//------------------------------// // Cranky Doodle Donkey // Story: The Reservation // by Kyuubi325 //------------------------------// State of Lincoln Coolidge City Little Jerusalem 6:15 AM The beeping sound of a digital alarm clock filled the small bedroom for a few moments before a shaking grey hoof felt around and finally tapped the clock. Immediately silencing the racket, the sound of the rooms solitary occupant sighing gently replacing it. Eventually, the old donkey finally sat up in his bed, pulling himself into a sitting position with his back-hooves hanging off the edge. Taking a deep breath he slid himself off moving his front hooves forward, grunting as he felt his old bones creak and click inside of him. Ignoring the pains that came with age he slowly trotted out of the room and into the adjunct kitchen/living area, with his eyes focused on the coffee maker. “What to drink today?.....” Cranky mumbled scratching his chin as he looked over the selection of Keurig capsules. “Cold Stone Caramel Latte? Ah, that sounds good....” He mumbled grasping the cup from the rack and placing it into the coffee maker, just as he pressed the button his charging iPhone started to beep incessantly. “Hmmm?... what could that be?...” Raising his eyebrow he trotted over time the phone and tapped the screen, showing an event alert. He just stared at it for a few minutes, all it said was Matilda. He just stared at it for a moment before slowly turning his head to the wall where a slightly torn and burnt poster and two crumpled tickets were framed. Despite the damage, the flamboyance of the poster wasn’t lost, with the bright colored prints, and exquisite detail. The Grand Canterlot Cultural Exhibition was written in large fancy font above an image of the various races of Equis. He and his wife had always found the depiction of the races a bit cartoonish... but the event had been made into a worldwide phenomenon, Equestria's princesses spared no expense for it. Creatures from the furthest corners of the globe had traveled to attend, with countless nations sending their best to share their culture. It... was likely the best few weeks of his and Matilda's lives. The sights, sounds, smells of exotic foods, it was incredible to see so many races altogether, sharing their cultures in peace. Even races feared the world over like the Storm Creatures and Sphinx attended under the banner of truce. Staring at the tickets framed just to the left of the poster blankly for a few moments he sniffed. The sound of the coffee maker finishing brought him out of his thoughts, grabbing the mug he brought it to his lips and sipped. “Meh... It’s alright.... a bit sweet.....” He slowly made his way into the bathroom, wanting to finish getting ready for the day. A stallion his age had a lot to do before he was ready to go out into the world after all. He promptly kicked the door closed behind him, after a few moments the sounds of the shower could be heard. ———————————————————- Cranky straitened his blonde toupée and slowly dusted off his suit before slowly making his way to the door. Stopping to slip his keys into his pocket with his phone he made his way out after locking the door behind him. Luckily for his old joints, he didn’t have to climb any steps to get out of the building. It was a straight walk down the hall to the street, and what a street it was. Little Jerusalem was a hive of activity, the various businesses were slowly opening, everything from convenience stores and specialized grocers to delis and restaurants. Most owned by the Jewish residents, but some were owned by donkeys and mules. After the war, many donkeys and mules had found unexpected kinship with the locals. Finding that beyond some outwards appearances they had a similar history and beliefs. Over time the two communities grew close, with many of the European and American Jewish immigrants helping the donkeys back on to their hooves. The two communities had become nearly inseparable, with many synagogues in Lincoln having a donkey temple nearby, sometimes side by side. Often even sharing their holidays with one another. Cranky smiled gently as his light brown greying muzzle caught the sent of the first bagels of the day being set on display. Looking to his right he saw Sacha Finkelsztajn, a rather famous deli that had been transplanted all the way from France to the new fledgling state. Testing the door with his hoof he made his way inside and headed to the counter where, Little Jerusalems resident and only changeling resided, currently dressed in an apron. “Hey, dad...” Kevin smiled gently at the old stallion. “What can I get you?” Cranky looked over the menu in deep thought. “I’ll have my usual bagel with lox... sunny side up egg...extra pickles... my coffee this morning was rich enough thank you.” He said gently while the changeling got to work. “How’s your new job treating you son?” “Sacha is strict, but he treats me well. Thanks for getting me this job dad... it’s actually nice...” The changeling