//------------------------------// // The Stray // Story: The Life and Times of Benjamin Inventor (Part 3) // by Bsherrin //------------------------------// The Stray We, in the ages lying In the buried past of the Earth, Built Dagon with our sighing, And Ontake itself with our mirth; And o'erthrew them with prophesying To the old of the new world's worth; For each age is a dream that is dying, Or one that is coming to birth. “Poems for Mages and Mechanics”, The Equestrian Encyclopedia of General Knowledge Twelfth times the charm, I thought, then flicked the switch. Fzzt. “Blast,” I yelled through gritted teeth and reached for a hammer. I raised it over the miserable device, then stopped myself. I slowly lowered the hammer and then put it back on its wall pegs. I stared at it a moment and wished again Fall was here and not a Journeymare at Smithson and Sons. Thinking of her and the letters from the Smithson and Sons management at least made me feel better; she was their new star and the bosses couldn’t praise her enough. My ears perked as Fall’s clock struck 11. An hour until lunch, more than enough time for a Blessing Count. I found Mrs. Grass doing that once after a difficult day at the Ponyville Martial Arts Academy and adopted the habit for myself. After lunch I’d get in some piano practice. I left the Hel-cursed magic collector for later and walked out to my spot by the gorge. It was a wonderful Spring day, Sunny and just warm enough. I stretched out, did some T’ai Chi breathing and started my Count. One: It was 2nd of Fourth, Year of Celestia 1,104 and we’d just finished Spring Planting. Two: I smiled as I thought of the greatest possible Blessing. AJ was almost seven months along and carrying very well. When AJ first got pregnant, she didn’t know it. She was throwing up a little in the morning and thought she’d put on weight. Granny guessed right away and had me check. Sure enough, there was a tiny spark of life in my best filly. Since AJ was the first of the Mane Six, the others went wild with joy and carried on like nopony’s business. Once the Crown heard about it, Tia gave AJ an Exemption from her Protector of the Realm duties with the others. AJ missed the excitement but knew the foal came first. The due date was Midsummer’s Day. I checked AJ each day, of course, and gave her daily massages, mane and tail brushings and long, hot baths. I thought AJ ate copiously before but when she started eating for two, the farm had to trade for more food. AJ insisted on working the farm, though, which was fine. Three: Fall had finished her Journeymare clock earlier this year and a fine one it was. Steam powered with an animatronic dwarf and bell, it didn’t lose or gain more than a second or two a month. The day Fall started it at noon sharp, I’d had a little ceremony with the Grass sisters and presented Fall with a Journeymare certificate. When she realized she’d have to leave the workshop, she galloped off crying again. I threw up my hooves but the Grass sisters chivvied her out of it. At 17, Fall had grown into the most beautiful Earth mare any of us had ever seen, even prettier than her sister Summer who was a model in Manehatten. She topped me by half a head, was a genius mechanic, carried herself perfectly, knew the art of conversation, how to dress, which fork to use, how to address a Duke, an Earl, a Baroness and so on. When Ma Brickle saw her just before Harvest last year, she had burst into tears and gone on and on about “her little filly all grown up.” An embarrassed Fall had rolled her eyes and begged Ma to stop as I chuckled. Fall and I visited Smithson and Sons several times and when I’d written the shop asking if they’d take Fall as a Journeymare, the mechanics had leapt at the chance. I saw a tearful Fall off to Hoofington just before Spring Planting started. She’d fit right in as I expected and soon lost her homesickness in the work. Four: The workshop had more orders than I could handle and I’d need help very soon. Fall and I delivered the steam trucks, several more racers and Lord Cecil’s two LuluBelle’s before she left, but I had orders for a dozen more trucks to fill this year. I’d revealed the aeroplane last Summer and it caused a sensation. Lord Cecil just had to have one and several cities wanted one large enough to carry at least five ponies. I kept the design to myself for the moment, though. Five: This one made me smile even more. The Dodge City sheriff had arrested Flim and Flam (one of their many aliases) on some scam or other and had confiscated the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy. Those two lowlifes