Sow opened the door with a big smile on her face. "Now don’t ya look nice, Stinkin' Rich," she said, tussling his hair affectionately. "Smithy’s been talking 'bout this date of yers ever since breakfast this mornin'. It's just been the cutest lil' thing I ever seen!"
Stinking Rich ran his hoof through his greasy hair, angry that the effort he'd made on it was ruined in a matter of minutes. "Uh, this ain’t a date, Mrs. Seed," he tried to explain as calmly as he could in spite of how frustrated he was feeling. "I’m just gonna take Smithy to hear a political speech is all. She really needs some information in her life. I was real surprised she’d never even heard of Chairman Carpet Bag before, let alone read much of the papers. Where’d she get her know how from before that?"
While Sew n’ Sow was a little bit insulted by the comment, she knew she wasn't the best pony for keeping up with the news. "We've had it kinda hard, youngin'," she said in her defense. "Some nights, the only thing a newspaper was good fer was lightin' a fire. When gettin' to see tomorrow is all ya can think 'bout, learnin' new stuff is kinda like a luxury."
Having not thought about that, Stinking Rich immediately regretted saying what he had. He knew he had a bad habit of speaking before thinking about what he was going to say, and that this habit of his wasn't doing him any favors. "Well, don't ya worry no more, Mrs. Seed," he apologized, trying to get back on her good side. "Me and mah family are gonna do everythin' we can to help yer family get them luxuries. That's why I'm takin' Smithy to see Chairman Carpet Bag's speech today. I got a real good feelin' she's gonna learn a lot."
Pleased with the response, Sew n’ Sow wrapped a motherly arm around Stinking Rich’s shoulders. "That’s mighty neighborly of ya," she said, smiling appreciatively. "I always wanted to give mah kin the best, but I never could 'til now. As much as this is gonna sound crazy, and don't tell nopony else I said this, but I'm gettin' the feelin' Pokey Oaks gettin' arrested was the best thing that ever happened to us."
Smithy interrupted her mother's conversation. "What are y'all talking 'bout?" she asked, noticing her mother speaking in a low voice with Stinking Rich and catching a few of the words.
Sew n' Sow straightened herself out, doing her best to look like she wasn't hiding something from her daughter. "Just tryin' to figure out what y'all had planned fer this date of yers," she lied. "A mama’s gotta make sure her lil' girl is bein' treated like a lady."
Smithy rolled her eyes at her mother's gushing. "This ain't no date!" she exclaimed, ignoring Stinking Rich’s nod of agreement. "We're just gonna go watch a pony talk 'bout stuff in the papers is all. Stinkin' Rich made a big fuss 'bout it this mornin', so I'm goin' so he'll shut up 'bout it."
Sew n' Sow chuckled at her daughter’s hardened display. "Mind yer manners," she demanded as she helped Smithy tie her bonnet on with a neat bow. "He’s doin’ ya a real nice favor. Least ya could do is be polite and try havin' a good time."
Giving up on the conversation with her mother, Smithy begrudgedly walked up to her escort so she could get this visit over with. "Hi, Stinkin' Rich," she said in what felt like a flat, rehearsed tone. "Thanks fer takin' me out."
Ignoring the lack of enthusiasm, Stinking Rich put on a winning smile. "Ya ain’t gonna regret hearin' Chairman Carpet Bag speak today," he said excitedly, a pep in his step as he led Smithy out of the room. "Best part is, we can read all 'bout it in tomorrow's paper together and see if the reporters are any good."
Sew n’ Sow stuck her head out the door and waved at the children as they walked down the hallway. "Y'all have fun!" she shouted so loud that a few guards turned their attention to her. "Be safe out there, and don't talk to no strangers, and iff'n ya get scared just come right on back now, ya hear!"
Smithy blushed as one of the guards asked her mother to watch her volume. "Yes, mama," she replied as they turned the corner, too embarrassed by Sew n’ Sow's loud concerns.
Smithy cringed in embarrassment as she heard 'Mama loves ya, sugar cube!' echoing around the corridor. "She’s gotta way of worryin'," Smithy tried to explain as she heard the guards complaints coming from the direction of her family’s room.
Stinking Rich giggled at his companion, which she did not appreciate. "Lighten up, would ya?" he teased. "Mama’s are gonna do stuff like that. Mine made a big to do 'bout goin' to breakfast this mornin', but iff'n I hadn’t, I'd never found out that ya didn’t know the first thing 'bout keepin' up on the news."
Smithy rolled her eyes at the small talk. "Just cut the act," she said, grabbing Stinking Rich by the tail and spinning him around to face her. "Knowin' ya, I just gotta feelin' there's more to this than what yer sayin'."
Stinking Rich cocked a half smile as he looked down his nose at Smithy. "I guess ya really wouldn’t know a helpin' hoof iff'n it swatted ya on the rump," he said, watching her begin to fume.
Smithy took the insult as a threat and pushed Stinking Rich away. "I ain’t stupid!" she shouted, mad to feel tears welling up in her eyes.
Brushing off the assault as a simple temper tantrum, Stinking Rich quickly regained his composure. "No, ya ain’t stupid," he began to explain, watching Smithy fighting with her emotions. "Yer just ignorant is all. I saw that this mornin' at the breakfast table, and I saw it last night when I caught ya with that ziggler. Ya've always been ignorant of what's going on 'round ya, and iff'n I gotta be honest, I'm startin' to feel kinda sorry fer ya."
Sniffling back tears of frustration, Smithy was enraged by what Stinking Rich had to say. "Ya got nothin' to feel sorry 'bout," she replied, one of the welled up tears leaking out onto her cheek. "I can get along just fine on mah own, and I can be friends with anypony I want. Just ya wait and see."
