//------------------------------//
// Chapter 10 
// Story: A Basket, A Blanket, and a Bundle of Bills 
// by kudzuhaiku 
//------------------------------//

	A day off. Well, that was a bit of a misnomer, as he had plenty to do, but Copperquick was looking forward to spending a day with his daughter—and Miss Oddbody. He also planned to study a bit, if he could, and it might be nice to get out of the house to spend some time in a park somewhere. Everything was nice and green after the scheduled rain yesterday. 

Little Esmeralda was crawling on the floor, burbling, and leaving little puddles of drool everywhere. Copperquick lay on the floor with her, watching her, fascinated by what he had created. A moment of steamy passion with a near stranger a year ago had led to this, this moment where he stared at his own daughter with his chin resting upon the floor. She looked so much like him. Her bright, curious amber eyes took in everything she saw. The distinctive shade of copper in her pelt, a metallic looking colour, it was something that Copperquick had inherited from his father. 

Lifting his head, he stretched out his neck, and with his teeth, he grabbed his daughter by the scruff of the neck. She let out a shrill squeal as she was hauled close and set back down upon the floor. Copperquick then rolled her over onto her back for a better look at her, wanting to see her face, her little legs, every detail that she had to offer, he wanted it committed to his memory. 

“Blorp?” she asked in a most inquisitive way. 

“I am mildly concerned,” Miss Oddbody said from where she sat on the couch. “She should be talking now. Simple words and such. She wasn’t socialised enough, I fear. Mrs. Velvet and I discussed it. Mrs. Velvet did a few tests and we discovered that Esmeralda just shuts down if she is spoken to in too loud a voice. It was quite tragic to observe and Mrs. Velvet believes that Cielo del Este may have screamed at her in an attempt to make her be quiet. There may have been other means of silencing her as well, such as nipping her or—” 

“I don’t want to know,” Copperquick blurted out. 

“I understand.” Miss Oddbody offered a prim nod of her head. “It’s over now. She has a parent that loves her. I’ve been watching you and how you are with her. She adores you and trusts you.” 

Feeling troubled, Copperquick lowered his head down and pressed his muzzle into his daughter’s barrel. He chuffed and was rewarded with a giggle, along with some kicks. It bothered him that he had procreated with such an awful pony. He had gone after her strictly upon the bases of good looks, and Cielo del Este was a looker. A moment of indiscretion, a mad desire to scratch his itch, it had cost him. His job, his apartment, and perhaps some of his youthful naiveté. 

While he might have screwed up, Esmeralda was not a mistake. Copperquick placed his lips against her right front frog and blew a raspberry. A geyser of spit squirted out of her lips as she freaked out from the ticklish sensation and then she started laughing. It was a magical sound, something that he treasured, something that made all of this worth it. 

Never again would he bed a mare based upon her good looks, but rather, the merit of her character. Without even realising that he was doing so, he lifted his head and looked over at Miss Oddbody, who was studying for her own schoolwork. Some of her bun had fallen out, leaving tendrils of her long mane spilling down around her face, which was angled downwards and into her book. Her glasses had slid down almost to the end of her nose. Miss Oddbody was wearing a fresh, clean cardigan, this one appeared to be cotton, a light knit, with sky blue and iron grey in a twisted cord pattern. No other mare her age would be caught dead wearing such an archaic bit of fashion, but Copperquick liked it. Oh yes, he liked it a lot. Miss Oddbody had a somewhat frumpy librarian thing going on, or… or perhaps a nanny, or maybe a schoolmarm from yesteryear. 

She was modest, careful, and unostentatious. Miss Oddbody was a mare that was mindful of her tail and the position of her body—in doing so, she left much to the imagination. Copperquick had a big, dopey grin that he was unaware of plastered across his muzzle as he watched her turn a page with her wing. 

“Copperquick, I was wondering… about your name. Your father is Copper Clanger, two words, but your name is one word. How did that come about?” The curious young mare looked up from her textbook and focused upon the stallion on the floor. 

