//------------------------------// // chapter 13. Oasis edit // Story: Becoming Fluttershy // by Hope //------------------------------// His name is Edward, or Ed. He had actually been on his way to work when he and his girlfriend saw us pass by. Out of sheer curiosity to see if I had actually been the real Fluttershy, they had turned around and followed us, trying to get a better look and hoping that we would stop in town. All this was explained in an attempt to give us a reason not to think he was stalking me, what with the shirt and all. I could care less, I am just quite pleased that he has the girl drive us to his house in their truck while he drives ahead of us in my car. At least the girl is willing to chat with us. “So what’s it like being a pony? Do they talk to you in your head and stuff?” She asks curiously. I am fairly sure she means the question innocently enough, but the answer isn’t going to be simple. “It’s different. I woke up like this first and had Julien's help getting used to it before he woke up as Shining. Hard to drive a car, that's for sure.” Julien laughs. “Hard to drive is an understatement, I am really surprised we lasted as long as we did.” “For the second question... Well.” I think for a moment how exactly to answer it without scaring her. “We sort of... Feel the same way they would feel. Not to the point where I can’t talk to strangers but I am a bit more prone to becoming scared, and such.” I don’t feel like going into detail about the Angel incident, or the brief dreams I'd had. “Oh, well that doesn’t sound fun at all.” The girl says, and I realize right about then that I don’t know her name. “My name is Erica, by the way, I never got to introduce myself.” I say, leaning forward a bit from the back seat. “I’m Jessica. Ed’s sister.” She replies. Well, I sure missed the mark on that one, didn’t I? Although this is Kansas... No, I will just have to admit I was wrong. Julien doesn’t seem nearly as surprised, I imagine he had figured it out before I woke up, or maybe I was just oblivious. The rest of the drive goes quickly, as I stare out the front window at the back of my car. The drivers side of the trunk is smashed in a quarter of the car’s width. I can only pray the tent within is undamaged, we still have several nights to spend in it. The brake light is pretty much gone, and the little sticker from the dealership that I never removed is all that is keeping a chunk of the bumper on. I never named my car like some people do (see: other roommate), but we shared some good times. Driving from place to place to fix computers, before that the daily trek in to work from my friend’s house in cold springs, and before I moved to Reno there was the 1000 mile drive up from Arizona to visit... My thoughts sort of stall out, as I withdraw into myself. Julien notices, but doesn’t say anything as we pull off the paved road onto gravel, then shortly dirt roads. The jostling of the truck doesn’t shake me out of my tumultuous thoughts, however. Julien’s hoof does. “Erica, we’re here.” He says as I look up in confusion. With a weak chuckle, I jump out of the truck, making a short glide down to the ground before trotting over to my car. “Can you pop the trunk please? If you don’t mind.” I ask Ed. He pops it open and my hopeful smile crumbles. The tent was closest to the rear of the car, and the poles ended up acting as a brace between the two sides of the trunk as they collapsed. The tent is ruined. The soda cans have mostly exploded, soaking Julien’s now useless clothes as well as half the bedding. The food seems to have come through it mostly intact, having been on the right of the trunk and flying into the blankets during the crash. Looking at the clothes, I suddenly take notice of an oddity I hadn’t noticed before. “Julien, the night you were changed, you went to sleep wearing clothes, right?” I ask. The point of the question dawns on him and he sighs. “My favorite pair of pants, gone forever I suppose, then.” I chuckle but turn back to the trunk. “We lost all the drinks, the tent, and we need to wash our bedding at a laundromat.” “I have a washing machine, or... My dad has a washing machine you can use.” Ed corrects himself. Oh great, parent figure that has to meet me as a pony, in Kansas of all places. The stereotypes run rampant in my head. I can’t help but wonder if he will think of me as an animal too, but I can only hope that I get lucky. “Thank you.” I make a little bow to him as I grab my own small bag with my brushes and such in it. “Ca’ oo ‘ab ‘ah ‘ohne, Ju’ien?” I say around the handle in my mouth. He nods and grabs my backpack, phone, and a few of his things in the shimmering rose-colored magic. I am quite sure even thinking the word pink in this context would upset him. After setting the backpack in between my wings, Ed leads us to the house. The sparse farmland around us fades the