Knight and Dei - Pony Rides

by Georg

Independence Day - Part Two

One thing to remember about Equestrians is that earth ponies grow the food, and they all eat the food, but that doesn’t mean all of them are able to cook the food. Pegasi in particular—at least by my personal experience—would starve to death in a fully stocked kitchen, if they did not burn it down first.

Morning arrived to the familiar sound of the RV smoke detector going off, like it did on many occasions. Dei had once managed to burn cold cereal, and Knight’s culinary expertise began and ended with carrot dogs on the grill al la flambe grande. I swear he’s part Cajun. Thankfully, the pegasus couple was fairly unmoved by my relative state of undress as I bolted out of the cabover bed and down to the floor with a thump, although I had to turn off the stove burners as far away from the pancake pan as possible so my bare legs would not get splattered by sizzling vegetable oil.

“Pancakes?” I guessed, based on the fact that an empty box of the mix was in the trash and many of the usual ingredient suspects were present in a bowl, plus a few.

“Alfalfa flapjacks like my mother used to make,” declared Dei. “More-or-less.”

“More burnt,” I said, dumping the charcoal remnants into the trash, “and less nutrition. How about I toast some of the frozen ones—” I stopped my cleanup attempt, looking at where Knight had most of our last package of frozen waffles in his mouth, chewing frantically to hide the evidence with puffed-out cheeks.

“Was hungry,” he muttered through the mess.

“Da!” declared little Twilight from the edge of his parents’ bed, where he was watching the ongoing culinary disaster with eager eyes, most likely taking infant notes for when he was a big pegasus and could top the ongoing disaster.

The schedule for this morning was a little tight, but nothing I could not work around with lessons that I had learned from my own human mother and several weeks of pony experience. Since there was an antique tractor and farm equipment show at the baseball field parking lot just down the hill from our RV, I chased the pony family out of the RV for a brisk pre-breakfast tour, then set to cleaning. At least Twilight would like the farm machinery better since he could actually climb over the exhibits, and it was outdoors as opposed to Pioneer Village’s hooves-off indoor displays.

In order to get everything done and still give the ponies recreation time, we would have to cut a few corners, and when Knight and Dei came back all happy from their ‘farm toy’ exploration, I was as ready as possible.

Alfalfa crepes were as close as I could get to Mama Pegasus’ recipe, with a couple of regular pancakes made from scratch and glued around a tuft of alfalfa with the last of the syrup. Seeing no objection and nearly losing a finger from the rapid parental snarfing, I passed over the manebrushes so the family could get each other presentable outside in a flurry of shed hairs and feathers while I found my khaki slacks and a polo shirt. Somehow, I did not think the Methodists would approve of my usual cargo shorts and colorful t-shirt even if I was bringing some unique guests to morning worship. Technically, church should have been one of the rare occasions where I should wear my suit, but since the guests of honor were going naked as Adam and Eve, I felt it was important that I not look too out-of-place by overdressing.

But before that, we had another important task to do this morning. And we barely had to step outside of the RV to reach it.

“Mister and Missus Abitz, on behalf of the Equestrian embassy and my employers, we would like to present you with a small token of our appreciation for making our visit here more pleasant than it already was, as well as keeping an eye on our RV while it has been parked in your back yard.” I handed the doudy-looking housewife the collection of pre-printed awards, hoofprinted as a signature from all three of my employers, and placed three braided horsehair bracelets on top of the papers. “And one of these each for your grandchildren,” I added.

It was a small price for our little group to pay in exchange for a few active extension cords and a weekend parking place, but a rather large reward for the retired human farmers. In all odds, the gifts I had just handed out—along with several photos with my employers—would be treasured for years and passed down to generations yet to come.

As much as I would like to claim I had braided the bracelets myself, my own mother gets most of the credit for the work. She had taken to Knight and Dei like one of her own children when I brought them up on a visit to their Missouri farm earlier in the year, and the pegasi had likewise loved the heck out of her, although I suspect her chocolate-chip cookies may have been a major influence. The collector’s value of a genuine Equestrian mane bracelet was just nuclear stupid, but the Abitz family was certainly going to hold onto them. I recognized the grandkids from yesterday’s rides, and I don’t think any of them would take their presents off to bathe, let alone sell one on Ebay.

We had to leave the Abitz family shortly afterward in order to reach the church on time, but left a very happy household behind, with very happy pegasi beside me. The Equestrians love to visit churches, although I think they view them more as choral practice interrupted by occasional Earth biblical history lessons.

Each of the pegasi have a particular favorite in Earth religious music, with Dei hitting her stride with Easter and Knight tending to the more militaristic songs. When he gets going on Eternal Father Strong to Save, you can spot any Navy veterans in the audience because they start sniffling immediately, and by the final stanza, the liquid pride is flowing at full speed. Knight was wearing his silver crucifix proudly this morning, much like a military decoration for Gallant Bravery and Endurance in the Kansas City Battle of Handel’s Messiah.