“Oh, that’s my mother’s fault,” he replied, his grin growing even larger, “and not my fault at all.” Copperquick let out a discrete sounding chuckle and then thought about his mother. “When I was born, I was Copper, after my father, and then with time, I became Copper Quick. I was fast as greased lightning. I was so fast that my mother struggled to keep up with me and you know how mothers are… when you are in trouble, they use both names to get your attention.”

Covering her mouth with her hoof, Miss Oddbody began to giggle. 

“So, it became a race to get my attention and to keep up with me. ‘Copper Quick’ was shouted out in such a way that it became one word that my mother would say when she was trying to get my attention before I zoomed off. ‘Copperquick!’ and by then, it would be too late, if she wanted to paddle my backside, she had to catch me. I never made it easy on her.” 

Clucking her tongue, Miss Oddbody shook her head in mock stern disapproval. “For shame, Mister Quick, for shame.” 

“I miss my mum. Today, while I have some free time, I need to write her and my dad a letter.” Copperquick looked down at Esmeralda, who was amusing herself by blowing spit bubbles. “She made the best jelly butties.” 

“I don’t follow,” Miss Oddbody said. 

“Jelly sandwiches. She had this trick, see, she would butter both sides of the bread, spread on some jelly, and then slap on the top piece of bread. Then she would let the sandwich, buttered on the outside, sit in a skillet and brown. The butter outside would leave the bread crispy, and the butter inside would melt…” Lost in nostalgia, Copperquick’s words trailed off. 

“Hmm, that sounds good… I could do that… mmm, butter.” Miss Oddbody blinked. “That reminds me. You don’t have anything that you can cook things like beans, rice, or oatmeal in. You don’t even have a grinder for the dried corn, so that things like cornbread or cornmeal mush can be made. If you have the available funds, we should maybe see about getting a few things for the poor excuse of a kitchen you have.” 

“I have a little, but not much.” Copperquick allowed his head to drop down upon his daughter and smoosh her. When she banged her front hooves against his chin, he smiled and rubbed his jaw against her belly. 

“We don’t need much. A rice cooker can be used to fix oatmeal, beans, and even cornmeal mush. You do have a little toaster oven and that can be used to make some meals like cornbread. A cheap grinder won’t last very long, but it should serve our purposes for a time. If necessary, I can spend a little of my own funds, but don’t tell Mrs. Velvet. It’s fine when she bends the rules, but when I do it… Miss Oddbody gets lectured.” The young mare looked rather owlish behind her glasses as she blinked. 

“When do you want to go, Miss Oddbody?” 

“Oh, well, Esmeralda is nice and fresh at the moment, so now might be good,” she replied. 

“Well then, let’s get ready and have a grand day out. I could use a happy day.” 

“You know, Mister Quick, I think I could as well.” 



 

Sitting in the warm spring sunshine, Copperquick wondered what it meant when two ponies went appliance shopping together, comparing prices, and discussing the merits of one model versus another. It was a rather odd experience and he had no frame of reference for making sense of it. 

Esmeralda lay upon a blanket spread over the grass and she was sound asleep. Her little legs kicked and twitched as she dreamed, and looking at her, Copperquick felt a happiness that was previously unknown in his life. She was a tiny, precious thing to him, and he supposed that his paternal instincts had to be taking over in some scientific way that was beyond his reasoning. 

Miss Oddbody chased after butterflies and hummingbirds, the overcaffeinated pegasus appeared to be having the time of her life as she flitted about the public garden. This particular park had a botanical section that was in a state of gorgeous spring bloom, which the butterflies and hummingbirds found irresistible. 

With Esmeralda napping and Miss Oddbody occupied, Copperquick pulled a textbook out of his bag. Equinology: A History of Equine Civilisation. For him, it was one of his tougher subjects, but he needed at least one credit in it for almost any specialised degree he might chose when he decided what he wanted a degree in. Right now, the class was studying the First Tribes, those who lived in Equestria first, and their lasting impact upon civilisation. The First Tribes worshipped alicorns, holding them in reverence, while holding the draconequus known as Discord as a figure of revulsion, the equinification of evil. The First Tribes were now a minority group within Equestria, loved by some, while hated by others. 

