//------------------------------// // Chapter 26 // Story: Spring Broke // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Before Copperquick could fully emerge from the bathroom, he was ambushed by Buttermilk. One front hoof hooked onto the back of his neck while the other rubbed his cheek, and she stood on her hind hooves, with a look in her eye that left him feeling weak in the knees. She moved in, closer, closer, and somehow closer still, until her snoot was a hair’s breadth away from his. Her eyes—hazel-green—were bewitching, but her words were even more so. “I am so very much in love with you,” she breathed, and he could feel her hot breath against his nose. “You’ve done wrong, but now you strive to do right. You’re fighting to be the father that Esme deserves. One day, I might give you a few foals. We’ll have to wait and see, but I’ve already made up my mind that I want you. It wasn’t a mistake to feed you cheese toast.” With a furious blush that turned his copper cheeks a dusky, ruddy brown, Copperquick stood in silence, spellbound by Buttermilk’s sexual allure. The muscles around his dock went tight, his cheek blazed beneath the pegasus maid’s hoof, and his earth pony senses demanded that he take action, right now, this instant, at this very moment. His brain suggested that he yank this mare into the bathroom with him, and he struggled, because now was not the time. “Before this trip is over”—she continued while she brought her wings into play and started to tickle Copperquick with them—“we’re going to do a little butter churning. I’m not going back to Canterlot until I’ve made you mine.” Waggling her eyebrows, her hoof slid from Copperquick’s cheek and she pressed it over his lips, silencing any potential replies. “And no Copper-Quickie. Butter churning is a long, involved process, so be prepared for a lot of hot, sweaty effort and hard work.” From behind Buttermilk’s hoof, Copperquick let out a bellowing whinny. “Seville awaits… go do the right thing, Copperquick…” The kitchen was now a fragrant haven, a wonderful, mystical, magical place that made Copperquick think of home. Thinking of home made him think of Buttermilk in a most peculiar way, and he thought of how he needed to sort out his living situation somehow so that he would have a place to call home with her. It was a powerful need resonating within his very core, to do right, to do well, to provide, to have a home and family. It stood out in sharp contrast to the wanderlust that had motivated him to leave home and find his fortune elsewhere. Mighty Midge was still holding Esmeralda, making Copperquick feel a pang of jealousy to see his daughter’s face buried in the pegasus’ neck. Butter Fudge had a bright red burn on her nose where something had bubbled up out of a pot on the stove and had landed. This, of course, hadn’t improved her mood at all, and she appeared to be quite cross, if not outright grumpy. A jittery apprehensiveness had settled over him once more and Copperquick consoled himself by thinking of Buttermilk. It was a peculiar state of affairs though, as he wanted to do so much more than have a good tumble on the bed with her—what he really wanted was a cementing of their relationship, something that would guarantee permanence. Since becoming a father, he had endured all manner of strange, disturbing instincts, as well as a total shift in his values. This was something more than just mere growing up and gaining maturity; but what it was exactly was impossible to say. A powerful compulsion, something that felt almost magical at times. The nerdy little librarian-looking pony had just talked dirty to him, and had set his brain on fire. “Supper is almost done, if you want to hold off on your interview for a while,” Butter Fudge said to everypony in the kitchen. “Oi, made a few desserts, too. Midge has to be hungry.” The big mare shuffled on her hooves a bit, sniffled, licked her sore, blistered nose with her tongue, and then said to Seville, “Don’t you worry about it getting late. You can sleep on the couch, if you’d like, Mister Orange. I’m sorry for my earlier outburst, something about a stranger on my land rubbed me wrong. I suppose I’m feeling territorial and protective due to Esmeralda, but then again. I’ve never taken too kindly to trespassers under the best of circumstances.” “I understand,” Seville replied with his ears held low. “And I thank you for your gracious hospitality.” “Right. Good then.” Butter Fudge let out a snort of relief while focusing her stare upon her daughter. “Beezy, set the table.” “Sure thing! Right away!” All too happy to oblige, Buttermilk rushed to do her mother’s bidding. Copperquick’s mouth watered when Buttermilk plopped a spoonful of butter-drenched green beans onto his plate. This was followed up by tiny cabbages and a ladle full of cheese gravy. Potatoes au