I sat through the whole performance back in March. Well, except for the end. All of the performers deserved a medal for surviving it.

Small town atmosphere was much more conducive to relaxation than running around Kansas City. Our parking spot in the park was only a short walk to just about anywhere downtown without even needing to get out my bicycle. We had a pleasant stroll down the rustic sidewalks—which is another word for rough bricks with a few holes that threatened to turn the occasional ankle or pastern—and waved at the occasional early-rising resident before reaching the Methodist church just prior to the start of services. Timing was essential, because arriving too early tended to work up the congregation into an impromptu tour of the whole church and visiting each classroom to fill the time, and too late just made the minister nervous about the possibility of the invited guests missing some critical lesson in his sermon.

Introductions went well, and we settled into a crowded pew with a great deal of polite rearrangement. Twilight even had most of his ‘frisky’ already run off this morning so he was content to sit on my lap with sharp little hooves and look around at all the fascinating humans while we stood up or sat down at the appropriate spots.

The pegasi did not want to cause too much of a scene, and the minister was ‘going along’ as much as he was able, so we had agreed to limit the couple to one song during their ‘special music’ time. Of course it had to be one I could play on the guitar, so I found myself up front when our time came around. Dei can play the Equestrian guitar with a clever gadget that clips to one hoof, but she can only manage four chords. She’s still good within her practiced pieces, but playing one of the couple’s favorite Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers duets in church was probably not going to go over well, so we decided on Peter, Paul, and Mary.

I had to keep from smiling too much while playing my guitar part because I’ve never been able to hear the song without thinking about Airplane!, a movie which perplexed my employers greatly when we first watched it. River of Jordan wasn’t exactly gospel music, but fit the church better than breaking into Peace in the Valley by Elvis, and it let both of their musical guests shine. We did not have to worry about Twilight wandering away during the performance because the little colt just adores listening to his parents sing. The rest of the congregation felt likewise, and we left the service with a happy buzz, turning down invitations to visit various homes as we made our way back outside to the downtown area.

Despite the breakfast pancakes, we decided on an early lunch, because the rest of the day was going to be busy, and Knight needed to get back to the RV for a nap or he’d be dead on his hooves by the evening fireworks. It gave us some valuable ‘slack’ in the historic downtown district, which was going to close up fairly soon anyway as the fireworks fans had already begun to arrive. The food vendors were going to rake it in over the next few hours, but the antique stores and such would not see much profit in remaining open for people who did not want to carry their purchases for several hours until they returned to their vehicles, which were parked some distance away. Besides, the store owners wanted to see the fireworks too.

So we shopped for a few antiques, dropped by the OZ Winery to get several bottles for later in the trip, and headed back up the street at a leisurely pace. Shopping for wine in Kansas was just another oddity that I was adjusting to. By going out one night with Knight, I discovered that pegasi had such a high metabolism that they almost can’t get drunk with beer, although almost is not can’t, and riding back home on his tiny little sulky had a dramatic sobering-up effect on me too.

Today we were walking, and the wine would be saved for later, and in far lesser amounts. There were public affairs considerations after all, and a pair of tipsy pegasi in public would not go well with the Embassy.

It was hot, but still a good time to just walk with all the other tourists in town for the fireworks and the locals nodding as they passed, and sneaking the occasional photo. We did not make a stop at the Columbian theatre because we had seen that on the last trip here, where we spent some time examining the antique tapestries dating back to the World’s Fair of 1893. Walking through those wrought-iron doors was like going back in time, particularly since the town had a performance of The Wizard of OZ put on by the locals back then. The whole town had a distinct ‘Emerald City’ vibe to it, mostly due to the huge OZ Museum right next to the theatre, and our lunch stop was certainly related.

Toto’s TacOZ was a little hole-in-the-wall taco place established by a California refugee who decided he liked it better here, although he brought along the best part of his home state. Knight and Dei had gotten hooked on his hot sauce on their last visit, and had obviously called their order in ahead, because there were two immense mixing bowls waiting for them, loaded with a ‘Equestrian Triple-Tostada Salad with extra beans’ and one made-to-order burrito for me, which the staff took care of while the pegasi dug in.

It was con-carnage. By the time they were done, Knight had picante sauce dripping down his ears and a spot of guacamole in between his eyes, while Dei had restrained her hot sauce habit down to a general smearing of red down both sides of her jawbones. Thankfully, the lovebirds did not lick each other’s faces clean like I feared, but vanished into a bathroom to take care of the cleanup while I stayed at the table with Twilight and tried not to look embarrassed.

Really, the standing ovation from the customers standing in line was a bit much.

