//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 
// Story: Sinister Lenses 
// by Osper 
//------------------------------//

	
Chapter 4


The next morning, no mention was made of the events of the previous night and many had forgotten them as merely an unfortunate fall in a dark hallway.
Trottingham was bright and cheerful as many growing metropolises were. It was twice as big as Ponyville but still retained that small town feel that made it welcoming to newcomers.
The ship looked ridiculous in the small port but it was the only town that was willing to be a travel hub and was in a straight line south from Canterlot.
Construction was prevalent in town and the docking area as they tried to expand it to house more ships and invite more trade. Pegasi flew through the air carrying wooden planks and I-beams, narrowly avoiding hitting some of the engineers that maintained the ships.
Finish hurried towards the town proper with Scratch behind.
“So, what’s your mom like?”
Finish led them around the narrow alleys as though she hadn’t been gone for years, weaving in and out of what was well traversed and what was not. 
“She’s a vunderful lady. You’ll luf her like everyvun else.”
Just once did they have to detour around a newly crafted fence that blocked entrance to an alley. The new path led them by a coffee shop where they stopped to get a little eye opener in the form of some of the strongest coffee Scratch had ever tasted.
“Ugh, what is in this!?”
She telepathically tore open several packages of sweetener and dumped them in the cup, vigorously stirring it with a knife.
Finish shook her head and chuckled, drinking it as is.
“I used to dreenk zis all de time. Like a kick in de flank, ya?”
Scratch tried drinking it again and stuck her tongue out. It couldn’t be saved.
“Your taste buds are dead.”
They paid and Finish thanked Java Bean, the same waiter slash owner that used to serve her when she was a teenager. He called out to them as they left,
“Say hi to your mom for me, kiddo.”
He stilled called her that even now although she was in her thirties and he in his sixties. It was comforting to know that some things never changed.
A couple of streets over the residential areas began and they arrived at a vacant lot, stopping just at the edge of the cobble street.
“Ve’re here.”
Finish announced. Scratch looked up and down the street then again at the lot in front of them.
“Where?”
Finish pointed up at a bird that perched on the edge of the blue sky and pushed the mare a little closer to the yard. Suddenly a house, painted to match it’s surroundings, popped out of the background.
“That is trippy.”
“Ya. Zat’s my mama. Treepy.”
Halfway up the walkway the door burst open and a doctor with his coat flapping behind him shot down the path, tripping over his own hooves and face faulting into the  path in front of the girls.
A can of paint flew from the open door and splashed over the stones and the doctor’s whole backside, coloring him a bright yellow that clashed violently with his purple coat. He leapt to his hooves and was off, disappearing down the sidewalk with the paint can stuck to his tail.
“<And keep your pokes and prods to your self!>”
An older mare charged from the house with a second paint can in her teeth. The resemblance to Photo Finish was uncanny with the same coat and mane color, only this older mare’s hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and the added years had put a few more wrinkles around her eyes.
She stopped short when she saw the girls, the paint can falling from her mouth and spilling purple into the yellow puddle.
“<Mama!>”
“<Darling!>”
She trod through the paint and hugged Photo Finish, swinging her around in a tight embrace that belied what her small frame ought to have been able to lift.
Setting her daughter down and standing back to look her over you could see the joy all over her face. Finish pointed down the street at the vanished doctor.
“<Mama, who was that?>”
Her mother snorted, throwing a disdainful look in the direction the stallion had run.
“<Some know-nothing punk colt playing doctor.>”
“<Mama, are you okay?>”
“<Perfectly fine dear. Just a little check up.>”
Scratch had been standing there trying to follow the conversation and watching the interesting hoof painted design appear on the walkway when Finish the elder took notice of her.
“<Dear is this a friend of yours?>”
Scratch held out her hoof and Faux took it, shaking it a couple of times as Photo introduced them.
“<Mama, this is Vinyl Scratch, a friend of mine from Canterlot.>”
Faux smiled at Scratch even as she asked her daughter in their shared language,
“<Is she a friend or a 'friend'? Which I'm perfectly fine with, I'm sure you could adopt some children.>”
Little air quotes accompanied the question as Photo turned bright red and Scratch, who knew enough of the language to realize she'd just been called a lesbian, laughed at the interesting shade her friend turned.
“<Actually, we're real just friend Mrs. Scratch.>”
Faux’s mouth dropped open and she pulled Scratch forward in a tight hug, much more excited to meet someone with enough interest in her culture to speak a broken version of her language.
“<It’s so, so good to hear someone learning the mother tongue! Aren’t you a peach!>”
The white unicorn squirmed a little bit in her grip, enough to free an arm to put around the other mare and give her a couple of pats on the back. Certainly there were major differences in mother and daughter, this overt display of affection being something you'd never see from Photo Finish.