smiled gently as he toasted the bagel. “I thought you might like it.” He frowned a bit. “I know how hard it used to be for you to be... social..” “Ya... even after Thorax, changelings still had a bad rap... especially... unreformed ones.” He made little air quotes with his black hooves. “They just didn’t understand...” Cranky mumbled as the smells of the sizzling egg hit his nose. “Isn’t that the truth....” Kevin started to pile the salmon lox, following it with the egg, and hoof full of pickles. He then expertly wrapped it to go with his magic. “But that’s in the past...” “It is...” Cranky said solemnly while Kevin levitated the parcel to his adopted father. “You're going to visit her... aren’t you?...” Kevin asked not letting go of the meal despite being in Cranky’s hoof. “It’s our anniversary Kevin... I have to go...” He mumbled out, which the changeling just stared and let go of his breakfast. “Alright... before you go... let me pack you a lunch...” Kevin pulled out a paper bag and started to fill it with a few items including a fresh pickle. “On the house.” Cranky knew better than to protest, of all the things Kevin had picked up from him, it was his stubbornness. “Thanks...” He took the bagged lunch and set it on his back. Just as he turned to leave Kevin spoke up again. “Dad... send her my best... please?...” Kevin asked looking the old donkey in the eye. Cranky just nodded his head sadly before heading out of the deli. He didn’t know what else to say. The trip to the bus stop was a quiet one for him, beyond the occasional greeting of someone he saw at temple or at his preferred deli. Once he arrived at the bus stop he only had to wait a short time on the bench before he boarded the bus and took an empty seat near the back. Not out of any preference, he just didn’t want to be disturbed. As the bus started to pull away from the stop be looked out the window with a bored expression watching the city pass him by. Even years later he found it strange being in a city where ponies weren’t a majority. Humans could be seen milling about on the sidewalks outside, while the occasional Donkey, Gryphon, or even Diamond Dog could be seen. None of which found it odd, accept for him. Though perhaps it was his age, his years brought wisdom, but over time it also brought complacency. He slowly leaned his head against his hoof as the bus started to drive out onto the freeway. He had three hours to rest his old eyes, he wasn’t about to waste them. ———————————————————- Cranky awoke to the feeling of someone gently tapping his shoulder. Grunting a bit as he started to wake up he found the bus driver looming over him. “Last stop... Sanlow...” Cranky let out a yawn and nodded his head slowly struggling to his hooves. “Thanks.....” He mumbled under his breath as he slowly trotted down the aisle and off the bus. Eventually, he was greeted with an almost idyllic town. Human children could be seen running down the sidewalks, while their parents followed close behind. Small local shops with a vintage boutique flair, he even stopped to eye a large wheel of stinky Limburger cheese in the window of one of the shops. He seemed to think for a moment before slipping inside. The beaconing smells simply too much for him. Entering the store he was greeted by a faint chill vaguely reminding him of an icebox. All around him there were brick walls, lined with wooden shelves, which held a variety of different cheeses. Soon his eyes focused on a free sample platter near an antique register, resting upon a rather ordinate bar. Seeing a few pieces of Limburger on the tray he trotted over and grasped one, bringing to his muzzle to sniff. Enjoying the powerful smell he proceeded to toss it into his mouth. “Good huh?” He nearly jumped out of his skinny hearing the voice behind him. Quickly turning around an old tan-skinned woman done up in a frilly apron. “O-oh... My apologies... I was just browsing...” He said a bit nervous. “Nothing to apologize for dear, I left out those samples specifically to attract customers.” She smiled gently. “Anything you're interested in?” “Oh... the Limburger... I’ve never quite had one as creamy as it before... or as pungent...” He chuckled a bit. “I think I’ll take a bit to go with my lunch.” Nodding her head she pulled a small block of the Limburger cheese, setting it on the counter. “2 ounces good?” She asked. “Can’t imagine I’ll eat much more than that.” He mumbled a bit. “Alright... that will be $3.78...” She rang him up on the old register. Cranky dug into his pockets pulling out his wallet and setting four dollars on the counter. She slowly took them and set them into the register before hanging him his change. “Thank you.” “You're going up there aren’t you?.....” She looked at him solemnly, looking him in the eyes to which he grunted, nodding his head. “... it’s going to rain... try to get there before it does...” She said gently to which he nodded. Slipping the small brick of cheese into his paper bag lunch, he made his way out. Looking upwards