//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 - Bird Choir // Story: Hope and Changeling // by FrontSevens //------------------------------// I was bored.  And not tired.  Which was unusual for me.   Usually, it’d be one or the other.  When I was tired, I’d go to sleep.  When I was bored, I’d watch TV; video games didn’t really do it for me anymore.  Tonight, though, neither were options; I didn’t feel like sleeping, and the wheat family didn’t seem to own a TV.  There wasn’t much in the way of modern technology here.   The air was getting a little stuffy in the barn, and the ground wasn’t very comfortable.  So, I took up walking.  It had been a long time since I had gone for a walk.  I used to walk my dog, but saw no point in it after he died.  Walks were a way I’d relax, and sort of take a break from the world.  I think I felt like I needed to do that again, with what this world was throwing at me.   I didn’t bother to change; no one would see me, presumably.  The moon was a near sliver that night, and the roads were shaded by the trees, anyway.  It was just me, the forest, and the starry night sky.  That didn’t stop me, however, from checking behind me now and again.  That police pony was out to get me, I swear.   A lengthy walk from the farm, there was a nice little lake, at the edge of which I stopped.  The water shimmered slightly, but was nearly perfectly still.  The moon’s reflection glistened in the lake, with the stars’ reflections dancing around it.  A mountain range filled the space in between perfectly.  It was beautiful.   The world, at that moment, didn’t feel like a cartoon.  It felt more like a painting.  It was as if some artist had painted a beautiful night scene for me, all for free.  A real, moving, living painting.  Of course, it wasn’t real, as my head reminded me.  It still had to have been drawn by some animating artist, or something.  I wondered how such an amazing scene would’ve been used in a little girls’ cartoon.  Cartoons never seemed deep enough for those kinds of things.   Heck, what were ponies like Whole Grain doing in such a cartoon?  The only thing I could imagine any little girl seeing in her is a costume for Halloween.  What was there to like about her?  At the very least, her hair, maybe.  I could easily see her being a villain of some sort, though.  Come to think of it, she still reminded me of someone, but I just couldn’t put my finger on who…   Speaking of ponies, I spotted a pony sitting at another bank of the lake.  Slowly, I backed up to the trees, hoping he or she hadn’t seen me yet.  I turned to head back to the farm, but curiosity snagged me and pulled me in hard; I had to see who that was, even if I didn’t know them.   I crept along the edge of the forest, shielded by the trees and the black of night.  I couldn’t make out the pony’s face: not while I was behind it.  I found a bush about twenty feet away, and peeked through.   Their head was level with the lake.  They were sitting very still, not moving or twitching at all.  There wasn’t enough light for me to see much color; all I could perceive was a horse with long hair.  They were silent: I was hoping that it’d mutter something, or speak to the lake… that would have been interesting.  Instead, it remained there without uttering a word.   I was in a prone position, lying flat on my stomach.  I started to nod off, trying to catch myself before I missed anything.  My eyelids became heavy, though, and my chin slowly rested on my forearms…   My head jerked back up, and… the figure was gone.  I looked along the border of the lake, but there was no sign of anyone.  I got up, and meandered to the spot he/she had previously occupied.  Maybe, through magical magic, I could catch a whiff of what they were thinking.  I sat down and closed my eyes.   Nope.  All I could think about was how normal home was compared to here.  People were predictable.  Ponies were just difficult.  Being all mysterious, hating me for no reason…  Whoever made these characters up must have been trying to toy with me.   …And then, I had an idea.  It was crazy, sure, but I was willing to try anything…   “Excuse me?  Hello?!”  Oh, I guess I didn’t have to shout for the animators to hear me.  I lowered my voice.   “Look, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I’d really like to go home.  Beam me up, Scotty?”  I chuckled, hoping they had a sense of humor.  That chuckle wore off, though, as no beam appeared.   “In all seriousness, please send me back.  I don’t care if this is a prank, or an accident, or something, but I really don’t belong here.  