Wednesday, 18 April
I'm so happy I'm finally out of that damn city. Tonight Doc and Shorty figured out this freight was deadheading south. We hopped it when there was still enough light to see, but dark enough so we weren't seen at all. Now the three of us are sitting in this here boxcar, moving down the line. With nothing to do but wait, we all got to talking. Well, mostly Shorty and Doc talking. Dang, but they sure do love to talk. I think Shorty likes it even more than Doc does.
Shorty's full name is Short Line, and he's a young pony that's only been on the road a couple of years. His Ma died young, so he grew up on the trains with his Pa. Doc calls him a 'caboose kid' because of that, but I don't think Shorty likes it when he does. Shorty's Pa worked the railroad his whole life and expected his son to do the same. That line of work was too hard for Shorty, so two years ago he rode the train to Filly and walked away from it all.
Doc likes to mess with him a bit. The two of them get to talking about something and you can see that look in Doc's eye. He'll figure out a way to twist Shorty's thinking around if he can. Doc don't mean nothing by it. I think he does it to keep sharp. And maybe have a bit of fun.
I need to write something about Doc. Five winters ago we met at a lumber camp up north, where the work was real hard, but the money made it worth it. Doc's just one of these really nice ponies to be around, and I like him a lot. He makes you feel good all the time, with his jokes and encouragement and such. Jokes are always good, especially when the work is hard.
So here is one of his jokes. First, you got to know Doc's just his nickname and his real name is Meadowlark. He said his Ma wanted him to sing like a beautiful bird, but instead he sings like a toad. See, funny ain't it? He can't remember how he came to be called Doc, as he doesn't know a damn thing about medicine. I know he's had more schooling that most of us, but I'm pretty sure he's not a university type doctor neither. From the way he talks, he might have been married once, but he never comes out and says anything. I don't know if he just walked off on her or if he got a proper divorce.
Both of them are asleep now, and according to Doc's watch, I've got at least another hour before it's Shorty's turn to be lookout. We should be in Ponyville right before sun up if the engineer keeps up this pace. We'll hop off before we get to town so nopony sees us, and then head off and see if we can get us some jobs. It's going to be a busy day, so I hope I can settle down and get rested.
Thursday, 19 April
Hot damn I got lucky today. I guess we all did, but I feel the luckiest of all.
Our first luck was that the engineer made good time. The train started to slow down just as the sun came up, so it wasn't too hard to see when we jumped. We hopped off without any bumps or bruises. Jumping from a moving freight worries me. I've heard too many stories of fellers greasing the tracks by messing around freights in the dark.
We made ourselves as presentable as you can after spending a night in a boxcar. Then we needed to figure where we were headed. Doc got wind of this big orchard near Ponyville, but didn't know exactly where it was. Luck was with us again, as we bumped into somepony who was out early. He told us exactly how to get to the orchard outside of town, and since farm folk get going early, we didn't waste any time getting moving. We hustled there as fast as we could.
When we got to the big gate, Doc made me and Shorty sit down and wait. He figured we didn't want to make it look like we trying to take over the place. That seemed like a reasonable thing to me. Doc started out for the house, planning on introduced himself and wasn’t a second too soon.
The third bit of luck that morning was getting there at the right time. We'd arrived just as they'd finished breakfast and had come outside, getting ready to head out to work. Doc ended up talking to the whole family of them out on the porch. Then it seemed our luck had run out.
I think me and Shorty were both nervous when Doc trotted back shaking his head. He had good and bad news for us. They were looking for ponies to help out alright, but they were only looking for two. When he said that, I knew I was doomed right there. But, and this just shows you how decent he is, Doc reckoned that if somepony got sent walking, the other two should give him some bits to help out. Shorty had some harsh words about it, but ended up agreeing anyway. All three of us trotted up to the house to get checked out by the family.
This big red pony with a collar stepped off the porch to look us over. I figured Doc was in, because he was the one making the deal. It had to be between me and Shorty. The big feller looked all three of us up and down. Now, Shorty has to be half my age, so I knew what must be going on in that big pony's head. And he must have known I was thinking it too, because the only one he put questions to was me.
He asked if I could buck a tree. I told him that, honestly, I'd never tried. That damn Shorty went and laughed at me. But the big pony gave him a stare and Shorty shut up real fast. Then he asked if I could pull a loaded wagon, and I was happy to tell him I could.
Doc didn't waste a minute and vouched for me, saying how he'd worked with me and seen me pull wagons filled with timbers back at the logging camp. Of course, Doc conveniently forgot to mention that was five years ago!
After asking me those questions, the big pony turned around and hopped onto the porch. The family had a meeting. It didn't look like things were going too good. But I was surprised, because it looked like the big feller was losing the argument. There weren't no yelling or nothing, but he ended up walking off looking mighty unhappy. The old mare waved Doc back to the porch for a talk, because, you see, she had a new proposal.
He came back and explained they would take all three of us, but for five less bits a week each. I could have jumped for joy, but Shorty wasn't pleased at all. He came right out and said that one of us would be picking the pocket of the other two, and there was no doubt who he felt that was by the way he looked at me. Doc got him calmed down some and explained that some bits for all was better than none for one. Finally, Doc asked him how certain he was that he wasn't the one who'd be sent packing. Was he so certain he'd be willing to bet a seasons wages on it? I felt like laughing when he said that, but didn't, because Shorty seemed mad enough at me all ready.
Doc went back and we made the deal.
We had a decent supper tonight and now all three of us are back in the bunkhouse. Work starts tomorrow.