Hope and Changeling

by FrontSevens


Chapter 4 - Hide and Seek

Falling.
 
Nothing below me, and nothing above.  I was falling in a big, black empty.  Air was rushing past, tickling my fingers.
 
Far below, the ground came into view: a solid, mustard yellow floor.  A large, round hole opened up, though, and allowed me to pass through, into another empty space.
 
I continued falling, and another ground appeared, with another hole opening up.  This time, though, the hole was a little smaller, and less round.  I passed through this one as well.
 
This repeated, the holes getting smaller and more shaped.  One hole I passed was almost exactly outlined after me.  The floor after that, however, didn’t open up.  I kept falling, and the ground came closer.  I hoped that just one more hole would open up, but it didn’t.  I came closer and closer and closer, and, just before impact, I woke up.
 
Back to reality.  If it was reality…
 
I kept my eyes closed upon awakening.  When I opened my eyes, I would see my bedroom.  My fingers would exist, and my legs would be at their normal length.
 
Something tickled my nose, and I sneezed.  I opened my eyes to see a strand of hay poking up past my nose.
 
So much for that.
 
Groaning, I attempted to arise from my bed, but my back was stiff and sore.  The ground and I should have been separated by a little more hay.  Instead, I lay there, staring at what was left of my hooves.  I wanted a magical unicorn to poof me back home.  I wanted my soft, dry bed in my air-conditioned house.  I wanted…
 
…A cup of coffee.
 
After some difficult coordinated movements, I found my feet under me once again.  I was a little dizzy, and thirsty.  Breakfast was sure to wake me up.
 

~ ~ ~

 
Breakfast wasn’t quite what I expected.  Aunt Millie dished out a stack of green pancakes to each of us.  “What are these?” I asked.
 
“Why, grass pancakes, of course!” Millie declared.  “The famous family recipe, handed down from Grain to Grain for generations!”
 
Grass?  I could see a horse eating it, but me?  Well… come to think of it, I was kind of like a horse.  Through logic gifted by my early-morning brain, I concluded that my horse tongue would enjoy it.  I dipped down and sampled a small chunk.
 
Eh...  It tasted like grass and dough, although less like grass when I had tasted it at age four, and more like lettuce.  Still, grass in pancakes.   Spotting the maple syrup, I doused my meal in it.  The grass was successfully stifled, although I imagined that the Grain family thought my syrup usage a bit exorbitant.
 
“Do you have any coffee?” I asked, and then coughed.  My mind could’ve been so much clearer had I had a proper cup o’ joe.
 
“Coffee?  Come down with a sore throat?”  She laughed.  “Oh, I’m just teasin’, hon.  No, I don’t have coffee.  I don’t even know what that is!”
 
Coffee: successfully added to the list of things I missed.
 
After my sugar-dense meal, I assisted in cleaning the dishes.  I carried them with my mouth, however unsanitary.  As we worked, Millie informed me of the morning’s agenda.
 
“Now, Swissy, I’ll be takin’ Flour with me to the market.  We’ll be gone for… oh, ‘till noon, I’d say.  In the meantime, you can get better acquainted with Grain darlin’!  No need for workin’ on a Saturday!”
 
Whole Grain grimaced as she heard her name mentioned.  I had a feeling that not much “acquainting” would occur between us.
 
Once the dishes were washed, dried, and stored, Millie led us all out to the barn, delegating Wheat Flour to fetch a cart from the back.  It was a little chilly that day, with gray clouds covering most of the sky.
 
Whole Grain and I helped load the dingy wagon full of flour sacks in the barn.  Well, it was mostly her.  She already had a strategy for sack transportation:  She would hit the stack with her rear, and a bag from the top would fall.  She’d catch it on her back, and kick it towards the cart.  It seemed to land precisely where she wanted it to.
 
Seeing no other plausible way to move the flour without digits, I swung my hip at the stack.  Instead of one bag, though, several came tumbling down onto me.  She had made it look so easy, which made it more embarrassing when she had to dig me out.
 
Once the cart was adequately heaped, Wheat Flour hooked herself up to the harness.  She departed with her aunt, leaving the two of us behind.
 
Having thought of nothing else to do in the barn, I walked back to the farmhouse, Whole Grain in tow.  The living room seemed homely enough, so I situated myself upon a comfy-looking armchair.  She took a seat opposite me, and picked up a newspaper from one of the coffee tables.
 