had tried to con us out of Sweet Apple Acres last year but AJ, the family, the rest of the Mane Six and I had sent them packing. I’d filed a complaint, though, so they were marked unicorns all across Equestria. Even more importantly, once I wrote him back and asked, the sheriff, an Apple relation, said I could have a look at the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy which had a working magic collector. If I could copy it, no more renewing magic every month on the steam trucks or anything else. Six: I had all sorts of duties as Hero of the Realm including settling quarrels out of court, disciplining the occasional malcontent (which I usually turned over to Maggie for “lessons”) and presiding at concerts, dances and beauty contests. It amused Lady Magic no end. Death and I talked once a month or so on the Astral and I’d finally suggested he get an Apprentice of his own. He looked surprised, then thoughtful and said he’d consider it. Family, work, play, status, Avatars. All very good. Well now, I did feel much better. I still wondered about my Purpose but Lady Magic just said, “You’ll know soon enough, Guardian,” when I asked. Sheesh, Avatars. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them. “Um…excuse me?” I heard behind me. I stood and turned. There stood a thin, ragged looking Earth pony with a tan coat, dark brown mane and gold-rimmed spectacles over his dark green eyes. He was average height and had a three-gear cutie mark, one I didn’t know. Chancellor had just published his four-volume Cutie Marks of Equestria and I’d bought a leather-bound set which he’d signed for me. I was pleased my wizard hat and yin-yang symbol was one of the unique ones in the first volume; I suspected this stallion’s was the same. “Yes, young stallion? How can I help you?” “Er…ah, are…are you, um…Mr. Apple?” said the Earth pony, stammering almost as much as Fluttershy. “At your service, sir.” “Oh, gosh, oh, wow, uh…well, it’s so great to meet you. I mean, I love your work…those steam racers, they’re just…well, they’re…oh, gee…” he said, his left hoof behind his head and staring at the ground. “Thank you. Your name, sir?” “Oh, I forgot to say, didn’t I? Jon. Actually, Jonathan Smithson…ah, sir,” said the Earth pony as he held out first his left, then his right hoof for me to shake. “I see,” I said, taking his proffered hoof. “Any relation to the Smithson and Sons in Hoofington?” Jon jerked his hoof away from mine and looked away. “No,” he said, abruptly. Whup, sensitive subject, there. “Very well. What can I do for you, Jon? You’ll have to wait a bit for a racer, I’m afraid; I have 12 in front of you.” “Oh, no, Mr. Apple, I couldn’t possibly afford…well, not to say I wouldn’t want one…ah, well…actually…” Jon ground to a halt and just stood staring at the ground, left hoof behind his head again. He suddenly looked up and almost yelled, “Please, Mr. Apple, give me a job!” There we are. “Well, fine, Jon, let’s talk about that. What are your qualifications? Have you ever worked in a machine shop before?” “Yes…I mean, no…I mean, I’ve been on my own for a good while now and…” Jon stopped again, left hoof in the usual place. “Hmm, yes, well. If you can’t answer such a simple question honestly, then I have no need of you. And I don’t have time to train another Apprentice just now. But thank you for stopping by, young stallion.” I started to walk away. “I’m not young!! I’m 28!! I left my Dad to start my own business and it failed, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, Mr. Apple, that I failed and failed and failed again and live in poverty and don’t have any prospects since nopony will hire me and I can’t go home since I’m too ashamed? Is that it?!” I turned to find Jon on his knees, tears running down his muzzle. He choked out a couple of sobs, then stopped, head drooping. I extended my healer senses. Poor Jon was on his last legs. His heart, lungs, and liver were barely working at all, he was anemic and he had a much reduced muscle mass. He was starving to death just like Mrs. Grass when I first made a pact with her except worse. Far worse. “Up, sir! Up at once!” I said, using magic to lift him to his hooves. I looked into his hopeless, sad eyes. I saw…Something. Something grand. More than grand, epic. It was just a glimmer, the faintest hint. And something further, something just for me and me alone. What? No idea. Lady Magic? You’ve already decided what to do, Guardian. So I have, Lady Magic. I heard Fall’s clock whistle sound noon, then the twelve strikes. “Jon, I thank you for your honesty and realize how difficult it must have been