~*~
I stand at the fence of the Ponyville zoo and stare out across the open field wildlife exhibit. The last time I was here, you were at my side, pointing out different animals, laughing as you bought me a container of popcorn, telling me not to feed it to any of the creatures, like I was a young filly. It had been a lovely little date, and we'd spent a long time at this specific pen, just watching the animals move and graze at their leisure, talking about nothing important at all.
Throughout the enclosure, numerous species of herbivores feed and wander at will, any one of them potentially suited to your riddle. The whole walk over here, I’ve thought about what you might have been getting at, and the zoo at least seemed like a good place to start. The animals here, for the most part, are not from here but do live here year round. However, the longer I stare at these animals, the more I feel I’m on the wrong track entirely. This is probably a dead end.
As I’d thought back at home, it seems the only really telling part of the riddle is the section about it reminding you of home and welcoming you home at the same time. By this, do you mean your home on Earth? Your home in Ponyville? Could it be the first place you stayed when you got here, some other completely different thing I am missing? It feels like it should be obvious to me, I should know you well enough for this, but even now my brain just spins in empty, fruitless circles. What sort of animal welcomes you home?
You don’t have a dog, or that would seem to be an obvious answer. And also, how would seeing a dog remind you of home, if you were already home in the first place? By that logic, you could only be reminded of your home on Earth, by something that would also be in your home here in Equestria. The riddle suggests two homes, that much at least I have gotten. But you don’t own any pets, so where could this animal be hiding? My stomach gurgles in protest of life in general, and I press on it briefly, telling it to be quiet and praying it won’t start to hurt. Thankfully, it does as I request this time, but it still leads me no closer to any answers I’m seeking.
I pound my hoof in frustration on the fence, sending a shush my way from one of the animal keepers, and a flinch from a nearby gazelle. What am I not getting? This whole treasure hunt sounded a little fun earlier, but now I’m just kicking myself, unable to give this up. After all, you made this for me, I’d feel so absurdly ungrateful to give up on it this early into the game! If only I were more clever, like you are. If only you were here and we could do this game together somehow. But there’s no point in even thinking about that, I remind myself. You’re far away, and wishing for you to be by my side won’t make it any more real.
My eyes dart upwards, and my body tenses.
Wait. Wait a minute… real.
I’ve been assuming this was a live animal, a real animal, in flesh and blood this whole time. I know now that I have been on the wrong track entirely. You never said the animal “lived” here, just that it “is” here. Perhaps I had it half right after all! The animal is at your home, there to welcome you, but it’s not a pet or a companion. In fact, I have a hunch exactly what your clue means now.
With a smug smile, I turn away from the animal pen and point my hooves in the direction of the zoo exit. The animal keeper watches me as I go, and I feel her eyes suspicious and admonishing on me as I move. I try to hold my head high, and walk as normal, but I wonder if she can see I’ve lost a little weight since the last time I visited the zoo with you. Or that my face is a little more gaunt. Hopefully, her slitted gaze is just because she's upset that I made noise and spooked the animals, and she’s not trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. I always feel like ponies are doing that, but I’ve never had the guts to ask any of them about it, so I’m left with my suspicions and nothing more. I'm probably wrong, but that doesn't keep the feeling at bay.
~*~
Your small cottage near the North end of town stands isolated from many of the other buildings as I approach. Perhaps the ponies originally gave it to you because they were initially afraid of this strange new bipedal creature and didn't want it in their midst. Perhaps you preferred your privacy, and asked for it specifically. Either way, the house is unique, just as you are, and it makes me think of how easily you always stood out to me, even before we were together. You always fascinated me somewhat when I spotted you at The Two Bit bar, and even now, when I think of you, I can’t help feeling bewildered about how you ended up with some pony like me. I’m certainly not complaining, though.
