//------------------------------// // Detective Work // Story: Siren Song // by TheDarkStarCzar //------------------------------// A bloody sunset cast a melancholy light over me. Times like these, the light fading away, speaks of nothing more than another day dead and buried and nothing but darkness forthcoming. Elongated shadows are cast and fade away against an ever darkening backdrop. Soon the light from inside the train car casts such a glare I have to open the window and nearly stick my head completely out to stay in that dark world that passes by. I try to ignore the cheerily painted passenger car's interior and it's cheerily painted ponies. I was enjoying my brooding. On my bad days I'm like that, I'm afraid. On some of my better ones too. This elicits some wondering stares and draws some condescending throat clearing that I'm meant to interpret as an objection to the breeze I'm letting in. I choose to overlook them. Were I to react I would do so with hostility and me passive aggressively ignoring them is, at least, passive. Outside that strange and dry land passes unobserved by anypony but me and I watch the tiny houses pass with their twinkling lights and families of ponies I'll never know or meet. A whole world of love, triumph and traumas contained in each one, existing wholly separate from myself, with no knowledge intermingled between us. We roll right through this strange, ever darkening land that I've never seen before, so far from home and I wonder at the loneliness and isolation of it all. As the stars come out I start to wax philosophic and am considering shutting the window and striking up a conversation with one of my fellow ponies, Cappy starts to bark. At first it was a clipped, uncertain half bark, but soon enough he's lost himself in the act and is going full roar as I try to clamp his muzzle shut with my hooves. "Ma'am," The conductor addresses me in irritation, "If you're having trouble with your dog might I suggest you take him to the baggage car?" "No...that's okay, he...dammit Cappy!" I struggled with him. Usually he's well mannered about such things but the train seems to have him spooked and I finally concede, much to the grimacing pleasure of the other passengers. I notice one of them rise and slam the window down before I'd even exited the car. I'm certain the other passengers smirked in haughty solidarity against me as he did it. Cappy finally shuts up when the baggage car door slides shut behind us and then only because he's found a new world to explore. First and foremost there's another dog, shut up in a crate and they yip greetings to each other happily. Cappy hopped around ludicrously and the crated dog spins several revolutions in his crate. That done Cappy takes to sniffing the trunks and bags. I almost yell at him when he begins to lift his leg, but being exiled from the civilized ponies has made me vindictive and I let him repeatedly urinate on the various stacks of luggage, just as he pleases. I grumpily spread the map out before me on someone's trunk and look it over. It looks like I'll be stuck on this grumbling, slow swaying train for three days yet and I'd only managed a few hours before being relegated to the company of parcels and a great lummox of a dog. "Good going, Cappy. Now I've got to sleep on the floor like a hobo." I groused, but was surprisingly unbothered by it and resigned to it. I was used to this sort of thing, I felt out of place out there anyway, like everypony was watching me with barely disguised contempt. I felt alone out there, too, but surrounded, as well, so it's just as well that it went this way. For all my bluster I got a crick in my neck and finally paid to have a compartment. That's a funny thing, too. Here they had an empty compartment with nopony in it and they sent me to the baggage car rather than bring it up without me asking about it. I mean really it's part of the train and they've got to haul it around anyway, empty or not, but they couldn't have just let me have it? Like it's better to have it just remain empty and unused than to let somepony, Celestia forbid, soak up it's meager luxury without having paid for it? At least here I could break into my stash without prying eyes upon me. Between that and a novel I gainked from one of the bags in the baggage car I passed the majority of the trip in sequestration. I was so caught up in reading, thinking of the past and seeing to Cappy's needs that it never even occurred to me until we passed Canterlot that I had no coherent plan of action once I did get to Ponyville. It was an abstract idea, actually arriving. I'd had in my head that I'd get there, find mom in a few minutes and confront her with a heartfelt, "Mom, What the buck?" That's as detailed a stratagem as I had come up with so far, but I'm a play it by ear kind of mare in most cases anyway. This was meant to the be the start of a whole new life or some such thing, so I figured some modicum of energy should be put into a plan. I meant to be in town a while and seeing as hotels disliked dogs I'd have to rent a house. I had enough spare bits to swing that for a little while, but I'd certainly have to find some semblance of a job. I had all manner of skills, so that shouldn't be too difficult. I had a hard time stomaching tedious work, though, and most work became tedious once you'd done it long enough to excel at it. Long ago I'd won many swimming competitions. I was the fastest mare in Equestria and with a few months of training I could be again. Swimming as much as I did kept me in top physical shape, I might even be able to