for you to confess. Now, then, let’s discuss this after lunch, shall we?” Jon actually drooled, then wiped his mouth with a hoof. “Um…thank you, Mr. Apple, I’m…really hungry.” “With me, please,” I said, walking toward the kitchen. I kept my healing sense extended since I wasn’t sure if Jon could make it or not. He did, though, and I let him lead as we walked through the kitchen door. “Mrs. Grass, we have a guest. Could you please accommodate one more?” Mrs. Grass turned and looked at Jon, then looked at him again very sharply. Jon sort of shrunk into himself and I had to admit, he did present a sorry sight. “The bathroom is upstairs and to your left, Youngster,” said Mrs. Grass, pointing imperiously. “Yes’m,” mumbled Jon as he turned and went upstairs. Mrs. Grass turned and gave me the same severe look. “A stray, Mr. Apple?” I had my right forehoof to my mouth, thinking. I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know, Mrs. Grass. However,” I said, turning to her with a smile, “I’m sure you’ll soon set him to rights.” “Really, sir,” said Mrs. Grass. “He looks like somepony Maggie should deal with instead of me.” I grinned, then turned as Jon came back downstairs, face and hooves clean. We took our seats, gave thanks for the food and then started eating. I’d been around Earth ponies for years and of course the Apples’ appetites were legendary, but I’d never seen a starved Earth pony eat before. Jon started and with surprisingly good table manners ate all the food Mrs. Grass had set out for lunch, an amount which wasn’t small. Mrs. Grass brought out the same again and Jon ate that while she and I just watched since we’d had our fill. After Jon finished his second helpings, Mrs. Grass looked at him more closely than before, set her mouth in a grim line and started bringing out food as fast as she could carry it. I got the paper and had another cup of tea while Jon ate platter after platter after platter. Next came the pickled vegetables, then canned tomatoes, green beans, apples and so on. When I looked up, every cupboard in the house was bare. Mrs. Grass brought out one last jar of her famous pickles she’d set aside for me to take to Granny. Jon looked at it and finally said, “No, thank you. I believe I’ve had enough.” Mrs. Grass beamed with triumph and snatched up the pickle jar. “Tell me, Youngster, how long has it been...?” But the minute he finished eating, Jon blinked, yawned and fell muzzle first onto the table. Mrs. Grass’ answer was a snore. “Poor, poor thing,” said Mrs. Grass, stroking Jon’s left ear. Got you, Mrs. Grass, I thought. “I’ll put him to bed in one of the new bedrooms, shall I?” “Very well, sir.” Mrs. Grass followed me with Jon’s glasses which she cleaned, then set on the bedside table; Jon had no saddlebags or any other possessions. Jon wasn’t the cleanest pony but I didn’t worry about that. I realized after I shut the bedroom door I felt…satisfied. Seven: Jon arrives at the workshop, said Lady Magic, impishly. Jon slept until the 5th. I walked into the workshop as the clock struck 7 and heard Mrs. Grass upstairs. “Don’t you argue with me, Youngster. You get yourself in here and you stand under that shower!” “Um…well, um…Mrs. Grass, I, actually, I can shower myself…” I heard Jon answer. “Move!” said Mrs. Grass very firmly. I heard water running, then the heated dryer as I got myself a cup of tea and read the paper. Soon down came a clean and well-brushed Jon followed by a satisfied Mrs. Grass carrying a huge wad of brown hair. Mrs. Grass threw the hair away, then pointed at the table. Jon sat meekly. I dipped a corner of my paper and leaned over. “Just give in, Jon, and we’ll all have happier lives,” I said as quietly as I could. “I can hear you, Mr. Apple,” said Mrs. Grass, her back to us. I made a frightened face at Jon and he gave me a small smile. Jon had another enormous breakfast, Mrs. Grass well prepared for him this time. I ate some fresh mushrooms just to keep him company. After we finished, Jon helped clean up the kitchen and earned a pat on the muzzle from Mrs. Grass, a sign of her favor. I stood to head to the workshop. “Um…Mr…Mr. Apple, I’d, well, I’d…” said Jon, and then just looked at the floor, left hoof over his neck again. Uncomfortable with strong emotions, I thought. “With me, if you please, Jon.” Jon followed along behind me and I gave him a tour of the shop. He said little, occasionally asking a question about socket wrench sizes or whether some tool or other was Hoofington make. I finally reached what Fall and I had taken to calling the Annex. There spread out before us were two disassembled steam