Head high, Holly Heartwood walked through the blustery wind, heading for the firehouse. The past few days had been difficult; there had been a physical, there had been plenty of training, and Holly was back to being in a constant state of being sore all over, a condition she was used to enduring as a roller derby star.
She had also signed more papers with Bronco Wisewithers for the professional endorsement, was photographed a zillion times in a wind tunnel to give her the illusion of great speed, and had picked up some new inline skates that allowed her a forward velocity she had previously believed impossible. Holly’s new bank account also had a tidy sum of money in it now, at least Holly believed it to be a tidy sum of money.
Life was almost perfect. Her house, which was being restored floor by floor, was starting to feel like home. She had a new bed filled with buckwheat hulls that was wonderful to sleep on. She had fully explored the house, both cellars, and the top floor. The top floor had a marvelous view of the small park that was just behind the rowhouses across the street from Holly’s, which were only three stories tall. Living in a house that was nine feet wide and exactly twenty seven feet in depth, (not the thirty feet that Holly had first thought) had some challenges, but Holly was adapting. The mansard roof had a broad, flat surface, wrought iron railing, and there were bins of almost dead grey dirt that would be perfect for a rooftop garden. In the city, there was no room for a large yard, but there was the rooftop, and there were many, many secret gardens upon the roofs of the city.
The wind whistled and howled as it blew between buildings, billowing down the artificial canyons of the city, gaining strength as it was pushed through narrow spaces. The wind was strong enough to cause the cabs in the street to wobble when the gusts caught them broadside. The wind was strong enough to blow ponies around on the sidewalk, unicorns getting the very worst of it. Very few pegasi flew in the air due to the gale force winds, as most pegasi lacked strength. Through it all, Holly was unphased. She was solid, she was sturdy, and she was an earth pony. Her hooves tended to stay where they were planted, very much like a tree.
As Holly made her way down the sidewalk, she righted ponies being shoved around by the wind, offering gentle nudges, little careful prods with her hoof, and sometimes using her head to prevent a nasty tumble. Holly, the solid sturdy sort, didn’t mind, and liked keeping others safe.
“Heya Knock Knock, heya Toots… how’s life?” Holly asked as she slipped in the door and then struggled to push it shut. “It’s blustery out there!” Holly looked at the two stallions and then realised that both of them had been waiting for her. Knock Knock’s mustache was quivering and Holly felt a growing sense of alarm. “Is something going on?”
Toot Toot nodded, but said nothing.
“Holly, we got back the physical information from the doctor and there is a bit of a problem,” Knock Knock said in a low voice.
“Problem?” Holly asked.
“Yeah Holly… you failed the physical—”
“How the nutty fudge did I fail a physical?” Holly demanded.
“Body mass index… they say you are—”
“Are they trying to say that I am FAT?” Holly shouted. She let out an indignant snort. “I AM NOT FAT! THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH A FULL FIGURED MARE!”
“Wait, wait, don’t start shouting, we can work around this, we just have to go downtown and see the commissioner and have a chat with him and he can sign a waiver.” Knock Knock’s ears were pinned back against his skull and he looked nervous, his tail was swishing around his hind legs, swatting at invisible flies and his mustache hid his mouth.
“DO I LOOK FAT?” Holly kicked out one shapely hind leg half covered by her long coat and gave it a wiggle. As she shook it, the plump flesh jiggled in a most eye pleasing way. “Do I look like a fat disgusting sack of cookie dough?”
“Pee coming out now,” Toot Toot said as he took a step backwards.
Knock Knock also took a step backwards to join his friend and his constant companion. “We can fix this… just… calm down. You’re a beautiful mare, Holly.”
“BUT I AM FAT!” Holly bellowed. “What, am I supposed to be a sack of draconequus antlers and door knobs, like those skinny little coathangers on the billboards?” Holly lifted up her right front hoof and began to wave it around. “When I roll somepony in the sack I want them to feel like they are screwing a pony, not rutting a thrice damned washboard!”
The two stallions, silent, gave a sidelong look to one another and then both looked at Holly. Knock Knock’s cheeks puffed out as he let a long, slow exhale escape while Toot Toot’s feathers ruffled out.
“It’s sexism! That’s what this is! Stallions are intimidated by mares of equal stature and equivalent mass! Would a fat mare be able to roller skate the way I do? Would a fat girl be able to prance around on her hind hooves the way I do? Or make it up those stairs? DO I LOOK FRONKING FAT?”
“How about a nice walk to cool off Holly?” Knock Knock gestured at the door. “We can go see the commissioner and get that waiver signed and then everything will be just fine and we can forget about this. You’re not fat at all… you’re just an earth pony. The firefighter guidelines were written for pegasi and unicorns… probably. They forget that earth ponies are always twice as solid.”
Almost but not quite mollified, Holly’s lip curled into a snarl. “So I’m fat and I’m discriminated against as an earth pony.”
