Two Months Later
"I can't believe you managed to do it twice. How is that even possible?" the almost completely mended Crystal Dreams said from the driver's seat.
I shrugged. "Perhaps I'm talented and have an aversion to flags."
"That answer isn't going to work. I know Dreamwardens like to put perhaps in their sentences to get around lying," Crystal fussed.
"It's a very useful word, along with might, maybe, and possibly," I replied cheerfully.
"Don't forget may," Phobia added in.
"Don't encourage her!" Crystal shouted. "How could you let her do that? She's making fools out of you."
"Because I make the Dreamwardens less scary and mysterious. The Dreamwardens have an image problem where people think we're evil authoritarians controlling everything from the shadows. It's hard to believe that when people see me. I make people laugh at the Dreamwardens and feel safer. The only people who would believe us evil after seeing me are those people who thought Jar Jar Binks was the Sith mastermind in Star Wars," I replied. "And, to be clear, I consider may to be a variation on saying maybe."
"You know they retconned that so that is what he was, " Crystal replied.
I blinked. "Meesa didn't know that. I haven't watched the rebooted trilogy."
"So, were you trying to knock all those flags down the second time just to be funny?" Crystal pressed.
"Maybe," I said with a grin.
We passed the second fence and entered the farm proper. I looked around. It was rather plain looking. Most of the fields didn't have anything growing in them. That was a sign someone was working the farm, otherwise, they'd be overgrown with weeds and wild crops. There were two barns, a silo, and a farmhouse. I saw a few cows out in the fields and a few chickens around the house, but no sign of any people. Wait…there was a human in the shade of the house, painting it. He or she had a robe and hood on so it was hard to see what they looked like. I could only assume that it was a zombie.
The robed person took notice of us and stopped working to head to the farmhouse door as we pulled up to the front of it. He or she opened the front door and entered the house. A few seconds later, Ulga walked out and stood at the entrance, ears twitching. The robed individual came behind her and stood silently.
Phobia and I got out of the vehicle but Crystal stayed behind. She wasn't a big fan of zombies.
Ulga smiled. "Dreamwarden Phobia Remedy and guest, welcome! Moses will be so excited to see you. Your guest doesn't need to worry. Moses's other selves have his powers under control."
I didn't have to worry anyway. I was now immune to mind magic, but Ulga didn't know that. Moses might know, depending on how much he talked to Sha'am. I wasn't sure if they communed. Sha'am could be this current zombie for all I knew.
"Other selves, plural?" I asked.
"Om'po here and his little friend Patches," Ulga replied. "I'm surprised they haven't come down already. Since Om'po saw you, they should know you're here."
Not Sha'am then, but some other zombies.
"Patches isn't supposed to come outside, so maybe they are behaving themselves. Is all well with the farm?" Phobia asked.
Ulga nodded. "Oh, it is going very well. Om'po has been a great help and helps me around the farm. I need to do most of the heavy lifting and preparation of the fields, but he tells me the things I can't see and works straight through the night on various projects– when he isn't keeping Patches out of trouble while Moses and I sleep. Zombies don't need to sleep, and these two don't want to be put to sleep. Patches breaks down crying at the suggestion, the poor dear."
"We'd like to enter and see them; if that is alright," Phobia replied.
Ulga nodded and stepped aside. Om'po did as well.
I followed Phobia as she walked into the house, but paused to look up at Om'po as we entered. He was a plain-looking guy and had an expressionless face. He did glance down at me.
"How's this second round of life going for you, Om'po?" I asked him.
"It is good. Our last time was not pleasant," Om'po replied dully.
"What was your life like when you were alive?" I asked curiously.
"We prefer not to talk about it," Om'po said stiffly.
Okay, leaving that question be. I didn't have time to think of anything else to ask, because there was suddenly a thundering gallop down the stairs.
"Miss Phobia!" a duet of voices said in almost perfect harmony.
"No running on the stairs!" Ulga shouted.