There was not much to clean up either, because both salad bowls were licked clean, and Twilight had happily taken care of the last bite of my burrito. I still wiped the table and put a twenty into the tip jar before letting some of the onlookers get a closer look at little Twilight and some justified adoration for the adorable colt.

We got back to the RV in good time, and while Knight bedded down for the afternoon and Dei fed Twilight, I got out the smaller pink sulky and organized the waiting customers. We had a few hours flight time remaining in the afternoon and Dei soon emerged into the July sunlight, happily taking children and teenagers out on their respective jaunts between happy chatting and posing for photos. She even took one delighted youngster up on a quick vertical ride to collect a chunk of cloud, which she put over the awning so I could have some more shade and the people in line would not droop so much in the Kansas sun.

It was just about time for Twilight to get up from his nap when an older lady came up to the flight point and waved to catch my attention.

“Excuse me.” The lady stopped to breathe heavily, since it was obvious that she had walked rather quickly to reach us. “Were you and the Equestrians going to attend the patriotic music concert this afternoon?”

“Probably not,” I admitted. “Knight is sleeping until the parade this evening, and Dei… Well, we can ask,” I added as the pegasus in question came fluttering down in a flurry of pink feathers with the exuberant child in the sulky right behind. “Hey, Dei. Did you want to go to that concert this afternoon?”

“Is it that time already?” Dei checked her Apple watch, then started helping the kid out of his seat. “Go get Twilight and we can head over there after the next ride, if the rest of you don’t mind.”

The children in line were very cooperative, particularly since I was fairly certain that several of them were on their second or third trip. Rules were meant to be bent if everybody was having a good time, after all. I walked over to where the RV was parked and picked up Twilight from a groggy Knight, who had still managed to get the little colt woke up after his nap, pottied, and dressed in a diaper for his educational outing. Apparently, I was the only one who did not know that Dei wanted to attend the concert, which was fine with me because I had been run fairly ragged over the weekend so far, and could use an hour of relative inactivity.

The two of us made it back to the waiting kids just in time to see Dei take off with one last rider, most likely one of the children who had not been for a ride yet and certainly a free trip since I had already stuffed the banking envelope into the RV safe. Her absence gave me a few minutes to put the last loose stuff into the trailer and lock the door while the rest of the children adored Twilight and tried to feed him blades of grass.

Due to airborne delivery, we reached the concert area with a few minutes to spare and left the sulky on the roof of the building, once I had gotten Dei unhitched. Not that we were afraid of anybody stealing it, just that it was more convenient than coming out of the concert and finding it surrounded by curious onlookers.

As the concert went on and we watched from the security of a balcony seat, I had to wonder just why the Equestrians were so interested in a violent country who put such store in celebrating their freedom from a monarch. I mean from what I had heard, Princess Celestia was a far cry from any British king, and if George Washington had been an immortal alicorn, it was quite possible our countries would have looked even more alike in the political arena. Perhaps someday I would be able to get one of the coveted Equestrian tourist visas and go see for myself, standing in open-air concerts and singing… Well, maybe not that far. I could barely hold a simple conversation in Equestrian. Singing was going to take a lot longer. Singing well might never happen. Far better to just relax in the seat and enjoy the concert, taking advantage of a slow spot in a fast-paced pegasus day.

Maybe this was why the pegasi liked this area of the country so much for their vacation. Personally, I preferred to live in KC with so much more to do in close proximity, but I had to admit the appeal of slowing down and living life in a lower gear. Nobody liked rush-hour traffic or seeing an auto accident backing up four lanes of traffic to a crawl. Here, every person knew everybody, or was related through about four chains of up or down the family trees, as I rapidly discovered in the post-concert discussions that broke out once it was over and the inevitable social networking began.

It was always a fascinating experience to see just how the two species interacted, particularly after my own experience with meeting Knight. I’m probably the only nursing student who had not been wrangling for a spot on Dei’s prenatal examination team several months ago, with a female Equestrian physician, two female human physicians, and six female nursing students and regular nurses.

I think Knight stepped out of the examination room just to avoid estrogen poisoning. That’s when I found him, a bat-winged and armored creature of darkness, trying to make sense of a hospital vending machine in the furthest corridor from other people. Thankfully, I was not very awake, and it took until I had helped him convince the cranky machine to cough up a bag of chips and a soda before his identity soaked into my fatigued brain. Dei found us sitting around talking two hours later, trading stories of our early educational experiences and making a tower of discarded aluminum cans.

Expectant Equestrian Mama had been less than happy. Various doctors and nurses trailing along behind her mirrored Mama’s expressed opinion, leading to several uncomfortable days of my ongoing nursing education until the pendulum swung back with a happy vengeance. A week later at their personal request, I took the two of them on a trip out to my parent’s farm so they could get a look at Earth outside of the embassy confines.

And my mother had promptly dragged out the baby book, much the same way the people around Dei today were happily showing off their own photos of newborns and college grads.

