Gardening with Rose
Admiral Biscuit
I’d thought that their backyard was the perfect place to practice going clothesless, but as I stood in the doorway I started to have second thoughts. It wasn’t as secluded as I’d originally thought; across the back fence I could see a stallion in the street pulling a wagon, and he hadn’t turned to look at me yet but it was only a matter of time. And of course there would be pegasi flying overhead, although that didn’t matter. Surely some of them had seen me before in my backyard or when I was bathing in the river and it hadn’t really bothered me then. I was just trying to rationalize.
Lily and Daisy were also staring. It was probably just curiosity. They didn’t faint on the spot or gallop off in terror.
I followed Rose over to a row, and we started working. Once I’d crouched down a bit to help her, the other two sort of lost interest in me and went back to their blooms.
We worked in silence at first, with Lily and Daisy occasionally studying me whenever I walked by with a loaded bucket. Lily was still tense; she kept flicking her tail and one ear was always pointed at me, no matter what she was doing. Daisy focused more on her tasks with only occasional glances in my direction.
I’d never noticed before, but while Rose and Lily exclusively used their tools with mouth and hoof, Daisy occasionally wrapped things in a green aura of magic even though she didn’t have a horn. That was something I’d never seen another earth pony do; that was something that just unicorns could do, or so I’d thought.
Obviously, Rose and Lily knew about it—how would they not? And even if it was rude to ask, I still wanted to know. “Rose? How come Daisy’s using magic?”
“She’s half unicorn,” Rose whispered back. “That’s why she’s kind of scrawny, too.”
“Technically, I’m three-quarters,” Daisy said. I hadn’t realized that she was close enough to overhear us.
I set my bucket down. This was interesting. “How does that work?”
“Well, when two ponies love each other very much—“
“Not that. I know how sex works.”
“Um.” She glanced over at Rose, who was blushing at the mention of sex. “Well, I don’t know exactly, other than it’s genetics and chromosomes. Dominant and recessive, just like plants.
“I had some magic surges when I was a filly, and most of the time it was making plants grow and stuff, but sometimes I did horn magic, so my Mom sort of helped teach me and encourage me to use telekinesis. Since almost everypony else in my family could, I didn’t think it was that odd, even though I didn’t have a horn. I do sort of have a little knot on my forehead, though.” Her ears drooped. “A lot of ponies don’t like it, and I guess it takes a while to get used to seeing. I don’t do it much in town.”
“Ponies don’t like the idea of unicorns growing plants,” Rose added. “When we’re all alone though, nopony knows.”
“The pony caste system at work,” I muttered.
“Huh? What’s that?”
“Never mind.”
Daisy’s ears perked back up. “Since we’re asking personal questions, how come your flanks and belly are kinda pale and the rest of you is more dun colored? Are humans piebald? Is that why you wear pants all the time, to hide it?”
“It’s a suntan,” I said. “My skin turns darker when it’s exposed to the sun, but if it’s under clothes that doesn’t happen.”
“Is that like a sunburn?”
“Not exactly, but I can get those, too.” In fact, there was a chance that that would happen, but I was going to take that chance. “This doesn’t hurt like a sunburn does. People that live in really sunny places on Earth have naturally darker skin; those of us that don’t have dark skin get a suntan, and only if we stay out too long, a sunburn.”
•••
By lunchtime, Daisy had warmed up to me at least, and I’d mostly forgotten that I was naked. With each passing minute, it felt more natural, and I didn’t worry any more about ponies going by on the street looking over and seeing me. Maybe if there had been a crowd gathered at the fence, I would have sung a different tune, but there wasn’t.
In fact, it was feeling right, like I was some kind of forest nymph returning to my natural state. Or maybe that was just the onset of heatstroke.
In the back of my mind I knew that there was still going to be a mental fight when it came time to leave the relative safety and seclusion of the backyard, but that was a problem for later. For now, I’d get used to this, and that would make the next steps that much easier.
A shadow crossed over the garden—a low-flying pegasus. I looked up just in time to see her circle back around and swoop past in the other direction, back towards town. Was that coincidence, or had she wanted to get a second look at me?
I guess I’d find out if a bunch of her friends suddenly showed up to gawk.
“Sam?”
“Sorry.” I turned my attention back to Rose. “Just saw a pegasus fly overhead and I was trying to remember if I knew her.” That wasn’t exactly true, but it was a reasonable excuse. “Kind of a medium blue with a lighter blue mane and tail.”
“That’s a lot of ponies,” Rose said. “Did you see her cutie mark?”
“Not all that well. I’m sure I’ve seen her around town, though.”
•••
It was a market day, so after we’d eaten, Daisy hitched herself up to their market wagon and the rest of us loaded it for her, and then she and Lily left for the market.
Rose and I should have gone back to work. Even though neither of us wanted to say it, I was sure I’d slowed them down just by being there and being a distraction.
“I never knew that about Daisy,” I said. “You never told me.”
