//------------------------------// // When A Cowboy Trades His Spurs For...Hooves? // Story: Songbird // by Acoustic Pulse //------------------------------// The blazing sun shined over the San Palomino Desert, a beige stallion clad in a white shirt, white hat, tan pants, and boots that had splashes of white and brown was trotting slowly across the sand. The stallion turned to face you, "Well, this is highly irregular. I'm sure y'all remember me being shot in the head by The Kid." The cowboy took a look around, observing his surroundings before speaking to you again, "This still looks like the West, this ain't what I imagined Heaven lookin' like. I hope it's a better place than where I just left. Otherwise, I'd have died for nothing and that would be highly disappointing." He looks at himself, "Wait a minute, are these hooves? Have I reincarnated as a horse? I suppose that wouldn't be such a bad thing. I can run wild and free for the rest of this new life the big man upstairs has blessed me with." He sits and ponders, these new hooves he had reminded him of his loyal horse, Dan. He missed his friend and hated that being beaten in that duel meant he had to leave him behind. He was still reeling at the fact that he was no longer a human, but he came to his senses when he felt the desert sun scorching him. He decided he'd look for a town to get out the heat. He turned to you again, "Even after living a rough life out in the West, I still never got used to this dadgum heat. Hopefully, I'll find some shade soon." The stallion began the long trot across the San Palomino Desert. He sang a song to try and distract himself from the heat. Been trudging through the desert all day long. This heat ain't budging but my legs stay strong. High spirits, good songs, nothing can go wrong. "Woahhh!" he caught one of his hooves on something metallic and fell over. He was still getting used to his new legs and tripped. He looked down to see a railroad track. He had tripped over one of the metal rails. "See? Nothing can go wrong. I found tracks. Where there's tracks, there's a train and trains lead to civilization. Let's follow these here tracks and see where they lead," the cowboy turned and started following the tracks. He started singing to himself again: Tracks in the sand, now I know where to go. Rather be on the train, hear the whistle blow. I'll die once more if I move too slow. There's mirages in the desert, they've begun to show. Cool Water mocking me, have to watch it flow. But I can't drink none and it hurts me so. My throat's getting dry, I better hit the road again. He stopped singing to clear his throat. It was very dry. There was a breeze kicking up sand and the wind pelted the stallion with the grains. He had sand in his eyes, in his snout, and he even inhaled some of it, causing a coughing fit. Lucky for the stallion, the suffering was short lived as he stumbled upon the outskirts of a dusty little town. He read a sign that said, WELCOME TO DODGE JUNCTION! It was a tiny town with a few old wooden buildings bunched together. Way out on the other edge of it was a huge ranch with groves of cherry trees as far as the eye can see. He stepped off the tracks and up onto the steps of the train station. A few ponies were there waiting for the train to Canterlot. They stare as the stranger approaches them. "Howdy," the stallion greeted them. "What's your name, stranger? What brings you to Dodge Junction?" a bystander asked. "My name's Buster. Buster Scruggs," he introduced himself. "What's your business here in Dodge Junction, Buster?" another bystander wondered. "I been trudging 'cross that desert over yonder and I was wondering if it were possible for me to procure a splash of water because that there desert and my throat are at comparable levels of dryness," Buster explained. "You walked all the way across the San Palomino Desert?" a mare raised her eyebrow. "Is that what that desert's called? I ain't never heard of it. I woke up there and just started walkin'. Didn't know what else to do, I just wanted to get away from that sun and find me some water," Buster said. "There's a well over in the middle of town, you can help yourself," the last bystander pointed it out. Buster turned and saw it, then nodded to the group, "Thank y'all kindly. Y'all been very amiable hosts to your humble houseguest." "I reckon you must be from the city talkin' all proper like that," one of them laughed. "Naw sir, I'm from Reata Pass," Buster corrected him. "Re-who-ta What?" he hadn't heard of such a place. "It's over in Texas. San Saba County, they call me the San Saba Songbird," Buster was confused as to why they didn't know who he was or where he was from. Everyone knew about the San Saba Songbird, the West Texas Tit (meaning the species of bird, of course), The Misanthrope, the Runt from Reata Pass. "That don't ring a bell," the stallion shrugged. He turned to you, "No one knows who I am here. I notice now lookin' at my belt that I no longer have my six iron. But neither do these other horse folk. This could mean that I got what I asked for as