Just as I’d expected, the answer to your riddle sits on your front porch, to the right of your door. I remember asking you about the little statue only once before, then I’d pretty much forgotten it existed at all. If I remember correctly, you'd had it made for you, a housewarming gift by a local crafts pony. It's not your favorite animal, but one of them at least, from a region not quite close to your home. It looks like a rabbit with a modified long tail, but you've assured me (rather aggressively) it's not one. It's bigger, faster, more interesting you tell me, and if Fluttershy ever gets one in for medical care or rehab, I really should go check it out. But don't mess with it, you told me, as I offered childishly to fight one for you, because it could probably kill me. We'd both laughed at the prospect of me being offed by some animal I knew little about, rather than what we know is actually killing me. I like our morbid sense of humor, but I suspect others would probably cringe at hearing us say things like that.
I smile down at the little statue, a miniature of the creature, you've told me, and lift it in my hooves. Underneath, a piece of paper quickly catches a passing breeze, and begins to flutter off of your porch towards the road. Adrenaline spikes in me as I reach for it and miss, and it moves farther from my grasp.
"Shit, fuck, no stop!" I snap as I put the statue heavily down and rush to stamp a hoof over the thing before it gets away.
After a few attempts, I manage it, panting with more the nervousness of missing a clue than the actual exertion of trying to catch it. Very carefully, I pick up the paper and open it, my breath coming out heavily as I try to compose myself. As I suspected and hoped, it's another written clue. If you'd been trying to give me the statue as a gift, I'll admit, I would have been pretty disappointed. It's cute but... not exactly useful for me.
Once upon a time, there was a human who just wanted to find a place to sleep. Unfortunately, he got punched instead, right in the chest. He's never recovered. And he never wants to.
Love,
Anon
This one only takes me a moment, but I linger over the last two little sentences anyway, liking the way they sound in your voice as I read them in my head. I hope you mean them. I know you wouldn't lie or anything like that, but I hope you mean every letter and every syllable the same way I feel them when I think about you. We love each other, I know, but alone like this, it's hard to not let the little voice in my head suggest that maybe we don't love each other the same way. Maybe I love you more, or maybe you only think you love me but you'll wake up one day to find you're mistaken. That little voice is wrong. It has to be. Everything we've said, felt, the way you can look at me and make me feel completely naked and a little afraid, but more than willing to look back... that can't be faked. What we have is real. It's just hard to go without it for this long.
Your play on words isn't too subtle, and I don't think you've meant it to be. You're thinking back to when we were at Applejack's party, and you stumbled inside to find a place to rest away from all the noise. Little did you know that sober Berry Punch had already claimed that bed. We'd had a battle of wits, we'd talked, and then, out of the blue, we'd had sex. It had been everything I wanted and needed, and maybe even then I'd known I was in love with you. We'd felt a certain connection between us, a compulsion, one that made perfect sense and was still baffling to me. And now we were here. Well, now I was here.
The problem with this was that there was a bed, inside the Apple farmhouse, where all this had happened. If you'd left the clue there, what was I supposed to do? Oh, don't mind me Applejack, just passing through, can I go riffle through your guest bed? Why? Because I fucked Anon there about half a year ago, and he might have left me a note or a present or something on the exact spot we'd done it. Because that's something normal couples do, right?
Somehow, I don't think that would fly.
Maybe I could say I need a place to lie down again? Maybe I could make some sort of excuse to come inside and then "get lost" looking for the bathroom? I let out a long, exasperated sigh, and put this new paper in my bag along with the others. Again, it seems the only thing is to go there and see what I can do. With any luck, no one will be home, and I can sneak through a window or something. And not get arrested. That would be a fine thing for you to come home to, wouldn't it? That your treasure hunt had put me behind bars?
I turn towards the Apple's farm, a nice little walk from here. At least you're helping me get my exercise, I think to myself. Even if you are putting me at risk of becoming a felon.
~*~
Against all my hopes, I see that Granny Smith is out in front of the Apple home, sweeping up the porch and humming a tune to herself. I swear quietly to myself as I approach, knowing that things probably just got a lot more difficult. Now I'll have to make an excuse to get in, or maybe say I left something there. Maybe I could fake a fainting spell, so I have to lie down, or maybe...