Some things are universal. I suppose if the stereotypical Little Green Men ever do land at the White House, they’ll wind up exchanging solidholos of their green offspring with human diplomats also. Although I don’t think they’d go barhopping at night like Knight and I did several times, or hustle the locals at pool. You wouldn’t think a cue stick could be held by a pony at all, but braced on top of one fetlock and a wingtip around the butt end, it worked quite well, as several Kansas City pool hustlers would be willing to testify.

Currently with the chattering collection of rural locals around us, I did not think it was appropriate to bring up the idea of me escorting the Equestrian couple around the country on pool hustling proceeds. The Embassy would probably object, because they were trying their best to keep ‘best face forward’ and all that. The diplomats attended city celebrations and national events as honored guests, which was just fine, since I really doubt they got out enough to see the sights. Maybe we would even get time to visit the Grand Canyon on the Knight’s ad hoc vacation schedule, which would be a good time to tie Twilight’s leash firmly to my wrist and not encourage the pegasi to fly their tour guide around the gusty… No, my stomach did flips just thinking about it.

For the parade this evening, I had the ground-bound role of candy carrier and tosser. Enough parade participants threw candy to make it worthwhile for the organizers to buy it in bulk, so all we needed to do after making our post-concert excuses was to pick up our reserved bag and keep Dei from nosing through the whole collection before it was thrown. Thankfully, Twilight was too young to have candy, or at least any more than a few M&Ms with a lot of drool.

I really wanted to see the parade and did not think I was going to get the opportunity to see more than the horses behind us and the marching band in front, but having pegasi as employers once again proved an advantage. Once Dei and I got back to the trailer, we found Knight in the process of getting out the larger pegasus cart and the signs. He also had made a trip to pick up the bag of candy we had reserved from the city, which showed signs of having been browsed and certain specific items removed for later.

I didn’t get a chance to ask him about it until we made a brief airborne trip over to the local high school front lawn, which overlooked the parade route. Several of the children who had also spread out on the wide grassy lawn came over to play with Twilight and Dei, which let me settle down on the grass with the big batpony and talk.

“Bit-o-Honeys?” I asked.

He passed several over, then unwrapped one for himself, which I still found a fascinating process for a pony.

“You’re not getting overwhelmed by our trip so far?” he asked through the sound of chewing. “I mean I know Twilight is quite a handful, as you humans say, and we’ve—”

I held one hand over his sticky mouth, which was an Equestrian gesture I was still getting used to since the first time I felt a cold horseshoe across my lips. “The last few weeks have been an experience I will be telling my great-grandchildren about, just like that Chinese lady last night. Besides, this is a great vacation. I’m probably not going to get an opportunity like this to tour the country once I start on my career.”

Since the American flag was headed down the street at the front of the parade, I stood up and held my hand over my chest while it passed, while Knight stood up and held his head high next to me. In fairly short order, the rest of the parade began to follow, which let me sit back down on the parked cart and get out my phone to take a few photos. Twilight was playing with several nearby human children while Dei kept watch, so this was about as relaxed as I had been in several days.

“In addition,” I added while leaning back in the sulky seat, “life has never been better.”

“True dat.” Slang was another thing the Equestrians were picking up at a good clip, and Knight dug a pair of Pepsi cans out of the cooler, passing one to me. The Equestrian embassy discouraged drinking in public, and so did Dei, therefore soft drinks were likely to be the most we were going to get until tomorrow. Particularly with the number of photos we tended to attract. “Whaaassss uuuuuppp,” he snarked as I passed back the first can, which I had opened for him.

“Not much,” I said, popping the aluminum top of the second can for myself. “Sittin’ back, having a cold one with my bro. Who watches too much television.”

“Your commercials are the best part,” he countered. “Two entire stories every minute, like watching this parade every time you turn on the TV.”

We broke off the mutual bro-fest in order to wave at a passing parade float being towed by a modern tractor, although Knight added while waving, “You have fascinating machines, we have exotic locations and creatures. I understand why the Princesses want to keep our travel restricted between worlds—at least for now—but there should be some way we can bring you over for a few months.”

“Pediatric Equestrian conference, perhaps.” I shrugged while watching Twilight gallop around with two small human children, enjoying a bit of time between entertaining floats. “Your son has been a joy to watch. Don’t worry about it for now. I was just wondering if we’ll actually make it to the Grand Canyon before you have to go back to work.”

“Oh, most certainly. I’ve got a lot of accumulated leave to use. Besides—” Knight flexed his dark bat-like wings and grinned “—you’ve always wanted to fly the canyon at night, right?”