to see the clouds were amassing above him. All he could do was to pick up the pace, not wanting to be late or to have his suit ruined in the rain. Already a few drops were starting to fall from above. ——————————————————— Cursing as he made his way down the sidewalk he could see the entrance to the Relocation Camp visitors center. The original high fences around the cursed place still standing, with the iron gates wide open in the rain, it almost reminded him of the maw of a hungry beast. He stumbled past the rusting gates avoiding looking at the burned bunkhouses in various states of decay behind the fences. Focused on getting inside the visitor's center, eventually sitting down on one of the wooden benches near the center of the room. Shivering a bit as he worked to catch his breath, it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. But his old age certainly was showing after that near gallop to the historic site. If he wasn’t so frugal he might just consider using an Uber to get there! He allowed himself to relax his tired joints, thankful for the heating in the area, though he didn’t care too much for the music. Looking up he started at the photographs covering the walls. Groups of melancholic looking diamond dogs, donkeys, Minotaurs, Gryphons, Hippogriffs, Kirin, even the mighty Dragons and Sphinxes could be seen. All ages, all socioeconomic classes, it didn’t matter, they were placed together. Once he had gathered his strength once again, he clambered back onto his hooves and made his way to the booth where a young man waited. “Um...one, please... It’s free of charge... look under...Doodle...” He asked the man nodded typing in the name before the sound of the pass being printed out reached his ears. “Would you like an audio guide?” The man asked softly, to which Cranky shook his head. “No... I can read... and I know the history well enough...” He said without any grace of humor. To which the man slid the ticket to the donkey and nodded his head. “Have a good day sir...” He said gently to which Cranky just nodded his head taking the ticket and making his way to the entrance. Showing his pass and pushing past the turnstile he was first greeted with a glass enclosure, where some graveled earth waited behind. But it wasn’t the gravel he was focused on as he approached, it was what rested on it. A pile of horseshoes, bags, and clothing of various sizes and shapes... pilled several feet high. He stared at it blankly, before turning down the corridor. He paid little mind to the other exhibits simply focusing on the theater where they were playing interviews on loop. Entering it he sat down on one of the benching having ample choices of seating. Once he was comfortable he turned his attention to the screen. The film seemed to be in the middle of the Life before the Camps section, currently transitioning to a Minotaur. “I still remember the Exhibition... one moment I was enjoying some food while watching a Sphinx play... next moment it felt like the entire world what ending... the powerful tremors knocking me down along with my wife...” The Bull on the screen just seemed to pause staring off into the distance. “Everyone knows what happened after that... Equestria found itself in the middle of your ocean... the Pacific?... a few days later me and my wife were sitting in the hotel room... that’s when it hit us... we weren’t going home... home was gone... it... broke us... so much of our family were back home in Minos... and now?.. we’d never see them again...” He almost choked. “Equestria wasn’t our home... but suddenly it was the only home we had... For a while things were ok... The princess was meeting with your leaders... then she started to change... she closed the borders... no one knew what was going on...not until...until...” He looked down with a broken expression on his face, tears leaking down. The video transitioned to a male Zebra. “You know... it happened so suddenly... at first despite the entire country being transported to another world... everything seemed to run like it did before... they said maintaining normalcy was important...but then after about a year... rumors started to spread that we weren’t Equestrians.... we were a danger to the safety of Equestria... Posters started to pop up around my shop... They weren’t very flattering for us...” He sighed slowly brushing his mohawk back, leaning into the side of the chair. “One day they slapped a big poster on my used book shop... Marking it as a non-pony business... I tried to take it down... but was fined heavily for it...I tried to make the best of it... doing everything I could to keep my shop afloat. Offering sales, trying to lure shoppers in with free cookies, heck even standing outside spinning a sign... I was still avoided... many once-loyal customers giving both me and my store a wide birth. Always avoiding my gaze...But despite the difficulties, I managed to keep the place afloat... But then...one day I was notified my business was being seized and I was moving