I left the land of gunslingers and outlaws." He pulled up water from the well and drank nearly the entire bucket. The relief of that sandpaper feeling in his mouth and throat being gone was immense. He speaks to you once more, "Well, it's good to see these horse folk ain't low down. Now I wanna know if their poker's played fair. Let's mosey on over to yon' saloon and see what variety of recreation we can get ourselves into." A dusty wooden shack with swinging doors stood nearby. The word SALOON was painted over the doors in a sprawling red font. He entered and took a look around. There was a small bar and a few small tables scattered about. All the way at the back was a card table. There were eight seats at the table but only seven stallions sitting around it, leaving a seat open for Buster. Buster walks up to them, "Y'all mind if I join in?" "Go ahead on, pardner. Take that empty seat there," the dealer pointed to the empty seat. Buster obliged and sat down to join them. "You came in at a good time, I was just about to deal out new hands," the Dealer smiled. "Any of y'all won big today?" Buster smiled and looked around. The others remained silent, they were wary of the newcomer and kept their gazes fixed on their cards. "Oh, I see, y'all got them poker faces goin' on. I respect it," Buster sat and waited for the Dealer to deal the cards and set the pot. Each pony received two cards. Three were set face up in the middle of the table. The two blinds began the pot by placing 6 bits on the table. Big Blind placed 4, Little Blind placed 2. The others called, each adding 2 bits of their own, bringing the total pot to 16 bits. It was Buster's turn and that's when he remembered he had no money. "Uh, fellas, in my haste to engage in recreation with you fine folk, I neglected to mention that I am currently without coin," Buster said. "Don't worry about that, partner, I'll throw in a couple for ya," a stallion sitting across the table threw a couple more bits onto the table so Buster wouldn't have to fold. This raised the pot to 18 bits. "Thank ya kindly, sir. Tell ya what, if I win this, I'll split the earnings with ya," Buster promised. "I'll hold ya to that," the other stallion smirked. Once they all called, the Dealer added a fourth card face up on the table. A couple stallions folded because they didn't like their hands. That left Buster and five others still in contention for the money in the pot. They all decided to check. The pot was fairly small and nobody was losing too much if they did this. This intrigued Buster because in a game of luck like Poker, you have to take risks. None of these fellas were taking any risks in this game. "If I may inquire something, why ain't y'all doing anything crazy like bettin' high or goin' all in?" Buster asked. The Dealer placed the fifth and final card face up on the table and laughed at his question, "We've been playin' cards here for years. We tend to keep pots low because we're just here to have fun. I'm from Las Pegasus originally and I've seen mares and stallions throw away their entire life savings on this card game. One fella even bet the deed to his house and lost. Luckily, he had family to take him in. They got him the help he needed, which is more than most can say they got. He may have had bad luck at the card table but he was fortunate to have a family that cared about him. I know I'm rambling at this point, I just don't wanna see folks lose everything they have anymore. It's why I left Las Pegasus and moved here to Dodge Junction." When the last card was placed on the table, this caused a couple more stallions to fold. This left only Buster and 2 others still playing. "I seen folks up and kill each other over this game. I understand it. They lose big and feel they've been cheated, it escalates very quickly," Buster added. "Wait. Die? Kill? I ain't heard of nothin' that awful happening anywhere in Equestria. Where did you say you was from?" one of the stallions who had folded asked him. "Reata Pass in San Saba County, Texas," Buster answered. "I ain't never heard of Texas. Where in Equestria is that?" he asked. "Oh it's in another land, far off from here. Where'd you say this was? Equestria? Oh I get it. Equine, like horses and ponies. That would explain why we're all stallions here," Buster was starting to connect the dots. "Well, yeah, I reckon. I never thought much of it before. There's more than just ponies in this land though. We got all kinds of folk," the folder explained. "That's mighty interestin', I reckon I'll have to explore this land to see what else it has to offer. If they're all fine folk such as yourselves, life here might not be so bad," Buster was starting to feel a little optimistic about his new life with an extra pair of legs. "Equestria's got a lot to offer, I think you'll enjoy it here," the stallion who paid for Buster to play added. "Alright, y'all, it is time to reveal your hands. Let's see what y'all got," the Dealer announced. The five cards laying face up on the table were the King of Spades, the Ace of Diamonds, the Queen of Hearts, the