//------------------------------// // Chapter 11 // Story: A Basket, A Blanket, and a Bundle of Bills // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// More than a little nervous, Copperquick tried to make himself ready to face the morning. He was a little tired, but not exhausted. Last night, he had been able to study for a bit after returning home, and then he had gone to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour. Esmeralda woke up twice in the night after he had gone to bed, and both times, she had bawled for her needs to be taken care of. She seemed to be learning that it was okay to cry for help though and she was now giving off warning cries, rather than full blown wailing, at least to start off with. The self rocking cradle was a magnificent invention that might just be the saviour of civilisation. Sometime, during the night, Miss Oddbody had put oats into the rice cooker and now there was oatmeal for breakfast, slow cooked over the span of several hours. There were oats on the tiny patch of tile floor in his kitchenette, but nopony could be bothered to clean them. There were no containers to store the food in and the oats had spilled out of the cut open corner of the cloth sack. With everything they needed, with all of the right papers ready and stowed away, the trio once more made off for the treasury offices to see if anything might get accomplished today. Miss Oddbody was hopeful, they did have an appeal, but Copperquick was doubtful, fearing that today would be another wasted day. The only consolation that he had for this mess was that he got to spend it with his daughter… and Miss Oddbody. It could no longer be denied. He was growing fond of her. A crush? Infatuation? Whatever it was, he kept it to himself. She was more than a pretty set of wings to him, she was, without a doubt, the greatest thing that had happened to him. Miss Oddbody was an amazing pony and he wasn’t about to blow it. At some point, this would be over and Miss Oddbody would go on to continue with whatever was required of her. The best that he could hope for was to be friends. This spring morning felt more like a winter morning. It was chilly, but warming up as the sun made its way into the sky. More than anything, it was the breeze that brought about the chill, which was cold enough to make a snoot sting. Esmeralda was wearing a little onesie and cap that Sapphire Shores had been gracious enough to donate. The little filly didn’t seem to mind the cold at all and she giggled with every bouncing step of her father. “I don’t understand tribal registries,” Copperquick said as he made his way through traffic. “Why not just call it geneology and be done with it? Calling it a tribal registry seems like an invitation for more bureaucracy.” “It’s more than that though,” Miss Oddbody replied as she buzzed in the air beside Copperquick’s head—he was walking far too fast for her to keep up on hoof. “I don’t get it.” “It’s a monument… a testament… it is hard proof of how much the tribes have intermingled. Very few ponies can say they are pure blooded types any more. The moment that some blowhard comes out and starts talking about tribal purity, somepony else can visit the tribal registry and see that said blowhard is quite mixed. Revealing that to the public discredits said blowhard and tribal unity is preserved.” “Huh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Copperquick admitted. “We can see where we’ve come from, from where we’ve been, and that we all share a common history. Sure, we still have problems, but things have gotten better.” Miss Oddbody looked up into the sky, looked thoughtful, and then continued as she flew beside Copperquick, “The ponies of Cloudsdale are still the most clannish and that is where many of the lingering problems still pop up. In sociology class, we learned that it is because Cloudsdale is so exclusive to pegasi. Earth ponies and unicorns have a hard time visiting that place, and it is even more difficult to live there. Pure bloods, thoroughbreds as they call themselves, can still be found there in significant numbers. Some of them pride themselves on never having come down to touch the ground.” “And what about you, Miss Oddbody, how do you feel? Where do you stand on the issue?” Copperquick found himself intrigued. He came from a long line of earth ponies and it was fascinating to hear the Equestrian perspective on the issue. “While I would not turn down the right pegasus if he came along, I will probably follow my mother’s example and marry outside of tribe.” Miss Oddbody clucked her tongue. “It feels like civic duty… adding to the great weave of the tribal registry. I see it as proof of the greatest social experiment of all times, our great Equestrian nation. Speaking as a young mare that will be a mother someday, I want my foals to grow up with multi-tribal perspectives.” “So it comes down to civic duty?” Copperquick asked. “A pony’s life should be defined by civic duty. We all have a debt to society to enrich it and make it better. It is like an obligation to clean up after oneself to leave an area neat and tidy. It is my opinion that the only ponies who have a right to complain about the world at large are the ones working to make it better.” Miss Oddbody grinned and looked very pleased with herself as she buzzed through the air beside Copperquick. “So, you’d see it as your civic duty to date, say, an earth pony?” Copperquick knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he didn’t care. He was about to go into a brain dead coma when he arrived at the dole office. At least this might give him something to think about. “That would depend,” Miss Oddbody replied in a very prim voice. “Does this earth pony have a sense of civic duty? Would he work to change the world? How does he feel about fair exchange? I have given over the entirety of my life to a cause that I believe in, as such, I would need a pony who would understand that and feel as passionately about the issues as I do.” “Hmm.” Other than that, Copperquick did not respond and he hurried down the road. Returning a second time, the office was somehow even more horrible. It was a matter of knowing what to expect and then being powerless to do anything about it. The conditions were every bit as miserable as the first time, if not worse, and after hours of waiting, Esmeralda was a disconsolate mess with a snotty nose. “Look, I get what you are trying to do here,” the old unicorn mare said in a voice that was far too nasal. “I can even appreciate it. But I can’t help you. I’ll get in trouble. I could be demoted. The legalese makes it very clear that assistance is only for mothers. Females. Single. Unmarried. Who are not living at home with their parents. I would love to help you, but not at the cost of my own job. Even if I did help you, the ministry would just reverse