somewhere... for my own safety they said...” The screen slowly transitioned again to a young pink Hippogriff, she was sitting in a chair and sniffed. “It’s funny sometimes... my mother used to tell me... you learn the true value of your friends when things get tough...I never thought about it much... my life was never that hard... I never wanted for anything... friendship always came easily to me... even after Convergence... but...a few months after Celestia closed the borders and raised the first barrier... things started to change... ponies I used to talk with everyday avoided me... when I tried to buy groceries... I was sternly asked to leave... they said... I was upsetting the customers... I ended up having to walk several miles to a Yak owned shop just to get milk!... but one pony friend still came and saw me... Sandbar...” She sniffed her eyes tearing up a bit with a faint smile on her beak. “With so many ponies turning against me... it was... nice to have an old friend from the School of Friendship to talk with... He was my best friend... at least I thought he was...” She visibly seemed to struggle with what came next. “T-then while we were having dinner together in my apartment... I heard a knock at the door... and opened it to some royal guard ponies... who had a bunch of those Newfoals with them... no one knew where they came from at the time... just that they stared blankly into the distance... with those creepy smiles... The guards said my housing was being seized for them... and that I was going to be relocated for my own safety... they grabbed my shoulders and started to lead me out... I begged Sandbar to help me... to do... something... anything!... but he just turned his head away and closed his eyes while they took me...” The screen eventually changed to a title card labeled Life in the Camps changed to an elderly female donkey and Cranky’s heart started to break. She had an oxygen mask on her muzzle, her sad eyes looking deep into the camera, and the stallions soul. “Life in the relocation camps was harsh... for many races, this was an entirely new experience... for Donkeys?... it was the age-old saying... history repeats... the only difference was this time we had more varied company...” She pauses hacking into her hoof through the mask. “Life in the camps was harsh... having so many different races in one place... with varied diets?... food wasn’t always easy for us all to get... So many of us crammed into those bunkhouses... nearly on-top of each other... me and my husband had to share a single bunk... there wasn’t nearly enough room for the two of us...so he slept on the muddy floor...” She breathed into her mask attempting to catch her breath. “I remember looking into the eyes of my neighbors... so many of them scared and confused... right in front of my bed there was a Sphinx... when she first arrived at camp she was... a proud creature... a bright coat... fierce eyes...” She sniffed inhaling as best she could from the mask. She seemed to look away staring into space. “Firewood ran out after the food did... without the little heat the wood stove gave out, the bunkhouses got very cold... ice would form on the sheets... the guards started to get nasty... started snapping and punishing us for anything... even things we didn’t do... punishments got severe... before they would just transfer you to a less desirable work details for minor infractions... over time a minor infraction would get you tossed into solitary... the guards started to look skinny... get bags under their eyes... they would snap just for looking at them...” She sniffed a tear slowly leaking out of the corner of her eye. She pressed the mask against her muzzle inhaling shutting breaths. “That quiet Sphinx from before...as the weeks rolled on... her coat became patchy... she thinned...the light slowly left her eyes... one morning when the guard was banging on the sliding door to the bunkhouse to wake up... we all moved... she didn’t... the guard spent... I don’t know how long trying to get her to move... even beating her with their spears...then one of them finally got the idea to check her pulse... they all went silent and wide-eyed...they closed the door after that... I never knew her name... no one did... she didn’t talk to anyone... We couldn’t even properly mourn her because of that...” She shifted in the chair being careful with the oxygen hose, her eyes visibly tearing up. “She wasn’t the first or the last... so many got sick or starved in those conditions... some of the guards tried to help us... pass us a little of their food when the other guards weren’t looking...” The was visibly crying now but managed to keep her voice steady. “Glimmering Mace... He would always pass me part of his oat cake when he would do his rounds around the encampment... He was always so... nice... he didn’t like what was happening... but he knew if he did anything to protest... Captain Moral Fiber would replace him with somepony of... greater faith...” She shuttered. “A solar