Eight of Spades, and the Ace of Hearts. The first of the three remaining stallions revealed his hand, he had the Five of Diamonds and the Five of Hearts. His hand was a Two Pair, Aces and Fives. The stallion who paid a little extra for Buster to play revealed his hand, he had the Jack of Hearts and the Jack of Diamonds. His hand was a Two Pair, Aces and Jacks. The last to reveal their hand was Buster Scruggs. He decided to add a little drama by revealing his first card, which was just a Two of Clubs. The other stallions laughed at him. The Dealer gave him a stern look, "Alright, quit foolin' about and reveal your other card." Buster obliged and revealed his second card, which was the Queen of Diamonds. He won with a Two Pair, Aces and Queens. "Looks like you win, new guy. You can hold onto these 18 bits and now you've got a little money in your pocket," the Dealer said. "I think you mean I can hold onto 9 bits," Buster said, keeping his promise to split the earnings with the guy who paid for him to play. He slid the other 9 bits across the table to him. "You're a strange guy, Buster Scruggs, but you're a stallion of your word and I admire that," the Payer smiled. "Well, it was a good amount of fun playing cards with y'all. I appreciate y'all lettin' me into your game. Perhaps we can play again sometime," Buster rose from his seat. He put the 9 bits in a chest pocket he had on his shirt and started going toward the door. He paused and turned back to the Dealer, "Are there any places I can stay around here?" The Dealer pondered for a moment, "I believe you're lookin' for Cherry Hill Ranch." "Are you sure they'd let me bunk up there?" Buster was dubious of that. "Sure they will, if'n you're willin' to work. From what I hear, Ms. Jubilee's looking for a new ranch hoof since the one she hired only worked there for a short time. She went back home to Ponyville, last I heard. Her friends came out here trying to find her and bring her home, it was quite the spectacle. Speak to her and she'll fill ya in on all them details," the Dealer explained. "Alright then, I'll have to head on over there and see if I can work that out," Buster thanked him for the help and then stepped back outside through the swinging doors. It took a bit for his eyes to readjust to the sunlight. Even with the hat shielding his eyes, it was awfully bright out. The white-clad stallion started trotting toward the edge of town. As he got closer to Cherry Hill, it dawned on him just how massive the place was. Cherry trees looked like they stretched for miles, although they probably didn't go that far. He saw a big red barn and decided to approach it. Before he could knock on the door, it swung open, almost smacking him in the face. The mare exiting the barn didn't realize he was there. She was dragging a massive wooden bucket behind her. It looked rather heavy so Buster decided to grab the other handle with his teeth and pick the other side of the bucket up off the ground. This eased the burden on the mare as she was able to carry it. "It feels lighter now, I must be getting stronger having to do this on my own right steady," the mare said aloud to no one in particular. The two of them carried the bucket to a nearby cherry tree and set it down. When the mare went to hit the tree and harvest cherries, she noticed a white blur in the corner of her eye. She turned to see Buster standing there and about jumped out of her coat. "You 'bout scared me half to death, how long you been standin' there gawkin' at me?" she was angry. "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am, I ain't mean to startle you. That bucket looked awful heavy so I was just helping you carry it is all," Buster explained. She dismissed him coldly, "Do I look like I needed help? I could've handled that well enough alone." "No, ma'am, I have no shame in admitting that it's me that needs your help," Buster conceded. "If this is your attempt at courting me, the answer's no," she shook the tree, causing cherries to fall into her bucket. "I was told by the card dealer at the local saloon that I'd be able to have a place to stay here if I was hired to work on your ranch," Buster ignored the courting comment, he didn't even know this mare. "So you're just lookin' for work? None of them other extracurriculars?" the mare continue to eye Buster suspiciously. "Work and a place to stay, ma'am, that's it," Buster confirmed. "Well, get you another bucket out the barn and start harvestin' these cherries. We'll talk about the rest when we're done," she still wasn't sure if she could trust him yet. She did know that a second pony harvesting her cherries will make her life a lot easier. "Alright, sounds good," Buster went to the barn and found a bucket that was similar to the one he saw the mare dragging across the ground before. He dragged it to a different cherry tree and started shaking the tree to make cherries fall. The mare stopped and watched Buster work for a moment. She thought, 'He just might be the help that I'm looking for.' She focused her attention back on her tree. The last of