We have a two-seater kayak. It has a custom paint job on it. One half is colored mint green and brown, and the other half is colored pale blue and peach. My little sister and I used to take out the kayak a lot. We were cooped up in the house a lot as foals when we weren’t at school. And kayaking was one of the few ways we got out, and Ma and Pa approved ‘cause they thought it’d be a nice non-violent way for me and my sister to spend time together in nature.
Ma and Pa never went kayaking with my sister. They can’t swim—only wild swamp ponies know how to swim—and I have wings so I can save myself if Cozy tipped over the kayak or did something naughty liked that.
That never happened. My sister would never do that kind of thing to me in any case.
I remember starting when I was nine and she was five, we’d take the kayak and paddle out to a secret spot on the bayou where Ma and Pa couldn’t watch us. We didn’t have just one secret spot. The swamp forest is so thick in the summer that you could be fifty yards away and be invisible.
Invisible. That’s it. My sister and I were invisible.
I sharpened a little branch against a rock to give to my sister. She stabbed a few little swamp creatures ‘cause she secretly liked to do that. She never really caused that much harm—her aim was pretty bad, she missed half of the time. And it wasn’t a secret, really. Ma and Pa told her to stop stabbing swamp creatures, and she promised, but the secret was that she didn’t actually promise.
I pwomise Mommy. Boo-hoo! I pwomise I’ll never do it again!
You too, Daddy. I pwomise I’ll never do it again!
You too, sis. I promise pwomise I’ll never do it again!
Now I apologized, do you wanna be friends again?
Sis?
Mommy?
Daddy?
So that was her secret. I told my sister about my secrets too. My secret crushes. When I was nine I used to have a huge crush on a colt at my school. He was named Lotus Paradise, and he was just as handsome as his name sounds. I’ve had crushes on colts since I was in kindergarten—about my sister’s age at the time.
I also asked my sister: “Do you have a crush on any colt at school?”
“No.”
“Do you like any colt outside school?”
“No.”
“Even as a friend? C’mon, this is kayak time. You can tell me, I promise I won’t tell.”
“No.”
“There any fillies you like?”
“No.”
“Do…do you like anypony?”
“No.”
“Do you like me?”
“No.”
And then I remember real clearly what I said after that. “But you can’t not be friends with anypony, Cozy. You’ll never be successful just depending on yourself. You gotta have friends to help you out, because they may be good at things that you aren’t good at. Only if you make friends, then you’ll be powerful.”
I was nine. I didn’t know a word better than “powerful,” like “influencer” or “popular.” I just had to tell her the word…“powerful.”
I hate my nine-year-old self.
“Like how do you make friends?” my sister asked.
“Well, you could say hi to somepony—make sure you smile—and then say something nice to them. And then maybe…ask them something like…‘wanna be friends’?”
“‘Wanna pee…fwiends?’”
“Yeah. Like that. You try.”
“Erm…hi sis.” She smiled a little crooked. “Your mane looks as nice as mine. Waaaa…nabe…fweinds?”
“Ya almost got it.” I spoke real slow for her. “Wa…nna…be…friends…”
“Wanna…be…friends…wanna be friends…wanna be friends?”
“Yes. You got it.”
“Wanna be friends? Wanna be friends?”
“Sure, Cozy. Of course I’ll be your friend.”
“Wanna be friends?
“Wanna be friends?”
She wouldn’t stop saying that the whole afternoon on the kayak.
Now that I can’t go kayaking in the bayou with my sister anymore, I go out kayaking with Biscuit and Bloofy. We went out a few days after Hearth’s Warming, when all the family had gone on back to their homes.
“When’s he coming over?” Ma asked me in the kitchen.
“After his dance lessons. I’ll go out to the pier and wait for him.”
“It’s mighty chilly, hon. Why don’t ya finish yer lunch, and then wait inside till he gets here?”
We were eating Hearth’s Warming leftovers for the third day in a row. I was starting to get sick of my own peach cobbler filling. “It’s all right,” I said. “I’m gonna be outside anyway.”
That day, Ma and Pa were reframing some old pictures of my little sister. And I couldn’t stand the sounds of them crying all morning. Not that I hate crying. It’s just…I kinda wanted to leave. I wasn’t even crying that much, and it made me feel like I was different. I peeped into my sister’s room, where Ma and Pa were, and I caught a glimpse of a picture of my sister that they were looking at. And I remember I was just thinking to myself, that a’int her. That smiling little swiss-roll foal with the curly mane and the cute violet knit cap and hoof covers, hugging a plush dolly like it’s her best friend—that a’int her. I didn’t say that to Ma and Pa. Because I know that’ll hurt their feelings.