hire out as a farmhand and get some extra exercise in until I could get my regimen together. Once I won a few competitions and a sponsor picked me up it'd be a tolerable living, even if all the traveling and training was a bit dull. As for locating Mom, I found that I was dancing around that issue again because I didn't know where to start. I couldn't be too obvious about it, if she knew I was in town she might even bolt since I was one of the few ponies who knew who she really was. Sherclop Holmes I am not and by the time the train pulled into the station all I had come up with was to check with City Hall. The first thing that struck me about Ponyville upon exiting the coach and stepping out onto the platform was just how clean it was. Ridiculously clean. All the buildings freshly painted in bright, sparkling colors and in perfect repair and all the lawns were evenly mowed. Even the dirt streets were free of washboarding, as if they'd been freshly raked on a weekly basis. They probably had been. The flowers and topiaries were all pristine, freshly barbered, not a sprig out of place. It gave off an aura of the whitest of white bread earth pony towns I had ever seen and that was before I saw the 'wacky' novelty shaped architecture as I walked through town. A gingerbread house, a jester's hat and a carousel being the most notable. They were so overdone I couldn't help but groan and grin a pained, unwelcome smile. These middle of the country earth pony towns were so corny and it was clear on the faces of each pony that passed that they loved it. Back on the East coast it's not like that. Ponies there are a bit more subdued, as is their architecture. That sort of overwrought frilly-ness would be seen as overindulgence and frowned upon. It seemed to me like a comparison between a stand up comic and a clown. Their purpose, after all, was the same, but one aimed towards a decidedly less sophisticated demographic. All in all Ponyville looked like a circus had exuberantly, but neatly, vomited. As I stood wondering in the technicolor brilliance Cappy was making his own discoveries, new frontiers of scent, and with a sneeze and a snort he took off to explore them. "Cappy! No! Get back here!" I yelled, but he'd built up momentum already and his nose was drawing him into a loping gait I couldn't match. In moments we were in a marketplace, him recklessly darting between stands and pony's legs and me hollering my frustrated lungs out. From the looks on the faces of the Ponyvillians I took it they were unused to the Eastern flair of my language. Which is to say that I was swearing maybe a bit more than was proper. It felt good, though it's effect on Cappy was non-existent as I chased him two whole circuits around the marketplace before my lungs insisted I stop. Desperate and embarrassed I became aware of all the eyes upon me and flushed. A mare behind an applecart took notice of my predicament and nudged her own brown and white dog. "Git 'im!" She said laconically to the dog and leaned back against the cart with a smirk. Her dog rocketed off and though I was worried about Cappy being attacked those fears proved to be unfounded. The bright eyed farm dog ran tightly around my own elephantine mongrel and shifted his path back on itself. In mere moments the smaller dog had herded the bigger one right back towards me and I was worried about being bowled over by my own black behemoth. Again the small dog had it handled and cut in front of Cappy at the last moment, forcing him to scrub off speed by squatting down onto his haunches. Before he'd even come to a stop I had his leash out of my saddle bag and levitated the end over to clip onto his collar's D-ring. I should have harshly chastised Cappy, but I knew from way back that he just didn't learn from that and if I did it would only make him harder to catch the next time. I just shook my head and sighed. I turned to thank my savior, an orange, blonde maned mare wearing a cowpony hat. She was praising her dog and I couldn't blame her. "That's some dog." I said and she nodded, "I can't get mine to even mind me most of the time, much less do anything useful. Thanks for that, by the way." She considered me for a moment, then held out her hoof to shake, "Shoot, wasn't any kinda trouble. Winona here loves 'ta herd animals, even if it's only a herd o' one. For her that was a real romp so don't worry 'bout it. Name's Applejack, by the way." "Sea Swirl." I replied and returned her hoofshake. "I'm gettin' from that accent that y'all ain't from around here." She said and I was instantly put on edge. I didn't really think I had an accent, but apparently I did. I'd meant to keep a low profile, prowl around like a shark until I got the lay of the land and some manner of lead. Thanks to Cappy I was drawing attention to myself already and putting myself at risk of laying out all my business for everypony to see when I just wanted to circle and observe. "Yeah, I just got into town." I replied, evading admitting where I was from. In small towns like this gossip got around fast and I couldn't risk my mother finding out I was here. I wanted that meeting to be made on my terms just in case, "Do you know of a hotel that will let me in with this monster?" I pointed a hoof at Cappy who was happily panting in blissful ignorance. Applejack considered it for a moment. "I cain't say I've ever had to make use of the lodgings around town, but I 'spect Peachy Sweet's boardin' house, down ta sixth and mane, would be your best bet. Bakes a mean pie, too, if you're partial to peach anyhow." Applejack rolled her eyes