I can’t live the rest of my life behind a television screen.  Please, help me get back.”   I waited there for about ten minutes, patiently waiting for some sort of response or sign.  However, the lake remained perfectly still and calm, and the only sound in the air was that of crickets.  Maybe the production team was off-duty or asleep.   Fatigue sinking in, I resolved to return back to the farm, and nab a little more sleep.  I also felt really hungry.  Like, a black hole had opened up in my stomach.  I tried to bite off some grass, but spat it out, after I realized it had taken mud with it.  I’d be back before breakfast.  Maybe, I’d even be allowed to join breakfast…   The sky had started to brighten by the time I had returned to the barn.  I was drowsy, and ready for just a little more sleep…  I huddled in a dry corner of the barn, shielded from the incoming morning light by the mill wheel.  An hour or so of rest would do me some good.   …   “…Swissy?  Swissy?”   I could hear Aunt Millie looking for me.  I stumbled to my feet and emerged from behind the millstone, rubbing my eyes.  “…Yes?  Right here.”   She looked a little distraught.  “Oh, mornin’ Swissy.  Wasn’t sure if you’d stayed the night.  I just wanted to let you know that we’ll be off to a weddin’ in half an hour’s time, and I left a stack o’ pancakes for you on the kitchen table, as well as the syrup.”   I walked up to her and gave her a one-armed hug.  She looked like she needed it.  “You’re a wonderful pony, Aunt Millie.  Thank you.”   She returned my hug.  “Oh, thank you, dearie.  Anytime, you hear?”  We backed away.  “And don’t you worry your pretty little head about Grain darlin’.  She’s just not used to havin’ strangers in the house.”   I smiled as she sauntered out of the barn.  Well, it was time to grab a bite of pancakes and hitch a-   Wait a second.  Wedding?   Whoops.   ~ ~ ~   Running is hard.  Yes, it’s worth repeating.   Theoretically, it’s just a faster version of walking.  But, in practice, it’s more difficult than it seems.   I remembered a blurb on the horse run cycle on the discovery channel, where, at one point, all the horse’s hooves were off of the ground.  That’s all I had to go on, though, and so I tried to pick up a gallop.  Fear of leaving the ground overtook me, so that never came to fruition.  I tried to speed up the walk cycle into a jog, but found myself exerting too much force righting my balance.  Then, I figured alternating the walk cycle between feet might work.  That seemed to work the best, although not the fastest.   I arrived at Sherhoof Park, panting heavily.  The venue, however, looked empty.  There was a wide white stage in the front, outlined by white lattices.  Floral baskets hung all around, with one big one behind where I’d imagine the minister would stand.  No chairs, though: just grass.   On a hunch, I walked around to the reverse of the venue, where all the people happened to be.  Several tents were set up, and various horses were walking around, talking to each other.  I spotted a small refreshments table and gravitated towards it.  Boy, was I starving…   “Gouda!  There you are!”   A jumpy purple pony intervened between my sustenance and I.  “You’re late!  What happened?  Where’s your tux?”   Was there a better, less tacky excuse than “I forgot”?  “I, uh, dropped it… in a vat of cheese.”   Please buy it, please buy it, I don’t want to go to jail…  “Um, it happens, I guess.  Good thing we have a tailor here.  Come with me.” Whew.   I followed him, past the well-dressed crowd, into a tent near the back.  Purple Dude led me onto a short pedestal set up in front of a large, elliptical mirror.  A tailor pony was there, too, with a pin cushion strapped to her arm.  Immediately, she pulled out a measuring tape and held it up to me, as Purple Dude spoke.   “Well, since you missed the recital, I’ll go over the ceremony for you…”   ~ ~ ~   I had to commend Purple Dude for his memory.   He thoroughly covered every single detail about the wedding, from the opening, to each individual entrance, to the vows.  He mentioned how the groom’s mother had tripped on her dress, and the tailor had to come out and shorten the hem.  He even mentioned how the bird choir’s song was too fast of a tempo for Celery Stalks’s taste, and had to be slowed down by two and a half beats per minute.  That guy had a picture perfect memory.   It was a little hard to follow, though.  He talked at a mile a minute, and I lost focus quite frequently, partly because I was ravenously hungry.  Also, the tailor was poking holes in my skin.  