//------------------------------// // 8 - A Night Out // Story: Gloaming // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// I woke up in bed Saturday morning with one thought running through my head: I have nothing to do today. I’m a bit of a workaholic. I’d rather work for eight hours than sit around doing nothing for eight hours. In some circumstances, work is my play. (The fact that I really enjoyed my job — most of the time — didn’t hurt.) So to suddenly have a massive job offloaded for a day or two was so overwhelming I practically felt more tired, even though I’d slept well. I tried sleeping in and fell asleep again eventually. For an half an hour. I knew sleeping in was going to be pointless when I was restless, glanced at the clock, and it was still 6:47. I rolled off the bed onto the floor, curled into a ball, and uncurled as much as I could. I convinced myself I couldn’t hear my joints popping. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and stared out the window into the back yard. Nothing really registered at first, until I remembered that Levanta had said that the shed was falling apart. I’d need to look into it. The weather forecast had said mist was scheduled for today, but I’d never pictured it this thick. In Fawkes, “mist” was usually a light, thin cloud at ground level that vaguely interfered with visibility. The “mist” in the backyard wasn’t anything like that. This was a good, proper fog, the kind that actually hid things beyond two hundred feet, the kind you could feel as droplets condensed on your coat, the kind that muffled sound. I shivered a little as I walked through the backyard (although that was less because it actually cold, and more because I was used to the milder weather of Fawkes). I didn’t need to take a close look at the shed to know that Levanta was right. A large part of the first wall I saw was on the verge of falling apart, dark brown and rotting. I lightly poked at it; a small chunk of wood dropped off and a millipede skittered away. Yeah, that needed to be replaced, stat. A good, large panel and a nailgun ought to be enough. Too bad I had neither. The panel wouldn’t be hard — Delta was a lumber town, after all — but I didn’t use a nailgun often enough to justify buying one. Maybe Clearwater had one I could borrow. I checked the other walls. They weren’t perfect, but luckily, they weren’t nearly as bad as the first. Then I took a look at the door. Levanta had said she’d gone to the shed to get a shovel and hadn’t said anything about the shovels not being there. I couldn’t remember taking them out. She said she hadn’t. With a deep breath, I opened the door to the shed. All of our yard work stuff was in there. I double-checked everything: fertilizer, trowels, shovels, watering cans, etc. It was all there, or at least everything I’d remembered packing. I didn’t think I’d taken anything out to the shed yet, but maybe I’d just forgotten abo- No. I definitely hadn’t forgotten. Yesterday morning, I’d stubbed my toe on a box of yard stuff. Nothing had been taken out. And… Levanta had said she’d taken a shovel from the shed when she got home from school. Had the door been locked when I’d come home? Yes, it had. Dread took a hold of me. Somepony had broken into my house and moved those boxes, almost as if to prove that they could get at me whenever they wanted. I turned to leave the shed, then stopped. There was a note taped to the inside of the door. You’re welcome. — River I almost fainted. What was with this guy? Why me? He didn’t know a damn thing about me. Did he just go eenie-meenie-miney-moe and pick somepony to torment? Did he get off on showing me how easily he could get to me? Whatever the case, I needed to do two things: tell the police I had a stalker. And tell Levanta about this. Levanta’s mane was a disheveled, labyrinthine mess of bedhead as she chowed down on her cereal. She seemed fine. I hated to spring this on her when she was just waking up, but better sooner than later. I sat down opposite her. “Levanta, I’ve… I’ve got something I need to tell you.” She swallowed her cereal and looked at me anxiously. “Yeah?…” Deep breath. “I’m sorry for dropping this on you now, but… remember how I told you about staying away from Crooked River?” “Yeah. Why?” I had no clue where to go. Not even Thunderhead had ever needed to deal with something like this. As such, I went for frank. It was probably a bad choice, but she needed to know. “I- I’m pretty sure he’s stalking me. He’s- I’ve seen him in suspicious places and I think he might’ve broken into our house yesterday.” Levanta’s expression didn’t change at first, but I think it was because she just didn’t know how to react. “Wh-what?” She looked down a little and blinked. Her eyes were wide when she looked back up. “M-Mom, I-” “So listen,” I said. “If the doorbell rings, don’t open the door without checking it first. Don’t go near him. If he tries walking up to you, fly away. Come home or go to the police station or- You can go to Brook’s house, she’s the daughter of a cop. And unless you’re flying, don’t go around town alone. I don’t think he wants anything to do with you, but I don’t want to risk it.” As I spoke, Levanta’s blankness gave way to shock to a kind of grim acceptance. She nodded. “Yeah,” she said flatly. “Okay.” She sighed. “Shouldn’t moving away from Fawkes mean we don’t see this anymore?” “Well, that’s the way it is,” I said. “Levanta, please. Stay safe.” Levanta looked at me, opened her mouth, then walked around the table and hugged me. “You stay safe, Mom,” she whispered. “I- I don’t…” “Don’t worry,” I said, hugging her back. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.” It was all I knew to say. The sun was setting when I poked my head into my daughter’s room. “Levanta?” “Yeah?” She didn’t look up from her spirograph. In spite of its simplicity, she was quite taken with it. And to be fair, the designs it produced were incredibly intricate. “There’s an evening church service in about half an hour. Are you coming?” “Nah. Next week.” “Alright. I’ll be spending the rest of the night out, but I’ll be back by tomorrow morning. Remember to lo-” “Lock up, check who’s ringing the doorbell, and get to bed at a decent time.” Levanta looked up and smirked. “I didn’t forget everything about Fawkes.” “Right. Well, good night.” “Night. See you tomorrow.” I wasn’t late, but I saw a lot of other ponies turning up at the chapel when I arrived. Of course, “religious” was a stereotype of small towns for a reason. I glanced around, trying to see anypony I recognized, but I couldn’t make anypony out, either inside or outside. The chancel was large, but we could all fit in front the altar with a bit of a squeeze (and a quick glance determined that Hailey had gotten the hole fixed). In spite of the Fire of Friendship burning on the altar, the room wasn’t hot or humid at all. We went through the usual hymns. The congregation was updated on some of the issues in town (Tacoma, whoever she was, was doing much better, thank you for your prayers). Then it was time for the amateur sermons. To my mild surprise, Homeguard was the first pony to step up. To my bigger surprise, absolute silence fell the moment he stood up. Was he known for doing this? I tilted my ears forward in anticipation. Homeguard paced around and around, between the congregation and the altar. “How many of you are familiar with, or at least have heard of, the Music of the Spheres?” he asked. Every single hoof in the room went up. “Musica universalis,” said Homeguard. “Harmony at scales beyond even Celestia’s or Luna’s capabilities. And how many of you are familiar with the periodic table of the elements?” Most of the hooves in the room went up. “Molecules and atoms, joining and separating to preserve a neutral net charge. A different form of harmony, perhaps, and yet harmony nonetheless. Harmony at scales none of us can perceive.” Homeguard swept his hoof in an all-inclusive motion. “At either extreme of our perception, we can see harmony. To deny it is to deny the nature of the universe. Harmony is not merely some social construct spat out by our brains during evolution. It is woven into reality itself.” Homeguard’s teaching went on. His language was a bit florid, but he presented his points well and used some remarkably good metaphors. I definitely wouldn’t have guessed that he was capable of it. It was almost a shame when he finished up and the next volunteer took his place. Overall, the service was a little bit longer than I was expecting, about an hour and a half, but I didn’t consider a second of it wasted. It was one of the more enlightening services I’d been to in a while. But once the bell was ringing to signify the end of the service, the entire congregation attempted to disperse through the exit, with expected results. I got caught up in the crush and wiggled my way through the door early. Once outside, I pushed myself out of the crowd and to one side of the door. I’d wait there for Clearwater, and if she never showed up, well, I had her address. Fortunately, she popped out of the last few stragglers to leave the chapel. “You ready?” For some reason, thoughts of Clearwater’s daughter jumped into my head. “Yeah, but what’ll Babbling Brook think about the company?” Clearwater blinked. “How did you know- Wait, Levanta’s your daughter, isn’t she? Right. Anyway, Brook’s away at a friend’s for the night. And if she wasn’t, she tolerates the company. Stuffs herself in her room for the night and reads. Anyway, my house is this way. Come on.” She nodded down the road and set off at a trot. After a little while, she coughed and said quietly, “Um, I don’t want to, uh, butt into your personal life or anything, but, but Levanta mentioned that her father died in an accident a few weeks ago. I didn’t ask what kind of accident, but- I’m sorry that had to happen to you.” I almost told her she didn’t need to worry about it, that I was adjusting fine. But even though that was true, out-and-out saying it would just be brushing off her empathy. I didn’t need her condolences, but her heart was in the right place, and it’d be… cold, I guess, to not acknowledge that. “It’s alright. But thanks.” “Uh. Yeah. Anytime.” I quickly decided to change the subject. Just because I was adjusting didn’t mean I wanted to talk about it. “Hey, um, is it just me, or was Homeguard’s teaching really good?” “N-no, it’s not