But I wanted to say it.
Does that I mean I want to hurt Ma and Pa’s feelings?
So anyway I hovered outside around the backyard in the damp cold all by myself, waiting for Biscuit to arrive from his dance lessons.
Our flat backyard has a little gravel embankment to prevent it from eroding into the bayou water. Maybe there’s a part of her that’s keeping our backyard nice and flat. All right, I know it’s unlikely, since the Everfree Forest is so far away, but…it a’int that far. Somepony could’ve carried a piece of gravel—or even a fraction of a piece—from the Everfree, to Ponyville, onto the train, to Hayseed Junction. And I’ve walked plenty of times from home to Hayseed Junction.
I picked up one of the pieces of gravel on the embankment. Not the one that sort of looked like my sister. The one that sort of felt like my sister. It was rough and jagged round the corners, but soaked in the water so that it sort of glistened in the light. It kind of looked like a gem, but only if you were stupid enough not to realize it was just a thin coat of water.
A lot of ponies are stupid.
I took the piece of gravel and I dropped it into the water. It went plosh, into the water. Just like that. I was hearing my sister’s voice in my head again—I hear her most often when I’m alone—but when the rock fell into the water, it just turned into a muffled glub glub glub.
I stared at the water for a while, then I picked up another piece of gravel. And the whole process started again.
“Whatcha doing?” Biscuit said.
I got shocked by his voice. I quickly put down the gravel. “You…you finished your dance lessons?”
“Yeah. Whatcha doing?”
Guess I couldn’t get round that question. “I…I’m skippin’ stones.”
“Here. Lemme try. Hee…YAH!” He took the piece of gravel and he kicked it real hard, like a buckball, with his strong earth pony legs. I winced. The gravel skipped across the water, hitting the surface a good seven or eight times. I winced every time.
“You…you all right?”
“Yeah.”
“C’mon. It’s just a piece of gravel.”
“Just.”
I guess my sister’s fate ain’t that different from what happens when we all die. I never really thought about it until…well, recently, but, well…it’s true, ain’t it? It’s like the wild swamp pony carcasses that you see floating in the bayou water sometimes. You paddle by there one day, and the body’s floating in the water. The next day, they’re bugs eating at the flesh. Soon it’s just a bunch of bone hanging by a fallen tree branch. Soon it’s just little…bits in the ground…that you’d step on never thinking it was a dead pony.
No matter how kind I am. No matter how evil I am. I’m gonna be a piece of gravel someday. So will Biscuit. So will Bloofy.
Just like my sister.
“Hello? Spur? You there…?” Biscuit waved a hoof over my face.
“Nothing,” I said, picking up another piece of gravel from the embankment. “I was just staring at you.”
Biscuit didn’t blush, instead he gave me a confused look. “Hmm…kay?”
“What?” I said.
“Erm…well…?”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm.”
“Yeah.”
We both laughed.
“Ready to go?” I said.
“Sure.”
Bloofy purred in agreement.
We left the shore around two o’clock that afternoon. Inside the kayak, I sat on my tail and covered my mane with a thick knit cap. I liked that a lot. I could stare at my reflection in the water and feel like not my sister for a moment. Until my super springy mane started poking out the cap. That always happens when I wear hats.
It was a cold and rainy winter day. I’d never gone kayaking in the winter before. Biscuit brought a raincoat and some galoshes, but the wind with the rain still made his mane a little wet. The rainwater seeped right through my knit cap. Clearing the sky would’ve been too much work for just me.
But it didn’t really matter, in any case. My mane is just as curly when it’s drenched by rain.
I paddled us to one of the hidden places where my sister and I used to share our secrets. All the trees were barren in the winter and the forest exposed, so it wasn’t like when I went kayaking with Cozy.
We weren’t invisible.
I packed some food for me, Bloofy, and Biscuit to eat. We drank hot tea and we ate, well, biscuits. The real bland kind that Bloofy can also eat.
“This cookie is gross,” Biscuit said. “There’s like, zero sugar.”
“Well, give yours to Bloofy. I’m sure he don’t mind your saliva.” Biscuit gave Bloofy a few bites. Bloofy smiled.