Granny Smith looks up from her chores and spies me. Her eyes narrow as she tries to recognize me, and I freeze, somehow feeling scrutinized under her gaze. Oh god, does she know? She knows, doesn't she. I should greet her, act normal! But I feel like a criminal all of a sudden, caught in the act, and all I can do is just dumbly stand there. At last, her face brightens with recognition, and she waves at me.
"Why Miss Berry Punch, I thought that was you!" she says brightly. "Bring yer pretty little self over here! I got something for you. "
Okay. Well. That's unexpected.
As I walk to the porch, Granny Smith goes inside for a moment, then comes back out with a big grin on her face, a slip of paper, and a glass of water. She thrusts the two objects at me, still smiling. When I don't take them, still a little confused as to what is happening so quickly here, she winks at me and speaks.
"Anon stopped by here a few days ago, gave me this for you. Said ye'd be droppin' by today most likely, and that I should give it to you if that happened."
"Oh, uh..." I say haltingly. "That's... very nice of you to hold onto that for me."
She nods as I take the slip of paper from her. So, you anticipated all this and had a plan for it? Of course you did, I should have expected nothing less, but I'm still surprised you roped in Granny Smith on this rather than Applejack. Why Granny? She probably ran a risk of forgetting the paper altogether given her age.
"Don't rightly know what it's all about, but he said it's sorta like a scavenger hunt, and that this place was one of the clues. Might I guess it was a hint havin' to do with apples, farmin', or plowin' somehow?"
"...You might say that."
She smiles smugly and nods once more.
"I thought so. Always was good at them riddles and the like."
"Well, thank you. I appreciate you helping out with this, then, I'll just be-"
Before I can move away, she holds up a hoof to stop me, and again offers me the glass of water. I give her a polite smile and mime a 'no thank you,' but she doesn't move it away.
"I'm not thirsty, but thanks," I say, to impress the point.
"Anon told me that if you came by," Granny Smith says sternly. "Especially after noon, that you should remember to take yer vitamins. I take those every mornin' but I dunno, maybe there's some new fangled kind you gotta take in the afternoon now too."
My pills. You've instructed her, subtly enough, to remind me to take my meds, which, admittedly I am overdue for. Maybe that's why you picked her to give me the note, she doesn't seem the type to ask questions about what the pills are for, or why I'd need a reminder. Honestly, she's probably be a good drug mule, in another weirder darker situation. Applejack would probably get too suspicious, or figure out something was wrong with me. Either way, it's infuriating you know me well enough to give her a reminder to pass along when I came. Still, I have to thank you for that. I probably would have forgotten in all this excitement.
Begrudgingly, I take the water from her and again give her a polite smile.
"Ah, good thinking," I say, trying to keep the annoyance out of my tone. "Thanks I appreciate that."
I turn away and fish a pair of pills, one salt tablet for good measure, out of my bag, then down them quickly with a swig of the water so that Granny won't spot the prescription bottle and ask for an explanation. I finish the water as well because, heck, it's been a bit of a long walk. And who knows how much farther I have to go. When I turn to face Granny, she takes back the cup then continues to stare expectantly at me for a moment. I don't know what she's waiting for, did you give her some other instructions for me? At last she gives an exasperated sigh and speaks.
"Well go on now, what's it say?" she says excitedly.
Ah. The clue. I can't easily duck out of this one, so I can only hope that you were careful not to include anything too lurid in this hint. And she was nice to do all this to help with your treasure hunt. We probably do owe her this much. I unfold the paper and mentally wipe my brow in relief at seeing no expletives or lewd language on it. At least... I don't think it's dirty sounding. The meaning on the other hand...
Even before I'd met you, or even seen your face, I knew you were the sort of mare who could have a good time. The writing was on the wall, you were always a party pony.
Love,
Anon
As soon as I finish reading the clue out loud, Granny Smith claps her hooves together and gives a triumphant little cry.
"Ah, I think I got that one!" she exclaims.
"Oh?"