closer we get to the two story structure, grass and small but carefully attended trees take its place. The building itself is painted a faded blue with white trim. The door stands open as if beckoning us in to get out of the sun, and all I can think is that all this wonderful scenery is a great prelude to being kicked out on my flank. But hope drives me onward. I throw a pretty decent smile on my face and try not to think too hard on how much of my face is hidden by my mane. I might not be afraid of meeting strangers by default, but strangers that could easily stop my journey with a word? That is a different matter. Upon stepping into the house, I feel an air of relaxation descend on me like a blanket in the cold. Pots of flowers center on tables and shelves, paintings of forests and white-capped mountains adorn the walls. Entering the room and being led by his daughter, is a mountain of a man. I don’t just describe him such because I am so small, either. He stands easily seven feet tall. His kind blue eyes meet mine and he chuckles in a low bass growl and shakes his head. “Well I’ll be damned. Ponies.” He says as he takes a seat next to a nearby table. As he sits I can clearly see that the length of his right leg poking out of his shorts has been reduced to a stump and curved spring-like piece of metal. It looks brand new, and I piece together his daughter helping him into the room with this, determining that it must be a fairly recent injury. “Well lass, I’ve been told you can speak, my name is Ron. You’ve met my boy, Ed, and my daughter, Jessica.” He gestures to each. I shake myself out of staring at his leg and drop the bag out of my mouth. “My name is Julien. This is Erica.” He beats me to the punch. “Um... yeah, sorry.” I apologize. “I’ve also been told you are in need of some automotive work, due to my boy’s tailgating.” He says with a somber look at the boy. “Oh! No, it was my fault, I took my eyes off the road, and then we stopped so suddenly, and he didn’t have time to stop, and it was all my fault, it really was!” I finally stop to catch my breath and look back up to see the man smiling and shaking his head. “You’ve been driving a car?” He looks at me like I am insane, which I probably was for the idea anyway. In answer I just smile and shrug. “But it takes two to tango, lass. Either way I aim to make it up to you. You can stay here in our spare room until we’ve fixed the car. With my injury I haven’t had many cars to work on. Customers are less agreeable to bringing their cars to me, so I have been cooped up in here, as he,” The man points an accusing finger at the boy despite keeping his grin. “Has been watching ponies every day on that netflix thing, nothing else. Have to say, I woulda thought the pink one would be the one tearing down the road and smashing into things.” I nod quickly. “Thank you so much! it really means alot to me!” I say eagerly, bouncing up and down a little. “One thing though.” The man grows quite a bit more serious. “You will eat dinner at the table, just like the rest of the family. You will say grace with the rest of the family. You will not swear.” He lists off. “Bedtime is nine. Got it?” His stern expression scares me more than the car crash did. “Y... Yes sir.” I stammer. Julien gives a nod, his eyes every so slightly narrowed. “Very good.” Ron’s face shines with his smile again and he stands, carefully. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour.” He says as his daughter helps him out of the room. I am a tad shell shocked by the sudden change of mood, but once he is gone, Ed just chuckles. “Don’t mind him, let me show you your room.” We are led up the stairs to a hallway and the first door on the right is opened to show a spacious room that looks like it was designed for twins. Two small beds sit, one per window on each side of the room. We set down our things and I pull open my work backpack, nudging open my laptop to happily see the screen is still intact. “Wireless password is rainbow dash, no space.” Ed says with a smirk. “Your favorite pony is rainbow dash?” I ask curiously as I slowly manipulate the keyboard to sign into the wireless network. “No offense. You, or Fluttershy I suppose, doesn’t have the speed that Dash does.” He says, leaning against the door frame. “Oh I understand, I tried doing more than hovering, got a face full of dirt.” I wrinkle my nose in remembrance. The moment I log on I hear my phone do it’s familiar badoop alert tone. I don’t bother with the small keys of my blackberry, and instead I go to Facebook with the laptop. “So is Fluttershy like, in your head?” I am asked for the second time today. I sigh and look to Julien for help. He flips a lock of blue hair out of his eyes. “We are being slowly fused with the ponies whose bodies we share. I am thinking more and more like Shining Armor would, she is thinking more like