//------------------------------// // Cherry Hill // Story: Songbird // by Acoustic Pulse //------------------------------// Buster awoke the next morning to the sound of knocking on the barn door. He heard the sound of Cherry's voice coming from outside, "Buster. Ready to get to work?" He sat up and turned to you, "Well, it looks like I got another busy day ahead of me. Let's go see what we can get ourselves into." He got up and climbed down from the loft. He opened the door and stepped out, "Ready when you are, Ms. Cherry." "Good. Today, we're going to sort red cherries and yellow cherries. Let's go get the tarp off this wagon and roll it on over to the sorting house," Cherry pulled the tarp off. Cherry strapped herself to the wagon and motioned for Buster to do the same. He had watched her do that so he was able to mirror it. They were both ready to move the wagon now. They start trotting, dragging the heavy wagon behind them. It was a long way across the ranch to get to the sorting house. Cherry unhooked herself from the wagon and went to open the door. She used a couple large stones to hold the doors open and let some breeze in. Once the doors were propped open, she went and hooked herself back up to the cart. She turned to Buster, "Alright, let's get these cherries inside." Buster nodded and they started moving the wagon into the sorting house. She stopped in front of a machine that had a cherry painted on it, "This here's the conveyor belt. The cherries will roll out through that curtain there. As you can see, there are two baskets. One has a red cherry and the other has a yellow one. It's fairly self explanatory." "So how do we move that there conveyor belt?" Buster asked. "I'll show ya," she trotted over to a wheel in the center of the room. She stepped onto it and started trotting forward slowly. The cherries of each color started rolling across the conveyor belt. She stopped when the belt was covered in cherries. Buster started pushing the yellow cherries into the basket with the yellow cherry and the red cherries into the basket with the red cherry. "Yep, that's all ya gotta do. I'll keep movin' this wheel and you keep sortin' them cherries," Cherry continued to trot and spin the wheel. "You got it, Ms. Cherry, we'll get these cherries sorted in no time at all," Buster kept sorting them. "We'll be here all day if I move this slow. Let me hurry on up and get to a canter, at least," she sped up to a canter. Buster was able to keep up with her. He turned to you, "Well, this is light work right here. I could do this all day. I'm sure there's tasks y'all carry out each day that are simple like this, you know how it is." He went back to sorting the cherries. They stopped after awhile. He turned to Cherry Jubilee, waiting to see what this was about. "We're gon' stop and grab us a bite to eat. You hungry?" she asked. "I reckon I could eat. What have you got in mind?" he answered. "I got a cherry pie bakin' in the oven. It should be done by now. We can split it and get back to work. You can join me in the farmhouse and help yourself," the ranch owner offered. "That sounds right good to me, I'll see ya over there in a bit," Buster nodded. Buster made his way up onto the front porch of the farmhouse and knocked on the door. "It's unlocked, Buster, come on in," Cherry called. He obliged and opened the door, stepped inside, closing it behind him. "The pie's cooled enough for us to eat it. You can help yourself," she invited him. "Well, thank ya kindly, Ms. Cherry and I do appreciate you having me in your home," Buster removed his hat, hanging it on a rack by the front door. "Ain't no problem, Buster, I just figured we'd go and get us somethin' warm to eat and cool to drink after workin' out there in that sortin' house all mornin'," Cherry smiled. "Well, that there sounds reasonable enough to me, Ms. Cherry," Buster smiled back. "Here, I done set the table for us. You can eat what you want, leave what you don't," she had cut the pie into 8 slices, putting 4 of them on her side of the table and 4 of them on the other side for him. He sat on the opposite side of the table from her. He picked up a slice of pie and took a bite of it. He gave an approving nod before taking another bite, "Ya know, Ms. Cherry, this pie is mighty good." "I'd sure hope it is, considering how many years I've been baking," she couldn't help but laugh. "It certainly shows. I ain't ate this good since I was—" he hesitated before saying, "alive." "Alive? What do you mean? You don't expect me to believe you're a ghost, do you, Buster?" she teased him. "I don't really know, to be quite honest with ya, Ms. Cherry. There's a lot you need to know about me since you've hired me to work here and have even gone as far as to invite me into your home to eat with ya," he was ready to discuss a topic he'd been avoiding before. "Like what? What do I need to know about you?" Cherry was unapologetically curious. "It's a long story. Maybe it could wait until after the cherries are sorted," Buster suggested. "That's alright, Buster, them cherries ain't going nowhere. Go ahead on and tell me what you need to tell me," she coaxed him to start talking. "Alright, but it'll be hard to believe. Just know that what I'm telling you is the honest truth," he warned. "Well, I'll take what you say with a grain of salt since I still don't really know ya all that well, but I'll humor you," Cherry sat and waited for him to talk. "Okay then. I'll start from the beginning. So, this here Equestria place you've known all your life, it ain't home for me. I ain't from here," Buster opened up. "If you ain't from Equestria then where are you from? You sound