Stinking Rich rolled his eyes at Smithy's bad behavior. "I hope fer yer sake ya can," he said, watching her as new tears of frustration formed. "Things are gonna change fer both of us now that yer daddy got that land. Change can be scary, and iff'n ya don't know what's goin' on 'round ya, yer gonna come off like yer dumb as a post."
Smithy eyed the serious look on Stinking Rich’s face. "Why are ya so worried ‘bout it?" she asked, still having her suspicion. "It ain’t like we're gonna see much of each other after we move to the Everfree Forest. After we settle in and grab Grammy Gillyflower from Dodge City, I'll never have to see ya again!”
Stinking Rich looked upon Smithy with sympathy. "Oh heavens," he said, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "Ya didn’t read what happened to her in the newspaper obituaries, did ya?"
Smithy crossed her arms and gave Stinking Rich a sour look. "I didn’t know she was in the papers iff'n that's what yer tryin' to say," she huffed like the stubborn filly that she was. "She must have done something real special to get in the papers, but she's always been a real special pony. All I know is she's been waitin' on us to send word to come on home."
Stinking Rich wasn't looking forward to being the bearer of bad news. "Don’t ya know what an obituary is?" he asked, watching Smithy shake her head like a stubborn mule. "It’s... it's when the town party ponies write to the papers 'bout funeral announcements."
Smithy’s stubborn stance melted away when she took in the news. "That can't be true!" she began to bawl. “Grammy Gillyflower is waiting fer us in Dodge City!"
Trying to wipe away the tears with his handkerchief, Stinking Rich tried to soften his tone to get through to her. "I’m sorry, but I thought ya knew," he explained as Smithy continued to cry. "Do yer folks even know yet?"
Smithy didn’t know, nor did she care, if the rest of her family knew what happened to Grammy Gillyflower. All she knew was how hurt she felt, and how much she was hoping that Stinking Rich was lying. "Why would the newspapers print somethin' like that?" she asked, feeling Stinking Rich drying her cheeks with his handkerchief. "Why would anypony wanna read 'bout somepony dyin'? That's so morbid!"
Letting Smithy rest her crying head against his shoulders, Stinking Rich awkwardly tried his best to comfort her. "See, this is just one reason why it's important to read the papers," he said, feeling a fresh stream of angry tears wet down his suit. "Iff'n ya don’t know what’s goin' on 'round ya, yer bound to get hurt."
Smithy took Stinking Rich’s handkerchief and blew her nose loudly on it. "I wanna see where it says in the newspaper that mah Grammy's dead," she sniffled, trying to regain her composure.
Taking back the soiled handkerchief, Stinking Rich tried his best to stifle his disgust for Smithy’s sake. "The Canterlot Library keeps papers on file fer a couple months," he explained. "Iff'n ya wanna go there later on, I can take ya. It'd be a good chance to learn more 'bout readin' the papers."
Smithy wiped away the last of her tears as she listened to the offer. "Why are ya tryin' to be nice all the sudden?" she whimpered, taking a deep breath to steady herself.
Stinking Rich was all to happy to answer. "Have yerself a good look at some of these here paintin's and stained glass windows fer a good example," he replied, standing beside Smithy to guide her attention. "These here folk got to be what they are 'cause of their skills, their work ethic, and most important, their good reputations with other ponies. Get what I'm sayin'?"
Smithy shook her head as she looked at the paintings and colorful windows decorating the walls. "What do they gotta do with us?" she asked.
Stinking Rich shook his head, sighing his own frustration. "They’re an example of what we can be fer each other," he tried to explain in a dumbed down manner, pointing to a painting of the three pony races getting along in harmony. "Look, I know we ain’t always got on with each other, but with what's bound to happen, we aught to bury the hatchet. I want to be successful just like everypony else in mah family is, and ya should want that too."
Smithy wasn’t prepared for this. She saw what looked like a scared young man standing in the empty hallway, a puny excuse for a pony compared to the elaborate paintings and windows of ponies performing grand, important tasks. "Yer afraid, ain’t ya?" she said, taking a curious step closer to see if she was right.
Stinking Rich took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a lil' fear," he answered, trying to turn his weakness into a strength. "Fear keeps ya alive after all, but bein' prepared to stay that way is just as important. Between the two of us, we got lots to work on."
Smithy was starting to feel a little bit better about talking to Stinking Rich, but she still didn't understand everything he was saying. It all seemed so foreign to her compared to the lifestyle she had grown used to. "So yer really that worried 'bout me makin’ a fool outta mahself?" she asked.
Stinking Rich nodded heartily, glad to finally be making some leeway. "Ya outta be more worried 'bout it yerself," he replied. "And speakin' of makin' fools of ourselves, we don't wanna be late fer the speech."
Behaving like a gangly gentleman, Stinking Rich opened a door to the courtyard. "Ladies first," he said, a genuine smile crossing his pimply face.
Smithy shielded her eyes from the bright, sunlit courtyard. She could see ponies sitting on the ground in front of a grandly decorated wooden stage, waiting for the speech to begin. She also noticed food vendor ponies selling their treats, souvenir peddlers looking to cash in on the speech, and a few intense debates going on between spectators. She was genuinely intimidated by the mass amount of what she saw, but felt more comfortable when Stinking Rich offered her his hoof to hold. "Thanks," she said as they crossed the safety of the threshold together and entered into the chaos of the courtyard.
Smiling as if he had won something, Stinking Rich lead Smithy through the packed crowd. "What are friends supposed to be fer?" he replied, having to shout over the sound of the crowd. "Now quit standin' there like a bump on a log. We're gonna miss out on the good spots!"