//------------------------------// // In Our Mind // Story: When The Mare Comes Around // by nanashi_jones //------------------------------// AJ and Sweetie sounded like they were having a good time, so I thought I would give the pair some privacy. I hoped May would be inspired to do the same. It was strange. I didn’t have a body or eyes or ears or anything that I could really feel, yet I could tell that I was moving away from the waiting area and AJ. Like I was walking off to give her space. Even if I wasn’t walking per se. Whatever I did lead me to a forest, where I was actually walking. The forest quickly opened up on our houses, which were joined by a covered walkway. I sighed, creasing my brow slightly. AJ’s small red cottage was now joined to my big ol’ house, which wasn’t as big as it used to be. It looked scaled down, more simplified. By the same token, AJ’s cottage had grown, having grown a larger second story than before. Did she know this was happening? I’d only been here when we were sleeping, since I did most of the work outside. Was AJ being honest when she said she was as surprised as I was? Could she have- I knocked that line of thinking down. I knew AJ too well. She wouldn’t hide something like this from me. Plus, AJ wasn’t cerebral like I was. She was physical, an action pony. She preferred being active, helping, so she stayed mostly in the waiting area where we she could step in if need be. She’d only come here when we were sleeping. I was sure of it. I approached her cottage and caught sight of myself in the window. Or, the myself that I was now. My glasses were gone and I could clearly see my eyes sparkled emerald green a little when I turned my head. My hair was totally styled like Applejack’s mane now. It practically reached my butt in length and was a sandy-blond shade with little streaks of gold and chocolate mixed in. I was also ripped as hell. No, really. I thought I was fit before, but now I looked like I could punch a tree and make it give up its leaves. I felt like it too. Accepting the change in my new default, I turned to the door. I looked at the handle too long and sighed. I went inside her cottage. The interior of AJ’s cottage wasn’t Ikea levels of spartan, but it wasn’t heavy on adornment either. The couch looked sturdy and comfortable, the dinner table was polished- but they weren’t fancy. They were practical furnishings. From the hat rack by the door to the set-up of the kitchen, this was a place meant to be lived comfortably, not shown off. Except for one item. Well, really lots of items, but all of the same kind. The pictures were everywhere. Snapshots of her family and friends decorated the walls and sat on little end tables and on shelves. They showed ponies laughing and smiling. They showed ponies looking somber and thoughtful. And some even showed ponies looking startlingly honest, as if looking straight into the camera with their soul. I realized that these were AJ’s memories. She’d just put them in a form she could appreciate while in this dreamspace. I went about the cottage, looking at Twilight, at Rainbow, at Big Mac. Each picture became real to me as I passed it. It wasn’t just a photo of Twilight and a book, Twilight was actually hoofing me a book, Rainbow was actually challenging me to arm wrestling, Big Mac was actually going over the books with me, with a warm cup of cider at hoof. I had to stop, I felt so overwhelmed. It wasn’t like when AJ and I dreamed and shared a memory, or when I drove the bus and she brought something forward- it was like the memories were really happening and I was really there. I smelled the food from Granny cooking in the kitchen. I heard the whistle as Rainbow Dash called for us to get started on our race. I felt the straps of the dress Rarity had fitted me into. It was Applejack’s whole life! It was too much! I threw myself out of the cottage, gasping a little. Too much memory from another pony’s life. I had to remind myself I was Rachel Shelton. As I sorted myself out, I looked over to my house, joined by the walkway. Walking inside, I found my house had settled. No more Escher staircases, no more random rooms. It was just my house with white walls and comfy chairs and all that good stuff. It was spartan like AJ’s place. Unlike AJ’s place, there were no pictures. I went to the living room and found a wall of DVDs looming on one side. A dark green, plush couch faced an impressive TV. I plopped down. The remote was on the coffee table. I stared at the TV for a few seconds, shrugged, and picked up the remote. I hit “On.” I immediately saw Sweetie and she was saying, “...Winona’s coat was so shiny after!” “Well that may be,” AJ’s voice said, and I realized I had surround sound speakers in here. “But I don’t think Sam needs that particular cleaning method.” I hit mute, sitting back. Okay. I didn’t just need the waiting area to see what was going on outside. I looked at the remote. It reminded me of the complex one we had at home. Since we had flatscreen and cable, we’d gotten a remote to match all the needed buttoning. I still didn’t know what Rec Menu was. I was worried I’d blow up something in the International Space Station if I hit the wrong keys. Since I doubted this remote did anything more than let me control how I could see the brain stuff, I was a little more adventurous. I hit “SAP” and the volume kicked back on with AJ and Sweetie talking in stilted, high school Spanish. Laughing, I hit it again, bringing them back to English. I fiddle from there. I messed with the contrast, brightness. I changed the aspect ratio (behold! My life in WIDESCREEN HD!). I flipped the colors. Finally, I defaulted