//------------------------------// // Chapter 45 // Story: The Mask Makes the Pony // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Donut Joe’s had very few patrons at this time of night. Hennessy was distracted, out of sorts, and still disoriented from his meeting with the Wardens, so grabbing him by the nape of the neck, Flicker shoved his friend into a booth and then sat down beside him as Piper took a seat on the other side. A waitress came strolling up, and it was Piper who dealt with her, requesting a dozen crullers and some tea. As the waitress went off, Hennessy leaned up against the window, shivering, shaken from his ordeal. He closed his eyes, pressed his cheek against the cool glass, and let out a pent up sigh that he had been holding in for a while. The trio got comfortable and Piper noticed that it was almost ten o’clock. She scooted over to the corner of the booth where the wall, the window, and the booth all merged together. “Hennessy, are you okay?” Piper asked in a hesitant whisper. “What was it like?” “It wasn’t bad, if that is what you are wondering,” Hennessy drawled, his voice soft, and he sounded almost as though he was relieved. “It was a little uncomfortable at first, it felt weird, but then she made some of the hurt in my mind go away. I can’t say just how it was”—the colt shook his head, confused—“but it… it was like she was there with me in my memories, like she was there when the beatings happened, she was right there with me, feeling my pain, sharing it, and I can see flashes of myself as a little foal, she was a little foal too in my mind, just a little thing, and she took every kick, every smack… and she… and she made me remember stuff I forgot…” “Dare I even ask what you remembered?” Piper’s eyes narrowed. “My Pa trying to drown me in the river… I blacked out.” Hennessy shivered and his head thumped up against the glass. “She was there with me, drowning with me, holding my fetlock. She knows my pain and that makes me feel better.” Closing his eyes, Hennessy’s head drooped a bit. “Just talking about it makes me feel like I has the piss-shivers.” “The Wardens are aware of every crime committed.” Flicker’s words were a gutteral, furious whisper. “Every trespass, every act of cruelty, every callous act of abuse. Hennessy, you were very brave to have gone through with this. I’m proud of you.” “Do you mean that, Flicker?” Hennessy asked, opening his eyes and turning his head. “Hennessy, Flicker doesn’t strike me as the type who would say something and not mean it,” Piper replied as she leaned over the table and patted Hennessy’s hoof with her own. “I’m proud of you too. Just being in the same room as those Wardens made me want to wet myself. They’re scary.” “They’re supposed to be,” Flicker deadpanned. “Oh, I dunno… she was there with me through every moment of abuse pulled up out of my memory. She shared my pain. She knew… she knew… she felt it all and she didn’t shy away from it…” A single tear rolled down Hennessy’s cheek and splashed onto the worn formica tabletop. “Why would anypony do that to themselves? How many ponies like me has she helped? And other forms of abuse… I can’t imagine what a Warden must go through when helping a foal that’s been abused in… that way.” “They would make themselves feel every minute of it and then make certain that justice is dispensed.” Flicker was about to say something else, but was caught off guard when Hennessy grabbed him. The colt went rigid, unmoving, and his eyes widened in a slow, stunned manner as Hennessy squeezed him. “Don’t panic, Flicker, it’s just a hug. You really need to loosen up.” Piper began to stack sugarcubes into a little pyramid and she glanced up at Flicker for only a second, long enough to smile, then she looked down at her tiny pyramid. When Flicker didn’t loosen up, Piper rolled her eyes and let out a disgruntled huff. After a deep inhale, she told Flicker, “I swear, you need to be sorted out somehow.” “I have a plan to get better,” Flicker retorted. “Good.” Piper’s eyebrow rose. “Hennessy deserves somepony with some warmth after what he’s gone through. Plus, the two of you look adorable together like that, with him holding you. It’s rather heart warming.” Glaring at Piper, Flicker slipped one foreleg around Hennessy in a rather cold, but protective embrace, and he pulled the earth pony colt closer. Even though his expression did not change, Flicker noticed that Hennessy was soft, a bit warm, and it was pleasant enough to hold him. On the outside, nothing showed, but on the inside, a tiny flicker of light and warmth appeared as his brain catalogued all of these new sensations. It was like lighting a candle and leaving it to burn. The following morning… Miss Tweeny, who served the guild as both a maid and a teacher, had returned. She was a little thing, short of leg, hence her name of Teeny Tweeny, but Flicker knew better than to ever mention her first name after he had watched her dismantle an older student who thought teasing her might be fun. She was also the guild’s primary hoof to hoof combat instructor. The fussy looking unicorn mare prowled the room, waiting for a moment of slack so that she might strike. Flicker was studying for his candle exam, Piper was reading an introduction to toxins, and Hennessy was reading the dictionary, something which Miss Tweeny approved of. Flicker was taking careful notes—that was one of the tricks to his impressive memory, he wrote everything down until he remembered it. Hennessy lifted his head out of his book, looked over at Miss Tweeny, and then not knowing what to do, he raised his hoof to get her attention. Almost right away, she went over to him, leaned in close, and waited with a pleasant, patient expression. Hennessy pointed to something in his dictionary, and then looked at Miss Tweeny. “Pacifism,” Hennessy said to his teacher, looking and sounding apprehensive. “What about it?” Miss Tweeny replied. “Could I be a pacifist and still be a part of the guild?” Some new hope glimmered in Hennessy’s eyes