It was a thought that had considerable persistence as we watched the rest of the parade go by in the hot sun, punctuated by occasional dashes to the curb to catch candy being flung by various floats. I was a little startled to see a Senator and a House representative in convertibles, but one of the nearby parade watchers told me both of them were regular attendees, as well as the Ft. Riley soldiers and their desert camouflage vehicles. Twilight absolutely loved the Shriners and their little cars, which nearly made us late when our parade route slot came by.

“Excuse me! Coming through. Pardon us, ma’am. The Knights can’t fly down through the trees with their cart or they could knock some branches loose.”

While Knight and Dei hurried over to the cart and strapped themselves in, I made a narrow path through the parade watchers so they didn’t have to dive bomb onto their moving space on the street. The parade route was a little under a mile, and having the cart along meant both advertising for the Knight family’s hobby and a place to put Twilight if he ran out of energy before the end of the route.

We really should not have worried.

The young couple pranced like fashion models on display, showing off their fancy livery and giving occasional pairs of volunteer children brief rides. The two of them could just drift along the pavement a few feet up and make a big circle from curb to curb hardly flapping at all while Twilight and I ran around with the candy bag and tossed the occasional handful to deserving kids. Since there was little altitude involved, the pegasi did not bother with safety equipment for the riders. Besides, the ride was so smooth that several of the riders would call out “When are we taking off?”

Twilight was actually more help with the candy distribution than I expected. He was like a purple-ish Irish Setter, darting from one side of the street to another in order to ‘point’ at a group of waving children who needed some additional sugar in their life. By the time we reached the end of the parade route, I was dripping with sweat while he was just getting warmed up. The last short handful of candy went to a group of kids at the bottom of the judge’s bleachers, and Twilight was enormously disappointed that the generosity had to stop while we took a left turn and headed for the park.

It was getting crowded in the streets where the floats were shedding their riders and getting maneuvered for return to wherever they came from, so the Knights parked the cart on top of a flat-topped building to keep it out of the way. Really, it’s not cheating, but it gave me a unique view of the parade’s end, and besides, it was a good time for a break anyway. Since I wasn’t going anywhere soon, I sagged down in the seat and took off my sneakers while the pegasi flew away to get something to drink. It was nice to be able to park my carcass for a while without chasing Twilight, and a change to observe some horses of the terrestrial and non-winged variety.

I think just about every country house with a horse-sized patch of ground around this area has at least one or two equine pets, with only a small fraction actually ridden for competition or cattle work. A large number of them were in the parade today, from shaggy ponies pulling a cart only slightly larger than the one I was sitting on now, all the way to several Clydesdales with jingling harnesses. It was a little odd to think of the same kind of parade with an audience of Equestrian unicorns, commenting on the fashion of the tack or judging the riders by their style. And of course I had to wonder if the Equestrians were going to invite some of the trick riders and their mounts to tour their country for marveling audiences of their four-legged relatives. At a respectful distance, of course.

Knight and Dei really did not ‘do’ close contact with horses, due to both the size difference and a certain flightyness from the big brutes not really understanding just why the baby horses had bird wings. A few weeks ago, the Knights had introduced Twilight to Warpaint, one of the more tame horses that the Kansas City Chiefs had as a mascot, but little Twilight really did not want to get close to huge Warpaint, even if they were curious parallels of each other.

For now, Knight and Dei were having a great time as the horses and their riders passed, chatting with several of the local high school cheerleaders who were in a golf cart selling iced water bottles for a fundraiser. There were teenager selfies involved, of course, some of which involved a horse and rider stopping for a few moments. Twilight was all eyes, so the only thing most of the selfies probably caught was the back of his head as he stared at the huge horses towering above him just a few yards away.

About the time the Clydesdales began to show, Dei purchased a bottle of water and flew back up to the roof where I was watching (and taking pictures).

“That was fun!” exclaimed Dei. “Again?”

Twilight was having nothing to do with the idea, and scrabbled off his mother’s back in order to crawl into my lap with several sharp flutters of his tiny wings.

“Pretty sure everybody on the parade route is packing up right now. Look at that, Twilight.” I pointed at the end of the parade where the pooper-scooper brigade was at work, picking up the inevitable result of putting a few dozen terrestrial horses on the street and walking them. The occasional water balloon arched away from the pickup truck towing the poo wagon while volunteers with shovels collected horse poop. It was a humorous end to the parade and a much more preferred view for the little colt at this altitude and distance.

“Think we should get a cloud and soak them down?” asked Dei.

“That’s probably cheating,” I admitted, watching one of the delighted kids try to catch a water balloon with predictable results. I took a long drink out of the dripping water bottle, then shared it with a very thirsty Twilight. Honestly, if there was a single germ that could jump the species barrier between humans and Equestrians, I would have caught it by now, so it was perfectly safe, if a little drooly. “The fireworks won’t be for a few hours yet, and giving rides with this crowd would be more stress than it’s worth. How about we just chill in the park and run over to the fireworks area once it starts to get dark? Less chance of getting stepped on.”

