Close Enough to Touch: The Lyra Account

by LysanderasD

Five: Air

Five: Air

Saturday 12:00 PM EST - Concord, NC

Very carefully, Cass pulled the car to a stop, shifted into park, and shut off the engine. Instantly the tension in the car vanished as she leaned back, letting out an enthusiastic cheer. “Woo!”

I grinned at her from the back seat. “Yes, because we’ve made it all of an hour north and that’s a major accomplishment.”

“Excuse me,” she shot back playfully, “but I just drove an hour north with a pony in the back seat, I’m going to call that a major accomplishment even if you don’t.”

I frowned. “It’s not like I’m heavy.”

She snickered. “Heavy on the adorable, maybe. I had to be careful every time I looked in the rearview mirror! Did you know you stick your tongue out when you’re drowsy?”

I hadn’t known that. “I do now? I didn’t before. Car trips always make me drowsy, though.”

My stomach took a moment to interrupt.

“Ah, right, lunch,” Cass said, though she said it through a giggle. “A salad for the little lady, yes?”

“I’m not--” I coughed. That wasn’t an issue I’d faced yet. It wasn’t an issue I was going to face right then, in a cramped car, with a slightly-estranged but extremely enthusiastic female friend grinning at me in the mirror. “Yes. A salad will be fine.”

“Good! Sure you don’t want to come in?” she added as she opened the door. “Stretch those legs of yours or something?”

I hesitated. I knew I should. I was already beginning to feel cramped like this. And it wasn’t like I was invisible like this. Anyone could come walking out of the McDonald’s here and see me, but if I went in--

I watched the wind shift from the way the branches of the tree in front of us suddenly started waving the other way. The scent of grease and fast food filled the air, and I wondered how green I looked right then.

“Erh,” I said, bringing a hoof to my snout. “I think I’ll wait out here.”

Her expression shifted instantly to a regretful one. “Oh! Oh. Herbivore. Yeah.” She coughed. “Didn’t think that one through all the way. I’ll be back in just a few minutes, okay?”

“Yeah,” I wheezed. The smell lingered even after she’d shut the door.

---

“Here,” Cass said, still sounding guilty as she pulled the car to a stop again. “I’ve been up to this park before. Air should be nice and clear, and the weather’s nice for October. Now you can get out and stretch your legs.”

“I’m fine,” I told her.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad. I was dumb to suggest... here, hang on, I’ll grab the food...” She ducked out of the car and flipped her seat forward. I magiced the seatbelt off and wriggled around until I could crawl out.

Immediately I was more at ease. I hadn’t really noticed until right then how small Cass’ car felt, even as a pony. I’d always been uncomfortable in two-door cars, anyway. I’m not claustrophobic, per se, but I’m still the kind of person that might, for instance, sit at the end of the lecture hall closest to the door. I like feeling like I have options to get out if things get to be too much. Paranoia? Maybe. In this instance it was more like having no easy access to a way out of the car made it feel a lot smaller than it actually was.

But not only was I now out in the open air, but I was surrounded by... well, it’s a park. Trees, grass, there’s a lake down the way, take your pick. It felt open and the air had the fresh, humid feeling I’ve come to associate with lakes.

My ear got that strange itchy feeling that actually means a sound you’re used to hearing isn’t there anymore, and I turned my head as soon as Cass let out the obligatory “Uh oh.”

See, the thing about a park with a playground and a lake on the middle of a nice day is that it means kids. And when I say kids I mean little toddlers and tykes. You know, not a one of them older than seven. And it just so happened that on this particular Saturday every young mom in Concord had decided to take their daughters out to play.

Stepping out of the car, the air had been filled with the gleeful sounds of a dozen little girls having a great time at the park. By the time I’d taken four steps, of course, they’d all seen me.