“<Well, why don't you girls come inside? I'll make you some lunch.>”
They followed her in, sidestepping the now painted front lawn, and the first thing Scratch noticed was the lack of any kind of space to walk around in that wasn't already occupied by a painting or cans of paint. Luckily they didn't have to move any of the canvases as they stopped in the painting-free kitchen.
Finish senior rummaged for pots and piled new and unusual roughage Scratch had never seen before on the counter as the girls settled at the table and dropped their bags out of the way.
“<So, are you packed mama? We can leave after lunch.>”
The cooking mare skillfully tossed the salad around a bowl, mixing it thoroughly so no one side got too much of any one leaf. Then it was slicing tomatoes, cutting carrots, everything but responding to her daughter.
“<Mama? Did you->”
“<Yes dear. I...can't go.>”
Photo's mouth dropped open, turning to stare at her mother's back in what looked like more than shock and a lot like fear. Faux didn't bother to turn around to see how her daughter had taken the news.
“<Close your mouth dear. You'll attract flies.>”
Photo opened and closed her mouth several times as her voice had apparently all but disappeared. Finally she stammered out a couple of words that attempted to grasp the situation.
“<But...but mama, why?!>”
Faux carried the bowls to the table, the porcelain clinking as she set one down  in front of Scratch and the other in front of Photo. The look on her face was hard as she stared down at her daughter.
“<I just cant.>”
Scratch glanced from one to the other, leaving her food untouched. Some sort of situation seemed to be developing based on her friend's reaction to this news and sudden family arguments were not something she wanted to be in the middle of, no matter how hungry she was.
Faux glanced at Scratch then back at her daughter, not oblivious to the DJ's feelings.
Photo grit her teeth, suddenly angry at being left with the full burden of the trip. She tried to be polite, to hold back her anger. Yelling at her mother wasn't something she'd ever imagined herself doing and she really didn't think she'd be able to win that argument. She'd never won one before.
“<But mama, I can't go see papa alone. You know that.>”
Her mother turned back to the counter, equal parts controlled anger and politeness in her tense lips.
“<Photo, isn't it about time you got over that? It was twenty years ago and this time he's dead. What can he possibly do?>”
Photo slammed her hoof down on the table and sent the bowls rattling.
“<Mama, I can't see him alone! You were there when I came back to live with you! Don't you remember the nightmares? How I'd wake up crying and screaming!? I can't see him alone! I won't! You can't just push this off on me!>”
Scratch backed away from the table and pretended, and wished sorely, that she were invisible. She had enough fights with her own dad but seeing someone else do it made her incredibly uncomfortable, especially when she couldn't even follow their fast, loud words.
Faux whirled around and went nose to nose with her daughter, never having heard her daughter talk back to her in her life. Her chest heaved with deep breaths as her politeness faded.
“<I'm not pushing this off on you! I can't go! I can't physically->”
Faux's eyes flashed as she clamped her mouth shut, having said something she hadn't intended to be said. Photo knit her brow, suddenly confused.
“<Can't physically...? Mama...that doctor...? Did he say something...?>”
Her mother sat down, avoiding her daughter's eyes. She couldn't bear to look at her.
“<He...he did.>” 
Photo sat back, the anger draining from her quickly as concern took its place.
“<What did he say?>”
For a moment, she sat there quietly, not looking at anyone at the table. She began slowly, speaking quietly.
“<I don't remember what the technical name is, fatal insomnia or something, but I can't sleep.>”
“<So it's just insomnia?>”
She shook her head.
“<It's worse. Delusions, hallucinations, dementia. It's not so bad yet but I have been seeing things that aren't exactly...there. They're bringing in a specialist for me dear. I have to stay here and wait and that's why I threw those buckets at the doctor. I knew you'd be upset and I was mad at myself for doing this to you.>”
The kitchen was silent as Photo stared at the floor, circling a splotch of paint with her hoof. Shame filled her heart about what she'd been thinking and saying and yelling at her mother who had only wanted to spare her having to worry that she might lose another parent so soon.
“<Mama, I'm sorry.>”
She hugged her daughter again, tighter than before and Photo hugged her mother. It was an awkward situation for Scratch, not knowing just what to say or do although she was fairly certain the fight was over. All she managed was to inch back to the table.
Faux released her daughter, sniffing a bit and wiping away the tears that had collected in the corners of her eyes. A smile made it's way to her face and she laughed as her old self reappeared.
“<Well, we've only got today before you leave and I won't let you leave so soon after getting here. You're both staying for dinner and I'm pulling out all the stops! Spaetzle, Apfelkuchen, Roesti and Kirschkaltschale are all on the menu tonight. Am I leaving anything out dears?>”
That little house was a home again to Photo and an inviting place to Scratch that pushed the true purpose of their trip out of their minds. That day and night were filled with joy and laughter and embarrassing photos of young Photo Finish.