as he spoke and he gave his teacher a pleading, begging stare. “I’ve been hurt so much and by so many. I don’t want to hurt others, I think I want to heal them and make them well.” Miss Tweeny smiled. “It is possible to obtain a pacifist’s writ and still work within the guild, but you would be expected to do a great deal more work to compensate.” “But, it’s possible?” Hennessy’s hopeful expression intensified. “It takes a very brave pony to be a pacifist.” Miss Tweeny reached out and touched Hennessy with her hoof. “Many will ridicule you, or call you a coward, there are those who will try to diminish you. It is quite difficult to walk the path of nonviolence.” Turning her head, the starchy little mare turned a hard, stony stare upon Flicker. “Some of us take a little too well to violence. A little bit of pacifism might even things out.” “Lord Death of Murder Mountain, I think she’s talking about you,” Piper remarked, her tone teasing. Flicker, scowling, ignored what was being said and continued to study. “Miss Pie, that was uncalled for.” Miss Tweeny gave Piper a disappointed look. “Somepony has to keep the pacifists safe. Goodness and kindness in our society must be defended, protected, and allowed to flourish. We are at war, Miss Pie, and it will be the pacifists who will be the quiet voices of reason that help us keep the moral high ground.” “Sorry.” Piper hung her head. “It is a bit of a joke between us. I’m actually quite fond of Mister Nicker and I don’t mean anything by it. He’s kept me safe, and I certainly wouldn’t disparage that.” Her eyes darted to the left, where Flicker was, then to the right, where Hennessy was, and then with a slow turn of her head, she looked over at the earth pony colt. “If I might ask, what brought this on?” “Last night,” Hennessy replied in a slow, sticky drawl, “hearing about Flicker wanting to go south and seek out justice himself. It left me thinking… he’s more suited to something like that, and I ain’t—” “Am not,” Miss Tweeny corrected. “Yeah.” Hennessy nodded to Miss Tweeny to acknowledge her correction, then continued, “It’s fine for Flicker to be how he is. It is part of what makes him who and what he is and I’ll not be one to judge that. The world is better for it. But for me… I want to make the world better, not worse.” Hennessy paused and shook his head. “Now, I ain’t saying—” “Am not.” “—am not saying that Flicker makes the world worse, ‘cause I don’t think he does, but I do think I would make the world worse, ‘cause I think I’d do it for all the wrong reasons. I’d give in to my pain, my anger, and all this bottled up hate that I have inside of me that needs to be sorted out. I might hurt somepony or something, and I might be doing the right thing even, but I’m afeared that I’d do it for the wrong reasons.” Miss Tweeny sighed and once more made a correction. “Afraid.” “Miss Tweeny, begging your pardon, but afeared is in the dictionary too, it’s an adjective and it is another way of saying afraid, also an adjective. I don’t think I was wrong, but if you insist that I am, I’ll go along with whatever you say.” Hennessy watched and waited for a reaction, but none came. All that happened was that Miss Tweeny’s lips pressed together into a straight, tight, puckered line. “Flicker is all about order and control,” Hennessy continued, “and I’m more of a free spirit. I tend to do whatever when the mood hits me, and if I learned how to hurt others, well, it scares me what I might do. Flicker can be trusted with the knowledge and the training, ‘cause he’s all mindful about what he’s doing all the time. I really don’t know how to fully express what I’m thinking, and this is just about the best I can do.” “Mister Nicker is disciplined and can be trusted that he won’t go waving his sword about willy-nilly, carving up innocent bystanders.” Miss Tweeny sat down in a chair beside Hennessy, leaned over, and placed one dainty hoof upon his foreleg. “Tell me, Mister Walker, are you a pony given to fits of temper?” Hennessy sat there, blinking, thinking about what Miss Tweeny had said. He looked down at her hoof, which was resting upon his foreleg, and then his eyes went unfocused as he zoned out. His ears fell, then bobbed a few times, and his nostrils flared. While he was slow to answer, he wasn’t as slow as Flicker could be. “I don’t reckon I’m a pony of ill temper,” Hennessy said in a hesitant, slow drawl, “but I do reckon I’m a pony of passion. I have my moods. That’s why my Pa called me a sissy, ‘cause I’d cry sometimes, or show my feelings, or show that I was hurt about something. I don’t keep things in, I tend to let them out as I experience them.” Sitting beside Hennessy, Miss Tweeny patted his leg with her own, gave the colt a smile, and said, “You know, I think we’ve learned enough for this morning. It will be eleven soon. Why don’t you find Doctor Sterling, and see if he’s heard anything about your mother… by the way, what is her name?” “Southern Comfort,” Hennessy replied. “Mister Walker, when you have some free time, could you write me an essay about what makes you passionate?” Miss Tweeny asked. The mare gave Hennessy’s fetlock a squeeze and looked him in the eye as she continued. “This will help your writing skills… and I bet that you are a budding writer just waiting to happen. Get your friends to help you.” The colt blushed. “Okay.” “In fact, essays from all of you. Reveal your passions to me.” Miss Tweeny looked concerned and she turned her head to give Flicker a stern glare. “Something not career related, Mister Nicker. Something you would not be ashamed to let your sister or mother read. Something pleasant and of good cheer.” Flicker’s face fell and for a second, he looked as though he was chewing on lemons. Making very little effort to stop herself, Piper began to giggle just a bit, and she fell silent in a hurry when Flicker turned to look at her. She stared up at the clock on the wall, squirming in her seat, and then Miss Tweeny chuckled. “Go on, all of you. Youth is wasted on the young.”