Twilight bleated what sounded like a positive noise.

It took a while for the rest of the horses to pass, each of them eventually headed by back streets in the direction of their trailer and probably a trip home to the paddock. Twilight was more interested in the brightly dressed pooper-scoopers, and when they got close enough, I figured out why. They were exclusively middle-aged men in dresses and wigs, hustling around to scoop up the inevitable horse apples. It gave them a convenient spot… Well, two convenient spots to hide water balloons for tossing at happy children and the occasional shrieking adult who would run off laughing after being soaked. They even lobbed one up at Dei who took off like a shot, and with a blur of wings that triggered a wild gust of wind, managed to return the water balloon right smack in the middle of the laughing guys in the pickup bed.

Score: Pegasi - One, Guys in Dresses - One Also Because Funny

I suspect a friendly game of volleyball would have broken out with broken balloons and water all over if the guys in the truck had not been out of liquid ammunition. Since the end of the street was congested by horses milling about and last minute photo-taking by the parade crowd, I held Twilight up so he could wave at the odd examples of humans and get waved back in turn. After all, the truck was not going anywhere soon, and we were stuck on the building roof until Knight got back.

I really didn’t expect how he was going to return, or where he had gone, until a dark cloud swooped over the pickup truck. Knight popped up from behind the fluffy thing, paused over the top of it to the sound of dozens of cell phone cameras, then proceeded to hop up and down on it like a trampoline.

Water precisely poured down the truck, leaving the trailer full of poo completely dry. The same could not be said about the poo-picker-uppers. Over the sound of loud cheering, Knight gave the depleted cloud a brief kick to break it back into harmless vapor, made one wide circle around the happy crowd, then swooped down for a landing in front of us.

“Advertising,” he explained and gave a happy Twilight a boost up onto his back.

“We’re done with rides for the day,” said Dei, although she obviously resisted chastising her husband for the great time he was having.

“Not advertising for us,” said Knight with one grand gesture at the laughing and waving crowd, including the guys in soggy dresses. “Advertising for Equestria. Some ponies… And people too, don’t believe what they’re told until they see it.”

“I’m with Knight on this one,” I said. “You two do things that I still don’t understand. I’m just glad you invited me along for your vacation. I’ve always wanted a job where I didn’t want to go home at quitting time. But for now, I’m exhausted.”

There was a gazebo in the nearby park which turned out to be the best place possible for us to take a break while the sun sank lower in the sky. The Ft. Riley 1st Infantry Division Band, who had been marching at the front of the parade, was setting up for a concert, and the Equestrians were transfixed. I swear, if the military ever decides to invade their country, all they would really need to do was send in a marching band and all the Equestrians would join in. Of course, we would never get the band back.

I was fairly confident that Knight was trying to figure out some way to bring the brass section of the army band back home in his luggage, or at least have them play a song he knew the words to. On the other hoof, I was more comfortable in the grass behind the sulky where they had landed. Spreading out the poncho liner we were using as a blanket so I would not get grass stains on my ‘Fly Knight and Dei Air’ shirt, I settled down and enjoyed the concert with my eyes closed and my hat over my face. After all, it was hot out, I was tired, and I really needed a break.

After enjoying the patriotic music for a while (and dozing off for a few minutes), I found out that Twilight was likewise tired after his energetic afternoon. The little colt snuggled down on a corner of the poncho liner and used my left leg for a pillow, which I only noticed when my toes started to fall asleep too. He was heavy without using his youthful magic, but shifting positions slightly let me get my circulation back while listening to the rest of the concert.

Life was good.

When the concert was over and the Knights went up to chat with the musicians, I was stuck with a sleeping pegasus foal, and a quiet crowd of observers who mostly were made up of young ladies. Really, it was pure torture to have them whisper to me and take selfies, dressed in skimpy outfits suitable for summer wear and admiring us both. I was aware that having Twilight around was a babe magnet, but apparently being trapped under a snoozing foal amplified the effect. It was probably a good thing that the Knights did not plan on visiting any beaches or the sunbathing girls would be ten deep around us when I was watching him. For now, it was a heavy burden that I was trying my best to uphold.

We took a side trip into the crowded carnival since the sun was still up and Twilight was fascinated by the colorful lights. He had to ride on my shoulders to keep from being stepped on, which garnered us quite some attention, although people were fairly good at giving us distance when prompted. I swear, I’ve got that little wrist flip with the palm-out gesture and a short shake of the head down cold.

Dei had originally suggested we give away colored cards with their autographs on them to people who were wanting to be social when we had other things to do, but after one or two public attempts, she gave up. It was too much like throwing bread to ducks, and rather than get some breathing space, it brought waves of casual observers over in an attempt to get free stuff also.