What did I want to do...  Well, go home, for one thing.  A more practical start might be what I could do.  I could ask Whole Grain to take me somewhere…  Heck, maybe she knew where the nearest universe-hopping train station was.
 
“So, Whole Grain…”
 
“No.”
 
“Just, hear me out-“
 
“No!”
 
Wow.  She couldn’t have been any more stubborn.  I guessed I’d have better luck asking Aunt Millie later.  In the meantime, I surveyed the living room we were occupying, while petting the dog that was lying next to my chair.
 
Despite the antique furniture clashing with the some cheap rugs and tablecloths, the room was cozy.  There was a cabinet full of assorted china, with one shelf dedicated to multiple plaques that I was too far away from to read.  Pictures hung up on the wall of the family, posing with what I assumed to be more family members.  And, wouldn’t you know it, a little red cuckoo clock hung on the wall to my left.  That right there made it feel exactly like home.
 
I had a cuckoo clock, just like that one, hanging in my house.  My mother had insisted I left it up there.  Even though I had to remove the batteries after a while, I still kept it up there, just for her.
 
Speaking of which, that was the first clock I’d seen!  Why they weren’t more common here astounded me…
 
At around eleven o’clock, someone knocked on the front door.  Whole Grain got up to check it, motioning me to stay put.  Secretly, I hoped that it was a human rescue team that had come to take me back.  It was probably just the milkman, or something.
 
A couple seconds later, she returned with her annoyed face.  She held up her hoof, and I hopped up and offered my ear.  She whispered hoarsely, “You have to hide.  Upstairs.  Police are here.”
 
Thank you, police, for inconveniencing me yet again.
 
She walked back down the hall, somewhat loudly saying, “You can start with the basement; the cellar door’s around the back, I’ll show you…”  I heard the sound of hooves, and a door slamming.  That was my cue.
 
I hurriedly crawled upstairs and burst into the first room on my left.  It was either very well-kept or just bare; I expected knick-knacks and things to be on the furniture, but there was nothing, save a vase of carnations on the desk.  Just a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, a dresser…
 
A wardrobe?  Bingo.
 
When I opened it, I shoved all the clothes to one side and positioned myself in the other half.  The door closed, but only barely.  If only they had put handles on the inside of wardrobes, too…  Actually, that wouldn’t have made a difference.  I was fingerless anyway.
 
Fairly soon, I heard thumps coming up the stairs.  My throat went dry; if they found me, what would they do?  More jail time?  Oh, but they had taken my footprints…  I prayed that capital punishment was outlawed here.
 
The bedroom door opened, and I held my breath.  I wished I was somebody else – anybody else, really.  Just a pony, a normal pony…
 
Clop-clop, clop-clop, clop-clop.  My throat choked silently as the clop-clops approached my hideout.  The other side of the wardrobe groaned open.   Please please please don’t open my side…
 
Alas, my fears were realized, and I tumbled out at the feet of two familiar-looking policemen.  Recognizing their faces, I groaned, shut my eyes, and held my arms out in front of me.
 
One of them asked, “What were you doing in there, young lady?”
 
What do you th-
 
...“Young lady”?
 
I opened my eyes and spotted a full-length mirror across the room.  Staring back at me was Wheat Flour!  What…
 
“Is everything alright?” the other officer asked.
 
Whole Grain dashed next to me and gave me a side-hug.  “Oh, everything’s just fine!  My sister and I were playing a little game of hide and seek, that’s all.”
 
“Oh, um, yes…” said Wheat Flour as her mouth moved with mine.  “I’m a… really good hider… was in there for a while.”  I laughed nervously, and Whole Grain joined in.
 
The officers looked at each other, and the moustachioed one said, “Okay, then.  Care to show us the rest of the house?”
 
“Of course,” said Whole Grain.  She led the cops out and closed the door behind her.
 
Dumbfounded, I approached the mirror.  I raised my arm, and then bent it and swung it around.  I… had figured out how to transform into a pony!  Could I do it again…?  I closed my eyes and imagined I was my changeling self, and, abra cadabra, Swiss Cheese was back.  I tried it again with Whole Grain, and again with Aunt Millie.  I even had the glasses!  Boy, she had really bad eyesight, even with her glasses.
 
