//------------------------------// // Mr. Maple Rides The Rails // Story: Mr. Maple Takes A Holiday // by defender2222 //------------------------------// Mr. Maple Rides The Rails Doing his best not to look like the slack-jawed yokel that he felt he actually was, Mr. Maple trotted up the steps of Long Grass Corner’s train station before making a beeline for a bench to sit down on. He had much to think about and take in and it wouldn’t do any good to make himself a burden to those travelers that knew where they were going already. There were plenty of important ponies getting on and getting off the trains and he would never want to get in their way. He was just a simple stallion going on a vacation; he had all the time in the world and they didn’t. The first thing he did, once he’d settled down on the bench, was ponywatch. He drank in all those running about, finding himself enjoying the chaotic nature of the train station. Families getting onto carriages to visit relatives. Businessponies heading to meetings and conferences. Workers making sure the train had plenty of coal and water and that luggage was being loaded up and taken off all in the right order. There were several ponies dressed in brown trench coats with fedoras pulled down to hide their eyes and tourists in floral print shirts with cameras around their necks and even what looked to be a cowmare from an old west novel stalking up and down the loading area. It was simply amazing to stare at them all and realized that for so many of them this was just a normal day! Though, he had to admit, he did feel a bit underdressed. Everyone was in suits or their long coats and there was even one pony who was dressed all in black who he assumed was a mime. Mr. Maple was just wearing an old gray baseball cap and his saddle bags. Never really saw the need for much else. But he made a mental note to see about picking up maybe a nice new shirt during his travels. Nothing too fancy but it wouldn’t hurt to treat himself. That decided on he began to look over the destination board to determine where he should actually go. There were many places he’d heard of that he’d like to visit but he thought that, perhaps, with this being his first leg on his first vacation it would be smart to make his first stop someplace simple. Nothing too glamorous or wild. Having reached his decision he trotted up to a ticket window, which had no line at the moment, and asked the bored looking attendant, “Could I get a ticket to Rockville?” “Yes sir,” the mare said, grabbing the binder that held those tickets. “That will be 7 bits. Your train leaves in 30 minutes and will arrive at Rockville at 11am.” But Mr. Maple had begun to frown at that. “So soon? I thought Rockville was farther away than that.” Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the train heading to Neigh Jersey arrive and many of those gathered in the station, including the trenchcoat wearing ponies, hurrying to get on. “I was hoping to have a meal on the train… this is my first time taking a train and I’ve always wondered what having a meal while moving would be like.” He smiled, still bemused by what he was doing. “I’m taking my first vacation ever.” The ticket mare looked at him and her bored look slowly changed to one of polite sympathy. “Well, if you don’t care about your destination then might I suggest the 10:45 to Fillydelphia? It leaves in a few minutes but you can catch it still. That will take 3 hours and they’ll serve lunch.” She paused, getting a slight faraway look in her eye. “It’s a lovely town. I grew up there…” “Well, if you say it is lovely then who am I to say no?” He handed over the bits and thanked the ticket taker before hurrying to board. He never saw the young mare look at a photo of her with her family, which was setting on the counter, before taking out a piece of paper to begin writing her two week notice, dreams of reuniting with her kin dancing through her head. Mr. Maple got onto the train with a few minutes to spare and begin the task of looking for a seat. The car he was in was rather full but there were a few seats available but he didn’t want to take one from someone who might simply be late getting on. Nor did he want to intrude on a private conversation. As such he looked about before settling on a mare wearing a simple business jacket who had the air of someone used to such travel. Which was perfect for him. “Excuse me, ma’am?” he asked, approached the rose-colored mare with a striking long mane. “Is this seat taken?” “Not at all,” she said politely, alleviating some of his fears. He truly didn’t want to be a bother. He’d just settled in when the train lurched forward and despite his best attempts to not look like a fool who had no idea what was going on he couldn’t help but jump slightly at the screech of metal that briefly filled his ears. “Don’t take trains that often?” the mare beside him asked. “Actually this is my first train ride,” he admitted. “I decided I wanted to take a vacation, my