as if that were one of the sillier things she'd ever heard, "I prefer apple fritters myself, but ta each her own, I reckon. So what're y'all doin' in our fair city?" This is where I got shifty and evasive. I must admit I'm just not very good at it having preferred blunt honesty my whole life. I tried to tell a half truth that downplayed the urgency of my quest, "I'm just in town looking for somepony is all." "Maybe I can help. Who ya' lookin' fer in particular?" I should have seen that question coming, but I hadn't, and I couldn't formulate a convincing answer on the fly. "Um...Just a relative I lost track of a long time back who turned up in Ponyville a while back." I answered somewhat truthfully. If I was smart I would have said I was looking for Wave Crest or some other pony I knew so I could use their name without making one up. It would be more natural that way, but I didn't and though Applejack could clearly tell I was being dishonest she didn't press the issue but rather gave me a useful bit of information. "Well if'n yer lookin' for anypony 'round here you could do worse than to ask Pinkie Pie. She works at Sugarcube Corner, big gingerbread house in the middle of town," She told me and I mumbled that I'd noticed it earlier, "She knows everypony in town and she's a good friend ta have besides," She moved in close, speaking in a friendly, mock conspiratorial whisper, "Specially if'n ya got some kinda secret yer tryin' ta keep." "Secret? I, uh, no..." I stammered cleverly. She just shrugged, content to mind her own business, told me it had been a pleasure to meet me and turned her attention back to the applecart. I thanked her again and hastily trotted off to find this Pinkie Pie, hoping her to be the discrete and level headed mare that Applejack had implied her to be. I clipped Cappy's lead to the handle of a waterpump out front of the swaybacked sweet shop. Being a practical mare at heart, I stopped to consider the water shedding problems the faux icing on the roof was bound to cause and to wonder at the composition of the roof tiles themselves. In the past I've hired out as a house painter so dry rot issues are near and dear to my heart. I couldn't help but speculate that it must cost a considerable sum just to keep the cupcake styled cupola freshly painted, after all there's nothing enticing about a weathered, peeling giant cupcake. The whole facade was an adamant statement of form over function so I was surprised at the simplicity of the interior. Certainly it had many carpenter style flourishes and candy striped support posts but it was mostly marked by an open, uncluttered space of worn, but freshly painted, green floorboards. There was a single display case with neatly arrayed pastries and candies, a bell upon it indicating it to also be the front counter. A ceiling high shelf to the side held cakes and pies under domed glass and a punched tin pie safe beside it promised reinforcements should there be a run on sweets. Several nicely made folding tables were propped unobtrusively against the wall. A trio of round tables and the attending stools were all the dining room held, along with a teenage colt and filly sharing a milkshake with two straws. That level of endearing preciousness turned my stomach a bit. The counterpony hadn't shown up yet and I absolutely deplore 'ring bell for service' type arrangements; It always makes me feel guilty, having been a countermare myself for a time and I always took the bell to be accusatory. Every ring like a passive aggressive declaration that I'd been caught not attending to my job. I wouldn't ring it unless I had to and then I would tap it tentatively, apologetically. Honestly, though, analyzing the layout was also my method of putting off ringing the bell and interacting with strange ponies. I'm like that. No one would take me for a shy mare, quite the opposite in fact, but I was, so I stalled further by formalizing my observations with a hypothesis. The open floor, extra tables, lack of a counterpony and minimal lingering patrons hinted that this was not just a bakery or sweet shop but a hall to be rented out for parties, likely a catering outfit as well. If there were a steady flow of customers the interruptions would severely hinder the baking process, but the floorspace is more than required for the operation of a sweet shop. Thus, a party hall with catering close at hoof explained the fusion of utilitarianism and frivolity. I smiled proudly at my astute and useless observation, blinked smugly and whispered to myself, "Q.E.D." Admittedly I'd been seeking a proper place to say that for some time. When I opened my eyes I was muzzle to muzzle with a frizzy maned, pink all over mare. I could smell her breakfast, it had involved maple syrup. Her head abruptly cocked to the left, further startling me, "What's a kyueedee? Is it like a kumquat? Because I don't think I heard of that one, but I can check in back with Missus Cake and see if she's heard of it and maybe we can make one up special for you! It sounds delicious anyway. Phew, now you've got me wanting one!" "No, I'm just looking for..." I started, but was interrupted. The pink pony's eyes went wide and she quickly looked me up and down. "Hey! I've never seen you before!" She gasped. "No, I just got into..." Was all I got out before her next verbal ejaculation. "Well, welcome to Ponyville! You're going to love it here, this is the best town around and just you wait for your welcome to Ponyville party! I'll invite everypony and we'll have music and dancing and cake and..." I shook my head and said vehemently