my decision and take away any funding offered.” Miss Oddbody’s lower lip protruded and she nodded. “Mister Copperquick, I think what you are doing is admirable but I don’t know how to help you.” The old unicorn mare sounded apologetic and sincere. “Mrs. Maplewood, I would like to request a same day appeal due to imminent hardship. My client faces eviction and will be homeless.” Miss Oddbody leaned her head into the window and gave the old unicorn mare a pleading look. “I know these rules, laws, and regulations word for word.” Mrs. Maplewood scowled, then smiled. “There is absolutely nothing in the regulations explicitly stating that a single father can’t ask for an appeal. But I suspect that after today, there will be committee meetings to add that to the regulations. I’ll probably get a demerit for causing the committee to meet, but eh, screw them. What a bunch of knobs.” “A demerit? What is this, a school?” Copperquick asked in a hushed whisper. “No, a meritocracy,” Mrs. Maplewood replied in a dry, nasal voice. “I have my job because I got a filing cabinet as a cutie mark. The demerit system is there to keep us from getting ambitions and doing something that is believed to be beyond our reach. I am a clerk. I am supposed to get you to fill out forms and then I file them. I am not supposed to make decisions or cause a disturbance. If I do anything outside of my job description, anything at all, I get a demerit. Right now, telling you this, if one of my fellow coworkers report me, I could get another demerit and they could get a progress point.” “Ugh.” Copperquick shook his head and didn’t know what else to say. “Okay, pay attention father of the year, you need to go through the blue door with the number five five seven seven nine on it. You will be in a blue colour coded hallway. Follow the blue hallway and don’t go down any of the other hallways, like red, yellow, orange, or green. They intersect in a few places. Go up six flights of stairs, the lift has been broken for a year, and just keep following the blue walls. You will come to the offices of what we call the Withers Crew. They are the higher ups, but not the department heads. Take a seat in the blue waiting room and somepony will be with you at some point, you will get your appeal today before the office closes at five o’clock.” This worried Copperquick, who had school. “Good luck,” Mrs. Maplewood said. “Thank you,” Copperquick replied, feeling unsettled and worried. “Yes, thank you!” Miss Oddbody’s voice was chipper and a bit shrill in the dungeon-like environment of the deep, dark basement they were located in. The waiting room might have been blue at one time, but now, it was a faded, weathered grey that held a suggestion of blue if one squinted and strained real hard. There were no plastic chairs here, but wooden benches stained with a dark finish, which looked out of place with the faded blue-grey walls. The lighting here was kinder, there were yellow globes mounted to brass finishings on the walls that gave a warm, pale yellow light. There was even complimentary coffee to be had here, which Miss Oddbody helped herself to. There were no other ponies here. No receptionist. No nothing. There was the door that led back to the way they came, another door that was marked as the exit, and a third door that had to open into the offices. With it being so quiet, Esmeralda fell asleep in the foal carrier that hung from Copperquick’s neck. “First we get sensory overload and now we get sensory deprivation.” Miss Oddbody plopped herself down onto the bench beside Copperquick and somehow did not spill her coffee, which she held between her front hooves. “We did pass some restrooms out in the hallway, if you need to go and didn’t notice.” “I’m fine.” Copperquick looked down and listened to the sounds of his daughter sleeping. “You know, Mister Quick, if I was looking for a partner to aid me in my left leaning shenanigans—he would need to be my helpmate. I don’t just seek a mate, but an associate.” A wry smile was on Miss Oddbody’s face as she spoke. “I’ve spent almost six years in school. I am now finishing up my thousand hours of intern service. After that, I’ll graduate with my MFOSW. Mrs. Velvet has already promised me a job. I would need a partner who is comfortable and accepting of all of this.” Copperquick said nothing in return. He was still trying to sort his own life out. Feeling a little nervous and out of sorts, he sat there, his head bowed, looking down at his daughter. Esmeralda had changed his priorities, but he couldn’t say how much, not yet. He didn’t even know what a MFOSW was, and was just a little too embarrassed to ask. “About a year ago, I attended a university dating service. Met a few guys. Some of them seemed nice enough… but… they wanted to be the breadwinner, which meant that they wanted a mate that was a homebody. Some of them even had the nerve to ask me if I would give up on my plans so that they could have theirs. I dropped out of the dating service. After that, I had a reputation at the university and I overheard words like ‘frigid.’ I’ll be honest, I just sort of stopped looking and I thought that maybe I’d look again when I was professionally established.” Turning his head, Copperquick felt a sudden rush of unknown emotion. He looked at the little pegasus mare beside him. She was a tiny thing, skinny, gawky, she looked as though she was stuck in that in between stage, not quite a filly, not quite a mare, but he suspected that she was going to stay this way. She was far too much like a hummingbird, all swift movement and high energy. Feeling a lump in his throat, he swallowed, trying to make it go down. “I still don’t know what I want in my life… and everything just got complicated. I don’t even know if I will be able to stay in school.” Copperquick wanted to say that he didn’t mind the idea of being a stay at home dad, but he could not get himself to say the words as he wasn’t sure if they were honest. “My future is uncertain and I don’t even know what priorities I should focus on to get everything back in order.” A painful silence loitered about, waiting to see if it could settle in and overstay its welcome. Copperquick returned to staring down at his daughter and Miss Oddbody focused upon the depths of her coffee in its waxy paper cup. The silence, finding it was welcomed, made itself comfortable and snuffed out the conversation in the waiting room. No sooner spoken than broken, the silence began to fortify itself, ensuring it would be difficult to break. It was an introspective silence, using the power of thought turned inward to muffle the sounds of life and living. It held both Copperquick and Buttermilk Oddbody in its sway, making them both feel distanced, isolated, and set apart. In the magical land of Equestria, silence was a terrible, lurking vagrant waiting to settle in.