like you'd be from around Appleoosa or so," Cherry raised an eyebrow. She was wary of Buster's tale. "Ms. Cherry, I'm gonna look you right directly in the eye. I need you to look at me too. Does this look like the face of a liar? I need you to trust me on this and I also request that you listen to me while I'm talkin' to you. I feel as though it's important for you to know this. Okay?" Buster's blue eyes were fixed on Cherry's green ones. Her eyes met his, she could tell the stallion was serious and nodded, agreeing to listen, "Okay, Buster." "Now, to answer your question, I am from Reata Pass in San Saba County, Texas. It's in a land far off from this Equestria place. I wasn't always a stallion. I was a human being; a man. I once stood on two legs instead of four. My other two limbs were called arms. I didn't have hooves. I had hands and feet. I had a horse named Dan. He used to carry me across the Mojave Desert. He was a pet. It's a bit ironic that I ended up here and now I'm the stallion. Fate's got a funny way of running things sometimes," Buster began. "You spin quite a tale there, Buster. So what did you do when you were a 'human'?" she asked. "Well, as I was saying, I'd travel across the desert on horseback. I was singing songs and slinging guns. I was given the sobriquet, "San Saba Songbird". I was considered an outlaw but I only ever killed folks who challenged me," he continued. "An outlaw? So you was a bandit? A criminal? I don't take too kindly to them kinda folks. Just how much of a fool do ya think I am?" Cherry eyed him suspiciously. "You ain't no fool, Ms. Cherry. Criminal and bandit are mere exaggerations. Them boys back where I came from messed around and they found out. That's really all there is to it. I'd never go out of my way to bring harm to anyone. They'd challenge me to duels and I'd beat 'em. Simple as that," Buster replied. "So how did you end up here?" Cherry was having a hard time trusting Buster even though he seemed genuine and carried himself with an air of confidence that was difficult to fabricate. "A good question. So I entered the town of Frenchman's Gulch in Arizona, another town from the place I initially came from. I was just there to hit the saloon and play some cards. Maybe indulge myself in a couple drinks. I walk through the swingin' doors and some older fella was standing there. Told me to turn in my weapons at the door because it was house policy. I did so and then I was allowed into the establishment. Someone got up from the card table and I sat down. I asked to take his place, they said I could if I played the hand he was dealt. I looked at the hand and saw it was the Dead Man's Hand. I refused to play the hand because it was bad luck," Buster stopped to make sure Cherry was following. She nodded as if to tell him to continue. "This feller across the table from me, we'll just call him Surly Joe, kept saying 'you seen em, you play em'. I continued to refuse and he pulled a concealed weapon on me. Threatened my life. I was unarmed at the time because I followed the no guns rule that the saloon had. My gun was over by the swinging doors. I ended up kicking a loose plank of wood on the table, the board flipped up, hit his arm, and the man hit himself with his own weapon. I did this a couple more times and he fell dead by his own hands. A pity, that was. All they had to do was deal me in the next round and all that coulda been avoided," Buster shook his head. "What happened after that? I assume tensions were pretty high in that situation," Cherry was enthralled by the story but was still skeptical of its validity. "They were, you could feel the tension in the air. I sang a song to try and settle everyone down. It seemed to work cuz they was all singing along with me. We was having a grand ol' time until that feller's brother walked in and saw what had happened to Joe. He challenged me to a duel to try and avenge his brother. I respected his decision, but he really didn't know what he was gettin' himself into. Heck, I didn't either. I got my gun back, went outside, I defeated Surly Joe's brother in that duel. That's when another cowboy rode into a town on a dark horse. He challenged me to a duel as well, saying he'd been hunting me down because I was the one to beat. In a fit of overconfidence and arrogance, I told him I didn't need a count when he offered me one. He drew his gun and fired before I could even react. I heard the shot, took my hat off, saw it was all bloody. Checked my face in the mirror, saw the hole in my head. I said, 'Welp, that ain't good,' and I fell dead right there on the dusty street of that town," Buster was nearly done. "This doesn't make any sense, Buster, how do you expect me to believe any of this?" Cherry was scratching her mane in confusion. "Well, I just remember The Kid, that's what the feller who bested me was known as, kicking dust over my body. That allowed my soul to leave. I remember my soul growing wings and flying up into the sky. I figured it was over then so I said one last prayer. I said that wherever I ended up, I hoped that folks weren't low down and that poker was played fair. I woke up in the San Palomino Desert. I was a stallion, which is still bizarre to me might I add, and I just remember feeling really dehydrated. That's how I knew I was alive again, because the dead don't need no kinda hydration. I ended up tripping over a railroad track. I got up and followed the tracks to Dodge Junction," Buster finished. "So when you entered town, you went straight to the saloon?" Cherry asked. "Well, of course I did, that's what I do every time I visit a new town. I played cards with some fellas there, they