Opening his book, he settled in for a read. He needed to study. Studying was of vital importance if he was going to preserve his grades. And he had to preserve his grades, because he had to graduate. Not for himself, no, but for Esmeralda. He had no idea how he was going to pay for school, but he tried not to worry about that at the moment. Knowing Twilight Velvet, a way would be found. 

For the first time in days, Copperquick was able to relax enough to concentrate. He settled into his book and began reading about the cultural contributions of the First Tribes. Their theocratic culture blended well with the monarchical culture imported by Princess Platinum. Both had strong similarities, but also a few differences. Princess Platinum was not worshipped as a living god-figure. There were some tensions when the Founders relinquished their own positions and submitted to the rule of alicorns, but those tensions were to be found among the tribes they had brought with them, and not in the leaders themselves, who saw a great and glorious future. 

The issue, as Smart Cookie saw it, was that Princess Platinum, Commander Hurricane, and Chancellour Puddinghead, these ponies would not live forever. And while the three of them seemed content to live in a triumvirate, sharing power in equal measure, any successor might not, and might seek a way to gain more power for their own tribe. By abdicating their own positions and surrendering their tribes to the Royal Pony Sisters, equality could be maintained. Smart Cookie wrote long treatises upon this issue, many of which became foundations for Equestrian law, culture, and tradition. 

The turning over of power was met with hostility by some, and these ponies went off to other places in the world to form their own nations, some of which were still hostile to Equestria to this very day. Others mellowed with age and became valuable trading partners. Some would go back to the Grittish Isles in what was called The Great Return, struggling to keep individual sovereignty. The Grittish Isles were still ruled by the royals of each tribe, each offering their own contribution. 

Hearing a gurgle, Copperquick looked up and saw that Esmeralda was awake. She was being quiet and good, and seemed to be content to gaze upwards into the sky. Slipping his book marker into his book, he closed it and gave his daughter some much needed attention, thinking about what Miss Oddbody had said about socialising. 

“Say ‘Daddy’ for me, Esmeralda.” 

“Oorojaloop?”

“No, that wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” 

“Shleesnorp?” 

“If you keep this up, I shall have to give you a tickle.” 

The foal blinked, considering her father’s words. With a grunt, Copperquick flopped down beside her and then scooped her up into his forelegs as he got comfortable on his stomach. She wiggled and kicked a bit, getting comfortable, and then went still with her head resting upon her father’s foreleg. 

“Mokoo?”

“No, I must insist on being called ‘Daddy.’ Now keep trying. I’ve gone through considerable trouble to keep you and it is the least that you can do.” Copperquick settled in for a snuggle and looked down into his daughter’s amber eyes, which mirrored his own. “Now, keep in mind, we’re Grittish. We’re unflappable and polite. We work hard and we’re dignified.” 

With a very surprised look upon her face, Esmeralda pooted, but did not fill her diaper. 

“Yes, we occasionally do that as well.” Copperquick’s eyebrows almost pressed together. “My father gave me some advice… he told me that should I ever find myself doing that in a situation where it is unexpected or impolite, he said that I had to make eye contact as it happened and never once look away. ‘Just stare ‘em in the eye, little Copper, and don’t you look away,’ he said. And he was right. A pony will not say anything, do anything, or even react most of the time if you stare them in the eye as you let one rip.” 

Copperquick heard hysterical giggling and looked up. Miss Oddbody was hovering nearby and clutching her sides as her giggles became hoots of laughter. He smiled up at her, relishing the sound of her feminine laughter, and he could not help but think that she sounded a bit like a bird as she hooted. 

“Miss Oddbody, shall we go and get lunch?” 

“Oh, that sounds lovely. Some place cheap though. I think I know just the place.”