"Well of course! It mentions the words 'party pony,' and ain't but one of those in town. It's obviously talking about Pinkie Pie, over at Sugarcube Corner! You head over there and I'm sure she'll be greetin' you with the next clue."
She pats me confidently on the shoulder, and I give her the warmest smile I can manage.
"Hey, that's a pretty good thought," I tell her. "Maybe I'll give it a shot. Thanks for all the help again."
"Atta girl. Hope you find whatever prize's at the end soon!" she calls out, as I turn towards the road. "You come back and visit now anytime!"
I wait until I'm a good distance away from the porch before I again glance at the clue. Granny Smith's guess is a good one, but I get the feeling that you're pointing me in a completely different direction. The term 'writing on the wall' isn't usually an idiom that's an indication of something good. It's an ominous sign, a hint that failure is ahead. It's out of place in this little note of yours, so I suspect it has a different meaning or purpose in here. I wouldn't have even known that idiom bit, except for when I misused it in front of Cheerilee that one time, as I told you about. She'd corrected me so fast, damn teachers and their persnickety language rules...
In fact, the more I think about it, the more I'm sure that Cheerilee has something to do with this little riddle. The pieces begin to link together in my head quickly, as I remember an embarrassing bit of trivia from my younger, wilder days, one I don't think I ever told you.
Cheerilee and I had been friends when we were still getting near the end of school. That was when I'd first started drinking, first going to bars. Even though Cheerilee was studying to become a teacher, she had a pretty wild streak herself, and she really let loose when we were together. One night, we'd been out at my favorite bar and she'd had a little too much to drink. She got up to go to the bathroom, and when she'd come back, she'd had this huge, dumb, smug smile on her face. I'd asked her what was so funny, and she said she'd wandered into the wrong bathroom by mistake, but had decided to stay since it was empty. I'd laughed with her... until she told me that she'd 'left her mark' there, so to speak, and that I should thank her later.
It wasn't until a few days had passed that I'd started being approached by stallions asking if I was Berry Punch and if I wanted to go out with them or have a drink with them. I didn't catch on at first, but Cheerilee had later sheepishly confessed (and repeatedly apologized) as to what she had done. I'd outlived that particular little reputation ruiner, and I'd be lying if I said that I'd never taken advantage of any of the opportunities it presented me with. Given that you and I had frequented the same bar, even before we'd met, it stood to reason that you'd seen what Cheerilee had left behind.
I sigh and roll my eyes as I realize this is exactly what you're indicating. To be honest, I have no desire to go back to that bar. It seems cruel that you'd make me. There's so much wine there, beer, old happy fun times to think about. And to do it alone, without you? Probably the most cruel thing you've done with this little hunt. Never mind that it's pretty much right across the street from the hospital, so I'll have to endure that place looming down at me, whispering 'see you again soon.'
Still, as you probably expected, my curiosity drives me on. I put the paper in my bag with the other slips and turn my steps in the direction of my favorite old watering hole, The Two Bit. With any luck, no one from the old days is working today, and I'll be able to slip in and out unnoticed.
~*~
"Why Berry Punch, as I live and breathe!" Bourbon Barrel exclaims as I walk through the front door. "I haven't seen you in what feels like forever. How the heck you been?"
Excellent. Someone who knows me. This isn't at all what I'd hoped for, but as far as bartenders I know go, Bourbon Barrel is one of the easier ones I could have run into. He's always had that big jolly uncle feel, the kind of guy who when he asks how you are, you get the feeling he really cares about your answer. He's older, mostly grey in his mane and tail, and his eyebrows have always grown a little wild in that mad scientist kind of way. His body is a pastel grey-blue as well, making his whole form look like the backs of ocean waves on a cloudy day. In another life, I suspect he was some old fisherman, and far more grumpy than he is at the bar. What's more, he was always gentle with me when I was overdoing it around here. He made sure I got home safely, and that I never made too much of a mess. He's intrusive with his questions sometimes, sure, but harmless. I suppose it could be worse.
"Hey B.B." I mumble, hating the way the three other ponies in the bar instantly look up in my direction. "Been good, been doing good."