The warning came too late. One of the pair went tumbling down the stairs and landed hard on its back. She…I was fairly certain it was a she…
looked like she really was patchwork. A foal sewn together using other foals. Each of her limbs looked like they came from different sources. Her mane was just a few stray hairs, and her tail was just skin and bone– no hair at all.
Om'po walked over and checked the filly as Moses came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.
"We are undamaged," Om'po announced in a monotone and walked away. I was having to resist the urge to call him Lurch.
The filly got up and excitedly hopped up and down. "Hi, Miss Phobia! We learned we can shake our tail today! See!" She proceeded to wag the little stump on her rump.
"Very nice, Patches, Moses," Phobia said with a smile. "Are all of you doing well?"
"We are happy! This farm is great!" Moses announced happily. "We have lots of fun playing. It's so big!"
Patches noticed me. "The big pony! Hi, big pony!" She held up a leg. "Look! We have legs! We can touch things!" She then proceeded to prance in place. "Touch, touch, touch, touch!"
I smiled, loving this zombie. "Touching is great. I guess most people don't appreciate it."
"We are unsure what kind of creature Patches was," Phobia said. "Whatever she was didn't have senses as we understand them, although she can understand our senses, language, and other concepts through her bond with Moses, at least as well as he understands them. We're unsure what kind of body she had while alive, but it was alien to anything on Earth. She was a carefree creature that existed at some point before the Devourers– not a primordial, but something that lived in the early primordial universe, perhaps even predating Triss. There was no concept of a name with her, so we named her Patches for obvious reasons. She is very childlike, only interested in having fun, and ready to accept whatever Moses believes is fun to be fun. She will never grow up, and I doubt she will mentally mature beyond this point. She's an eternal child. A perfect playmate for Moses, at least for the moment."
"Going to get interesting when he gets older. She will still want to play as he grows up. Does he put her back to sleep then?" I asked.
"No! No sleep!" Patches cried.
Moses came over and hugged the stitched-together zombie. "We won't put you to sleep. We are friends. We love us."
"Promise, no sleep?" Patches sniffled.
"Promise," Moses confirmed.
I looked at Phobia.."Um, is that going to work out? He can't very well go off to school with her. She'd cause a panic. We wanted him to go to school."
"I've done some tests with Om'Po. Om'Po is not as concerned about falling asleep, so we used him to judge how far from Moses these zombies can get before the magic wears off," Phobia replied.
"What did you do, just stick him in a van and keep driving till he collapsed?" I asked.
"Yes," Phobia answered. "An easy enough way to test. Om'Po made it halfway to Augusta before he gave out. That was good, it was a decent distance but not so far we couldn't get him back here to reanimate before the rot set in. Moses should be able to attend school while keeping Patches active."
"The dear helps me out around the house sometimes when Moses can't play with her, simple tasks, but tasks that are much easier with a working set of eyes. She is very eager to please and takes pleasure in the most mundane of tasks," Ulga said cheerfully. "It is very hard to upset her. The only thing that seems to upset her is the idea of having to go to sleep. She's even taken injuries, admitted those injuries hurt, and then gushed happily about feeling pain because she's experiencing something."
What an odd but happy little person. Oh well, at least Moses could go off to school and have a semi-normal life. He had zombies at home, but we all had our little oddities.
"I guess I'm satisfied Moses is being taken care of," I said.
Moses walked over and gave me a hopeful look. "Play with us?"
Patches came beside him and gave me the same puppy dog eyes which looked strangely adorable on a stitched-up zombie. "Please?"
I laughed. "Okay, we can play a few games." I was here to make ponies happy…and I guess that included zombie aliens in patchwork pony bodies too.
Three Years and Seven Months Later
Graduation had come and gone, but now, it was time for the next big stage of my life.
"Russell Rice, do you take this mare, Rebecca Riddle, to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor and cherish her, love, trust, and commit to her, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life may throw at you both until death do you part?"
Russell, smiling gently, looked me in the eyes. "I do." I felt like my legs were going to buckle.