I changed back to my insect self.  Through the window, I could see the officers heading down the path.  I hid under the windowsill, suddenly self-aware that I was a changeling.  But, I didn’t have to be a changeling anymore, did I?  I could go into the city, find a random pony, and ask around for a portal from there!  I’d have to hope I’d never see that pony again, though…
 
Whole Grain barged in.  She sat next to the door and gestured towards the stairs.  “You have to go.  Now.”
 
“Fine.”  I didn’t need these people anymore anyway.  I went back down the stairs and out the front door, and Whole Grain followed to see me out.  She slammed the door behind me, so as to make clear that I wasn’t welcome back.
 

~ ~ ~

 
It was time to activate stealth mode.
 
On the outskirts of the city, I spotted a horse that looked like it might be a male: shorter hair, squarer face.  Plus, he was walking next to a female-looking horse, who had the same form as the grain family.  I studied him for a second, and took a mental snapshot: white skin, clean-cut red hair, amber eyes…  Then, concealed by a bush, I shut my eyes and thought about being him.  Sure enough, when I opened them, my arms were white, and could see red hair atop my head.  Man, these horses’ eyes were big!
 
I could then venture into the city with nothing to fear, theoretically.  However, I found it was a tad harder than I thought to keep up my disguise.  All it took was a thought and a blink to transform, which made it scary walking down the road.  I couldn’t think about it.  I just had to block it out of my mind.  I was normal; I had nothing to worry about.  I had to focus.
 
Focus on what?  I had no idea where I was going.  What should I be looking for...

Well, if I wanted to know anything about where I was, a map might’ve been a start.  Maybe I was on a magical island, and North America was just a magical, transatlantic flight away.  There was probably a government building, or a town hall, or an information kiosk of some sort in the city.
 
I came across the town square, empty this time.  Instead, most of the traffic seemed to originate from a marketplace.  The scent of assorted fresh pies drew me in; it must’ve been around lunchtime, and I hadn’t eaten yet.  I was so hungry, I could’ve eaten a… um…   I’d have to be more careful with my figures of speech.
 
It was less like a supermarket and more like a farmer’s market.  Vendors were everywhere, each with a different ware to sell.  There was a pie stand, a celery stand, a corn stand, an egg stand…  Tomatoes, cucumbers, hay, apples, cherries, candy, flour – oh, hey, flour!  Aunt Millie had her own stand.  I was tempted to say hi, but she probably wouldn’t have recognized me.
 
The market was… nice.  I liked it; it was much livelier than a grocery store.  Everyone was smiling, the prices seemed very reasonable (three tomatoes for two coins, however much that was, here…), someone was shouting, “Guoda!  Guoda!”…
 
I laughed.  It seemed like such a random thing to shout.  Curious, I searched for the owner of the voice among the crowd.  I spotted a brown horse with orange hair that, if I wasn’t mistaken, was looking at me.  I looked around to see if it was someone else he was talking to, but, when I looked at him again, he was waving at me and motioning me over.  Eh, might as well.  Might get free cheese from it.
 
The table in front of him advertised pictures of carrots.  He smiled wide.  “Hey, Gouda!  How’d you manage to get off work?”
 
Gouda?  That’s my name?  I checked my hip, and, lo and behold, there was a slice of cheese tattooed there.  Oh, come on.  What was it with cheese and I? I didn’t even like cheese!
 
Right, had to continue the conversation…  “Uh, It’s my lunch break.”
 
“Lunch break?”  He looked puzzled.  “I thought Squeaky Cheese never let you off work, even for lunch!”
 
“Oh, um…”  Think think think…  I started to get nervous.  Shoot!  Don’t blink, don’t blink…  “He sent me out… on an errand, today, to get… some milk.  You know, for cheese production?”
 
He shrugged.  “Sure, makes sense.”  Phew.  He bought it.  His eyes brightened, seemingly too excited to wait any longer.  “Say, did you hear?  Celery and I are engaged!”
 
“Oh, wow.  Well, congratulations!”
 
“Thank you.  We’re so excited!  The wedding’s tomorrow!”
 
Tomorrow?  If they just got engaged, then wow.  Weddings happened quickly here.
 
“Speaking of which, I was wondering: would you like to be one of my groomscolts?”
 
Oh, shoot.  Didn’t see that one coming.  Groom’s colts?  Probably like groomsmen.  I hesitated…
 
I didn’t have time for a wedding.  My number one goal was to find a way out of this place, back to the real world.  Heck, I might’ve been gone by tomorrow.  No, no setbacks!
 