just you,” Clearwater said, almost as grateful for the subject change as I was. “He’s, uh, he goes up there nearly every service, and every time he speaks, it’s good. And I don’t think he’s ever repeated himself ever since he moved here.” “Wow. Does he have any liturgical training?” “Not that I know of. But Hailey- You know who Hailey is, right? Hearty Hail? -is the sexton of the chapel, and she’s his sister, so maybe a religiousness runs in the family.” A-ha. I was right. Homeguard and Hailey were related. A minor victory, all things considered, but it felt good to get something right for once this week. “When did he move here? Did he come with Hailey?” “Yeah, they both arrived, uh… seven years ago. And to be honest, I’m glad they did. The chapel was falling apart, but Hailey started repairing it the moment she laid eyes on it. She’s good at it, too, not the braindead idiot with a hammer you’d think she’d be. Homeguard’s also the closest thing Delta has to a surgeon.” “A surgeon? Not just a doctor?” “Oh, yeah.” Clearwater nodded. “He knows his med work like wow. Stitches, setting bones, and he’s even steadier with a scalpel than the doctor.” “Wow.” “And he works a lot at the fire station. You’re supposed to spend a twenty-four hour shift there and then get forty-eight hours off, but he often volunteers there on his days off and he never seems stressed. I swear, it’s like he doesn’t sleep.” We kept chatting as we walked down the road. It took a while, and Clearwater noticed when I started glancing around. “Yeah, should’ve mentioned,” she said with chuckled, “I live on the scenic route. Not that close to Delta, but I like the views.” Her house looked like something a hermit might live in before she decided she liked the company, anyway, and expanded. Most of it was small, compact, the sort of house for somepony who likes being outdoors and has zero claustrophobia — the porch almost seemed bigger than the house itself — but sometime in the past, a large wing had been added on. I couldn’t see through the windows, but it looked like a living room of some kind. “Hey!” yelled Clearwater as we entered. “I’m back! Sorry it took so long! Busy service!” “That’s fine!” someone said gruffly from the new wing. “Aberdeen got a euchre game going, so we’ve been busy!” “Great!” To me, Clearwater said, “C’mon.” She pulled me over to the new section; more than a living room, it was a game room, with a pool table — a pool table! — two tables obviously meant for card games (felt tops and everything; one even had poker tokens) and a load of board and card games in shelves along the walls. Almost a dozen ponies were milling around the room; four were sitting around the not-poker table, engrossed in a card game, and the others were watching in the “I’m paying attention but not really” way, where breaking into a long conversation with the pony next to you is to be expected. “New player tonight!” Clearwater said to the assembly. “Swan Dive, the ranger! Say hi, Swan.” As I awkwardly waved, Clearwater began talking more quickly and pointing at ponies. “That’s my husband, Pomeroy.” A lanky blue-eyed stallion with frizzy hair waved. “Othello — he owns the best bar in town-” A gray-eyed unicorn lifted a glass in recognition. “-Ephrata — lumberer and carpenter, she knows the most about wood of anypony here-” A vague wave from a green-eyed pegasus with a notch down her hoof. “-Tekoa — also lumberer, she’s both the nastiest and nicest pony you’ll ever know — that over there’s Granger — mid-tier weatherpony, solid and dependable — Moxee — vice principal of our high school, knows how to abuse loopholes, don’t play O&O with her — Wapato — he’s thinking about starting a mine, real competitive…” The names started blurring around the second. I’ve always had a hard time keeping them straight. When I grinned and coughed. “Could you, uh, go over them again?” “Hey, names hain’t himportant!” said… I think it was Tekoa. “We’re ’ere tonight to ’ave fun, hand hI don’t care hif you get my name wrong. You play cards?” And she produced a pack seemingly from nowhere and waved at the poker table. “Well, no,” I said. “But how hard can it be?” I was very, very lucky we weren’t playing with real money. I was cleaned out in less than a dozen rounds. I think my poker face was alright, but I learned that I’m terrible at reading tells, and I’m pretty sure Pomeroy was faking half the time. He kept raking in the tokens slowly but surely, while Clearwater and Tekoa — it was definitely Tekoa — simply sent tokens back and forth between each other when Pomeroy didn’t take them. So as Pomeroy slowly whittled the other two away and the crowd got bored, so did I. Unlike them, I didn’t leave. There really isn’t much you can do when you’re waiting for a poker game to end, but up and leaving felt rude. At least, that was what I told myself. My ear twitched when I heard the door open, followed by several happy “hey!”s. I twisted around; Homeguard and Hailey came walking into the game room. “I hope you do not mind,” said Homeguard to Clearwater. “Your door was unlocked, so we let ourselves in.” “And if you do mind, tough cookies!” said Hailey. “We’re in now! Are we doing charades yet?” “Not yet,” said