"Rebecca Riddle, do you take this man, Russell Rice, to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you honor and cherish him, love, trust, and commit to him, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life may throw at you both until death do you part?"
"Oh, yes!" I squeaked at a high pitch.
"At this time, Russell Rice and Rebecca Riddle have agreed to exchange collars. These collars will act in the same fashion as the traditional wedding ring, and are a symbol of binding. A symbol of attachment and of belonging, not of possession, but of partnership. With this exchange and placement of collars, they shall say their vows. Russell Rice, you may begin."
The collar-bearer, a very young human cousin of Russell's handed the collar to Robby Middleton, Russell's best stallion, who in turn passed it on to Russell. All his other groomsmen were human cousins of Russell's that I didn't know well, and he had a lot of them– not that I didn't have a lot of bridesmaids. At least I knew Robby well.
Russell opened the collar, a plain black collar with a single diamond embedded in the front that would stand out starkly against my fur, and looked me in the eyes again.
"Rebecca, you caught my attention from the first moment I met you and have never ceased to be the most interesting thing in my life from that moment on. I promise to always support you when you need a shoulder to cry on, to be always faithful and never abuse your trust or your love, to bake you cake on your birthday every year even though I'm a horrible cook-"
There were some giggles and chuckles from the audience.
"-and stay with you till death do us part," Russell concluded. He put the collar on around my neck and gently clasped it in place. "Will you have me as your husband, Rebecca?"
"I will," I said breathlessly.
"It is now your turn, Rebecca," the preacher said.
Maggie, my maid of honor, reached down to try to take the white collar from Robby's young daughter Eve. Eve decided not to cooperate and there was a brief tug-a-war between the two until Nightscape stepped in and tickled her daughter's wing using her own. The filly burst out laughing and released the collar into Maggie's hands. As the audience laughed, my other bridesmaids, Nightscape (heavily pregnant), Blanche, Meadow (also heavily pregnant), Sunflower, Josie, Julie, and Jordan, gave Maggie bemused looks (Nightscape looked more flabbergasted than bemused at her toddler's behavior) and gestured to her to hand me the collar.
I took the collar and held it in a single hoof. I'd spent a lot of time practicing holding and latching a collar onto both Maggie and Blanche's necks leading up to this ceremony so I could accomplish this odd feat of dexterity. We had debated doing rings on necklaces, which might have been easier, but we wanted something more secure, and something that felt more binding. Pony wedding traditions still had a lot of flexibility even eighteen years after ETS, and it was largely up to the bride and groom how they wanted to symbolize they were wed.
I looked up at Russell. "Russell, from the moment I met you, my world felt like it was turned upside down– probably because I was upside down at the time."
There were more chuckles and giggles from the audience. Russell struggled to keep a straight face but couldn't manage it and let out a short laugh before clasping his mouth shut.
"I promise to always be faithful to you, awake or asleep. I promise to always listen to your concerns, and never object to what you want for dinner– though I draw the line at skim milk. That could be grounds for divorce."
There was more laughter at that. My bridesmaids didn't laugh. They probably wondered if I was dead serious about that. Russell didn't laugh either. I was a Dreamwarden, and I avoided lies. Anyway, I knew Russell wouldn't serve me skim milk knowingly. Was I psychotically obsessive over that? Maybe, but we're all a little crazy.
"I will stay with you through sickness and in health, to death do us part, and if there is ever a disagreement over a household issue that we cannot come to a compromise on, I agree to submit to your will, knowing that you will never abuse this privilege. Russell, will you take have me as your wife?"
Russell took a small gulp. "I will."
He bent down and I carefully fastened the collar around his neck. Everything went smoothly with no hiccups. We then both turned and faced the preacher.
The preacher raised a hand. "I, hearing your vows before God and these assembled witnesses, and by the power vested in me by the church and the state of South Carolina, do pronounce you to be Mister and Misses Rice, wedded husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."
