‘I’ve been driving for a while now,’ Cassy thought to herself. ‘I should’ve found a gas station by now, right?’
The question went unanswered as Cassy scanned the banks of the dirt road for any sign of a Conoco, or any sort of structure for that matter as she leisurely piloted her vehicle in a straight path along the dirt road; a somewhat listless task, as her thoughts were more or less concerned with why there had been no sign of civilization for the past hundred miles or so. She didn’t go that far, or at least, she didn’t mean to.
It was entirely possible that during her drive she had become distracted and summarily lost her way. It would not be the first time she had accidentally gotten herself good and lost in an unfamiliar location. It would, however, be the first time that it had placed her in some sort of desert in the middle God knows where.
All she could see was dirt, sand, and the occasional cactus as she drove, and she had long since started to become a bit concerned with ever finding a road leading back home in a timely manner. Cassy glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Five thirty-eight. It had been three hours and counting since she left her home for a quick drive outside of the city, and had since started to become rather concerned with the prospect of finding her way in a timely manner.
Cassy sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes with her right hand, keeping the other firmly on the wheel. Her other other hand casually reached over to snag the open box of cigarettes from the passenger seat, flicking the lid open while her other other other hand fumbled with a small lighter, her remaining two other arms neatly folded in her lap, resting on her red rompers that she was sure she had not been wearing this morning.
Cassy didn’t consider herself to be addicted by any stretch, no matter what her friends told her. After all, she only ever smoked when she started to feel overly stressed, and right now seemed as appropriate a time as ever to call upon the soothing powers of nicotine as she ignited the tip of the cigarette and took a long drag of it before exhaling a putrid cloud of vapor and smoke.
It didn’t offer too much help, but it was at least enough to keep Cassy’s thoughts from descending into full blown worry.
She glanced at rearview mirror, ignoring the five shiny black eyes staring back at her in favor of inspecting the road behind her, partially obscured by the cloud of light brown dust kicked up by the wheels.
“I should just turn around,” she mumbled bitterly to herself, unhappy with the turn that recent events had taken. If she were wise to any degree, she would have already done just that a few hours ago. In fact, she might not even be in this situation in the first place if she had heeded her own advice. However, for some reason she kept going, stubbornly keeping her small foot firmly pressed against the gas pedal. She took a number of slow draws at the bundle of tobacco, before flicking the stump outside the window into the barren expanse outside her microbus.
Another half hour or so passed, and Cassy was beginning to feel the increasingly tempting desire to heed to the wisdom of hindsight and just turn around right then and there. That is, until she spotted something in the distance, partially obscured by the thin layer of dust that had collected on her windshield. Cassy squinted her eyes, unable to quite make out what it was other than it was some type of structure. A gas station maybe? That was her initial guess, although the closer she got the more apparent it became that is was not some errant Conoco in the middle of nowhere.
Cassy pulled to a stop in front of the building, inspecting it through the passenger window, and found herself to be summarily perplexed by the sight before her. Old wooden siding, a windchime that jangled softly. There was even what appeared to be a spittoon of all things. The place reminded her of some sort of wild west tavern or bar, like the movie sets she saw in some old cowboy films. There was no sign or anything, leaving her wondering what it was doing all the way out here.
Curious to find out if only for the sake of knowing, Cassy killed the engine, stepping out of the microbus to investigate. “Hello?” she called out, shielding her eyes from the sun with her three left hands. “Anyone here?” She waited briefly for a response, and when none was forthcoming it made her question whether is was worth bothering to check out any further. It didn’t seem to be abandoned, judging from how clean everything seemed to be. There was clearly somebody around to tidy up the place and keep it presentable.
Shrugging away her doubts, Cassy approached the swinging doors, the pointed feet of her thin legs clicking on the wooden flooring. She overheard snoring emanating from within, confirming her suspicion that there was at least one person here. Maybe if she introduced herself, quickly explained that she was not there to eat them, whoever they were might be willing to give her directions.
Pushing aside the doors, Cassy found herself greeted by the musty scent of old cigars and various alcohols that almost knocked her off her feet from how overpowering it was. Looking around, she immediately noticed rows of shelves filled to the brim with dried goods and various bits of gear suited for travel. And there were potted plants everywhere, occupying every spare corner in sight.
Again, the distinct din of slumber made itself known to Cassy, and she looked to her left to find. . . perhaps one of the strangest sights she had ever seen, not counting herself. Behind the counter, slumped over with her head resting on folded hooves was a mare with fur the color of grass, and a mane tinted a deep shade of emerald with streaks of turquoise that spilled out all over the counter, obscuring her face beneath waves of flowing locks as she snoozed, blissfully unaware of Cassy’s presence.
“Okay. . . that’s new,” Cassy muttered dumbly, the statement doing very little in properly conveying the confusion she was currently experiencing, let alone the mental gymnastics her brain was pulling in attempting to process the odd sight before.