Fluttershy.” He explains in blunt and simple terms. “Oh.” Ed thinks on that for a moment before drawing his conclusion. “Thats f***ing terrifying.” He says with a sympathetic look towards me. I am a bit distracted with reading a message I received on Facebook from the mystery friend “Reid”. It becomes more and more apparent as I read that this is Pinkie Pie. “Heyo heyo! Hail to the fellow hoofed adventurer! I'm tracking my map and yours too, are you headed to Kansas? Cause I am! Maybe we should meet up in Kansas City for a shuffle. Puns and tropes, tropes and puns. Anywho, gotta cut this short, there is a horse here looking at me. GO SEE A HORSE FLUTTERSHY. IT WILL BE AWESOME. Laters!” I realize two things as I finish reading. Firstly, I am not sure what exactly a trope even is. That frightens me since I fancy myself a writer. Secondly, others are making the journey I am, which is a sort of relief. I’m not sure why I didn’t think more on that, I am not alone. For what that is worth. Thirdly, A white hoof is being waved in front of my face. “Wha?” I look up to see Ed and Julien both looking at me with concern. “You okay?” Julien asks. I nod. “Yeah, Pinkie-Reid sent us a message. Apparently we could meet up in Kansas City, and join up for the rest of the trip.” I explain. Julien sighs. “Pinkie Pie. The least responsible of the ponies, and that's the one we get to travel with?” He says in an exasperated tone, turning back to his stuffed dragon and his one clean pillow. “Yeah, I know. Something about seeing a horse... I dunno.” I type out a quick message asking for clarification and send it off, before noticing a friend request from someone named “Joshua Bucking Hart” who has adorned their wall with more Pinkie Pie than I could possibly enjoy. Kind of odd since that means I can’t guess which pony this one is, if it is one. I finally close the laptop with a sigh, stretching my forelegs. “Hey, if you want to take a bath or shower before dinner, you look a bit ragged. Bathroom is at the end of the hall.” Ed says before leaving our door. I look to Julien to see if he wants to call dibs on it. “I am still fabulously clean despite my bleached fur. Don’t know how that’s possible but I will figure out the shower situation after dinner. You go.” I nod and make my way to the end of the hall, opening the door and closing it behind myself with a sigh. The bathroom is a much darker blue than the rest of the house, and the walls are painted. Not just a solid color but a mural of a castle overlooking the sea. I stare at it for some time before making my way into the tub and cleaning myself in the slightly chilly spray. I really needed it to become more aware. My head hurts, one of my wings aches a bit, I have a scratch on my back right leg that I can’t remember getting, and my eyes feel heavy. By the time I dry off, I can hear Ron's thundering voice calling out for everyone to come downstairs. I shake out my wet wings and trot downstairs, as usual avoiding the stairs by hovering. The little group, including Julien, seems to have been waiting for me. As soon as I sit down next to my friend, everyone closes their eyes. Right, grace. I suppose the fact that I don’t know how that works is obvious by how long it takes for me to close my eyes and bow my head, but luckily they don’t notice. “We thank thee Lord for food and drink, In Jesus' name we pray” Ron rumbles. I keep my head down until I hear the tinkling of silverware. I look up and see everyone looking at me with grins as I flush red. “Never said grace before, lass?” Ron asks with an amused wave of the fork. “Um... I... Well you see...” I can’t think of anything that doesn't make it seem like I’m a heathen or something, but he holds up a hand. “You’re not gonna make me angry, It’s a house rule. Don’t worry about what you do at your own table.” He explains. “No I haven’t. I don’t mind though! It was kind of nice, bringing everyone together for dinner.” I say, looking at the plate of salad in front of me eagerly. “Well what’s the purpose of dinner but to bring the family together to eat?” He asks rhetorically. I hope it was rhetorical because I am far too busy shoving lettuce in my mouth to answer with anything but a smile and a nod. The rest of dinner goes smoothly, with Ron asking us where we were from and Ed talking about ponies. Jessica remains quiet most of the time until I ask about the paintings and she speaks up. Apparently she has been painting since she was a kid, and the bathroom was a recent project of hers. Julien mostly watches Ron, and towards the end of dinner he asks about money for repairing the car. Ron waves it off. “My friend has more junk cars than he can deal with, I’ll get some spare parts from him and fix it right up.” After dinner we make our way to our room and collapse. What a day, I wonder what my insurance company would think about a pony driving my car?