very first one mind you, and the first thing I decided to do is ride a train.” “Well, you picked a great first thing to do!” the mare said with a grin. “Train rides are utterly wonderful. A bit noisy and scary at first, if you don’t know what is going on, but I can help you with that, Mr…” “Maple. Mr. Maple.” “Sturdy,” she said, introducing herself. “Now, that first sound you heard…” For the next 2 hours Sturdy taught Mr. Maple not just what the sounds were that seemed to be popping up every couple of seconds but all sorts of other nifty bits of information about train travel. The best places to sit, when to pay for a sleeper car and when to just rough it in a seat, what to order for lunch, those sorts of things. He was utterly thankful for all her help and when the trolley came by selling lunches he insisted he pay for hers, which amused her something fierce though Mr. Maple wasn’t exactly for sure why. Maybe she just wasn’t used to a pony with manners. They were 10 minutes out from the Fillydelphia station when Mr. Maple felt the need to use the bathroom. Excusing himself (and blushing as he asked Sturdy where said bathrooms were), he crossed over into another car and made his way to the stallions room, setting about getting his business taken care of. The bathroom was a small one, not helped by a strange brown bag someone had left tucked behind the toilet, but Mr. Maple made due. At one moment someone pounded on the door and asked him to hurry up and he apologized but he refused to leave without properly washing his hooves and finally the other passenger trotted away. He had just finished drying everything when a scream from outside the door filled his ears. Mr. Maple burst out of the bathroom to find a mare struggling with the mime he’d seen on the platform, both of them half in the mares bathroom. Mr. Maple wasn’t a violent pony. He didn’t believe in kicking up a big fuss and thrashing about. He’d seen stallions that thought they were tough because they slammed into crates and broke things when they were upset. To him that wasn’t strength that was weakness. One had to have control of themselves, to understand their emotions and not let them rule them. That’s why he’d never gotten into a hooffight in school or tussled with someone outside a bar. But that didn’t mean that Mr. Maple didn’t know how to fight… or was unwilling to. His mother and father had taught him that one shouldn’t fight… unless there was no other option or they had the best of reasons. A mare being accosted by some strange stallion was reason enough for him. He rushed forward and lashed out with his right hoof, striking the mime right in the jaw. The fellow went down hard, smacking his head against the sink and twitching slightly but otherwise showing no sign of getting up. Mr. Maple though pushed the mare behind him and began to back away from her attacker, only stopping when some porters rushed in to provide him back up. “Are you alright, Miss Long?” “Yes…” the mare said, catching her breath, “I do believe I am, thanks to this stallion.” “What happened here?” the porter asked while another went to secure the mime. Mr. Maple shook his head. “I was in the bathroom when I heard Miss… Long?” The mare nodded her head. “Miss Long let out a scream. I came out and saw that funny mime trying to grab her and it didn’t look like a performance to me so I socked him one good.” His jaw worked and he looked at the porters nervously. “I hope I haven’t gotten myself into any trouble.” The two shared a look before slowly saying, “No… not at all, sir.” “Good… then do you mind if I escort Miss Long someplace safe? I’m sure you have this under control now but I think it would do her good to not be around that mime anymore.” The porter looked to Miss Long who nodded her head. “That won’t be a problem, sir. Could we get your name though before you leave?” “Mr. Maple, “ he said politely before leading Miss Long back to his carriage and to Sturdy. “Excuse me,” he said, his seatmate looking up and starting slightly at seeing him with a stranger. “Would you mind terribly if Miss Long sat here? My stop is coming up and she just had a fright-“ “O-of course,” Sturdy said, Miss Long hurrying to sit next to the other mare. “Thank you, Mr. Maple. Truly.” “Nah, thank you.” The train whistled and Mr. Maple pulled on his saddlebags and trotted towards the door, giving the two mares a happy wave before disembarking. “Now… where to first!” he said, putting the entire incident with the mime out of his head as he looked for an information desk. