The following morning, Tuesday, found Cheerilee less distressed, even though she only knew every morning was liable to be her last. Yesterday had ended much better than it started, the foals (and Cheerilee herself) eventually calming down enough to return to the schoolhouse, and even get in a couple hours of learning. It wasn’t the joyous outpouring and sponging up of knowledge that the classroom usually saw for its daily inhabitants, but rather a somber, bittersweet affair. Cheerilee explained everything she could to them about her sickness, explained the possibility, however faint, that she might survive, but… her students took it with astounding bravery, listening intently even though the pain in their hearts was written all over their faces.
Several parents or siblings of her children had visited her that afternoon, before she had left the schoolhouse, claiming their filly or colt was making up ridiculous statements about how their teacher was sick and dying. All of them had the same reaction when she assured them their children were not spreading unjust rumors – tears, apologies, even an offer of companionship for her last few days. She declined them all, yesterday she had, at least. She had told her students to prepare for Tuesday as a regular class. I want today… to be as normal as possible. I want my last days to be as normal as possible.
Cheerilee arrived at the schoolhouse somewhat later than she normally did, but was surprised to see not one filly or colt outside on the playground or shuffling about by the door. She had glanced at the clock on the way out from her home today – the circular, floral-patterned, friendly device had claimed it was twelve minutes before eight. It took Cheerilee an average of seven minutes to get to the schoolhouse, and she figured she had been walking a little slower than normal, so it was likely very close to eight, when the first bell would ring, and when her students were supposed to go inside. Seconds before her hoof pressed open the schoolhouse doors, she heard the bell ring. It sounded harsh, angry, not like it sounded inside. Inside it sounded cheerful, signaling the beginning of a wonderful day of learning. Outside, however, it was the sound of fun ending, happiness fading. It hurt the teacher to know this is what it sounded like – how did it even sound like this? Can wood and glass change a noise that drastically?
Hearing the bell and seeing the lack of students, Cheerilee lowered her hoof from the door. There was no point in sitting alone in the classroom and wasting the day alone. She turned and lowered her head, a deep sigh escaping her as she made close observation of the dirt path before her. As she began to mope away, she heard a voice.
“She’s… leaving?”
Cheerilee’s ears perked up and her head swiveled around as it returned to a normal elevation, one eyebrow arching, her mouth forming a crooked, confused half-smile. She returned to the door and pushed it open, her mouth falling agape as she took in the sight before her.
There, before the first bell had even gone off, sat every student, already in their desks, hooves before them, eyes eager, ready to learn. A few students looked tired, some were clearly on the verge of tears, but her entire class was there. Cheerilee bit her lower lip to withhold it’s trembling, as tears began to form at the edges of her eyes.
“Good Morning, Miss Cheerilee!” Applebloom’s voice was unsteady. The little yellow filly’s bow sagged behind her head, the strangely emotive accessory betraying the smile she wore. “We thought that… if these are our last few days of school with you… we didn’t want to waste any time. So I talked to the other kids and we agreed to get here nice and early for you!” A toothy grin contrasted harshly with the sadness in her big, orange eyes.
“You… you did this…” Cheerilee looked around again, shocked that Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had agreed to any plan concocted by the mind of the unfortunately still blank-flanked Applebloom. I… I'll never see the CMC get their marks… A sudden wave of sorrow rolled through the teacher, and she found herself unable to hold back the tears anymore. She stood in the doorway, shaking, crying, tears staining the wood under her hooves and rolling down her cheeks and chin.
A rapid tromping of hooves and the feeling of a warm, soft object against her leg.
“Come on, Miss Cheerilee, it’s ok. Page one hundred fifty-seven, right?”
---
An hour of teaching later, Miss Cheerilee decided to let her students have a small break. Today had honestly been one of the best days of her career – students who normally hung back were active and engaged, asking questions, offering what they at least thought were helpful comments. Best of all, teaching came so naturally to her, it gave her joy, it let her forget, forget what was going to happen.
“Alright, my little ponies, I think we’ve been doing well this morning. Why don’t we stop for a quick snack?” Cheerilee smiled, before moving down underneath her desk to snag the small water bottle and apple she had been storing for a midmorning snack if she needed it. When she brought her head above her desk, however, she was confused.
Instead of small snacks or lunch boxes, her students seemed to have… gift boxes of sorts. Different shapes, sizes, but all wrapped, or bound, or sealed with ribbon. As she wracked her brain for an explanation, Sweetie Belle spoke up. Her voice trembled and cracked as she formed a few tentative sentences.
“I… I told my sister about… about what you said… and she told me we had to do something for you, and I told Applebloom that… and she told the rest of the class… so we all… we all got you a present, Miss Cheerilee. So… so you never forget. So… so we never forget,” She bent down and grabbed the box on her desk in her teeth and dismounted her chair. The proportionally large box threw off the little filly’s stride, and she stumbled and shuffled her way towards her teacher’s desk. Setting the package on the wooden construct, she mumbled a quick, “I hope you like it,” and hurried back to her desk, head low, trying and failing to hold back her sobbing. As she sat back down, Scootaloo moved over to her, wrapping her short orange forelegs around her friend, allowing the diminutive white unicorn a shoulder to cry on.