“I think he likes you,” I said. I gestured a little, with a smile, and Biscuit pet his fur.
“Heh, he sure does. Even after the whole…”
“Oh, don’t you worry about it. Sure, you took Bloofy against my wishes…and he ended up destroying half of Appaloosa because of you…”
“…because of me?” Biscuit said. “Bloofy deserves at least some of the credit.”
“Well how was I supposed to know he’d go into full tornado mode like that?”
Biscuit looked pretty angry. “I don’t know, maybe you should’ve figured that out before you decided to keep such a dangerous creature as your pet!”
Bloofy smiled at Biscuit again. He obviously can’t understand a word we’re saying. That’s why I giggled.
“Well, Biscuit,” I said, “I’m gonna turn a blind eye to the Appaloosa fair incident ‘cause Princess Twilight agreed to foot the bill using her royal entertainment allowance. Plus, the fact I’m taking you out kayaking in the winter, when the water’s nice and the bugs aren’t out…I’m just gonna say, you owe me. Big time,” I teased.
Biscuit calmed down. “Like, owe you what?”
“Nothin’. I’m just saying if I need a favor from you sometime, you better say yes.”
Biscuit chuckled. “Okay, Spur. Whatever you say.”
Biscuit was quiet for a bit. He’s afraid of something. I think it’s my mane. I remind him of my evil younger sister. I poured myself some hot tea—I closed my eyes to smell the aroma—and I saw her again. In stone. Frozen at that smile. I shivered.
“I like your…hat,” Biscuit said.
“Please…don’t remind me.” A bit of my curly mane was staring to poke out. I pulled the knit cap down a little lower. Biscuit likes my mane. He thinks my curly mane looks cute, and his friends at school make fun of him for that. “The Cozy Glow mane,” they call it.
I got a little annoyed because I already told Biscuit to stop complementing my mane. I don’t even feel right if he compliments the color. I told him already. Anything about my mane is off limits.
I started paddling towards the shore. “Biscuit…you don’t think I’m evil, do you?”
“No.”
“Well you know how they stare at my mane. And how much I look like…”
“You’re a different pony. It matters what’s on the inside, not on the outside.”
But it’s not just the outside. I hear my sister’s voice inside me.
Wanna be friends? Wanna be friends?
Wait. That was me. That was my voice. I taught her to say that.
“Are you…afraid of me?” I said out loud.
“Course not, why’d you think that? We’re friends.”
“Come on. Th-there must’ve been at least one time you were scared of me.”
“No, not at all.”
I insisted, and Biscuit finally admitted something. “Well…there was that one time you didn’t want me to leave your house cause you wanted to keep playing buckball with me. And they way you screamed 'don't go'…it sounded a little scary.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You…you’re kind of cute when you get mad, actually.” He blushed.
Biscuit’s the only pony at school that still talks to me as a friend. There are ponies that do actually talk to me at school and not just give me their lunch money, but they always ask me about my sister. How is she doing in Tartarus. What gonna happen to her now she’s turned to stone. Whether she ever behaved violently at home. Whether she was ever abused.
Biscuit’s not like that. I remember the day the news got out that my sister got sent to Tartarus, and everypony from parents to teachers to students asked me about her.
Biscuit was the only who asked me, “And how are you feeling, Spur?”
I don’t know why he’s the only one who still talks to me like a friend. Maybe he knows something that other ponies don’t. Like, some…fundamental truth or whatever. I never asked him.
We paddled back home to the pier. I tied up the kayak, and I lifted Biscuit and Bloofy off the boat with my wings.
“Look, Spur, I’m can’t imagine what it’s like dealing with your sister gone, after all those horrible things she did. You must have a lotta mixed emotions. If you ever wanna talk about it…”
I sighed. “You…you wanna come inside?” I opened the back door to our house. I let the warm air from the fire flow out.
“Erm…sure.” It was already 4 o’clock. “I’ll have to leave before dark though—the road back’s pretty lonely, and—”
“Well, you can stay over if you like.”
“I…I don’t think your Ma would let me—”
“Well…Cozy Glow’s old room is empty,” I said. “We’re using it as storage, but I guess you could stay in her room if it’s awkward or whatever.”
“Oh yeah. Guess it works out then.” He stepped inside. I shut the door behind him.
Biscuit’s really cute. I like him a lot. I’m not sure if Biscuit likes me too. I wouldn’t mind one bit if he did.