I hope this missive finds you and your report well. I suppose you are right. I too have a piece of the story to tell. I just hope that my words will not impart a bias on the rest of your report, for even though you are acting under my orders, my words bear no more truth than anypony else’s.
My first encounter with the human was not exactly an encounter, per se. I walked through his dreams at least two weeks before I ever met him in the flesh.
On that particular night, the ponies were having some rather trite and uninteresting dreams, stuff of teeth falling out, or being late to class. I was finding no dream distressing enough to warrant my observation, so I let my mind wander through the aether, from dream cloud to dream cloud.
I spotted a dream cloud that seemed troubled. If dream clouds resembled their atmospheric counterparts, this one would have been a roiling thunderhead, where all the others that night had been fluffy wisps of cotton. I glimpsed two sapien figures arguing heatedly.The upright, gangly figures alone were enough to give me pause. I had not seen such a creature in all my years.
Curiosity arrested me, and I melded into the dream. Or should I say memory? Sometimes the difference is less discrete than you might imagine.
Regardless, the scene was unfolding before me. I found myself in some cavernous building, with a vaulted ceiling, and a series of tall, narrow windows along the sides. Two rows of benches lined the walls, facing some sort of podium at the front end of the building. There were a few fasteners on the wall at regular intervals, as if the walls once held decorations. Curious. The building had a sense of familiarity to the dreamer, but it felt like the place was being threatened.
I approached the two upright figures. One of the humans was packing away a large wooden cross. He wore spectacles, and a long, white robe. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The other, had a light gray hooded shirt, and a look of pure resentment. That one was our Jeremiah Walker.
“I’m surprised you didn’t tie-dye dad’s pastor robes, you dirty hippie!” Walker said.
“Then I’d just be asking for the lot of you to throw me into a pit, and sell me into slavery.” The human in the white robes gave a wan smile. “I know you’re upset. But you have to understand, father only chose me because it was in everyone’s best interest."
“Explain exactly how stabbing me in the back is in my best interest, Abe.”
“It wasn’t like that. He didn’t think you were ready.”
“I wasn’t ready? He only decides this after he promised me I would lead this congregation?”
“A wise man isn’t afraid to change his mind, Jeremiah.” Abe unscrewed another cross from the wall. “He hadn’t realized I was a potential candidate until I returned from college.”
“You were always his favorite out of all of us. You always got to buy new clothes, while the rest of us got your hand me downs. Dad used up his money so you could sow your wild oats at some liberal arts school, while Danny and I had to go to community college. What happens next? You come running home to daddy, penniless and unemployed, begging for help. Finally, finally, when Dad throws me a bone, he yanks it back, and throws it in your lap. You didn’t work for the duty of pastor like I had. You didn’t earn it. Dad just handed it to you on a silver platter, just because you couldn’t get a job anywhere else with your useless degree!” Walker slammed his fist down on the podium, nearly knocking it over.
Abe stiffened, and turned away from the packing boxes to face his brother. “So what do you want me to do about it?” His voice was restrained, dispassionate, but one could tell that Walker had hit a nerve.
“Resign. Let me be the pastor for the congregation. You knew I wanted this since I was a kid. It’s only fair.”
“You think dad gave me the position just to spite you?” There was a hint of venom in Abe’s voice now. “He’s got reasons for choosing me. This little church in a little town isn’t going anywhere. He saw that I had big plans for this small community, while you were going to do the same old song and dance. He chose me because he wants to see this place progress.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the damn church.”
“If you want this church to be the true center of the community, we have to open it up for people of all faiths.”
“This is a god damn Christian church, serving a Christian community!”
“I’ll have you know Jerry, you’re using the lord’s name in vain, in his own house!”
“You’re making the lord’s house into some white washed warehouse!” He gestured to the empty walls.
“I reassure you, I’ll be retrofitting the church with more, non-denominational décor.”