I wouldn’t have worried about it much, had my arms not been whole.   My tuxedo suitable enough for the tailor, I strode out of the tent and towards the food.  Just a small bite of food would be all I’d need…   The first plate to come into sight was the deviled egg platter.  Now, I didn’t like deviled eggs all that much.  But, at that point, I was willing to settle for anything.  They could’ve been plastic decorations, for all I cared.  Plastic tasted better than nothing.   “Wedding’s starting soon,” a black, tuxedoed horse with green wavy hair informed me.  “C’mon, let’s go.”   He put an arm over my back, and led me away from the food.  I grumbled along with my stomach.   ~ ~ ~   The bird choir sounded fantastic.  I’m all for organs, but, if I was ever to get married, I’d ask to have a bird choir perform.  I’m serious.   A large audience was present at the wedding.  The wheat family was there, of course.  I found them near the back.  Whole Grain had at least put on a neutral face for the wedding.  I did a double take, not used to seeing her so cheerful.   So far, the ceremony was going well.  The weather was perfect; the sky was clear of clouds, the sun having already dried up all of the mud.   Some flower girls strode – make that skipped – up the aisle.  They were followed by whom I assumed to be the bride.  Not many other attendees of the wedding were wearing extravagant white dresses, with a veil over their face.   She took her place next to her fiancé, both smiling as much as ever.  To see two people – er, ponies –looking at each other like they did, as happy as they were…  It made me feel warm inside.  My hunger seemed to fade away.  I felt… so happy for them.  So happy that the day was as special as it was for them.  I was almost as happy as I was for my aunt.  The bird choir agreed; they could hardly stand still, and were chirping affectionately.   How bad would it have been if I had turned into a change… ling…   Oh…  Oh no…  That would be terrible…   I shifted and looked around nervously.  I hadn’t realized how much danger I was in.  My whole act could’ve been over with one slip of the mind.  I steadied myself.   It reminded me of “the game.”  If one thinks about “the game,” one “loses” “the game.”  It was just… annoying.  I was bad at those kinds of mind games, anyway: when I tried to not think about something, but only ended up thinking about, merely by trying not to.  It was a lose-lose situation.   And, thus, my predicament.  Since thoughts were hard to control, I just had to keep my eyes open.   Celery Stalks looked at me worriedly.  I tried to relax my gaze without relaxing my eyelids too much.  If I blinked, I’d have been done for.  Hopefully, they’d say their “I do’s,” kiss, wave, and walk out in the next sixty seconds…   I felt like I was leaking.  Not only was I beading with sweat, but my eyes began to tear up.  I heard Purple Dude whisper to me, “Hey, Gouda, you alright?”   “Yeah,” I whispered back.  “Just, uh… getting a little emotional.”   Not blinking.  Not blinking.  The minister was still talking.  My eyes were feeling very dry, and my vision was blurring in places.  I had to keep it up, just a little longer…   Wow, the minister was taking his time that day.  Things would have worked out so much better if Purple Dude had led the ceremony.   Eventually, I had to give in.  I’d only allow one blink, though, and a really quick one.  So I did.  It felt quite good.  Looking down at my arms, I realized I hadn’t changed.  One more couldn’t hurt…   So, I kept blinking, but, with every blink, my eyes couldn’t achieve full relief.  Maybe one long blink would fix it…  I shut my eyes and moved my pupils around, making sure to hydrate every square centimeter of my eyeballs.  Ah… That felt much, much better.   I opened them, still feeling happy for the couple, but a little nervous.  I think they were saying the vows at that point.  Then, Celery Stalks glanced at me, and her gaze didn’t return to her fiancé.  Instead, her mouth dropped open as she looked at me.  Uh oh…   I looked down, and my arms were no longer white.  Darn it.  I froze, realizing that the minister had fallen silent.  Everyone was looking at me.  This situation was too familiar…   “Please…” I said, as I held out my hand in plea.  “…Don’t scream.”   To my relief, they didn’t.  They sat there, stunned in silence.   Then, almost all at once, they began to yell.  Not in panic, but in anger.  They yelled at me to leave, to never return again.  Some words jumped out from the clamour: “beast, “shame,” “monster,” and some names I’d rather not repeat.  