Keckla awoke and, despite her nightmares, felt like the greatest pony alive. She looked in the mirror of the public bathroom in the pub and her face seemed to shine among the dirty looking cubicles behind her. She took a deep breath, left the bathroom and approached the tired, grumpy Mr Purgley with a cheery attitude that she hadn’t even known she was capable of. Mr Purgly looked at the mare, her energetic body poised for action, her eyes glinting with the thrill of life Her cheesy smile excited and genuine. He was not ready for her at this time in the morning.
“Right love, put that horn to good use today, all right?”
“Yes, Sir.” She chirped.
“Call me Purgley, everyone does.”
“Yes, Mr Purgley.”
“No, just Purgley, love. Anyway, opening time.“
Mr Purgley trotted over to the door, and clenched a card with his teeth that Keckla could see said: “open” in bright green text. He flipped it, revealing a side that said: “Closed” in bright red text.
“We don’t get too many customers in the mornings, but we make some breakfast dishes anyway, just in case.” He explained. Just then, a mare poked her head through the kitchen doorway. Her orange head had a golden glow to it, and her sea blue eyes seemed to flow around their sockets. This was Agatha, the cook at the Ponyville pub and Inn. She spoke: “Purgley, we’re running short of eggs. I was just wondering if-“ It was then that she first caught sight of Keckla “Oh. So this is your new waitress, huh.” She emerged through the door, revealing a large puffy apple-red mane and tail, along with a frying pan cutie mark. Mr Purgley glanced back and forth between the two ponies, wondering wether or not to get involved. Agatha went on:
“The one who took my daughter’s job-” Purgley immediately cut in:
“Agatha, your daughter was rude and disrespectful to me. If she was like that with the customers, we’d closed within the week!”
“Oh, and I suppose that this mare’s much better? I’ve worked for you for ten long years, Purgley. I know my daughter’s got a heart of gold.” Purgley and Keckla both fought the temptation to scoff. Agatha continued: ”How do we know this isn’t some total kiss-up, some horrible, vindictive, manipulative”
“No.” Keckla interrupted before she realized it. She was looking at the ground. Her voice was low and, for some reason, vengeful.
“Excuse me?”
“Keckla-“ Mr Purgley put his hoof on Keckla’s back and she turned to him, leaving the trail of thoughts she had unconsciously been travelling down. Her eyes sparkled with tears. “To your room. Now.” He said. The young mare sadly trotted to the stairs.
“And you,” he turned to Agatha, “Go to the market and get some eggs. I’ll pay you the cost when you get back.” Agatha grumbled as she left the pub, but Purgley couldn’t blame her. He turned to the stairs and ascended them, not knowing why he wanted to console a pony whom he barely knew.
The inn room that Keckla lived in was basic, but satisfactory. It had a single, old bed in the corner, a single, old wardrobe on the left, and a single drawer beside the bed. It too, was old. The floorboards and walls were grey, as was the door.
Keckla was sobbing in her room, her face in her bed. She had undoubtedly lost her job, considering the tone Mr Purgley had used when he spoke to her. What was she to do now? Live on the streets? Go back to Saddale? No. Never. She’d rather die. Mr Purgley stood in the doorway and looked down on her. He sighed, and knelt down beside her.
“Now why the heck are you crying, eh?” Keckla stopped sobbing, listening intently to her boss. “Sobbing isn’t majorly advised in work hours, love.” Keckla gave a sad chuckle and a loud sniff.
“So are you going to fire me?”
“Course not. “ Keckla turned to Purgley, who was smiling back at her. Keckla once again surprised Mr Purgley by wrapping her hooves around him. He patted her back anxiously, and said
“On one condition” Keckla withdrew from the hug, and looked at Purgley, worried
“No more soppy hugs.” Keckla chuckled again, and looked away. Purgley got up. “I’ll give ya a couple of minutes to pull yourself together again, ‘K?” With that, he left the room, happy in the confidence that the girl would be alright.