with a look of fear in my eyes, "No! No party! I'm just here looking for somepony." Her smile grew to encompass the majority of her face, "That's great, because as it happens I AM somepony and it's superrific great to meet you! Miss...?" "Sea Swirl." I stated and stuck out my hoof. She enthusiastically hugged me, ignoring my extended hoof, "But I'm looking for a specific somepony. Somepony named Pinkie Pie." She gasped, I cringed, "That's double super great-tastic because not only am I somepony but I'm Pinkie Pie too and now you've found me and I'll be your best friend and we'll have oodles of fun together, but first what do you say we try for a couple of those kewpies you were talking about?" "Kewpies?" Oh, Q.E.D. She's still talking about that. I should know to keep my mouth shut rather than say something inane trying to sound smart and make a foal of myself, but how could this outcome be foreseen? "Actually, Pinkie, a mare in the marketplace sent me, Applejack I think and told me that you knew everypony in town..." "Oh, yupperoo! I know everypony and everypony is my friend!" She blurted and did a joyful little twirl. "She also told me you could be trusted with a secret." I stated. Pinkie suddenly looked very serious. She crouched down and looked me in the eyes and nodded. "See, I'm looking for somepony..." She sprang back up to full height and gave me a mock suspicious glare, "Wait, wait, wait. I can keep a secret, I'll Pinkie promise to that, but I think we did this part already and it turned out that I was somepony so I don't know where you're headed with this because I'm the only Pinkie Pie left and you already found me." "Somepony else." I clarified and wished I'd been more tactful in my phrasing because she was immediately crestfallen. "You...you don't like me anymore?" She whimpered. "No no, it's not that," Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes and her lip pouted and quivered, Celestia, were we really doing this? She must be kidding, I thought. I'm pretty sure she was kidding, "Applejack told me that you might know where I could find somepony and that's why I was looking for you." "Oh. I guess that makes sense." She calmed right down, leapt right over calm again to painfully chipper as a smile erupted from her face in a frighteningly short manic cycle, "So which somepony were you looking for?" "Can you keep it a secret?" I asked, and I really did wonder. Nothing so far had led me to believe that anything put into her head would not simply be spewed forth from her mouth in an effluent wash at the earliest opportunity, but Applejack seemed to think I could trust her and for some reason I trusted Applejack right away.. Pinkie looked a little hurt, or maybe confused. "Of course I can keep it a secret. If you can't trust your best friend who can you trust?" She made a series of hoof motions, the only one I understood was the last one, a swipe across the mouth to indicate 'zipped lips.' I pointedly didn't ask what any of it meant. I also didn't see any advantage in correcting her 'best friend' assumption. Though it's less than a legally binding contract I figured I had no choice but to take a chance and trust her. I got out my newspaper clipping that had a picture of mom in the background of the murder scene. She was turned a quarter way towards the camera as neatly as if she'd posed for it. I folded the paper so that the chalk outline and the guards weren't visible and hoofed it to Pinkie. Pinkie studied it and skeptically appraised me. I looked around the room to make sure nopony else was around. The foals had left after Pinkie's first outburst so we were alone. I told her what little I knew, "She's an older mare, mid to late fifties, maybe going by the name Ocean Song. It'll be something related to water and music most likely if it's not that, it's not her real name anyway." Pinkie deflated and hoofed the paper back to me sadly. "I can't say." "You recognize her though, don't you?" I demanded, "C'mon Pinkie, why can't you tell me? Did you make a promise to her too?" "I can't say. I'm sorry." She repeated and turned away, starting slowly towards the saloon doors that must have led to the kitchen. At least now I knew she could keep a secret, but what could I say to convince her to help me? "Pinkie, please!" I pleaded, "Come on! I'll be your friend! I'll let you throw me that party, buck, I'll throw you a party! Just please tell me!" She paused for a moment, shook her head and continued on, slipping through the swinging doors. I yelled after her, "Pinkie, Celestia damn it! She's my mother! You've got to help me find her!" That was my desperation move, I'd pulled it out way too easily and I was not proud of myself. I sighed, turned to leave and was stopped by a pink muzzle poked back through the doorway. "Why keep it a secret?" "I want it to be a surprise, I guess." I lied and Pinkie quickly retracted her muzzle back behind the door, "Fine, fine, that's not it at all. She ran out on me when I was still a filly and I don't want her skipping out again before I get a chance to see her." A muzzle with the barest trace of a sad grin reemerged. "I can't say." She reiterated, "But go to the library, it's the giant tree just down the way. Ask Twilight Sparkle, she's just terrible at keeping secrets." I smiled, thanked her, and turned to leave again but she hesitantly called after me, "You might want to just describe the pony you're looking for, though. You'll probably get better results than with a picture of a crime scene, even if you do fold it over...and after? I'm holding you to that party."