Russell reached down and grasped me with his big powerful hands, lifted me up as I shivered with anticipation, and we shared a deep kiss. The audience may have cheered or ooohhh or awwwed, but I had no way of knowing. I was in my own little world, and in it existed just me and my husband.
After being carried to a limo by my husband we went off to the wedding reception. All our friends and family followed along. Since we were not long ahead of the guests for the reception, there wasn't time to do much. Russell stripped my dress mostly off, except for the clear lacy cloak that trailed behind me everywhere but was something that I was far less likely to trip on compared to my dress. We got a little smooching in before the guests arrived and we had to be out to go greet them.
First to arrive, of course, were Blanche and Josie. They were my bodyguards so of course they would be first through the door. Blanche had wanted to ride with us in the limo before I put my hoof down. She was a bit uptight about my safety. Thankfully, Josie was more easygoing and acted more as my helper than my bodyguard most of the time. She and I both loved helping foals and having her as an aid was great.
Maggie and my other bridesmaids were next through the door. They spent time congratulating us one by one and Russell and I spent time thanking each of them for being part of the ceremony.
Maggie had to keep her congratulations short since she was also in charge of the reception and needed to go make sure everything went smoothly. Nightscape had her toddler and husband in tow and went to take a seat quickly after greeting me. Despite this being her second pregnancy, she did not take well to the extra weight she was carrying and had expressed dismay that I carried around this much weight all the time. Meadow was positively glowing by contrast. Happily greeting me with her husband beaming along with her as she insisted at least three times in less than two minutes for me to touch her distended belly. Julie greeted me quickly and then went looking for the snack bar. She was still in great shape, but with her flight team days over, she was starting to put on a little pouch at the bottom. Jordan blushed as Russell and I spent a moment gushing about how fine a young mare she had become and how she was going to be turning heads as she began her senior year in high school in the fall and when she went off to college the following year. She really was pretty, and now was at that same part of her life as me where people looking at you at a glance weren't sure if you were in your late teens or mid-twenties. Apparently, Jess had been at the wedding and was going to be at the reception, and Jordan was enjoying finally looking like she was a similar age to her similarly-aged friend so they could hang out in public without it seeming weird.
Sunflower gave us both a big smile and told us she'd be taking lots of pictures and showing us lots of pictures of her adventures around the world– most recently having visited Göbekli Tepe after having drawn what it looked like eleven thousand years ago, though why she had a vision drawing of that was anyone's guess. Her drawing had given archaeologists some new leads on some possible nearby structures or something, and despite the area not being the safest for ponies the Turkish government had paid to fly her out there to help with the dig. That was cool. I was glad she was getting to live her dream of going off and seeing amazing places.
Russell's many cousins, aunts, uncles, and so on came next. It was a huge family that I had married into, and it was hard to keep up with everyone's names and how they were related. The only other pony out of the bunch was Mama Jas, my new mother-in-law, but no one seemed to have any negative views about Russell taking a pony bride. I had expected at least some off-color jokes about it, but they didn't ever seem to come, at least in my hearing. Most of his family was also completely devoid of magic, save one uncle and cousin who had a tiny bit of earth pony strength, not even enough to seem like they had extraordinary strength, but they still lamented it was enough to disqualify that younger cousin from most high school sports.
Then came our parents and parents-in-law. Both sets of parents were practically giddy and both our mothers were going back and forth between squeals of joy and tears about how their only child was all grown up. Mama Jas was already starting with questions about when we would adopt or do some sort of fertilization procedure. My mom didn't do that. She knew my feelings and knew it wouldn't come for a while if at all. Mama Jas still didn't know she was mother-in-law to a Dreamwarden. Russell and I had talked about letting his parents know, but while Russell trusted his father to keep a secret, he felt like there was a real danger his mother would blurt it out if she knew. His father wouldn't keep secrets from Mama Jas, so there was no telling him either. I felt a little guilty for not letting them know because my parents-in-law were nice people, but this involved our safety.
