To be quite honest, they were right. I wasn't going to be able to run away forever, especially trying to run away from ponies. I mean, come on, they can run for ages! God knows how much stamina they have when compared to a human, but at least I was physically fit to sprint for some time. Except I'd been doing it all day yesterday. My legs were burning, my feet were sore, and all I wanted to do was just sit in a nice warm bath and soak.
But nope, that wasn't gonna happen. Every time I thought I was getting further and further away from them I could hear the heavy clopping of galloping hooves constantly behind me, never fading. In fact I could hear them getting closer from time to time, picking up pace and catching up to me on the straights. The only thing that kept them from catching me was me being able to turn corners a lot better than they could.
Through the streets and past the houses I ran, dodging into alleyways and vaulting waist-high barriers and fences whenever I had to. Over one of them the torso of my waist-bound top got caught on the tops of the wooden planks, with the time taken to unhinge it just letting Twilight and Rarity close the gap on me.
I had run out of alleyways to duck into. I was now in, what I would guess to be, the shopping district for lack of a better term for it. Supply stores, candy shops, market stalls set up along the sidewalks… It was just a huge open area with nowhere to hide. Unless in this place the shop owners didn't mind me diving over their counters like I was Captain America.
"We've got you now, Summers," cried out Rarity from behind me, her voice echoing through the district. Some of the shopkeepers and stall-runners turned their gaze to us. "Now if you'll just come with us quietly, we'll make things a lot less difficult for you. Okay?" Her voice was calm, collected, even a little sultry. But her stone cold glare and orcish-like furrowed brow betrayed her disguised tone for something more sinister.
And I definitely wasn't going to be the outlet for it.
Every step I took was starting to slow me down. Fatigue was setting in, and muscles were starting to cramp all over. My lungs became heavy, and every breath became a wheeze. My chest felt like someone was pressing both hands down on it, aching with every inhale. I had no choice but to cause… distractions.
The deeper into the avenue I was chased, I began to see more and more stalls, entering into some sort of market. As much as I hated to do it, I did whatever I could to slow the two wrathful ponies that were getting so much closer to my heels. Knocked over standing signs, tossed baskets of fruit, scattered chains of jewellery, even tossed stuffed plushies of weird yet whimsical creatures that I would only see in some cutesy version of a Monster Manual. For the most part it worked, despite the cries and protests and of all of the owners of the merchandise I had no doubt made unsellable. One of them even called me a "rapscallion". I hadn't heard that word used in a while. It didn't help that I ended up getting smushed bananas on the soles of my shoes. Cleaning that stuff off was gonna be a real pain.
But despite what I did, they always ended up catching up to speed. In fact, the only thing I really did was make them even more angry. Even more determined. Even more loud as they slung casual obscenities at me from several meters behind me for everyone to hear. I couldn't help but take particular offense to Rarity called me an "uncouth vandalising slug". Though to be fair, I only took offense to the 'slug' part.
I was starting to reach the end of the market, with only a couple of market stalls left to either side. Ahead was an open expanse, like a town square. From there, I had nowhere to duck, nowhere to hide, nowhere to run, and I didn't really fancy throwing other ponies in my way—I was already in deep enough trouble as it was.
I glanced around, trying to find anything of use. Then it hit me like a freight train. The back of the awnings on the market stalls were not fastened, but rather just stretched out like a bed sheet, held on the front in a similar manner from thin, bamboo-like poles. I began to slow down as I reached the last two stalls.
I had a cunning plan. Which probably wasn't actually that cunning, in hindsight.
"We've got you now!" cried Twilight, her breath heavy and rugged.
"Accept your fate, Summers!" followed Rarity, her eyes ablaze with tenacity. Her choice of words didn't make her sentiments any the sweeter either.
I waited for them to get a little closer, as close as I dared allowed them. I sprung my plan into action. Outstretching my right arm, and grasped one of the poles holding the awning up, and yanked it from the top of the stall, flinging it like a flag down onto the two of them. The edges of the cloth tangled their legs and made them trip up as it covered them, making them tumble into a ball of fur and pastel colours. I swung around and grabbed the pole from the opposite awning, and flung that down on top of them too, giving them an extra layer for them to fight through.
With that done, I ran out from the district and into the square beyond. All around were ponies minding their own business, though a select few stopped to gawk at me and my dirt-covered clothing. I hadn't the time to give them any attention when I was already running for my life from it. I scanned around the place, looking for somewhere to go. I didn't see it before, but I noticed a large building just down the way—taller than the other houses, decorated like a giant birthday cake. With the time that I bought myself, I made it there with quick haste.
Sugarcube Corner, the hanging sign read. Looked like a bakery. I could lose them here.
I burst through the door, though thankfully, as much as it looked like a six foot wafer, it wasn't as thin as one. A bell above me jingled to signal the entrance of a new customer, though the banging of wood against plaster gave ample enough signal that I had just barged in like I owned the place.