gratin made up the bulk of the meal and Copperquick couldn’t wait to devour the crispy, chewy pieces that like alchemy, had formed along the edge while it had baked. Then to top it all off, Butter Fudge had made butter fudge for desert, and it had a scrumptious look about it. Leaning over to one side to be closer to Seville, Mighty Midge had much to say: “I can’t help but notice that orange press of yours. That seems specific, it does, and I’m curious as to why you’re not embracing it. No offense meant, I’m actually quite impressed that you’d have enough nerve to do such a thing. Beezy, she never paid much nevermind to her butter churn, and just look at her go.” His eyes bulging at all of the food before him, Seville did not look at Mighty Midge when he responded, “Any pony can tell the truth. It is not a trait exclusive to a mark, but rather, something we have to work and strive for. I aim to tell the truth, even if it kills me.” “I have to confess…” Mighty Midge drew out his words while he squirmed in his seat. “My daughter, she challenged everything I thought I knew. In the spirit of honesty, I thought that Beezy would come home from school wrecked and broken from bucking the system. I mighta kinda sorta thought that she’d find all of the work impossible. I mean, she has a butter churn. It is not a mark that is conducive to higher education. A mark like that… I thought that whatever mystical force had given her that mark would bring her home, sort her out, and she’d have a happy life making butter. I am completely baffled as to how things worked out different.” Lifting her hoof, Butter Fudge said, “Midge—” “Everything I thought I knew has been challenged. I’m a bit shook up about it, maybe even a little upset about it, but being a father, I am also sorta happy that my daughter is happy, even if I don’t understand a thing about her and she’s become a stranger to me.” Mighty Midge’s eyes glanced in Buttermilk’s direction for a few brief seconds, and then he returned his gaze to Seville once more. “Also, that interview from earlier… it has left me shaken and a bit upset. I have this strange feeling that ponies like me might be part of the problem.” “Midgy?” “Copperquick here, he’s trying to do everything he can to change the world so his daughter benefits,” Mighty Midge continued while ignoring the way his wife was staring at him. “And here I am, thinking that the world was fine as it was and I’ve done my part to keep it from changing. Looking back on everything, I let Butter Fudge do all of the foal rearing. Well, almost all of it. I did most of my fathering here, at home. And if I am to be completely honest, a part of me deeply resented Beezy for choosing to do something other than homemaking. I thought she had joined those nutters that wish to tear down our great society, our family values, and tear apart everything just for the sake of change, even if things aren’t broken. Course, I have everything I want in life, more or less, so the world doesn’t feel too broken to me. But after hearing everything that Copperquick had to say, it feels wrong to deny it.” “You resented me?” Buttermilk’s voice could only be described as ‘icy’ from Copperquick’s point of view, and the prim little pegasus mare squared her steely gaze upon her father. “You resented me? You resented me? Let me tell you something, if there is a mess in this country, it is because your generation made it worse! Copper and I are stuck cleaning it up. We didn’t make this system, and you didn’t either, but you have damn sure profited from it! And you made sure that the rules stayed rigged so others wouldn’t profit! All of the checks and balances necessary for a healthy system to maintain equilibrium, you called it radical leftism and you tarred and feathered it every chance you got! Anything that might have helped the system, anything that might have fixed it, you badmouthed it and made a mockery of it!” Ears drooping, Mighty Midge nodded. “I did.” Biting her lip, Buttermilk’s ears made many random pivots and rotations, until at last she reached a breaking point. Leaping out of her chair, she landed with a clatter on the floor, turned tail, and then marched for the back door. During the commotion, Esmeralda woke up, and perhaps sensing something wasn’t right, the little filly sounded off like an alarm klaxxon to let everypony around her know that something was wrong. The backdoor slammed after Buttermilk’s hasty departure, and Copperquick could only think that her supper was going to get cold. Sighing, he too rose from his chair, because his daughter needed him, and he heard Mighty Midge let out a sigh. His own supper was going to get cold and there was nothing he could do about it. Dragging his hooves along the floor, he went over to where his daughter lay upon her blanket to get her sorted out. The truth was a dangerous