Then came the rest of the guests. Most of the guests were friends from college. There were also a few professors from college that both of us had at one point or another. There were some random other guests too– Jordan's parents and her sister Jackie, Robby's parents and siblings, some people from our mothers' newly formed company, Maggie's parents, and…
"Lántiān?" I greeted in confusion. "I sent you and Drizzle an invitation, but I didn't expect you to show up."
She gave me a flat look. "Then maybe you shouldn't have sent it."
"I mean…I sorta hoped Drizzle would show up. Maybe you as her chaperone. I didn't expect you and not her. Where is she?" I asked.
Lántiān sighed. "She is attending a sleepover with some friends. She doesn't want to be seen in public with me. I'm ants according to her. I mess with her…I'm not even sure what word she used or if it was even English I swear in the last year or so she and I have been speaking different languages and she uses every opportunity she can to spend the night somewhere else during the weekend."
I did my cool pony pose. "You got to get with the times, Lántiān. Learn the lingo! Ants means you throw off her cool pony groove by being around. I can send you a link to a site called The Latest Slang your Kids are Using for People that are Suddenly Feeling Old. She's a preteen. That's when popularity and being seen as cool suddenly become a big deal and being seen with your parents is like an anathema. It's a stage. She'll grow out of it, eventually."
"Hopefully sooner rather than later," she muttered. "Her having frequent sleepovers isn't the worst thing. It lets me have my own sleepovers without having to worry about her walking in on me."
I blinked. "Drizzle isn't having those kinds of sleepovers, is she? She's waaayyy too young. I normally wouldn't think it of a filly but given her lineage…"
Lántiān snorted and glared at me. "Are you asking whether my filly is having sex? No, you idiotic sugary glob of goo! How dare you even ask it!"
I held up a wing defensively. "Well, both you and your mother started too early, so I was just checking."
Lántiān rolled her eyes. "Having basically grown up in a brothel, I know that smell in an instant and would smell it on her….like I smell it on you right now. Drizzle would be grounded till she was fifty if I caught her doing that! No, she is having innocent sleepovers. I make sure I get contact information for the other filly's parents so I can check up on her."
I smirked. "You're bluffing. We haven't done anything since last night."
"That isn't long enough to banish the smell," she replied. "I can smell it for days. It can get quite annoying. Not the most desirable talent I ever got from spending time with my birth mother."
No wonder she was so cranky all the time. Walking around the street must have been constant bombardment with sex smells. Time to drop that subject.
"But why are you here by yourself?" I asked. "You don't even like me."
"Did I ever say that?" she asked.
"Regularly," I said flatly.
She looked a little abashed at that. "I attended your wedding with my date so we could get ideas, but after he had to leave for work. I didn't have any other plans for the next few hours and several ponies I'm friends with who I haven't seen in some time were attending this reception so I thought, why not?"
I sighed. "You and I are never going to be friends, are we?"
She looked away. "Most likely not. However, I don't hate you. I find you…tolerable…most of the time."
Russell balled up his hands into fists. "That's my wife you are talking to."
"And I congratulate you. She is quite a catch," Lántiān replied then smiled. "And there is no veiled insult in that. She's an architect, and I suspect has a side job of considerably more importance, although I can't verify the latter, nor do I want it verified. She has connections with many of the most notable ponies, and while her humor is not to my taste, I can admit she is highly entertaining for others. I know she has a deeply caring heart and strong enthusiasm and passion for her work. Plus, she tries very hard to make everyone happy. She is a good mare, who was very pretty up on that stage with you. and I could tell looking at the two of you that you adore one another. You're a lucky man to have her. I simply don't like her– never have and likely never will, but I can appreciate her."
"And that's the best I'm going to get," I announced. "Thanks for coming. I'm still happy you are here, even if we aren't technically friends. Be sure to tell your daughter and stallionfriend about all the fun they missed."
She grinned. "I surely will."
Sometimes that was all you could get from some people, and that was good enough.
A Month After the Wedding
In the literal form of a long marshmallow, I floated out in front of the podium. There were some gasps, but no one ran in fear.