Cheerilee tore her eyes from the sight, instead focusing on the white package in front of her. It was a plain white box, wrapped in dark purple satin ribbons. A small, light blue, calligraphic “R” adorned the corner nearest herself. A gift box from Carousel Boutique? Surely she didn’t… of course, her sister owns the Boutique. It must just be what she used to wrap it.
Cheerilee was wrong.
Inside the box was a dress. A beautiful, slim, black dress. Cheerilee pulled it out of the box, admiring the work. She couldn’t find a seam anywhere, it seemed almost as if the dress was sewn out of one continuous piece of cloth. The garment flowed smoothly around itself, almost as though blown in some ethereal wind. Almost like the Princess’ manes… All things accounted for, it was an unfathomably beautiful dress, and had probably cost more than Cheerilee would have made in six months.
“Sweetie Belle, I-”
“P-promise me?” Sweetie Belle pulled her face away from Scootaloo for just a second, her mane a mess as tears streamed down her face and onto her friend. “Prom-mise me you’ll w-wear it. J-just once…”
“I… I promise, Sweetie Belle. I will. Thank you.”
One by one, her students placed gifts on her desk, waited for her to open them, and returned to their desks. From Applebloom, two jars of Zap-Apple Jam, two of only ten the Apple family had magically preserved for their private uses in the off-season. From Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, a pair of silver earrings with fire rubies nestled in them. From Dinky Hooves, a dozen muffins. The gifts ranged from self-made food to the finest of hoof-crafted goods, but every one of them meant the same thing to Cheerilee – her students loved her, and she would be sorely missed.
---
The day proceeded fairly normally after that, even with the somber tone that pervaded the atmosphere. When the final bell rang, each student gave Miss Cheerilee a hug before shuffling out the door. Cheerilee had told her students to take tomorrow off, since she wanted to visit her family. Left alone in the classroom, Cheerilee began to pack the gifts away in her saddlebags. Managing to fit the last of the items in, she gently placed the paper, the piece of paper that had delivered the news, on top, and closed the bag. As she began to leave the classroom, a hoof knocked on the door.
Seeing as she was headed there anyway, she opened it. On the other side, she found Twilight Sparkle.
“Oh! Miss Sparkle. I was actually just going to look for you. I have a favor to ask,” Cheerilee began.
“Does this have anything to do with why your students looked so glum? They always look so happy when they leave,” Twilight said, before realizing the implications. “I-I-I mean they always seem like they’ve been so happy… no, that’s not it… I mean…”
Cheerilee laughed. A rich, genuine laugh, the likes of which she hadn’t had since the news. Twilight was such a nice mare, and she was pretty cute when she got flustered. “Oh, Twilight dear, I know what you mean. It’s ok…” the laughter died, and Cheerilee trailed off, her voice dropping from jovial to quite serious. The tone change scared Twilight – it was unexpected and a complete one-eighty of the teacher’s apparent mood. “However, yes, my favor does have to do with their glumness, as you put it. I… I was wondering… if you would be willing to be a substitute teacher for me.”
“Oh, I’d love to! So that’s why they’re all sad, huh? That they’re going to have a substitute. Those kids really love you. When do you need me for?”
“That’s… that’s the thing, Miss Sparkle… I’m not entirely sure when, and I don’t know for how long…”
“Oh, an unplanned vacation? Living life on the edge, I see. Don’t worry, I can cover it for you, for a few days at least. How long do think you might be gone for?”
“Twilight, I… you know what… I’m through beating around the bush,” Cheerilee said, a note of anger flaring in her voice, one Twilight could tell was not directed at her. Cheerilee reached around and unbuttoned her saddlebag, grabbing the paper with her teeth, and gesturing towards the unicorn before her. Twilight arched an eyebrow and took the paper with her magic, she began to quickly scan down the page, her eyes slowing as she realized what it was she was reading. Her magic flickered and failed as she read that word, that red-printed word that marked the end of the teacher’s life.
“Cheerilee… I… I don’t know what to say, other than ‘I’m sorry,’ but I know that doesn’t come anywhere near making it better. I just… how long?”
“Three more days at the very best,” Cheerilee replied, feeling strangely liberated. “Though I… it does me no good to be sad anymore. It is inevitable and I spent the last three days in an utter funk, wasting the time I have left. I’m not going to waste anymore time, Miss Sparkle.”
“Good for you, Miss Cheerilee. I’ll… I’ll handle the school as long as is necessary. It’s the least I can do,” Twilight said, smiling weakly at the teacher’s reassurance.
“Thank you, Twilight. I think I’ll be going home now. No, I will be going home now.”