But, I didn’t want to turn him down, even if I didn’t know him.  Weddings are a big deal.  The most recent one I’d been to was my aunt’s.  Already, this guy seemed just as nice as her, and I’d hate hurt his special day as much as I would’ve hated to ruin hers.  I could’ve stayed for one more day, showed up to the wedding, and then went home.  One more day wouldn’t be too much longer…
 
“So… can you make it?”
 
“Sure, I’ll be a grooms… colt for you.”
 
“Oh, thank you, Gouda!  You’ve always been a good friend.  The wedding is tomorrow at Sherhoof Park at noon, but I’ll need you to be there by eight for the recital and things.  See you there!”
 
“Oh yeah, sure, I’ll be there.  Have a good day!”
 
Noticing the patient customer behind me, I waved the carrot vendor goodbye and left.  I had a strange feeling that the more I did that, the deeper the hole I’d dig myself into.
 
What was I thinking?  This was a cartoon, wasn’t it?  It didn’t really matter what I did or what he thought or where I went.  This was all made up.  I didn’t have to stay here for anyone.  But, real or not, a small part of me would still have felt guilty if I didn’t show up.
 
Okay, that would be just one small addition to the plan.  I’d locate the wormhole and wait until tomorrow.  When the wedding was over, I’d jump through and be back home and not have to worry about where to sleep or attending cartoon weddings.
 
To the government place.  Asking others for directions, although nerve-racking at first, was much easier to do in pony form.  I inquired a couple of friendly residents as to where I might find “some government sort of building.”  They directed me to the town hall, a relatively tall building that looked more like a colorful stacked sandwich.  I was actually starting to like the architecture here; compared to boring, square, gray buildings of my world, it was refreshing.
 
Spoke too soon.  It might’ve looked pretty on the outside, but the inside was slightly dull.  It was like a regular office building, with grey walls and linoleum flooring.  To find something similar to my world was kind of… depressing.
 
I spotted a secretary horse at a desk, with a glowing feather jiggling away in front of her.  I walked up to her and said, “Excuse me.”
 
She looked up with tired and bored eyes, apparently inconvenienced by my presence.  “Yes?”
 
“Who may I speak to about interdimensional travel?”
 
She blinked.  “Come again?”
 
“Is there someone I can speak to about travelling to another dimension?”  It was a ridiculous question, both for my world and (probably) this world.  However, there was no other wording I could think of that would make me sound any less crazy.  “You know… like another universe, or something?”
 
She adjusted her glasses and continued her work.  She spoke as if reading off of a script.  “All queries concerning carriages, crossroads, travel, transit, and traffic may be directed to the office of the Vanhoover Chair of Transportation and Infrastructure.  Her office is number 412: down the hallway behind me, then up the staircase on your right.  Then, take a right, then another right at the end of that hallway, and, then, on the left…”
 
I wanted to write the instructions down, but was too polite to interrupt and ask for a pen and paper.  How would I have held the pen, anyway?  In my mouth?  Instead, I did my best to pay attention.
 
“...Then, on your left, you’ll see a water cooler.  Don’t confuse it with the water warmer.  Take a right there…”
 
How deep in the building was this office?
 
“..On your rightish left, then go up the staircase, and down the next staircase…”
 
Yeah, I was lost already.
 
“…And 412 will be on the right.  Have a nice day.”
 
“Thanks.”  Eventually, if I searched long enough, I'd find the Chair of Transportation and… something or other.
 
I wandered around, taking all sorts of staircases and hallways and rights and lefts...  I swear I had walked by that twisty potted plant four times.  It helped that the room numbers were visible.  Come to think of it, I was kind of glad that numbers and letters were all in English.  If they had a made-up pony language, I’d have been in so much trouble.  I’d never gotten past second-year French.  Tenses, man…
 
I found 412a.  And, next to it was 412b.  Darn it.  Which one was it…  Eeny, meeny, miney, moe…
 
I tapped my hand on 412b’s door, and was promptly invited in by a male voice.  I pushed open the door to a room full of paper.  Some on the wall, some on the floor, but most were piled on and falling off of the desk.  A brown horse was behind it, with slightly disheveled grey hair.  “Yes?”  He asked, sounding exasperated.  His arms were stretched across the desk, supporting his hunched shoulders.
 
“Um, I hope you’re not too busy…”