everything and looked the remote over again. “Input” looked like it could be entertaining. I hit it and a semitransparent screen overlay the activity of AJ and Sweetie. It had three boxes: Active, Applejack, Rachel. I clicked on Rachel. I ended up on what looked like the hold screen for a DVD menu. Except rather than a movie or a few episodes from a TV show, it was a hold screen for a DVD about my life. The background was a still of the me I used to be. Hunched over a laptop in jeans and t-shirt, little memories played around me in little screens. In a column next to me was “Play,” “Choose a Scene,” “Special Features.” More than a little amused, I went to “Choose a Scene.” Years of my life were lined up chronologically, going as far back as three years old. “Huh,” I said. I selected one at random. And suddenly I was sitting at the edge of the pond near my old high school. Max was in the pond, his hair glistening in the moonlight. My other friend, Darcy Wallace, was sitting next to me. We were passing a cigarette between us, watching Max swim like a crazy person. “You two are missing out!” he called. “Sure Max,” I said, taking a drag from the clove. I’d been smoking for about three months. It was part of my goth phase. By this time, I was already getting tired of how long it took me to do my make-up. Darcy was more committed. She went on to be a women’s studies major at NYU and the last time I saw a photo of her on Facebook, her roots were still black and she still wore thick mascara and eyeshadow with amazing, black dresses. Our clothes were part of the reason we were sitting on the bank while Max went for a midnight dip. “He’s cute,” Darcy said, low and secretive. “Eh,” I said with a shrug. I blew smoke up, failing to make a smoke ring. How the hell could everyone else blow a smoke ring but me? “Do you have dibs or anything?” Darcy asked, her eyes on Max’s back. He wasn’t on the track team, but he ran, and the moonlight and water conspired to make his back look better than it was. “All yours,” I said, trying for another smoke ring. “But if you break his heart, I promise I will break your face.” The smoke ring was just smoke and my throat was starting to hurt. I could only really smoke a clove and a half and I was nearing that half. “Noted,” Darcy said, flashing a toothy grin. I passed the cigarette back to her. I could feel I was on the end of this whole goth thing. Smoking sucked, the clothes were expensive, and the make-up took forever. I’d just go back to wearing black t-shirts and swapping Lovecraft novels with Darcy. She’d understand. She always said, “Goth isn’t a dress, it’s a lifestyle.” It was certainly a lifestyle I couldn’t hack. Looked like all I was good for was reading and marching band. And math. I’d aced my last pre-algebra class without batting an eye. I did a lot of stuff without batting an eye. I envied Max in the water. The evening was cool, but it looked like he was having fun. But my makeup would run and my hair would get wrecked and then I’d have to slog home in wet socks... Not worth the hassle. Nothing ever was. No one was surprised when I tried the goth thing. I wasn’t either. But everyone seemed to think I was going to stick with it. I was the only not surprised when I quit. That’s all I could really remember about high school: quitting things. I looked back to Max, sighing. Eventually he would get out of the water, shake a little on us because he thought it was funny and hide behind a bush as he took off his boxers and got back into his clothes. I’d give Darcy the full clove pack and tell her to keep it. And in two weeks, the only mark of my gothitude would have been a few nice tops I rotated through my daily wardrobe. And that would be my life: Not really getting in the water. Not really going to college. Not really giving a damn at my job. My whole life was going to be defined by not really’s and quitting. That is, until I woke up in a ditch as a pony. Then, I found out I could give a damn. I could think on my feet. I could face down a guy with a gun. I could make a trek to New York on foot, by cracky. I could make friends just like Max. I could do so much and I didn’t even realize it. Not until I’d met AJ. I hit stop and I was out of the memory. A blank gray screen stared back at me. I switched the input back to Applejack and found she was saying my name. “Sorry, what?” I said. Without warning, I was back in the waiting area. No body again, but I had plenty of awareness. Max is callin’. AJ said. Where were ya? You were mighty quiet there. “Sorry. I was lost in thought,” I replied. “Let me back in the saddle?” Hang on. And I had a real body again. It had hooves and a tail, but it was certainly more substantial than the body in my head. A little disoriented, I didn’t even realize I was already holding the phone to my ear. “Hello?” Max said. “You still there Applejack?” “Uh, no. AJ put me back in charge,” I said. “Whoa,” Max replied. “That is super freaky.” “What?” “You two sound totally different. In a freaky, not-quite-sisters way. I am never doubting the Batman voice change again.” “Thank you Captain Nerd. What’s up?” “Well, first you gotta tell me how brilliantly awesome I am.” Glancing down, I saw Sweetie looking up at me while she petted Sam. AJ confirmed the filly was still in charge, rather than her responsible teenager, May. I ensured my insults were on a PG level. “Max, I can’t charge this thing, so if you wanna waste time and battery power while we wait, be my guest.” “Sorry, sorry. I’m just- I have totally Sherlocked this. I’m a badass,” Max said. “What’re you talking about Max?” “I found the dirty P.I,” Max said. “I can get you to him.”