The bridesmaids looked afraid and uncomfortable (the bride especially), and the groomsme- colts began to shove me away.   “NOOOOOOOOO!”   One scream in particular stood out from the crowd.  The yelling died down, and all eyes were on the little purple flower girl in the front, whom I suddenly recognized.  Plus one to the inobservance tally.   “Please…” she blubbered, “…don’t take him away again!  He won’t hurt nobody…”  She latched herself onto my arm, sobbing all over it.  The world fell silent: no movement; no wind; not even a stray chirp from the bird choir.  Just Taff.   I didn’t feel comfortable causing a scene like that, especially in the middle of a wedding.  However, I couldn’t bear to break her heart twice.  I sat down and hugged her with my free arm.  “Shhh…” I tried to console her.  “It’s okay.  They’re not going to hurt me.”   I rubbed my hand across her back as she sobbed into me.  Green Curls stared at me, shocked.  I put my hand up to my lips as she started to calm down.  She choked out, “I just… I don’t want you to… to leave again.”   I’d never been especially good with kids, but this really must’ve meant the world to her.  I sighed, and held her by the shoulders, looking her right in the eyes.  “I have to go away, soon.  Very far away.  I can’t stay here forever,” I tried to say as gently as possible.   She sniffed and looked up at me.  “Will… will I ever see you again, mister?”   How much harder could she make it?  Those big, round, pink eyes glistened with cuteness.  It hurt too much to tell the truth, but I couldn’t lie… “…Maybe.  I can’t promise anything, but… if I can, I will.”   She wiped her nose and nodded.  Someone, I assume her mother, ran out and encouraged her to come with her, giving me a greatly confused look.  I smiled weakly, and turned to exit the stage.  To my surprise, the yelling didn’t continue.  Instead, the silence remained over the crowd.  Every single eye in the park seemed to watch me leave.   They led me around the back, to where I had my tux fitted.  Purple Dude stuck a tape measure through my arm and around a tent pole, tying a firm – and impressive – knot.  Watching him tie it made me wince. Even though they only had two fat digits, ponies seemed to be very adept with them.     “We’ll hold you here until the police arrive,” he bluntly informed me.   “I’m sorry for-”   “You have a lot to be sorry about,” he snapped.   He exited the tent, leaving me with Green Curls silently sitting across from me.  Might as well give someone an apology.  I leaned my head back against the tent canvas and asked, “Well, are you willing to accept-”   “Shhh…” he hushed.  He walked over to the tent’s door flap and peeked his head out.  Then, he turned to the pole and started to undo the knot with his unicorn horn.   A striking memory flashed into my mind.  I whispered, “Who are you today, Taff’s father?”   He paused and looked at me, confused.  “No…  Today, I’m helping you escape.”   The sound of feet halted his progress, and he redid the knot using his magical aura.  He tiptoed back to his post, just as the tent flap was opened by… Wheat Flour.   She stopped when she saw me, and looked to my restraint.  She looked sad, with a hint of what looked something like apology.  The rest of her family joined her.   Whole Grain was the first to speak.  Actually, before she spoke, she slapped me in the face.  “How dare you ruin a wedding like that!  Do you have any sense of decency?”   “I wasn’t trying to ruin it!” I retorted.  “It’s more complicated than that, I can explain…”   “I don’t have to hear an explanation.  I know why you were there.  This is no less than you deserve,” she told me bluntly.  Gee, thanks.   “The police are coming, and they’re just going to throw me in jail-”   “-Yes, and the problem with that is…?”   “I have to go to Canterlot.  I need to go to Canterlot.”   She advanced, right up to my face.  “Why?  Why do you have to go so bad?”   “I’d explain, but…”  I waved an arm in the air.  “Heck, you probably already know why.”   “I don’t.  Please, enlighten me.  Enlighten all of us.”   I paused, unsure of what to tell them.  No, I couldn’t tell them; they wouldn’t believe me.  I hung my head in defeat.  “I can’t.  You… have to trust me.”   Just as Whole Grain had readied her retort, the police arrived.  Officer Mustache took one look at me, and lowered his sunglasses, as if he needed a better look.  “You again?  Well, you know the drill…”   I tilted my head toward the tape, and he untied me promptly.  He pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and I stuck out my arms.  Then, surprisingly, Wheat Flour spoke up.  “Sir, he’s with us.”