the cherries fell into her bucket. It was nearly overflowing with cherries now and it was extremely heavy. She was still trying to move it herself because she didn't want to admit that she needed Buster's help. Luckily, she didn't have to bring herself to ask for it. Buster was already there, lifting the other side of it off the ground. They brought it to this massive wooden wagon. They set it down long enough for her to drop the ramp. They lifted the bucket and carried it up the ramp and onto the wagon. She pulled her side of the bucket down while Buster lifted his side up. They were able to flip the bucket upside down and dump the cherries into the wagon. They climbed back down and repeated the process with the other bucket. The floor of the wagon was now covered in cherries. "I hate to admit it but you're off to a good start. If you'll be working for me, I suppose I should know what your name is," the mare said. "My name's Buster, Buster Scruggs. I suppose that means you're the Ms. Jubilee the card dealer told me about," he replied. "That's right. I am Cherry Jubilee, owner of Cherry Hill Ranch. All these trees you see growing, I've planted them. I been in the cherry business for decades now. The Ranch has done a lot of good for Dodge Junction but employee turnover's been rough for me lately. I can't seem to keep help for long. I'm ashamed to say that as I start to get older, it gets a little harder for me to do all this heavy liftin' by myself. If you'll be working for me and staying on my property, I ask of you one thing," Cherry rambled. "What can I do for ya?" Buster was confused but he had the right spirit. "Stay here longer than a day. If some friends come here and whisk you back to wherever ya came from, I just might have to catch a train to come and beat your tail," Cherry wasn't sure if she was joking or if she was serious and neither was Buster. She wanted to keep it that way. "Well, look here, darlin'---I mean ma'am---don't you be out here threatenin' me. I'm gonna put a moratorium on that right now. Don't let the white duds and pleasant demeanor fool you, I'm not one to take threats lightly. I just need a place to stay, if it means I gotta help around the ranch, I have no quarrel with that, but the next time you threaten me, I'm gonna hop on the next train out of town. Are we gonna have a healthy boss-employee relationship or are we gonna have us a problem? I've come to find out I'm pretty darned good at solvin' problems," Buster wasn't having it. "Oh, quit all that dadgum fussin', I was just playin' with you. If it makes you feel any better, I am grateful for the help. When we get that wagon filled to the brim with cherries, which'll probably be close to dark, you can sleep up in the loft of the barn. It ain't the most comfortable spot, but it should beat sleeping in the hard desert sand," Cherry sneered. Buster couldn't help but laugh, "You know what, I like you, I think we're gonna get along just fine." "We're gonna have to if you expect to stay here long-term," Cherry noted. "Duly noted, let's go round us up some cherries then," Buster took his empty bucket to the next cherry tree. Cherry Jubilee did the same with hers. They spent the rest of the day harvesting cherries. Just as the owner of Cherry Hill Ranch said, it took until sunset to get the wagon filled to the top with cherries. "Buster, come help me throw this tarp over this wagon, we'll get the red and yellow ones sorted tomorrow," Cherry beckoned him to go to her. He obliged and helped her lift the tarp up and cover the wagon. "Alright, that oughta do it. Here, Buster. An honest day's pay for an honest day's work. Your rate is 10 bits an hour. You put in 8 hours, you get 80 bits. You keep doing this kinda work, I'll bump you up to 12 after 3 months and then 15 after 6 months. That's assuming, of course, you stay that long," Cherry paid him the 80 bits. "Thank ya kindly, ma'am," Buster held the coin bag with his teeth. "One more thing before you head up to the loft to lay down," Cherry added. "What can I do for ya?" he inquired. "You ain't gotta call me ma'am. Just call me Ms. Cherry," she told him. "Alright then, Ms. Cherry. You have yourself a good night, I'll see ya tomorrow," Buster waved goodbye as she turned and trotted back toward her farmhouse. Buster turned and entered the barn, climbing up to the loft. He pushed loose bits of hay into a pile and it became his makeshift bed. He took his hat off and laid it on top of one of the hay bales. He was feeling a little bit hungry but he was too tired to eat. He laid down on his bed and turned to face you one more time, "Howdy. Sorry I haven't said nothin' to y'all since the saloon. I been busy. I think I done made me a couple friends and I done got me a job. Maybe this second chance at life will do me some good. It definitely beats slingin' guns and runnin' from the law. I'm awful tired so I'm gonna get me some rest. I'll see y'all later on." Buster drifted off to sleep. He had an unusual day and he wasn't quite sure what tomorrow would bring him. Only time would tell. END OF CHAPTER 1!