“She’s kind of shy about it,” Rose told me. “I’m surprised she said anything; usually she just puts her head down and ignores the conversation.
“It must have been hard for her growing up to be a half-breed. Unicorns wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her, ‘cause she didn’t have a horn, and earth ponies would think she was too skinny and weak and wouldn’t like her casting magic.”
I thought I knew exactly why Daisy had warmed up to me, but I kept my mouth shut. Rose might have made the connection in her mind, too, but she didn’t say anything.
Before we could brood, I changed the subject. “Since they’re at market today, you’re supposed to cook dinner, right?”
Rose nodded. “But there’s still plenty of time to work in the flowerbeds.”
“I’ve got an idea I think that they’ll like. Remember that stir-fry I made for you? What if I make that? Have you got enough vegetables?”
“We don’t have bright peppers, only the green ones,” she said. “Does it matter what kind of vegetables you put in?”
“Not really.” In a stir-fry, the vegetables all tended to get along with each other. “When it’s time to start making it, show me where all the food is. You’ve got cooking oil and a big pan and a knife, right?”
“Of course. What kind of kitchen doesn’t?”
“There are people on Earth who only have a pot and a bowl and a spoon in their kitchen,” I said. “You’d be surprised how many boxed meals you can make with just that.” I got up and walked toward the backyard, with Rose following, and we settled into place along the flowerbeds.
“How are you feeling?” Rose asked. “If—you can put your shorts back on if you’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine.” And that was the truth. “This is really nice, honestly. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. And it’s lots better than cleaning outhouses with Honey Dipper.”
Rose stuck out her tongue. “Anything would be. She sells really good fertilizer, though.”
I hadn’t thought about that, even though she’d told me that was what she did with it. I reflected back on the stinking pits and barrels, and the less smelly rows of composting waste, and then the rich loam that made up the flowerbeds. Maybe one day, some of the fruits of my labor would be added to the soil.
“She said that ponies in Canterlot and Manehattan don’t want to see manure wagons during the day, and some ponies in Ponyville don’t want to, either.”
“‘Cause they don’t want to think about where their food comes from,” Rose said. “All of us farmers know, though.”
“Do any farmers make their own compost?”
“Sure, especially if they’ve got animals.” She leaned down to a blood-red rose and snipped the stem off. “Not in town, though; nopony wants that.”
•••
Squash and radishes and carrots provided plenty of color for the stir-fry. Since it had been so popular with Rose, I made plenty, alternating between cutting and frying. There wasn’t really a big enough pan to cook them all at once, so I put the cooked veggies in a casserole dish in the oven to keep them warm.
I sliced the vegetables as thin as I could manage, which took a little bit of extra time but was totally worth it.
Being out of the sun was nice, although the kitchen got hot, even with the windows open. The stove had very little insulation on its outside, which I suppose was typical of wood stoves.
Aside from the heat, I had to be careful of the hot oil. Rose offered me an apron, which was more of a bib on me, so I turned it down. Still, I had plenty of practice from cooking at home, and only got hit with a few drops of hot oil.
When the four of us sat down to dinner, Daisy and Lily looked at the vegetables admiringly. “You didn’t have to have somepony come and cut them,” Lily said. “Thicker vegetables would have been fine.”
“Sam cut them,” Rose said.
I half expected Lily to push her plate away, but she didn’t. “Really?”
I nodded.
“That must have taken forever.”
“It didn’t take all that long.” I was no expert chef, but even so I could chop up a vegetable in under a minute.
“It’s good.” Daisy was admiring her dinner the proper way, by eating it. “It’s really good. Rose, did you have Sam cook dinner for us?”
“We were behind on cutting flowers, and I can do it better than Sam can.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have a knife cutie mark.”
“Humans don’t get cutie marks,” I reminded her.
“No coat, no tail, no cutie mark, big udders . . . I’m glad I’m a pony.”
Daisy frowned. “That was rude, Lily. Sam can’t help being born a human. Maybe if she got to choose, she’d be something else, but she’s not and so she has to make the best of what she is.”
“I don’t want to argue at the dinner table.”
“You shouldn’t have brought it up, then.” Daisy pounded her hoof on the table, rattling the dishes. “Why not appreciate how many buckets of flowers she can carry at once or how she can cut the vegetables really thin instead of saying mean things about Rose’s—about our friend.”
“I wasn’t trying to be rude, you’re the one who’s got burrs in her tail.” Lily stuck her nose in her bowl and took a mouthful of stir fry. Once she’d finished chewing, she looked in my direction. “We get along fine, don’t we?”
“Yeah, of course we do.” That wasn’t true, but if it stopped the argument, it was worth saying.
I turned to Daisy. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know if I’d want to be a pony. I like having hands, and I don’t know how I’d feel about having a tail or a coat. Seems like it would be hot all the time and take forever to dry.”
“I’m sorry.” Daisy hung her head. “I was being rude. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Your heart was in the right place. And that’s what matters. There’s plenty more stir-fry, so you can have seconds if you want.”