"You've been gone a long time, what have you been up to?"
I shrug.
"Oh, just this and that, got a new boyfriend, been at home a lot. Just the usual."
Bourbon Barrel cracks a knowing smile and gives a sharp nod, before following it up with a wink.
"Ah, I got ya, that Anon fellow, right?"
Has news really gotten around that quickly about us? I mean, I'm not exactly complaining, I'm just surprised that anyone would take that much interest in my life. It feels... weird. Given how much I've stayed inside lately, I wouldn't have been surprised if ponies had pretty much forgotten about me.
"Y-yeah," I stammer out. "That's the one."
"You always were one to take interest in odd sorts of folk. But heck, if he makes you happy, no judgement here. Can I get you anything? Something to drink? A snack? An ear for listening?"
"That's okay," I say, waving him off good naturedly. "Actually, I was hoping I could use your bathroom? I know it's supposed to be customers only, but-"
"Berry," he says quickly. "For you, I'd always consider you a customer, even if you didn't come in here for the next decade. Our bathrooms are your bathrooms, have at. Still remember where they are?"
I let out a little laugh.
"Yeah, I doubt I'll forget that any time soon. I spent enough time on the floor in there."
It's the truth, though not a pretty one, but neither of us takes it as too gross or morbid a joke. He gives a little laugh as well, as I sidle past him and try to slip unnoticed towards the two bathroom doors. When I'm sure he's not looking my way, engrossed in cleaning the glasses in front of him, I quickly step into the men's bathroom and pull the door quietly shut behind me.
I call a soft 'hello?' but I hear no sign of anyone else here with me in the bathroom. Thankfully, I won't have to explain my presence in this forbidden land to anyone, as long as I act fast. I make my way down the line to the third sink against the wall, then swiftly crouch down beside it on the left. Sure enough, as I run my hoof over the under side of the bowl, I feel the scratch marks where Cheerilee shoddily carved out the words "For a good time, see Berry Punch, party pony." Except...
My hoof pauses where the letters are supposed to be. It doesn't feel right, it doesn't feel like real words are even written there anymore. I lower my head to take a look, and to my shock, I see a series of gouges back and forth across the words so that they're no longer legible. What also meets my gaze is a small white square against the wall, pinned between the sink bowl and the tile behind it. I tug it free of its hiding place, and feverishly open it up to read.
The past is the past, we can let it stay dead. Instead, let's look to the future ahead. If you've done all this quickly and it's not gotten late, go to the spot where we had our first date.
Love,
Anon
Couldn't resist doing one in a rhyme, could you? I can't help but grin a little and shake my head at the thought of you getting into the poetic spirit with this.
So, you'd destroyed what I'd thought was a permanent record of me being in this bar. While I feel as though I should be mad, as if this was my immortality somehow, I also can't help but feel relieved instead. Ponies had long since stopped approaching me asking me for 'good times,' but knowing it was here still felt like this bar owned a part of me. That even if I had been sober for this long, there was some remnant of me here, a brand on the bar and a brand on me. It made this place feel like the bar haunted me, nipping at the back of my steps. Now? It's a little freeing. You know, despite the fact that I'm standing in a stallion's bathroom.
Remembering my current location, I place the paper with the others and quickly step back into the bar. It's an easy bit of riddle you left me, and I know that our first real date was to the pond, by the willow tree. It's, again, a short walk from here, but by the way you put it, it sounds like I might finally be reaching the end of this little game of yours. Besides, its not late at all, it's barely afternoon! I have plenty of time before sunset, all I need to do is...
My brain stops working as I catch Bourbon Barrels eyes fixed on me where I stand in front of the Stallion's bathroom door. He slowly raises one bushy grey eyebrow at me, and the corner of his mouth crinkles into a smile.
"I.... uh..." I stammer out, unable to think of literally any way at all to explain this.
All at once, he lets out a hearty, belly laugh.