trucks, both bound for Los Pegasus. For the first time, Jon looked really interested. He stepped out among the parts and asked advanced questions such as cylinder width and tolerances, steel purity and whether or not I used tapered bolts. After a few minutes, he looked up at me. “I can put these together for you, Mr. Apple, to pay for my food.” No hesitation in his speech at all, I noticed. “Well, Jon, that’s a fine offer. Let me get you a manual.” “I don’t need a manual, sir.” What? “Jon, these steam trucks have…” “…546 parts, yes, sir, I counted. A beautiful design, by the way.” I was thunderstruck. “Ah…thank you, Jon. How long do you think you’ll take to assemble these two?” Jon looked around the Annex. “Oh, I should finish by this afternoon, Mr. Apple. The first will go a little more slowly than the second.” Two in a day! I could do it with magic, of course, but it left me more tired than I liked. Fall could do two in two days since she knew the design so well, but from just parts? Well, no harm in letting him try, I suppose. “Well, then. I’ll work on some of the smaller jobs while you’re out here. Lunch at 12.” Not a chance he could do it, I thought rather smugly. Not without magic. I spent the morning on local orders including another one of those shoddy Fillydephia sewing machines of Rarity’s. I finally duplicated every single part in titanium, then put it back together keeping only the case. I stamped the Apple Manufacturing name and logo on the front so everypony would know Rarity had a sewing machine guaranteed for a lifetime. Jon, Mrs. Grass and I ate lunch at 12, Jon talking very little. He helped Mrs. Grass clean up, then went back to the Annex without another word. Emerald and I looked at one another, then both of us went back to work as well. I finished another barrel of railroad spikes to make it an even four when Jon came to get me around 3. He walked into the workshop and said simply, “Ready, Mr. Apple.” This I had to see. I nodded, then walked with him back to the Annex. There sat two complete steam trucks and not a single part left. I started in astonishment, then looked at Jon. Jon just nodded. “A very nice design, sir. Will you please fire the boiler so I can check the pressure?” I did and Jon climbed into the first truck’s driver seat. He ran a thorough check exactly as I would have done, then blew the safety. He did the same to the second truck, then climbed down and looked at me. “All set, Mr. Apple. You know, it’s too bad you don’t have an MCU for the boiler,” said Jon, wiping his hooves on a rag. “And what may an ‘MCU’ be, Jon?” “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. It stands for ‘Magic Containment Unit’. If you had one, you wouldn’t have to renew the magic fire every month.” Jon looked at the ground. “I built one for my Mobile Apple Cider Extractor. If I had that, I could…” “Jon, a moment. Did you say ‘Apple Cider Extractor’?” Jon gave me that sad look of his. “Yes, sir. I put all my savings into it and these two goons stole it right out from under me. That’s how I ended up broke in Fillydephia.” I walked forward and gripped Jon’s left shoulder with my right hoof. “Jon, you can’t mean the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy?” Jon nodded again. “That’s what the Gadzinka brothers called it. I called it the ‘Mobile Apple Cider Extractor #1’ or M.A.C.E. 1” Yes! Thank you, Lady Magic. It wasn’t I, Guardian. You have started to shape this World by yourself. I squeezed Jon’s shoulder again, then patted it. “Jon, Flim and Flam are on ice in Dodge City and your M.A.C.E. 1 is there. What say you and I fly there tomorrow and have a talk with the sheriff?” Jon looked stunned, then elated, then tears started down his muzzle. I stepped forward and held him in my front hooves while he sobbed against my chest. I could tell he didn’t cry often and didn’t enjoy it very much, either. He gripped my left shoulder with surprising strength considering how weak he still was and held his glasses in his other hoof. He didn’t cry for long, then pulled back. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his muzzle with his hooves and putting his glasses back on. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Jon gave me that sad smile of his. “You must think I’m some kind of lil.” “Nonsense, Jon,” I said, handing him a handkerchief. “Say, pull one of the new steam trucks around to the loading dock, would you? We still have more than enough time to make some deliveries.” “Yes, sir.” “And Jon?” Jon looked over at me as he climbed into the truck cab. “Welcome to Apple Manufacturing,” I said, grinning. For the first time since he’d arrived, Jon looked happy and returned my grin. “Thank you, Mr. Apple!” We loaded the four barrels of spikes, chained them down, then put the sewing machine and few other odds and ends in the carry box. Jon took the wheel and drove like he was born to it. I gave him directions and our first stop was the depot. The yard workers offloaded the barrels and welcomed Jon to Ponyville after I introduced him. He smiled and thanked them but didn’t say anything else. Our final stop was Rarity’s. I had Jon pull the steam truck around back, then we both went into the shop. Rarity was in her “Inspiration Room” working on a new fashion line. I waved to her and held up the sewing machine. “Delivery,” I said. “Oh, thank you, darling!” said Rarity, tossing down a ribbon and walking toward me. “We’ve missed that one the last couple of days.” “Well, it’s to the Apple Manufacturing standard now, Gorgeous,” I answered as Rarity kissed me on the muzzle and I kissed her back. “And may I present Jonathan Smithson? He started at the shop today.” “Jonathan, a pleasure. Benjamin’s so needed help since Fall left I know he’s thankful to have you!” said Rarity as she shook Jon’s hoof. “Ma’am,” said Jon, returning the shake. Jon was doing well and seemed to have shed his awkwardness. “What do I owe you, dear?” said Rarity as she mounted the sewing machine on a sewing table. “Eh, 10 bits.” “Oh, Ben, you always undercharge me.” “Oh, very well, Rarity, if you insist. 5 bits.” Rarity giggled and handed me a 5 bit piece. I flipped it to Jon who looked surprised but caught it deftly in his left hoof. “A pleasure meeting you, Jonathan,” said Rarity, waving a hoof. “Ma’am,” said Jon again. I waved and Jon and I turned to go when we heard a commotion. Pinkie burst through the curtain which separated the main area from the back. “Rarity! Do you have any more of that pretty pink fabric…?” Then Pinkie noticed me. “Beeeennnn!!” she yelled and I readied myself for her usual charge. It didn’t come. Instead, Pinkie was staring at Jon who was standing to my left. Rarity and I braced ourselves for the “Welcome Song” at the very least, but that didn’t happen either. Pinkie just sat and didn’t move. Rarity and I looked at one another with identical amazed expressions, then back at Pinkie. “Hello,” said Pinkie, still staring at Jon. “Hello, miss,” said Jon, and held out a hoof. Pinkie took it like a perfectly ordinary pony. “Hello,” she said again, holding Jon’s hoof. “Ah…Pinkamena Diane Pie, may I present Jonathan Smithson? He started at the workshop today,” I said, looking from one to the other. Silence. Rarity and I looked at one another again and wondered what in the name of Equestria was going on. Neither of us had ever seen Pinkie quiet for this long. Then I Knew. I extended my healing sense and could almost see the line connecting the two Earth ponies. Love At First Sight. Unusual but not unheard of. I didn’t tell Rarity although from her ears shooting forward I gathered she’d already guessed. Rarity slowly turned her head to me and raised her eyebrows. I nodded. “Well, then. We’re on our way. Pinkie, always a pleasure,” I said as I put a hoof on Jon’s shoulder. He let go of Pinkie’s hoof and slowly lowered his own. “’Bye,” Jon said. “’Bye,” Pinkie answered, still staring although she did wave a hoof. Jon backed up and most likely would have fallen off the back steps if I hadn’t steered him to the truck. He fired her up, then seemed to come to himself as he drove back to the workshop. I had him park the new truck back where it was. “That’s enough for today, Jon. Tomorrow is Dodge City and day after tomorrow we’ll stop by the Ponyville Bank and open an account for you, then arrange for a flatcar to take the trucks to Los Pegasus. Jon nodded, then looked at me, his intelligent eyes no longer sad. “Beautiful. She’s beautiful.” “Yes, Rarity is one of the most attractive…” “No, sir, no, the other pony. Pinkamena. So beautiful. Like a dream,” said Jon, staring off into space. Dream? Pinkie? I knew Love At First Sight was potent, but still! “Yes, she’s…most exuberant. She works at Sugar Cube Corner. We can stop by there on the way back from the train station or perhaps you can see her at the next dance?” Jon’s focus snapped back to me. “Mr. Apple?” “Speak.” “Thank you for this,” said Jon, waving his hoof at the shop. “Thank you for everything.” “Of course, Jon. I’m delighted to have you.” Jon nodded as we turned and walked to the kitchen. “Don’t worry,” he said, walking next to me, “I won’t get all weepy over it.” Mrs. Grass looked up with a smile at our shared laughter.