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Two hours later Inspector Clue-So of the Equestria National Police boarded the 2pm out of Fillydelphia when it finally arrived in Biscuit Junction and was hit with double glares from two particular mares. “Hello Ms. Sturdy Tracks, Miss Long Tracks,” he said, greeting the two sisters who owned the entire Fast Tracks Train Company. “Inspector,” Ms. Sturdy Tracks said coolly, her earlier smile gone as she scowled at the law enforcement pony. She pulled off the wig she was wearing and shook out her short mane. “Would you mind telling me just WHAT went wrong?” She gestured at her sister. “We asked you and your department to assist us in dealing with the Black Coat Bandit and instead of capturing that brute my sister was attacked by him and a stranger subdued him! All while none of your agents were here to help… apparently none of them were even on the train!” Inspector Clue-So tugged on his tie, the dark blue going well with his red coat, and sighed. “Believe me, ladies, I am just as unhappy as you are. More so, in fact, as I have information you do not.” “Well?” Miss Long asked, arching a single eyebrow. “Please share with us.” Nodding he began to go over the plan they had set up weeks ago… and how it had all fallen apart. “As you know-“ “That is a horribly cliché way to begin a conversation,” Ms. Tracks stated. “-the Black Coat Bandit has been hitting your trains and robbing them for the last 6 months. We had gotten a tip that he was going to be striking the 10:40 to Neigh Jersey and so I arranged for my team to board the train and apprehend him. But now we believe the tip came from the Black Coat Bandit himself, to get my agents on that train while he robbed the one you and your sister were on. He ducked into that train only to quickly exit at the last minute before hiding on the one to Fillydelphia. His plan was to retrieve his weapons from a bag he’d hidden in the stallions restroom and then rob the passengers as they neared the station, escaping into the crowd.” “But thankfully Mr. Maple just happened to be there,” Miss Long Tracks stated. “Yeah… just happened,” Clue-So stated slowly. “What are you thinking, Inspector?” Ms. Tracks asked, her earlier anger fading away with the new information. The Black Coat Bandit had been a cunning thief and she wasn’t all that surprised he’d outsmarted the Equestrian Police. He’d outwitted her own security personnel, after all. Rather than respond right away Inspector Clue-So nodded to several agents who quietly walked out of the train car and shut the doors. Only when the three ponies were alone did Clue-So pull out a small orb, roughly the size of a plum, and place it on the ground. “This is the latest in magical replay technology. It was originally developed by a professor from Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns to allow for playback of lectures but we’ve modified it so that we can use it to replay events at crime scenes.” Lighting up his horn and touching it to the orb an image appeared showing a small scale-model version of the Long Grass Train Station. “Now, that figure on the bench is Mr. Maple, correct?” “It is,” Ms. Tracks confirmed, smiling as she looked at the stallion who had not just saved her sister but been so utterly polite to her. It was rare for her to meet a stallion who respected her opinion on rail travel, as so many ponies thought a mare had no business being in, well, that business. “Notice how he doesn’t go to the ticket booth right away. He instead sits on the bench and observes the crowd. Including-“ He gestured at several ponies in trenchcoats, “my agents,” he waved his hoof at the Black Coat Bandit, “our target. He made each of them despite both my men and the Bandit being world class infiltrators and masters of disguise. He was able to identify them. Now…” his horn glowed and the recording fast forwarded to Mr. Maple at the ticket counter. “We interviewed the mare running the booth and she stated he changed his train last minute from Rockville to Fillydelphia. Look at his eyes.” The recording zoomed in and slowed down to show Mr. Maple glance at the agents getting on the train to Neigh Jersey just as the Bandit got off the same train. “He saw that my men had been fooled and took it upon himself to step in. “Then there is the fact that he chose to sit next to you, Ms. Tracks. He saw through your own disguise and decided to protect you.” The recording stopped as Mr. Maple got on the train. “He could tell you were worried and decided to play up being a ‘scared tourist’ to put you at ease, to get you to focus on other things. Then, as you neared the station…” Miss Long Track picked up the tale, eyes widening in shock as she looked at what had occurred in a new light. “He hid in the bathroom, knowing that the Bandit would need to get in there, hoping to ambush him. But when I came up he was forced to try and attack me in the mares room!” “And he sprung into action and took out the Bandit with a single strike,” Clue-So stated. Ms. Track though shook her head, mildly confused. “But who is this stallion, Inspector. Clearly not one of yours.” “No, and that’s what concerns me… he is clearly a well trained agent, perhaps the best agent I’ve ever seen. And yet I have no idea who ‘Mr. Maple’ is. Or what agency might have sent him to interfere.” He straightened his shoulders and held himself up tall and proud. “But I am going to find out!”