“Let’s go for a walk,” Knock Knock said, gesturing again.
“Any alarms lately?” Holly asked as she and Knock Knock walked together.
“Just last night. A chimney fire. Small. No real damage. More smoke than anything,” Knock Knock replied as he leaned into the wind and struggled to keep up with Holly. He was strong, at least strong enough by department standards, but he was having trouble keeping upright in the wind and he envied Holly’s effortless gait.
“I’m aware that I’m a big girl,” Holly said in a low voice that was difficult to hear over the wind. “My former agent and I were always arguing about it. He kept saying that if I’d just drop some pounds and slim down a little, I’d be more popular and I’d get better billing.” Holly lifted her head and stared straight ahead as she walked. “You know how many slim and attractive mares I’d put into the wall at forty miles an hour?”
When the wind gusted, catching him broadsided, Knock Knock was forced to lean against Holly for a moment. He regained his balance and fought to restore a respectful distance.
“They even had me racing in intergender derbys… at least, that is what they called them. I was the only mare in a whole herd of stallions. They always threatened to rough me up and work me over and I always had to break a few bones to make them respect me.” Holly shook her head and felt the stinging wind in her watering eyes. “The other mares said I was too big… too heavy… I was too fat and they were tired of getting hurt.”
“I’m sorry, Holly,” Knock Knock said as he stared straight ahead, and gave Holly the benefit of the doubt that it was the wind causing her eyes to water. “Holly, you’re a solid mare, if you’ll let me be honest. But that is an asset in this job.”
“I like how I am. I’m not ashamed of being me. I’m tired of everypony trying to make me conform to some kind of standard, like my old agent. Ah, screw him. Telling him off was the best day of my life.” Holly felt Knock Knock getting blown into her for the second time and a half smile spread over her muzzle. “So what is your real name, anyhow?” She wiggled her hips to bump Knock Knock back onto his hooves and get him standing on his own again.
“My real name is Claybourne, don’t you—”
“Claybourne?” Holly asked, cutting the unicorn beside her off.
“—laugh.” Knock Knock turned and glanced at Holly. “My family, we immigrated to Equestria. My mama wanted me to have a name that kept me in touch with our old roots. You know, I don’t know why I thought you’d laugh. I dunno what I was thinking.”
“Where ya from?” Holly turned to look at Knock Knock.
“My family comes from a little far away place called the Manechester Isles.” Knock Knock’s black mustache bristled and had little icicles forming in it from his heavy breathing and the sub zero temperatures. The unicorn’s ruddy brown pelt also also getting iced over as he sweated a bit from his exertion to keep up with Holly as well as keeping upright on his hooves.
“So… your family immigrated here and settled in Manehatten?” Holly turned her head so she could see ahead once more. “Musta been hard, coming to this big city with nothing and making a life for yourself.”
“A lot of firefighters are from immigrant families, going way back. Toots too. A long time ago, our families came here, and we were poor, and we, well, we were stupid, but we were proud damnit, and it didn’t matter what job you had, just so long as you had a job. Even if it paid bupkis, at least you could say that you had a job and hold your head high. We did the jobs that nopony wanted to do. We took the crazy dangerous jobs. The jobs that got us killed.” Knock Knock paused and fell silent. He walked in quiet contemplation for a few minutes before speaking again. “I don’t know how it happened, but I imagine that at some point, there was some colt somewhere, some dumb as dirt type, and his daddy was killed by a fire on the job—”
Knock Knock drew in a deep breath before he continued:
“—anyhow, this kid, this dumb colt, he grows up hating fire, and he becomes a firefighter just like his daddy… and he settles down with some mare, and she hates his job, but she loves him in some crazy way, even though she’s scared dungless about his job, and they have foals, and at some point, the little foals, they get their heads all filled with the romance about this job, hearing stories from their daddy when he’s home, which is dung… total dung… and then at some point, the fire up and kills their father. One of them gets the sensible idea to grow up and be a nurse or a cab puller or something sane, but one of them, one of them realises that grandpa and daddy both died because of the Beast. So, being a real dimwitted sort, he goes off and becomes a firefighter, breaking his mama’s heart. And then, somehow, it just never stopped happening and now we have multigenerational firefighter families and some dumb colt is getting a cutie mark that is going to screw his life over.”
“So that’s how you got your little fire axe?” Holly asked.
Walking beside Holly, Knock Knock chuckled. “Something like that.” Knock Knock snorted. “And that’s how Toots got his rolled up firehose with a brass nozzle. Poor bastard. We tease him something awful about the fact that he was born to wrestle hose.”
Tittering, Holly felt her spirits lifted.
“Before we go and see the commish, you want to stop somewhere and get a bagel and a shmear?” Knock Knock asked.
“I’d love that… that’d be real nice,” Holly replied.