//------------------------------// // Truckin' // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Even as the first raindrops fell, Hollyhock hesitated. Sundance had already hitched himself to the sky truck and was ready to go, but the pregnant mare kept her distance. A mild sense of annoyance could not be held at bay, but Sundance showed no outward signs. Overhead, the skies began to darken in the sort of way that happened during spring and summer storms, that is to say with a great deal of sudden ferocity. “What’s to keep us from falling out?” Hollyhock asked. “Hold on to your foals,” Sundance replied. “Who holds on to me?” Stomping a hoof, Sundance squashed the grass as a few fat raindrops splashed his back. “Everything will be fine. Now, let’s go. Right now, you are putting your little ones in danger. There is no shelter here. That lean-to over there will do nothing. If we leave right now, I think I can keep ahead of the worst of the storm, but I think it might chase us.” “Storms will chase ponies?” “Get in the sky truck!” Sundance snapped, perhaps a bit louder than he intended. In the future, he would need to always carry rope or some means to secure passengers. Perhaps he could secure a cargo container to the sky truck, a place where rope could be stored, but now was not the time to think of such things. Hollyhock was doing as she was told, and she loaded her foals into the sturdy two-wheeled cart. Amber Dawn was dropped in first, then Lemongrass, and when both of her foals were aboard, Hollyhock clambered on. “My life is in your hooves,” she said while sitting down and settling into a rear corner. “Wings? It sounded so much better in my head, but it sounds so stupid now. Why? Why do I have to look a fool in front of the pony who’s saving my sorry, worthless life?” When Sundance took off at a run, there were three cries from the cart behind him. The tall grass offered up a lot of resistance—good for landing, but terrible for taking off. Wings pumping, Sundance threw himself against his harness and gave it all that he had. Behind him, Hollyhock was being bounced around, he could feel it, and for a moment he wondered how soldiers stayed put. No doubt there was some means of securing them that he was unaware of. After almost a hundred yards of hard effort, Sundance took to the air. The tall grass was a learning experience; landing in it was great, but taking off from it was terrible. Hollyhock was shrieking behind him, but as soon as the ride smoothed out he figured that she would calm down a bit. Of course, the ride could also get bumpy, because the storm was making a valiant attempt to crawl right up his backside. The powerful tailwind pushed on the sky truck behind him, which put a lot of pressure on the various stress points of his harness. All that powerful wind blew at an angle, pushing the cart off to Sundance’s right, which caused him to fly a bit to the left. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be blown off course, so he knew that he’d need to make adjustments. He was still learning the lay of the land, the visual landmarks that would guide him from place to place. There was a certain romance to all of this, and he had a keen awareness of it. At the moment, he had become Sundance, Sky Trucker, the intrepid pilot who flew his precious cargo to safety, racing ahead of storms to deliver the goods. Just a stallion and his sky truck, trying to make the world a better place. Behind him, there was an ominous crackle of thunder. “Mama, you can see the storm so much better up here!” “Amber, be quiet!” “But Mama, look!” A powerful gust caused the sky truck to shudder and this in turn made Sundance wobble. He didn’t have goggles and he remembered what the last storm had done to his eyes. Flexing his primaries, he decided that the risk was worth it. Angling his wings just so, he gripped the tailwind that was coming on strong and he heard shrieks from behind when his speed almost doubled. His mother warned him about riding the storm. She explained to him at length why he should always be in control of his own flight. He knew the danger. But right now, speed was needed and if he was lucky, the outer edge of the storm would push him ahead continually, keeping him ahead of the worst that the storm had to offer. It was risky, he had no doubts, but he knew that he could ride the outer swells home, provided that the wind held. Of course, if his mother ever found out that he was doing this with passengers… It took all of his strength and concentration to try and stay level. For some reason, he recalled the surfing movies he had watched, with ponies riding surfboards on the crests of dangerous waves. He folded up his front legs, tucking his hooves against his barrel, but kept his back legs extended to act as rudders. His wings acted more like sails at the moment and he bore the full brunt of the wind in his sturdy wing joints. Was he strong enough? That was a tough question to answer. If he wasn’t, he might be too exhausted later to try and rise above the storm. Holding his wings in this position and all of this fine muscle control was taxing. He could sense the rain behind him even as he felt a few stray drops collide with his back. This was just surfing, really. He was going to ride the crest of the storm all the way home, and if his luck held out, he would have another flying story. “Mama, there’s faces in the clouds! Do you see them?” “Hush, Amber! Hush!” Though risky, Sundance hazarded a glance back over his withers at the storm behind him. Tall, dark, anvil-shaped, he saw a lot of bluster. It was a spring thunderstorm and little more. Nothing at all like