The mares loud snoring was not helping in the slightest, as Cassy tried to decide what to do.
Was. . . was this horse thing some kind of animatronic? Did she come across some distant roadside attraction? That was her first guess, but that begged the question of where the person operating this joint was. Plus, unless they had had absurdly deep pockets to spend on something almost no one would ever see, the mare was simply too life-like, minus a few discrepancies from what a horse actually looked like, to be the product of machinery.
Her next guess was that the pony was somebody’s pet, though again, that did not answer where the owner was. Or why it was green. Hoping to find the answers to her growing list of questions, Cassy cupped her multitude of hands around her fanged mouth, calling out, “Hello? Anyone here?”
What followed in the moments after the words left her mouth was something that the young woman had not been expecting in the slightest as the mare jolted awake at the provocation of her elevated voice, her head snapping upward while she exclaimed in a bleary tone, “Huh? Whuzzat? Who’s there I’m. . . busy.”
Cassy froze on the spot, staring wide-eyed at the pony. The talking pony. The talking green pony that she only just now noticed had a blunt horn roughly the same shade of green as her fur spiraling out of her forehead. So. . . talking green unicorn really.
Cassy blinked, rendered completely dumfounded by the absurdity of what she was witnessing as the mare contorted her left forelimb in a way that physically should not have been possible given her equine physiology, placing a hoof against the side of her head to ward off an impending headache.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Last time I let Flinty talk me into another late night.”
Just then, one set of eyes met two and a half sets of eyes, and the mares face transformed from an expression of pained annoyance to one of blank uncertainty.
Cassy blinked.
The green mare followed suit.
“Well you’re an odd one.”
The statement was so unexpected and out of the blue that Cassy practically recoiled in surprise as soon as she heard it, and she was unable to decide whether to feel irked by it or nod in agreement. The only thing she knew with any certainty was that it was woefully underexaggerated.
“I should say the same about you,” she replied cheekily, feeling a grim satisfaction at seeing the weird pony frown at the rebuttal. Before she could get a chance to come up with a witty retort of her own, Cassy interrupted her by saying, “Listen, I don’t want to cause any trouble, alright? Can you just. . . tell me what the heck is going on here?”
Raising an eyebrow, the mare replied with a question of her own that was laced heavily with caution. “What do you mean?”
Cassy gestured at her surroundings. “I mean everything. I have no idea what’s going on, alright? I go out for a drive, and all of a sudden, I’m here in this wasteland. Not to mention I’m stuck like. . .” Cassy trailed off, looking down at herself with something akin to contempt. “Like this. I don’t really know, your guess is as good as mine.” Suddenly feeling rather worn out, Cassy leaned against the counter, putting one of her three fingered hands against her brow, mindful not to accidentally poke herself in one of her eyes. “Listen, miss talking horse lady-“
“Chamomile.”
“I don’t drink tea, but thank you for the offer. Anyway, if you can, I could really use your help. If you could just point me in the general direction of Denver, I would really appreciate it.”
The mare did not reply right away much to Cassy’s dismay, choosing instead to look her up and down with an air of skepticism about her, apparently attempting to gauge whether or not Cassy was about to eat her.
“Well,” she finally answered after a while, “I’m afraid I can’t really tell you where, uh. . . Denver is at. But I can at least give you directions to Dodge Junction if that helps. Or Klugetown, if that’s more your style.” She gave Cassy another onceover. “You definitely look like Klugetowns’ style, that’s for sure.”
Cassy had no idea what the weird pony was talking about, and was left unsure if she should feel insulted by the statement, and she made her displeasure known with an impatient grimace. “Can you help me or not?” she questioned, straining not to let her annoyance get the better of her.
“The mare shook her head. “Sorry. Not unless you want to know which sort of tack is good for trips or the best way to get a deal at Flinty’s, then you’re asking the wrong pony.” Cassy groaned, not even bothering to offer a response as she proceeded to throw her multitude of arms up into the air and make her exit. “W-wait!” the mare called after her. Cassy halted, hoping that the mare had finally decided to be helpful. “Aren’t you going to buy anything before you leave?” Cassy held her gaze for a moment, then left. Nope. Her need to sell stuff just overrode her paranoia it seemed. As soon as the strange spider lady had left, taking with her any chance of making a purchase the mare muttered to herself, “What a weirdo.” Shaking her head, she rested her head on her hooves, eager to return to her nap.
Outside the building, Cassy from practically fuming with aggravation as she stepped into her vehicle, frustrated not only by how very unhelpful the talking unicorn pony had bee, but also by the fact that she was no closer to making it back home in timely manner, never mind the fact that she had next to no clue on how she was going to handle the inevitable questions and potential screams of terror when her friends and colleagues saw what became of her.
Cassy decided to set that dilemma off to the side for later consideration as she started up the engine, performed a probably illegal U-turn, and started heading back the way she came, lighting another cigarette along the way to remedy her tense attitude.
The way things were going, she was probably going to need a lot more.