"Hello, news correspondents! We're so happy you all came out today to talk to us. I'm the Marshmallow! Have no fear! I'm friendly, and I can't touch anything."
I was using an altered voice that, while not robotic, was neither male nor female. That would help mask my identity. I turned into a big smiley emoji briefly before reverting to my globulous form with a face.
"I was a little hesitant when I was told Fox News would be here. The only thing lower than their standards is our approval ratings."
Many of the reporters chuckled at this, and I grinned widely. The Fox News reporter didn't seem very amused.
"I had a friend show me the approval numbers for the Dreamwardens the other day, and I had to pull out a microscope to find them. Geez, those things are tiny!"
The crowd lightly chuckled again, and I grinned wider.
"Phobia's glaring at me, isn't she? She does that a lot. Don't worry, I can take it. The scariest thing that comes from her is her Thanksgiving dinner. Baked tarantula? Eeesssh. I think she forgets her day was a few weeks before. I hear night ponies like it, but well, I think the best dish at Thanksgiving is me and some sweet potatoes!"
A few of the reporters got the joke. Oh well, not every joke would land.
"Anyway, you all came here to see how I'll adjust Dreamwarden policies now that I'm being more active since our approval ratings are kinda poopie like I mentioned. Sadly, I won't be too involved in that. I don't play politics. I said it when I became Dreamwarden, and I'm saying it again now. I can let you guys talk to Yinyu, Ghadab, or Arbiter; that I can do. Everybody else likes to propose policy decisions and gets feisty about them. I just float along and do my thing, and part of my thing is giving all you people who don't have access to the dream realm a way to directly question the Dreamwardens you normally wouldn't. In fact, Arbiter, how'd you like to talk to these nice reporters? I'd ask Ghadab, but he has a potty mouth, and Yinyu would probably talk about their sex lives and this is a public broadcast that kids can see!"
I shifted to my mirror form and Arbiter appeared in the mirror.
"This is coming much faster than I expected. I'm hardly prepared," Arbiter said in a flustered state.
I ran a newsfeed around the mirror saying. Dreamwarden Arbiter unprepared for reporter questions in first public appearance.
"Seriously, Marshmallow? Are you really doing that?" Arbiter asked in exasperation.
Dreamwarden Arbiter seemed confused about what was going on at the press conference today.
She sighed. "Okay, play your games. I'm going to ignore them. Nobody print what she displays."
Shocking development! Arbiter tries to silence freedom of the press!
She rubbed her head. "Fine, print what you want."
Dreamwarden Arbiter abandons previous position on suppression of free press after public outcry.
"Marshmallow, you are making me look bad," Arbiter growled.
Dreamwarden Arbiter commits a fashion faux pas at a press conference by wearing an orange dress while having orange wings.
Arbiter turned her attention to the reporters. "I'm going to ignore The Marshmallow. My sibling hates formality and, along with Phobia and the Warden of Order, I'm as formal as we get, so I think The Marshmallow is taking out its displeasure on me. I'm also sure we're interrupting The Marshmallow doing something else, like reading bad fanfiction."
Dreamwarden Arbiter makes a subjective claim about the quality of author's work.
"Anyway," Arbiter continued while ignoring my newsfeed. "I did want to discuss policy and policy changes in regards to transparency of Warden Contracts in regards to record keeping who is held by one at any given time. In regards to our current record-keeping process-"
I kinda zoned out. She might as well have been Charlie Brown's mom for how much her words registered to me. I still broadcast them, but I wasn't giving them any active attention. They were boring and dealt with stuff I didn't care about. This talk was an Arbiter, Phobia, or Avtandil thing. I decided to do other things to amuse myself.
Fox news reporter tries to hide mustard stain on jacket with a lapel pin.
"Marshmallow! Can you please!" Arbiter hollered. "Will you behave yourself if I agree to vote in favor of your next ridiculous idea?"
You promise I added a promise emoji.
"Yes! Now just do a written dub of what I'm saying," Arbiter insisted.
Yes! Now just do a written dub of what I'm saying.