"Ah, don't you worry yourself," he says as me meanders in my direction behind the bar. "Anon told me you might be coming in at some point over the next few days, and that you'd probably go to the stallion's restroom. Wouldn't tell me why, but then I don't suppose it's much of my business. Also told me that I shouldn't give you any alcohol, but also said you wouldn't ask for any. Figured out a possible reason for that one, though. Might explain some things. If it's alright with my asking, have you gone sober on us, Berry?"
As I said, he can be a bit intrusive sometimes. I feel my cheeks flush at how much information you've given him, and how careful you've been in concocting this whole adventure. The question is a rather pointed one, but with how long it's been, and with how things have happened... is it really so bad to tell this old drinking buddy that I'm off the stuff? Will he be mad? Judge me? Be disappointed? Question me further? It's hard to say for sure, but I'm here, and I'm in this situation right now. It's as good a time as any to tell someone, and Bourbon Barrel isn't that horrible a pony to tell.
"Yeah," I say haltingly. "Haven't had a drink in over six months now. Closer to a year sober I think, I'm trying not to keep track."
There's a moment of silence as Bourbon Barrel looks me up and down appraisingly. Then, all at once, he breaks out into a wide smile.
"Well now!" he beams. "This calls for a celebration! Let's have a toast shall we?"
"Uh, B.B. I think you may have missed the concept of the word 'sober.'"
"Oh come on, have a little faith in me," he says with a scoff, reaching under the bar for something. "I make mixed drinks too, you know, and that means I have plenty of non alcoholic stuff to share. Let me buy you a round, we'll catch up for a moment."
Before I can say anything, he swiftly produces a pair of tumblers and pours a splash of deep purple grape juice into each one. The sight of him pouring me a drink feels homey to me somehow, like the touch of a familiar hand. But it's different this time, lacking the kind of hunger and urgency it had in days and years before. He doesn't just feel like my bartender right now. It's... oddly nice.
"I really should be going," I try to protest.
"Nonsense, you can take ten or fifteen minutes can't ya? I need to tell you about my new grandkid anyway."
I blink. I knew he was old, but that old?
"Grandkid?"
"Yep, I'm a pappy now, would you believe it? Besides, you look like you could use someone to talk to, even being in this place looks to make you uneasy."
Then, he drops his voice to a near whisper and leans across the bar towards me as he passes me the drink. His face softens from its usual happy bravado, and he speaks to me very earnestly.
"You don't ever have to have another alcoholic drink in here, you know. I'll never even let any of our bartenders pour you one, permanent new bar rule. But I'm always here to just talk, if you like. Quitting the sauce, just like that, can leave you a little isolated. Don't want to let you end up all shut up in your house alone."
I stare into his face, and watch as it again creases and folds itself back into the usual smile. I feel the pressure of the glass of grape juice against my hoof, and after a moment, I take it and pull it towards me. Did you know, I wonder, that he'd ask me to stay and have a drink? Did you tell him that he should give me a little much needed company, so I wouldn't feel so alone? If you did, I do want to thank you for that, even if it's presumptuous. Because until that moment, I hadn't realized how lonely I'd felt. Not just for you, but for anyone. I miss my bar friends, I miss my old haunts, and I feel a prisoner, kept away from those things in order to avoid temptation. Then again, maybe you didn't tell him anything, maybe he just knew. After all, Bourbon Barrel had always been gentle with me. Maybe that was just the way he was, even before when I'd been too drunk to notice.
I find myself smiling back at him then, fighting down feelings of tears in my throat. I've missed him. I've missed having a life outside of the sick and outside of the sober. And that much I'm pretty sure you did know. That's why you forced me out of the house today, gave me some reason to brave the world. I always knew you were a clever one, and you've certainly proved it now.
I take a quick glance out the window, and still see the sun high in the sky. Your adventure is calling me, and I'm still curious what it is you've got waiting for me at the end of the trail. But it's been a busy day so far. I can take a rest, a break, maybe for half an hour or so. If I'm honest, I think I really need it.
"What the heck," I say as I pull up a stool. "Sounds like we have a lot to catch up on."
~*~