“What you’re doing is ripping out the religious roots of this town.” He was hissing his words. “Communities are built on solidarity, not bleaching god out of his own house.”
“And what I’m trying to do is change the basis of that solidarity from Christian to simple spirituality. Just imagine, every Hindu, Jew, Christian, Catholic, Muslim and Sihk all making this place their home.”
“They have their own temples.” Walker scowled.
“So adamant on keeping one religion, when our own family was interfaith. And you’re even still wearing mother’s rosary. You’re an enigma to me, Jerry.”
Walker said nothing, but his hand went towards the necklace he was wearing, numbly fingering the beads.
Abe sighed, and continued on with a good deal more composure. “I’ve already spoken to Rabbi Bloomenthal and he’s agreed that we should consider forming a Unitarian Universalist meetinghouse. You’ve seen the world as it is today. There’s so much antagonism between religions. We should be a force of unification, and of peace. And right now, I need your help becoming that force. This isn’t the end of the world, Jerry. I know you wanted to be the leader of this community, but there’s no shame in playing a humbler part in managing a congregation, and I could use your support. Can't you imagine it, Jerry? We can create a place of worship, where people of all faiths gather and feel welcome, all under one roof.”
He waited for a response, and gave an exasperated sigh when Walker remained silent. “If you insist on being a pastor, I know of several Unitarian churches that would be more than happy to accept you as one of their pastors; and if my endeavors prove successful, and this place grows large, I may need you back here soon.”
Jerry shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt and turned away. “There isn’t another Christian church in the entire county,” he muttered bitterly.
“I don’t want to be your enemy here. I’m going to need your support, and our entire family’s help with this house of worship. And right now, you can start by helping me pack up all the crosses.” He reached out to Jerry’s shoulder in a gesture of compassion. But the hand was angrily swatted away by Walker. Abe’s expression of compassion turned into one of vitriol. “Did I ever mention that Dad’s other objection was your temper?”
Walker stared spitefully at his brother. “Say whatever you want, Abe. That doesn’t change the fact that you stole this church away from me, and now you’re going to run it into the ground just like you did with all your other stupid social justice bullshit programs.”
I saw fury spark in Abe’s eyes. I got an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Need I remind you that you are speaking to a holy man?” Abe's voice rose to a shout.
“You’re no man of god. You’re just a granola boy who switched out his baja shirt for pastor robes, that you stole right out my hands!”
That’s when Abe slapped him. Walker turned away from the blow, and gingerly felt the red mark on his cheek. They stood staring at each other for a moment.
A flicker of remorse softened Abe’s eyes. “Jerry, I—”
He was cut off by a swift punch to the stomach. Walker attempted a second punch, but Abe threw up a fore arm to block, and then grabbed Jerry, and threw him to the ground. Walker pulled Abe down with him, and began clawing at his face, sending Abe’s glasses tumbling.
I felt a sense of dread, as they grappled at one another. I shouldn’t have been concerned. Siblings fight all the time, even when they’re grown. The cosmic matriarch knows that I squabbled with my sister hundreds of times, but I could tell that behind each blow there was unchecked fury.
Walker threw a knee into Abe’s stomach. Abe didn’t crumple, but instead fell forward wringing Jerry by the throat. “Calm the hell down Jerry!”
I saw him fending off Abe with one hand, and fumbling with some device in his left. Suddenly, I saw it. A cruel black blade flicked out from the cherrywood handle, and Jerry’s thumb slid to lock the blade in place “Get the hell off me!” he grunted as loud as Abe’s grip on his neck would allow, as he plunged the knife into Abe’s stomach.
A dry lump formed in my throat. Abe suddenly stopped, and rolled over. He was gaping at the knife handle protruding from his body. A bloodstain quickly blossomed on the pristine white fabric, and dripped onto the floor. The human, looked at the knife in his belly, and then at Jerry, no words on his lips. Jerry looked wide eyed at his brother. He scrambled to his feet, and ran past me, and out of the building.