zealot to the bone... and the closest thing in my life I could call true evil... He once had a Diamond Dog beaten for not being silent while he and his stallions observed the sunrise... she was in labor... she tried... goodness she tried to be silent... but the pain of the birth was too much for her...he ordered five of his most loyal stallions to drag her out to the middle of the yard... and beat her... while she was helpless on her back... making us all watch as they slammed their spears against her body... her pups... they..... they didn’t make it... a few days later she died from the injuries as well...” She was looking down steadily losing her composure. “Weeks rolled on... conditions continued to deteriorate in the camp... soon even Moral Fiber was looking skinny and pale...” She chuckled almost darkly. “He started punishing us by withholding our rations... but everybody knew the truth... he wasn’t withholding anything... wagons rarely showed up to the camp anymore... his stallions looking sickly... they had run out of food... Mace told me while sneaking a hoof full of stale barley...” She looked back at the camera. “Then one night while me and my husband were attempting to warm ourselves together... we heard hammering coming from the doors of the bunkhouse... We could see the nails being hammered through the wood... then the smell of burning pitch... Everyone around us woke up smelling the smoke and rushed to the sliding doors... only to find them hammered shut! Being so close to death... we couldn’t hope of breaking through the wood! Even the large Sphinx and yaks looked like leather draped over skeletons...” “Just as we started to see the flames licking the walls around us...with many already beginning to pray to their gods and ancestors to guide them safely to the afterlife...we were ready for death... we all welcomed it... then we heard these loud... pops outside! Gunshots I think they're called... the royal guards shouting and seemingly stampeding around outside. Then.. it was as if Elyon himself struck down the walls to splitters, with my ears ringing all I heard was... move... move... from an unfamiliar voice... everyone stampeded outside. Seeing American soldiers... and the body’s of the royal guard skewed around... we were all terrified... starved.... confused... but cooler heads prevailed... if only just... it’s amazing what some food will do to soothe fears.....” She looked away seemingly into the distance. “While they helped evacuate us... me and my husband were boarding the truck to be evacuated to their... FOB?... I think it was called?... I saw a body chained to the fence... It was... Mace... rushing over I attempted to wake him up... he had hoof marks all over him... and he was ice cold... I begged the soldiers to take him with us... they looked confused... my husband protested... but in the end, they wrapped him up and set him in the truck with us... I... couldn’t let him rot with the others... I just couldn’t...” “The thing that really makes my blood boil... is that after all that... Captain Moral had survived... hiding under his own desk of all places... I remember seeing him being dragged in chains to one of the... Humvee’s?” Her face turned into a scowl. “All that cruelty, just...seemingly gone once he was caught... reduced to a sobbing foal... In the face of someone who could fight back.” She looked back into the camera, a look of pure determination on her face. “Which is why I made sure the world knew of his cruelty during the Dallas Trails... once he got what he deserved I knew I could rest....” Cranky watched the screen fade to black, his wife had insisted that she take part in this. So the world would know what happened here, she didn’t care about her failing health. Her only concern was making sure she did her part, they took so many takes... it exhausted her... but she was as stubborn as he was. Getting up he made his way out of the theater. Slowly making his way past a granite wall memorial chiseled with the names of all those who had been lost in the camp. He took a moment staring at it remembering more than a few of them. His heart aching despite the years that had passed. He lowered his head continuing his walk eventually sitting down to stare at the final exhibit dedicated to the survivors who brought Captain Moral Fiber and those like him to justice. He gazed at the many faces before finally settling his eyes on one. A picture of his late wife with a smile on her face despite the solemn nature of its surroundings. Below it was captained Matilda Donkey, 43 B.L.R.-2025 A.D. “Hope and Kindness is a candle in the darkness of despair and hatred.” He couldn’t hold them back anymore, the tears were finally coming out as he stared at her smiling face. It was just too much for him to hear her talk, and see that dedication. Working up the strength he finally spoke. “Happy anniversary Milly....” He smiles sadly as he stood there, the few visitors giving him a wide birth, out of respect. Knowing just what he had lost.