I had enough time to realize that four was my unlucky number before the massive squeal of “Pony!” tore through the air slightly ahead of a dozen six- or seven-year olds. Cass said something they were probably not meant to hear. I let out a half-choked hysterical laugh and braced myself--

Thankfully, the day was saved by one of those moms. You know the sort, I think. They’re the real supermoms--like, okay, let me say, it’s not like I’ve got any experience as far as having kids goes? But I’ve always been of the opinion that no one’s ever really “ready” to have kids--you don’t just sit down one night and you’re like “Yeah I’m absolutely certain I’ll be ready for kids.” It’s a learning experience. I watched my aunt go through it, at least partially. And some moms take to it better than others: they really get how to connect to their kids--and that’s the sort of mom that happens to be there.

She was the first to recover from the sudden appearance of a technicolor pony, and she shouted her daughter’s name with a sort of practiced authority, and her daughter--go figure, she was leading the charge--slid instantly to a stop and looked over her shoulder, straight into Mommy’s disapproving glare. Mimicking their apparent ringleader, all the other girls stumbled to an uncertain halt.

“Thanks,” I said dazedly, blinking. Beside me, Cass had backed up against the car, and as I looked at her she straightened her expression from one of abject terror to an admirable but unsuccessful attempt at looking friendly.

The mom bounced up to me. And not that kind of bouncing; she’s actually kind of small and I wouldn’t peg her as over 30. She was the sort of small, energetic person that does everything exuberantly, and it made her look like she was bouncing across the ground.

“Sorry about that,” she said with the sort of resigned patience and sincere smile that told me she had to do something like this a lot.

“It’s fine,” I said, chuckling nervously, and looking past her. The gaggle of little girls were rooted in place, although they were all--to a one--eyeing me with gigantic, hopeful, almost tear-filled eyes. The power of the supermom is frightening indeed if it can hold back this tide. I didn’t much like the thought of being swarmed.

The lady nodded decisively. “Alright.” She spun on her heel to face the kids. “Back to the jungle gym, girls, the pony doesn’t have time to play...”

I swear the universe shuddered under the collective disappointed “Awwwww.” My ear twitched, and I cast a glance over at Cass. She was pouting at me just as hard as the little girls. I rolled my eyes. When I looked back at the kids, the energetic mother was shooing them away, although more than one of them was crying and they were still all staring at me.

Oh, Sun and Moon. I’m going to regret this, I know it.

“Actually...” I cleared my throat and tried again. As one, the girls seemed to perk up. “Actually, it’s okay.”

The mother looked at me. “Are you sure?”

“If they’re gen--”

The kids were already rushing toward me. The mother, once again displaying her massive charisma stat, shouted “Gently!” just before they reached me. The end result was the same: I was still surrounded by little girls who all want to touch and cuddle and hug. The only difference is that I wasn’t not bowled over by the force of their enthusiasm.

And the first thing I realized is that it’s not bad. I hadn’t exactly been clamoring for people to touch me since this whole thing started, so I didn’t had any idea what to expect. And yeah, they were kids, so they tended to push and pinch and pull a little harder than they probably should have, but on the whole it was like being hugged from every direction at once. I had to tilt my head back to get enough air to breath amidst all of the wriggling toddlers. Cass was still leaning back against her car, but this time she was laughing hard enough to cry.

“So soft!”

“Pretty pony.”

“Pooonyyyy.”

All the same, the idea became less and less appealing the longer it went on. I’ve never been one for crowds; again, I’d sit at the edge of the lecture hall just to be close to the door. And it hit me, suddenly, like a delayed falling piano in a slapstick cartoon, that all of this attention is focused on me.

“Okay,” I said weakly, trying to move a foreleg to push the mass of children gently away, but the leg had been latched onto and rooted in place. Suddenly the touching and the petting and the hugging wasn’t so pleasant. “Please...”

I sent a desperate glance at the charismama, who had been hovering a short distance back, arms crossed, as her compatriots--fellow moms--formed up around her. She caught my look and opened her mouth, and that was when one of the kids got the brilliant idea to try and hug my face.