Clearwater, not looking up from her cards. “Just let us finish this game. I thought you said you weren’t coming.” “I said our plans were sketchy,” replied Homeguard. “As things turn out, we were able to come. We apologize for being late.” “Well, happy to have you. I’d direct you to the snacks, but you don’t eat them, do you?” “I do not wish to gorge myself on such fattening foods,” said Homeguard. “What he said,” added Hailey, and sat down right behind Pomeroy. She rubbed her chin and made an excellent poker face. Maybe it was just because I’d been sitting for a while already, waiting for the game to end, but my mind began to wander. I sniffed at the little bit of air Homeguard and Hailey had brought in. Rich, woody, just full of life. No two forests ever smell the same, and this one was a particularly alluring one. Pity I’d never stopped and sme- “Hope you don’t mind,” I said as I got up, “but I need some fresh air.” “It’s not like there isn’t air inside,” said Hailey. Everypony — including me — laughed a little, but I still went out to the porch. I picked a chair far from the house and fell into it. Viewed through the trees, the setting sun was beautiful, but I ignored it. I lifted my nose and sniffed. A lot of ponies think being able to pick out different smells from a lot of them is some kind of superpower, but really, it’s not that different from picking out different sounds, just with a different sense. Anypony can, given time, learn to do what I do, even if I’d never match a dog for detecting smells. So it wasn’t out of nowhere that I could smell the forest. Not many flowers, but they were overrated anyway. Lots of cedars, as they were the dominant tree species around here, with their dried-fruit smell. The sour smell of western hemlock (no relation to the poisonous kind). Junipers (an apple-lemon scent). A lot of plants, I couldn’t identify, since I hadn’t smelled them before. They smelled wonderful all the same. I heard somepony come up behind me. “Knock knock,” said Homeguard. “I hope you do not mind the company.” “Nah, you’re fine,” I said, waving a hoof vaguely. “I just came out here because I lost pretty quickly at poker, and if I’m going to be sitting around, I might as well have some nice scenery.” I gestured at the forest. “You know,” Homeguard said as he sat down next to me, “you could have joined in some other game. Or simply gotten up and let the game continue.” “Well-” I looked away from him as I felt my face turn red. “Okay, yeah. I could’ve. Dunno why I didn’t.” “Do you view yourself as antisocial?” “Not really, no. I like ponies fine. Maybe I just prefer nature to ponies. I never really thought about it before.” Honestly, I hadn’t. But it made sense, in a way. I liked to work, and working put me out in nature. More or less ponies out in nature with me didn’t change that. Homeguard nodded, leaned back, and sniffed at the wind. “Smell is underappreciated, don’t you think?” he asked. “Perhaps the sense most likely to get an intense response, and yet barely anypony pays it more than a passing thought.” “If ponies paid it more than a passing thought, it wouldn’t be so intense,” I said. Vague memories of my college tracking professor surfaced for a few moments. “Like, think of… Think of taste. The first time you taste something, you’re like, wow, this is amazing or wow, this is terrible or whatever. But when you have it again and again, you still love or hate it, but it doesn’t have that same… kick, you know? You’re used to it. If ponies started smelling a lot, they’d grow used to it.” Homeguard didn’t respond at first. I glanced at him and twitched; he was looking at me very intently. “Yes,” he said eventually, looking back at the forest. “That may be part of it.” He didn’t continue. Neither did I. I felt awkward, trying to follow this line of thought after he’d stared at me like that. He probably didn’t mean anything, but yeesh. As the silence stretched closer into uncomfortable territory, I reached for another line of conversation. “So, um. I heard you moved here. How come?” “Hailey and I — she is my sister — wanted to get away from the city,” he said simply. “It was too busy, too impersonal, and too fast. In a place like Seaddle, a second spent smelling the roses is a second wasted, and I like smelling the roses. We simply searched for small towns and eventually found Delta.” “Seems nice,” I said. “Quite. I have never regretted the decision.” The wind rustled the forest. I sniffed again. No change in what smells were in the air, but their proportions had shifted, making something totally different. It’s a shame Equestrian has so few words devoted to smells. “Have you met my sister?” asked Homeguard. “You would probably enjoy her company.” “Kinda, not really. I only talked to her once for a minute a few days ago.” Inside, I heard Hailey say, very quickly, “A griffon miner fresh off of work for the day who’s spotted a lost coin purse in a side tunnel and doesn’t know whether to delay his trip to the bar to pick it up or not!” “She seems… um, interesting,” I said. Inside, somepony else said, “Close enough. How did you guess that?” Homeguard smiled. “Hailey is Hailey, and I would not have her any other way,” he said.