A cry came from a pony behind the counter as they sharply turned, holding a pie tin in her hooves. Thankfully she didn't drop it. A light blue pony with dual shades of pink hair and tail swirled like tipped icing on a cake. I had to remind myself that it wasn't real icing as I amused the thought of nibbling on it just to see if it tasted like strawberry. Dehydration and exhaustion can do that to you.
She stared at me, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. Not surprising considering a near six-foot bipedal shaved monkey just stumbled in like he was escaping a zombie apocalypse. But after a moment, she just placed the pie tin on the counter and smiled, her expression softening as though she was greeting one of her regulars. Professionalism at its finest.
"Hello there!" she greeted with a great amount of cheer. "What can I do ya for"—I ran at the counter as she spoke, vaulting over the top of it and hiding behind the wooden back of it, curling into a seated prone position with my upper back against the panel. I had accidentally knocked over the tin too, splattering cherry pie across the tiles—"H-hey! What do ya think you're doing? And you ruined my pie!"
Before I could even say sorry, the bell tolled. The door swung open almost with as much force as I did.
"Sorry to disturbed you, Mrs. Cake," a voice called out. Girly, calm, sweet… rugged. I recognized that voice anywhere, but how did she know where I went? As I stared across the floor in front of me, I noticed pale yellow gunk lining the edges of my shoes. Darn it, I must had left a trail of smushed bananas all the way here!
"Have you seen someone come by here?" another voice asked. Rarity was with her too, her tone as sweet as a nut. If only they were always like that.
"Tall. Skinny. Looks like a shaved monkey." Hey, come on, I made that joke first.
"Dirty, unfashionable clothes." They're only dirty because you keep chasing me!
"Hair that looks like a dried up two month old mop." Now that's just rude.
She gazed at me from the corner of her eye. "Um, I—" I shook my head, and held a finger up to my nose. There was a pause before she looked back at the two across from her with an awkward smile "—Nope! Sorry, girls, I haven't seen anything like that! Nope, not at all!" She gave a nervous chuckle. How convincing.
Twilight sighed. "Okay. Sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Cake."
"If you do see him, could you tell Pinkie Pie and have her let us know?" added Rarity. She was so vigilant, even Batman would be jealous.
"I will do, girls. You have a good day now!"
Tapping hooves against the ceramic tiles thudded quieter and quieter. The swinging of door hinges sounded against the ringing of the bell, before ending with a click of the door latch. They were gone for now.
Breathing a sigh of relief, the back of my head knocked against the wooden panel as it reclined. I turned to look back up at her, to thank her. But I was met with a deathly glare that made me speechless.
"You've got some explaining to do, mister," she spoke down at me like I was a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Or the pastry dish, in this case. "And what're you gonna do about my pie you ruined?"
I gave a single, awkward chuckle. This was gonna take some time.
A dash of flour scored the wooden counter near the oven before Mrs. Cake plopped the ball of dough down. She turned her head to me, a wooden rolling pin clenched between teeth for me to take. My hand wrapped around the shaped handle of it, and I couldn't help but examine it first. No drool on it, but it had to be unhygienic to use this.
"Just roll out the dough as much as you can, about a couple of millimetres thick," she instructed, as I obeyed. I pressed the rolling pin down hard on the dough, and rolled it forward. The dough clung on and wrapped itself around the tool, only getting worse as I rolled it back. I heard an impatient sigh from behind me. "No, no, no. Press gently," she spoke as she placed her hooves on the dough, unwrapping it from the pin, "and work the dough gently until it becomes flat. Like this…" She moved her hooves onto the top of my hands. Soft and furry, almost like a cat's paws. She eased up on the pressure that I was applying to the dough, and began to move my hands up and down as a slower, weaker pace. I let her take control for the moment, until she removed her hooves from me. "Now, you try it."
I couldn't help but let out a subtle groan as I worked the dough. "I wasn't any good at baking," I said, as painful as it was for me to admit it despite my enjoyment of cooking, but perhaps she would ease up on me. "Failed it at school. Got me an 'E' grade by the end of it."
"It's all about practice. If you keep doing it, you'll get better. But… I guess you don't have a baking cutie mark, do you?"
"I don't have one at all. Humans don't tend to get magical marks on their butts when they find the thing they're good at."
"Is that so?" She laughed as she watched me work. "That's better," she noted on my rolling skills. "So then… what's your special talent?"
Silence filled the room as I thought on it. My mind wandered, but my arms kept moving on their own as they stretched out the dough more and more. "I dunno. Humans are a bit more complicated than that. Some people have more than one special talent. Some can go their entire lives without even knowing it."
"And you?"