Arbiter shook her head in exasperation and continued addressing the reporters before taking questions.
A few years later
It was a sad fact that in any age in Earth's history, there were those unfortunates who had nothing. On a rainy night, in a dark alleyway in Oklahoma City, a little earth pony colt, perhaps eight or nine years old, huddled in a wooden crate, trying to keep warm and dry. By the looks of him, he hadn't been eating very well. I'd come upon him while projecting back and forth over a large area. I was supposed to be doing something else right now, but he was what held my attention.
I was invisible and could see a little camp set up near the box that he had clearly not set up. He was homeless, but he was not out on his own. There was at least one adult who spent time with him, maybe more. Unfortunately, it seemed that trying to get what they needed to survive meant leaving him by himself for periods. I couldn't leave him be. I had to do something.
I appeared just out of his range of vision, making myself a little earth pony filly form. I considered the form I made and then altered it a bit to look soaking wet. I was supposed to be standing out in the rain. It would draw attention to me being odd if I stood out in the rain but looked dry. I considered how to do this. I wasn't allowed to lie. That meant I couldn't give him my name or tell him where I was from or even some sob story about why I was there or that I was cold and wet. That would make engaging with him a challenge.
After deciding on a course of action, I moved into his view. He noticed me quickly, and did a startled jump, before looking left and right for more ponies. Having decided there was no one else, he returned his gaze to me.
"Hello? Who are you?" he asked me.
"I'm Rice," I answered. It wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth. My last name was Rice. "I didn't expect to find any colts out here. What's your name?"
"Ruben," he said quietly. "Do you live near here? You should go home. It's wet outside."
"I live a long way away," I replied. "Do you live here, in this crate?"
He gave a sad nod. "Yeah, just me and my dad."
"Where's your dad?" I asked.
He looked away. "Working, again." He then looked back at me. "Do you want to come in here, until the rain stops?"
I chuckled and smiled. "That's nice of you to ask, but the rain doesn't bother me. I like the rain. All the ponies in my family are pegasi except for my mother." Not a lie. I was the only pony in my family except for my mother-in-law.
He looked around again. "You aren't a pegasus. Where's your mom?"
I giggled. "Oh, I'm a pegasus, I'm just not showing you my wings. My mom is a long way away, not here."
He looked at my wingless sides and shook his head. "You're weird. What are you doing out here?"
I appeared to sit down. "I am weird, that's true, and I'm talking to you, silly. You looked like you could use a friend. Do you have any friends?"
He looked away again. "No, no friends. You don't want to be friends with me. I don't have any toys or even a house."
"Sure I do!" I insisted. I then came closer to him. "You know, I know what it's like to have no friends, and to be hungry, and alone, and waiting fearfully for your parent to come back."
"No, you don't," he muttered. He looked ready to cry.
I lowered my head. "When I was younger, my mom and I lived in a car There were no ponies around. She'd have to leave me alone in that car to go work all the time. Sometimes we would get to stay in a hotel, but the hotel was scarier than the car."
He looked at me again. "But you have a home now?"
I looked up and gave a soft smile. "Yeah, I have a home now, and a great life, and it all started with me meeting a special friend. I can tell you about it and be your special friend, but you have to promise to keep it a secret "
"I promise," he said.
I smiled "I'll hold you to that promise. Now on to my story. Be patient, it might take a while to say."
He looked around and shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Maybe you will. This story might change your life, but the real thing that will be making a friend," I said with a giggle.
He gave me a skeptical look, but then he smiled. "Whatever you say, Rice. Tell me the story."
I gave him an adoring look. It was strange how life could turn around and bring you back where you began. We live many lives in a lifetime. One of my lives was a homeless little filly not too different from what Ruben was like now. I wondered what Ruben's first memory was, and where his story began. I hoped to make sure his life took a very different twist today, just like a certain seapony did for me, many years ago.
I took a deep breath and began. "I think our lives begin at our first memory. My first memory came when I was four, it was a dream…"