The carnival games were about the level of rigged as I expected, even though Twilight won a plastic bird whistle at the duck game. He was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to keep the duck he picked out of the water, but perked up at the gurgling chirps he could make on his new toy. Knight was a little worried that he might swallow it, so I held onto it whenever he wanted to blow, and that worked out fairly well on our walk back to the RV.

Well, they walked. I got to ride in the sulky. They would have flown, but both pegasi were happily chatting with people who were walking to the fireworks area as it was starting to get dark, and once you put a quarter into a pegasus, you have to wait for the whole song to play, and sometimes the flip side too.

We stopped by the RV first to put away the sulky and get out the blanket, since the soccer fields were already starting to fill up where people were going to watch the fireworks. The last thing we wanted to do was run over peoples’ feet or block their view. Then it was a fairly leisurely stroll around the baseball fields and over to where Leo was holding a place for us, just behind the VIP section.

The whole Wamego fireworks display is done on a volunteer basis, with funding being provided by local individuals and companies. From the Caterpillar plant just a stone’s throw away from where we sitting, which welded earthmoving scoops and blades, to people halfway across the country with their roots in this small town, they all contributed toward the thousands of shells and pyrotechnic displays about to be fired shortly. Even the crew responsible for the timing and activation of the explosives were all volunteers, which Leo had explained to me earlier. He could only stay a moment after we arrived since he was a part of the pyro crew and had to get over to his assigned spot, but he had enough time to give Twilight a friendly head-rub while the Knights were laying out the Army poncho liner we were using for a blanket.

“We have something scheduled before the fireworks start too, Carl.” Knight patted the edge of the poncho liner flat and dropped the foal bag on it to keep it stationary. “Can you keep an eye on Twilight while we’re away?”

“Just as long as you’re back when the booms start,” I replied, holding up my wrist where Twilight’s ‘leash’ was tied. “He gets so excited over the little firecrackers that I’m not sure how he’s going to react when all that fires off, and I don’t want to get towed a few hundred feet straight up.”

There was a lot of ‘that’ spread out across the baseball fields, from huge barrels to long cardboard boxes tied end-to-end, and all being double and triple checked by Leo’s fellow pyro crewmates. Contrary to my protests, it was no real trouble keeping Twilight busy while waiting for the setting sun to give way to darkness. We took a quick trip up to the concessions for a bierock and soda for me, although they had sold out of the delicious little hamburger and cabbage concoctions and I had to console myself with a bag of chips, while Twilight’s bag had some applesauce and juice for his snacking purposes. When we got back to the blanket, I might as well not have have unpacked his food because the little colt insisted on playing with some nearby human children instead. Really, I’m not sure they knew he was a pegasus by the way they threw a frisbee back and forth, but children are children, whether they throw with their hands or a flick of their neck.

If the Equestrians wanted to get a reasonable idea of what Humanity was like at its best, the audience of a Midwestern town waiting for fireworks was a really good place to start. I don’t know what their equivalent is, but I’m guessing it would have fireworks also, and the possibility of experiencing that in their world personally did not feel quite so distant as I watched Twilight leap up into the air to catch the speedy frisbee. Perhaps some wealthy socialite would want to cross worlds and bring a private nurse with them, somebody who knew at least something about the culture and inhabitants.

It was starting to get fairly dark and the Knights were not back yet. I tried to give them a call, but cell service was shot to heck in the area, which only made sense since there were about fifty times as many people here as the cell service was used to supporting during normal days. Twilight did not mind, because he had several new friends, including one yapping dog who had not decided if the strange winged creature was competition or some category of ‘people’ yet. Experience made me look in the direction of the musical entertainment, where a ‘cover’ band was belting out classic country and pop songs for the enjoyment of the waiting audience.

One pink and one grey blotch of color behind the stage let me know right where the parents were located, although it did not clue me in to what they had planned. That would wait until dark, when the band stopped playing and the announcer took over.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” called out the middle-aged man on stage. “The city of Wamego and associated sponsors welcome you to our annual Fourth of July celebration!”

It was a good time to stand up and stretch, as well as retrieve Twilight from his young friends before they turned out all of the—

They turned off all of the parking lot lights.

Thankfully, Twilight had better night vision than me, and butted up against my leg almost instantly so he could be boosted up higher to see what interesting things were going on at the small stage. The announcer was spotlighted for his attention (and the crowd) so it was no real trouble to stand there and hold the young pegasus, particularly since Twilight wanted to stay up there and was using his magic to weigh practically nothing. The announcement covered all the usual ground, the sponsors, the history behind the Wamego celebration, and other such uninteresting things for Twilight, but he stayed relatively still and attentive because I could see his parents coming out on stage. They were accompanying a young lady who the announcer said was a local musician.