My arms stopped. My hands lifted the rolling pin and set it aside. "Still searching. I'm good at a fair few things. I can code. I can play the guitar. I can draw. I can write. I can fight. But I don't particularly have the passion for any of those." It was a lot to think about, overwhelmingly so. I didn't expect my conversation with a pony to be as deep as it was. "I think for someone to have a special talent, they need to have a passion for it, even if they start off bad, even terrible at it. You said it's all about practice, right? I've always thought of practice as the platform, and passion the fuel that drives it. Passion drives the platform to one's dreams."
Mrs. Cake smiled at me all the while. "I think you've hit the nail on the head, Summers," she responded. I gave a half smile at that. "What is your dream?"
My hands slowly, carefully slid under the flattered sheet of dough before lifting it from the worktop. "I'm not sure," I replied, blunt and deadpan. I placed the dough in the nearby pie tin, making sure the bottom sat flush and tucking the edges around the inside. "I've never really thought about it. I kinda just went through life day by day just… living. Making sure me and my family had what we needed. Just making sure we had food on the table and a roof over our heads."
"Surely there must be something you want to work towards?" she asked as she stirred the simmering cherry jam on the stove. "You said you're studying this… 'coding' at college, right? There must be a reason why you're doing it."
"I wanna be a game designer. I wanted to be able to put my mind into something people can play, something people can enjoy. But then I ask myself… Why? Perhaps when I find my dream, I'll be able to answer that question."
"Maybe you'll find it sooner than you think. I know you'll find it. Just keep looking forward!"
A hummed with a smile as my fingers patted against the sides of the pastry, forming it against the notched sides of the tin. "Thanks, mom."
Did I just say that?
I stopped. Slowly I turned and gazed at Mrs. Cake. She did the same thing, our eyes locked. Time felt like it was slowing down as the silence mingled with tension. A sudden pop from the pot broke it, thankfully.
"O-Oh! Looks like the jam is ready," the pony spoke to break the pause. "Just gotta… let it sit to cool down now…"
I cleared my throat as I stood up straight, turning away from her. A nervous tick moved my hand to the back of my head to scratch it. "S-sorry about that. It's just that… mom always says to keep looking forward." I looked over my shoulder back at her. She was smiling a motherly smile. I reciprocated the notion. "You kinda remind me of her. She was a good baker too."
She giggled, and smirked at me. "Well, we know you didn't get that from your mom, then!" Ooh, now she's throwing shade as well as flour. But I couldn't help but snicker. "I guess while you're here, you can… stay for a few nights."
I felt my heart thump heavily in my chest for a single beat. I turned to her, opening my mouth to speak. All I made for a choking noise before I managed to get the words out. "But… Mrs. Cake, I couldn't… I couldn't possibly intrude on you like this."
"Where else have you got to go? We can't have you sleeping under a tree all the time, can we? Besides, Rarity and Twilight will still be out looking for you, or did you forget that?"
Truthfully, I did. Making this pie took my mind off of it. Took my mind off of a lot of things. "Yeah, you got a point. But… where am I gonna stay?"
"Upstairs, of course! We've got a few bedrooms upstairs. I won't even charge you rent."
"No, that's too much, Mrs. Cake. I have to pay you back somehow."
She hummed, her eyes shifting up to the ceiling. "I tell you what. Let's make a deal. You stay with us for free, and you'll work in the kitchen for no pay—"
"I, uh… I guess I could do that."
"I haven't finished! You'll work for no pay—but, your pay will go towards fixing those windows you broke. And you'd better bet I'm gonna work your flank off!"
"Ah, there's the catch! But I'll do it. I've gotta set things right, haven't I?"
"You're darn right you do." Hooves tapped on the floor as she walked towards me. Without warning, without a pause, she wrapped her forelegs around me and held me close. "Welcome to your new home, Summers."
My arms shook. The feeling was strange, yet familiar. I hadn't felt something like this since I was a toddler. I wrapped my arms under hers, and over her withers. "Thanks… 'mom'."
"You're gonna be calling me that now, aren't ya?"
"Probably. I haven't decided yet." But something clicked in my mind. I pulled away, and looked straight at her. "Wait… you said "us", right? Who else lives here?"
"Well there's me and my husband, our little ones, and—"
"Mrs. Cake! I'm back!"
That voice. I would recognize that voice anywhere. High, squeaky, filled with energy like a sugar overload.
Pinkie Pie pranced in, looking overly cheerful as was usual. Baskets of ingredients hung from either side of a harness that was fastened on her back. Her big, wide, cyan eyes gazed at me past that overhanging lock of hot-pink hair. "Summers!? What're you doing here?" But then her eyes narrowed. Her nostrils flared. I could see a literal flame burning in those pupils of hers. "You didn't come back last night! YOU BROKE OUR PINKIE PROMISE!"
I flinched and back up against the counter. Then I side stepped behind Mrs. Cake.
"Mom! Help me!"