I dashed after him, and found myself running through a dark forest. I tried to keep him in sight, but he soon ran far ahead, and the dreamscape disintegrated all around me.
That memory, that tidbit of something else’s psyche, haunted me into the next day. Surely that was no pony’s dream. And the memory was… violent, to say the least. Don’t mistake me; I have witnessed many unsavory deeds in my nights of dream walking, some real and some imagined. I have seen far worse. Yet there was something about the brothers’ conflict, and the anger between them, that left a sour taste in my mouth. This was no squabbling of siblings. Walker had been harboring resentment for his brother for quite some time, and this argument had been the final slight. It made my heart ache to see siblings hurt each other so much. The next night, I found myself seeking out the human’s dream once more. I suppose I wanted to see if there was any way I could help.
I finally found the human in a dream scape modeled after Ponyville, in a square flanked by tudor houses and a series of carts that were packed so tightly together they completely blocked off the thoroughfare. Walker knocked on a door to a house, and a pony opened the door. Walker tried to explain that he was in need of some assistance, but the pony shook his head, and gestured to a bloody feather stuck on Walker’s shirt, before slamming the door shut.
He peeled the feather off of his shirt, but a ugly brown blood stain remained. Undeterred he, knocked on each door, only to hear the clicking of locks, and the rattle of window shutters being slammed shut as he walked by.
The human slumped over in defeat. As he was shaking his head, he eyed a pile of lumber at the center of the square. He shuffled over and picked up a plank, turning it over in his hands. He produced hammer and nail, and began assembling the beginnings of a house. I watched as he lifted plank after plank from a pile of lumber, gradually building a frame. Some ponies gawked and stared, and whispered among themselves that he didn’t belong in their town, but he simply sighed, and continued hammering away. There was an admirable stubbornness to his endeavor. If the town would give him no place to be, he would make a home. Eventually, a lone stallion came out of the crowd, and began helping him. Together they worked on the house, the frame of the building becoming more defined. Together they hammered away, helping one another set the frame in place.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The human managed to lay a sturdy beam across two of the wall frames. The stallion however, instead of nailing the beams together, fixed a rope to the highest crossbeam. The human looked apprehensively at his partner’s odd addition, but continued construction anyway.
As Walker pounded away with his hammer, the stallion began removing the connected boards around the house. Walker tried to put the boards back in place, but by the time Jerry had hammered one board back, the stallion had torn down ten more. On and on the stallion went, with the human frantically trying to repair the damage, until all that remained was scaffolding and a vertical beam supporting a cross piece. The roped dangled from the cross piece, and swung in the breeze. It ended in a noose.
The human tried to run away from the gallows, but his limbs wouldn't move fast enough; it was like he was moving through molasses. He begged the ponies to help him escape, to vouch for him, and above all else, to give him half a chance. But each pony he reached out turned their back to him, as though his life wasn’t worth the mud they scraped off their hooves. They were content to leave him to his executioner. I grit my teeth. A green mare in the crowd tried to rush to his aid, but she couldn’t break through the crowd of ponies. The human watched helplessly.
I watched from afar as the human’s heart pounded, reverberating throughout the entire dream scape. Then the ground shook. Twilight Sparkle, easily four times her size, marched through the crowd, her hoofsteps somehow in sync with the heartbeat. He was trapped, and for a moment, I thought his fear was going to cause him to lash out like he did with his brother. Twilight looked coldly at the human, before magicking him onto the platform. The stallion standing on the platform watched gleefully as the noose found its way around the human’s neck.
It disgusts me to think that Walker's dream reflects how Ponyville has treated him.
As for Walker’s current whereabouts, I am not entirely certain. Even if I knew, I would not feel at liberty to discuss such matters, at least not until things calm down in Ponyville.
I hope you will find this information helpful. I will be visiting Ponyville again within the fortnight, and we will continue our discussion in person.
Yours truly,
Princess Luna