thing, or so Copperquick reasoned. Holding his daughter in his forelegs, he tried to reach around her with his neck so that he could nibble from his plate. Esmeralda seemed to be inconsolable at the moment, so he let her cry and slap away upon him. The little cabbages could only be eaten when hot, and these were rapidly becoming warm. Past a certain point, they would be inedible. In a birdlike fashion, Mighty Midge pecked at his food, his expression unreadable. To say that he looked sorrowful or miserable was inadequate. Butter Fudge, who had been burned while cooking supper and was in a lousy mood, she ate her food in silence while giving her husband furtive glances. “I had always believed that the system worked.” Mighty Midge pushed his plate away. “Sure, it had some issues, but I believed that it worked overall. From this little island in this great big delta, with the newspapers that we get, everything sure seemed fine. I supported punitive measures for fathers who cut and run. I supported a lot of things that seemed like good ideas at the time. But after having met Copperquick, and after having that long talk with Beezy, I’m not so sure about anything, anymore. Beezy isn’t a frivolous sort… I didn’t raise her to be that way. It was something I pounded into her head, to be practical and straightforward. And if she is this upset about everything… these can’t be made up problems or minor problems just blown out of proportion. Beezy has thrown her entire life into fixing these problems and getting ponies to see that something is wrong.” “Do you feel better for having been honest?” Seville asked, his voice low and his posture submissive and unassuming. At this, Mighty Midge’s eyes went wide, he drew in a deep breath, and his cheeks bulged, forming crinkles around the corners of his eyes. His ears rose, fell, rose again, and then went limp as he opened his mouth and deflated. “I don’t know. My daughter is upset with me. And for good reason, too. I’m not about to disrespect that—” “What she’s doing is disrespectful,” Butter Fudge muttered, cutting her husband off. Raising himself to his full, unimpressive height, the little blue pegasus’ nostrils flared and his sadness was replaced with something that looked an awful lot like anger. “You’re wrong, Butter Fudge… and don’t you dare make me say it again.” “She could have at least behaved herself with company over—” “Shut up, Butter Fudge.” Mighty Midge’s voice was filled with gravel and his ears angled forwards over his eyes. “You’re guilty too. You cried and boohooed your little eyes out when you realised that Beezy wasn’t going to be a homemaker. Sure, you did right by her, and you pushed her towards what she wanted, but you also did a lot of bitching and complaining. Of course, I did it right along with you. Do you think she’s wrong? Do you? Do you want to march yourself out to the barn where’s she’s hiding and tell her to her face that she’s wrong?” “Oh, sod off, Midgy! You don’t get to be high and mighty and self-righteous right now!” “Neither do you.” “Why don’t you tell her what you said to me last night in the bed, Midgy? About how everything would be so much better if she hadn’t’ve left home and got infected with all those ideas of hers? That everything would’ve been fine if she had just stayed at home and stuck with what she knew? Feeling brave, Midgy? Tell the whole truth! Say it to her face!” The little blue pegasus seemed to double in size, his feathers fluffing, and every hair on his coat now seemed to stand on end. “That was before everything I heard today. Butter Fudge, we don’t have the moral high ground here. Beezy didn’t get infected with strange ideas, she saw the world beyond our isolated little island. This is our fault—” “How the bloody fronk is this our fault?” Butter Fudge demanded while her eyes narrowed into aggressive slits. “We told her how we thought the world should be rather than how it is!” Mighty Midge snapped in return. “We failed her! She had to leave home to learn all of this stuff, and this is important stuff! Stuff she should have learned from us! But I have the distinct feeling that we’ve had our heads up our asses! We blew it, Butter Fudge… we blew it. We failed. Beezy had to go elsewhere to be a better pony, because we failed to do it here at home.” Shoving her plate away, Butter Fudge scowled at her husband, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spilled out of her chair. Then, with a snort, she turned away, flicked her tail in his direction, and stormed out of the kitchen, almost stepping on the cat, who wasn’t motivated nearly enough to get out of the way in time. The sound of heavy, stomping hooves could be heard on the stairs, and each thump made Mighty Midge’s ears twitch. With Esmeralda squalling just inches from his ear, Copperquick continued to try and eat his supper.