the maelstrom he had encountered a short while back. A little rain would do his barony some good and he could have the storm push him home, if he was lucky. “Hey, you!” he called out, shouting over his withers behind him. “Yeah, you with the ugly faces! I hear your mother was an incontinent picnic wetter!” There was a deep, foreboding rumble in response. Waggling his backside, he continued to goad the storm into fierce action: “How about you blow me?” The sudden rush of air shoved Sundance forward and he struggled to keep his wings at just the right angle. Gale speed winds struck him with terrific force and his harness put a lot of strain on his innards. He was being pushed upwards, too, gaining altitude, which was both good and bad. Too much altitude and the tailwind would be little more than a weak breeze. No, he needed to stay down where the wind was the strongest. “Your mother blew whole picnics!” Had he ever gone this fast? It was hard to say. Windshear was hard to manage at this speed, but he was learning an awful lot on the fly. How fast was he going? Hard to guess. Though he hardly had to flap, this was still going to be an exhausting trip, as his physical exertions to hold everything together were considerable. If anything struck his eyes at this speed, he’d be done for. He might even get brained. But it felt good to take risks. The wind came in hard and to his left as Sundance flew westward. He had overcorrected a bit too much, flown off course, and had ended up a bit too far east. Most of the storm was just wind now, with a bit of light rain, having blown itself it out shoving him home. He and his precious cargo were drenched, it was cold, but he wasn’t worried. There were fires to get warm by. Landing might be a little exciting with a side wind, but he was confident that he could touch down with no real trouble. For the first time in who knew how long, his barony had young ponies. Well, other than himself. He was bringing home a future, but this future had demands, and said demands brought to attention the necessities his barony lacked. Somehow, he would have to provide. It was like having a really large family—with one more on the way. The new runway, while a bit damp, looked fine to land upon. Everything had worked as intended. No standing water, no puddles, and the runway itself had not collapsed in the rain. From his lofty vantage point, he could see Cucumber shuffling over, moving as fast as his knobby knees would allow, which wasn’t very fast at all. Others too, were gathering around the landing strip, including Earwig and Earwax, just the ponies he wanted to see, because he had a plan. He trusted Earwig and Earwax implicitly. Absolute trust. For now, he would house Hollyhock and her foals with those two. Earwax was still adjusting to life on three legs and could no doubt use a little helper or two. Hollyhock needed somepony she could trust while she settled in. Yes, the more he thought about it, the more he thought this would be ideal. This was home now. As Sundance approached, he could not help but feel he was home. It was here he had found purpose, meaning. Though he still had plenty of fears, worries, and doubts, there would be no turning away, no going back home with his tail between his legs so he could live with his mother. He thought of the others in Canterlot, those nobles just like himself, the young, idealistic ponies that could be found in Château Nouveau. At long last, he had found work that suited him, and he got to pull a sky truck as well. Flapping his wings, Sundance touched down with a bit of bump, which caused his passengers to cry out. Though wet, the landing strip wasn’t muddy, soft, or squishy. It was hard packed, quite firm, and wasn’t slippery in the slightest. Good work had been done. The cart rattled and bounced behind him, the hard, solid rubber tires doing little to absorb the bumps. In short order, he came to a skidding halt and stood grinning in the light drizzle. “Milord… your owl has been fed, as requested.” Cucumber bowed his head a bit and then, squinting, he focused a rheumy eye on Hollyhock. “I see the Milord has brought back a wife—” “No!” Sundance gave his head a hard side-to-side shake. “Well why not, Milord? Is she not of breeding age? It is quite obvious she is. And from the looks of things, the both of you have been busy. Has it been that long since you left, Sire? She looks fit to pop, Milord, so she is.” “She was like that when I found her.” “Right, Sire. Sure she was.” When Cucumber nodded, his neck popped, along with most of his spine. Turning about, he focused all of his attention upon the new mare and her two foals. After a few moments of intense scrutiny, his gaze settled upon the young unicorn colt, who clung to his mother’s foreleg. “Sire, I see I’ve been replaced by somepony a bit younger. At long last, I can retire to a life of luxury, so I can.” Upon hearing this, Hollyhock began giggling. “Some introductions are in order,” Sundance said to those gathered around. “But first, let’s go someplace dry and warm. I think I need some tea.” “I’ll see to that, Milord, and I think I’ll fix a cup for myself. It’s cold and damp, so it is.” “Do that, Cucumber. Take care of yourself. I’ll haul the sky truck into the barn and then I’ll meet you in the dining hall. Wait for me there. Earwax, Earwig, I’ll be needing to speak with the both of you. In private, if possible. I have a special job that needs doing.” “And we’re just the mares for that job,” Earwig replied. “I bet I know what that job is, and it’s gonna be a load of fun. Come on, you. Don’t just stand there gawping in the rain. Inside, you lot! Get a move on!”