was awful friendly. I had no money and one of 'em paid for me to play. I ended up winnin' and splittin' the earnings with him. Then they all cleared out and I asked the Dealer if there was any places for me to stay. He told me about your situation with your previous employee and said to come find you. The rest is history, I reckon," Buster answered. "This sounds so outlandish, but my gut tells me you ain't lyin' to me," Cherry was reluctantly beginning to believe the story Buster told her. "I ain't got no reason to lie, Ms. Cherry. What can I do to prove it to ya?" Buster sighed. A wry smile flashed across her face, "You said they called you the Songbird right? Sing me a song then, Mr. Songbird." Buster smiled and nodded, "That, I can do." Cherry chuckled a bit, "Let's hear it then." "You wouldn't happen to have a guitar, would you? Mine didn't come here with me," Buster asked, a hopeful gleam in his eye. He missed the sound of plucked strings. "As a matter of fact, Buster, I do. It's in a spare room somewhere, I'll run and grab it for ya," Cherry disappeared and came back with an acoustic guitar. "That'll do right nicely, Ms. Cherry. This one's called Cool Water, it's one of my favorites. You ready?" Buster took a sip of water. "Yeah, I'm ready. Sing it, Mr. Songbird," Cherry teased. He held the guitar for a bit. He strummed it with his hooves, "This is a bit unusual because I ain't got hands no more, but I reckon I'll manage. I need ya to do me a favor to help perfect the sound, Ms. Cherry." "I ain't played in awhile, Buster, that guitar's just been sittin' around collecting dust these last couple of years," Cherry wasn't ready to play an instrument. "Ya don't need to, just drum on the wooden floor with your front hooves to get me a rhythm goin'. It'll sound right nice, trust me," Buster coaxed. "Alright, fine," she sighed and began laying down a metronome-style rhythm on the floor. "That's perfect, now listen to this," he began playing the guitar and singing Cool Water. It sounded like this: "Well, now I see why they called you the San Saba Songbird. I reckon I misjudged you, Buster," Cherry conceded. "It's alright, I know it's hard to believe. I still can't hardly believe it myself. Thank ya for sharing your pie with me and for listenin' to my song. You're alright, Ms. Cherry," Buster smiled. Cherry rolled her eyes at first, but cracked a smile in the end, "You ain't so bad yourself, Songbird." They both laughed. Buster turned and looked out a window then back to Cherry Jubilee, "You reckon we should finish sortin' them cherries?" "No time like the present, let's get back to work," Cherry trotted toward the door. Buster grabbed his hat off the rack and put it back on his head. He then opened the door for Cherry and followed her out. They made their way back to the sorting house. "Let's get this done while there's still daylight. I'm gonna sort the cherries, I just want you to run on the wheel and move the conveyor belt," Cherry ordered. "Sounds like a plan. How fast do you want me to move?" Buster stepped onto the wheel and awaited further instruction. "A brisk trot, maybe a canter. Don't go full gallop because it'll spill cherries everywhere," she warned. "Alright, get ready," he broke into a canter and cherries started rolling across the conveyor belt at a steady pace. Cherry Jubilee was able to sort them fairly quickly because she had been doing it for so many years. After awhile, the red and yellow cherry baskets were filled to the brim. "We gotta do one last thing and then we can call it a day. It's starting to get dark anyhow," Cherry told Buster. "What do ya need me to do?" Buster asked. "We need to roll these into the farmhouse kitchen. I'll begin using them to bake goods like that pie we shared today. I'll teach ya how to bake so expect to spend a lot of time with me in the kitchen," Cherry plotted out the game plan for tomorrow. "That don't bother me none. I'll be ready," Buster started pushing one of the baskets out the door. "Good. I'll get the other basket," she pushed the other one outside as well. She stopped long enough to push the rocks out the way, causing the sorting house doors to close behind them. The duo began to push the baskets toward the farm house. Luckily, these carts had wheels, which made them a little easier to move. They had a bit of trouble because the wheels would get caught on rocks from time to time and they had to fix it. Other than that, they didn't have much trouble. When they got back to the farmhouse, Cherry held open the door and buster pushed each of the two baskets into the house. Cherry shut the door behind them. The two of them took their cherry baskets and she led Buster to the kitchen, where they left them. "That'll do, Buster. Thank you. Since you're already in the house, you can stay here tonight. I got a spare room you can stay in," she offered. "Are ya sure?" Buster asked. "Well, if ya wanna trudge all the way across the Ranch to the barn and then climb all the way up to the loft again, be my guest. I figured a resourceful stallion like yourself would take the path of least resistance," Cherry was confused. "Naw, I don't mind staying here at all. I just wasn't sure if you trusted me. You said yourself that you still didn't know me very well. Granted, it's only been a couple days. We'll have plenty of time for that since I'll be working for you long term," Buster explained. "I have a hard time trusting anypony, Songbird, it ain't just you. Now go ahead on and get some rest, I'll see you tomorrow," Cherry went up to her room. "Have a good night, Ms. Cherry," Buster went and found a room on the first floor to crash in. END OF CHAPTER 2!