Remember how I mentioned the way my ears move on their own when there’s a sudden noise? It’s muscle memory, really--instinct that isn’t mine, because this body isn’t mine. A thing happens and this body just reacts. Instantly. With no thought on my part.

I heard my horn light up and there was a crack like a gunshot, and a terrifying moment where I was tumbling, disoriented and senseless in timespace, before things resolve. I was suddenly standing on grass rather than blacktop, although in front of me I could still see the jungle gym the kids had all been clambering over.

“She just--”

“Magic!”

“Whoa!”

They were all behind me. Apparently I’d teleported forward on instinct. I turned back to look at them and they were still all staring at me and oh god I didn’t feel so good, I probably shouldn’t have done that.

“I...”

But my vision was swimming and I’m pretty sure my legs were about to give out.

“I’m sorr...”

I think I blacked out. It can’t be for longer than a few seconds, but the fact remains that it felt like I went from standing uncertainly on all four hooves to lying on my side, a terrified Cass bent over me, in no time at all.

“Oh god, Travis, are you alright?”

My ears twitched. I could hear the sound of the kids picking themselves up. Some of them sound scared and confused and more than a couple probably ran to their mothers. Some of them took steps in my direction.

I could feel my tail spread out on the grass behind me and I couldn’t feel when my hoof bumped against Cass’s knee, and all of it feels wrong.

“I think we should go...”

She reached a hand down to touch my forehead, and I snapped “No!” She withdrew it, looking concerned. “I mean...” I sigh. “Yes, let’s go. Please. And no, don’t... don’t... touch me. I can do it on my own. Just... please keep the kids away. Let’s just go. Let’s just go,” I repeated, darkly, rolling up onto my stomach and gathering my hooves beneath me.

My eyes were closed, but I can hear Cass stand up and trying to deflect the kids. She sounded terrified. I wondered if she was already regretting her decision to do this. We were only an hour out. My grandparents were probably home by now and I’d get in a heck of a lot of trouble if we went back. Never mind what would happen to her. I had no idea.

I pushed myself shakily to my hooves again, and all I could think about was how wrong it felt. I took awkward, uncertain steps back to the car, and the kids, now all correctly corralled by mothers, watched me go. I felt exhausted and there was a headache building at the base of the horn I shouldn’t have, but as Cass opened the driver’s side door and flipped the seat forward, I did my best to give them a reassuring smile. This wasn’t their fault, really.

And I stayed awake just long enough after getting settled in the back seat again to wonder why I knew that.

((Before starting on this one, I managed to freak myself out by considering the fact that Surprise plushies probably exist, and had a panic attack about people having a plush version of me, before I managed to calm down enough to remember I am not actually Surprise. Now I know what Tome means when he talks about >>Character Empathy))
Joural0401 .:
Italics? Or something?

Author's Note:

09/17/2013: This and all subsequent chapters have been edited into past tense.

Thanks much to Joural--the Surprise writer for the PEv--for helping with the editing for this chapter!

Comments

[demanji]

at first i thought the crack sound was something like a gunshot glad it wasn't

[LysanderasD]

2442090

I see the value in your comment. That thought occurred to me as I was writing it. But remember that by the time all of this happens, the whole pony thing has been going on for a week. It's not common, maybe, but people have had time to get used to the idea.

This lady just happens to be the sort that's caught up and able to take things in stride. In her mind, ponies are people, too.

[LysanderasD]

2442122

Other stories in the 'verse have mentioned such an uprising. They're referred to as Lunar and Solar Guards.

Whether that will have an impact on my story remains for me to know and you to guess at.

:)

[Firebirdbtops]

Concord, felonious draconequus?

[TundraStanza]

2444929, More like "a state of agreement" or "a simultaneous occurrence of two or more musical tones that produces an impression of agreeableness or resolution on a listener". But in this case, it's an actual name of an actual city.

[R4skall]

That surprise part both surprised and confused me... Here... I... Go... TELEPORT!!!! ^.=.^ SMELL ME!!!!

[Pinklestia]

So, are you writing a "Becoming Surprise" fic next?