I knew what was coming up, because Knight and Dei loved to stop for the evenings near small town baseball diamonds and watch little league games. Inevitably, they would be invited to sing the national anthem, with the rest of the evening devoted to cheering and chatting. Even Twilight would get in on the game by babbling ‘Aybattabattabatta’ at every opportunity. So when the pyrotechnics lit up in the shape of the American flag and the trio on stage launched into the anthem, I was unsurprised. Impressed, but not shocked. I could even hear Twilight hum along with the words, giving the occasional semi-understandable word here and there.

And at the end, the Combustible Civilian Battalion of Patriotic Celebration fired its first salvo, screaming fireworks cascading up into the clear Kansas night sky in an endless series of explosions. I should not have worried about Twilight at all, because he was transfixed in place with his mouth wide open. Reflections of Chinese mass produced pyrotechnics filled his huge eyes, and he remained practically motionless in my arms while soaking up the sight.

“Hey, Carl.” Knight almost effortlessly dropped out of the sky right next to me with a young lady sitting on his back. For a second I thought he was kidnapping random women, but it turned out to be the lady who had been singing the anthem. “This is Miss Eichman. She’s going to KU next year and majoring in music.”

The tall brunette still looked a little glazed, because I’m fairly sure Knight had not asked before scooping her up and flying the few hundred feet over to where I was standing. I helped her down off his back and we exchanged a few words, mostly her saying how happy she was to sing with the pegasi and how she needed to go find her fiancé in the crowd somewhere. Really, I think all Equestrians mirror Princess Cadence to some degree of shipping, the pegasi in particular. Besides, she was far taller than me.

I put the thought behind me once the young lady headed out into the crowd to find her boyfriend. There were many, many rockets and explosions to enjoy, which Twilight and his parents were doing for all of us. I added my own attention to the display, sitting down on the warm poncho liner so I didn’t block the view of anybody behind me. I had been to fireworks displays before in Kansas City, but this was both larger and closer than about anything I had seen before, and went on and on with music blasting along to the beat.

“Firball!” exclaimed Twilight whenever the big barrels erupted in towers of fire to the sound of Pitbull’s Fireball, making a high-pitched squealing noise when the repeating walls of flames and sparks sprayed upward in fans of crackling light, and ‘Oooo’ whenever a high-altitude series of explosions mixed together into one huge ball of writhing spark trails.

It was enough to lose track of time and become convinced the fireworks were going to last forever, but a half-hour of pyrotechnic joy came and went far too fast. The finale burst into the air in one long chain of detonations and balls of falling sparks, hamming the eardrums for one last time before fading into darkness and standing applause as Lee Greenwood’s voice finished one last “God Bless the USA.”

“Ok, I’ll admit it. This was better than going to the fireworks in Kansas City,” I said to Dei next to me once the parking lot lights went back on and we could see.

“Boom?” asked Twilight. “Boom?”

“Booms all over, honey.” Dei boosted her son up on her back and smiled at a passing person. “We can go down next to the fence and watch for a bit while everypony else goes home, because Mr. Bosse said they always have a few that don’t fire, and they’ll set those off one at a time so it's safe to pick up the leftover cardboard tubes.”

“Boom,” said Knight in his role as tot translator. “Small booms. We’re not driving anywhere in that mess for a few hours at least.”

The whole highway was clogged solid with cars headed in either direction, and the solid mass of people heading for more cars had not even started to subside. Many in the audience had headed for the carnival in the park so that was going to be packed solid also, which made me wonder about dinner. The thought must have been obvious because Knight passed me one of his Bit-o-Honeys while we went over to the ball diamond fence to watch the fireworks crew set off the leftover fireworks, and I consoled myself with the forlorn hope that I would be able to find something in the RV icebox when we eventually went home for the night.

Of course, since I was convinced the Equestrian language did not have ‘leftovers, food’ in their vocabulary, I would probably have to make do with the partial bag of beef jerky I had stashed under my pillow, or maybe sneak a handful of alfalfa from the RV’s trailer. My thoughts were abruptly dashed when Knight snuck up behind me and scooped me onto his back with one smooth movement that I only realized when we were dozens of feet up in the air.

“Surprise,” said the big batpony. “The lady with the Chinese restaurant invited us for dinner tonight. She said we can finish off the buffet at closing time.”

“And don’t say you’re not hungry because I could hear your tummy rumbling,” said Dei, who was flying within touching distance to Knight’s side, and with a happy Twilight spread out on her back.

The lights of the clogged highway passed beneath us at a rapid clip and I resigned myself to my fate of feeding. The two pegasi were not kidding about finishing off a buffet, as I had witnessed several times running. We had plenty of time this evening for digestion before heading out tomorrow morning, heading down I-70 westward bound for Castle Rock and the Little Jerusalem Badlands on our way to Colorado, and then the Grand Canyon and whatever else struck the young couple’s fancy.

So at midnight when I heaved myself up into the cabover sleeping compartment and settled down to sleep, I found myself looking forward to the journey just as much as the destination.