//------------------------------// // The Ballad of Ira Hayes // Story: The Man in Black // by Eagle //------------------------------// “What’s this place called again?” Johnny asked Octavia from his seat on the train. “Appleoosa,” she replied. “I know, I meant greater area in general.” “The Mild West.” “Well, there’s another interestin’ similarity,” he said. “What would that be?” “Back in my world we had a big desert area called the Wild West, because of the dangerous conditions.” “That is interesting; why was it so dangerous?” “Well, there were always fights between cowboys and Indians, for one thing.” Octavia put her hoof on her chin and thought deeply for a minute. “I wonder if your Indians are similar to our Buffalo; the settlers here have fought with them a good deal before." “I don’t believe I’ve heard that story yet.” “To get to the main reason, the pony settlers there began planting apple trees on their ancient stampeding grounds.” “And they haven’t gotten along since, right?” “No, not really; Twilight and her friends were able to help them reach a compromise, but there are still plenty of die-hard ponies in Appleoosa that hold a grudge against them.” “Yep, that sounds like us,” Johnny said. “Y’know, this place ain’t quite as bright n’ cheery as it seems at first; it’s a lot like my world.” “There’s no such thing as a utopia, Mr. Cash,” Octavia responded. “We do what we can.” “But I’m sure even more could be done.” “Yes…perhaps,” she sighed. “Though I will admit, the west in general is rather harsh; lawlessness, bigotry, and not to mention our worst prison is out in the sweltering place.” “Really?” Johnny asked, intrigued. “Yes, stuck in the middle of the desert so any escapees would have a difficult time getting through it,” Octavia explained. “Everything that comes and goes from it gets transported on a single rail line.” “Sound’s awful; you think you can book me there?” Octavia’s jaw dropped at this. “Surely, you must be joking; only ponies committed for the worst crimes go there!” “I’ll explain it to ya’ if you get me a chance to play there,” he said. “Now back to the Buffalo, will I be meeting any of them?” “You will probably run into some in town, but I wouldn’t count on performing for them,” Octavia explained. “The place you are playing at doesn’t allow them.” “They don’t?” Johnny asked, surprised. “I’m afraid not. I personally disagree with it, but like I said, there are still plenty of angry settlers there, and they are in positions of high power.” “I guess I’ll just have to do somethin’ about that then, huh?” “What do you mean, Mr. Cash?” “You’ll see, don’t worry; I just can’t stand injustice is all.” “Please don’t get into any trouble.” “What do you mean you won’t perform!?” the manager yelled. Just a minute before going on stage and this human has the nerve to demand something as outrageous as this. “It’s simple; you let Buffalo come in to watch, or I take my music elsewhere.” The earth pony glared angrily at the musician. “You think I need you? You’d better take that back before I kick you out!” His threat was quickly de-fused as the audience started chanting Johnny’s name as a pony announced his name. “Don’t need me, huh?” “Ugh, I don’t know what you see in those-” “And no derogatory stuff,” John added. “They’re gonna get treated like all the others out there.” The light-brown pony turned dark red with anger; but with the confused crowd still chanting his name, he didn’t have much of a choice. “Fine!” he snarled. “Just…get out there and play! Hurry up, before the crowd starts walking out!” “And remember that I’m up on a stage, I can see everythin’,” Johnny added. “I can tell if you’re keepin’ ‘em out; if I notice that you are, I’m walkin’ then and there.” Johnny didn’t wait to listen to his raging; he still had a show to give. The crowd gave a hearty cheer as their entertainer finally appeared. Johnny took a seat on a stool under a light and scooted up to the microphone. “Sorry ‘bout that, ya’ll; had a bit of a disagreement, but it’s all sorted out now,” he said. “If ya’ll don’t mind I’m gonna start with somethin’ a little slower while we let my new friends in.” As Johnny finished up, he saw that the manager had indeed let the Buffalo in. The crowd was a little surprised at this, perhaps because they knew how much the manager of the place hated them; and there certainly were a lot of them tonight. Apparently, Johnny’s reputation was moving out faster and farther, as enough had come to fill up the other half of the club. The crowd still gave a series of claps as he finished. “I can see the looks on yer faces, and I know what ya’ll are thinkin’,” he said. “Well, I requested that they be let in.” A shot of surprise spread through the crowd, with many whispered conversations popping up. “The reason is that, believe it or not, I know a similar group back in my world, and I was always disgusted by how mis-treated they were,” he explained. “Different species or not, it’s the same basic problem; I couldn't put up with it back home, and I won't let it run wild here, either.” There were a few claps from the crowd, but it was silent for the most part. Johnny guessed by the looks on the faces of those he could see that it was from surprise; maybe between how awful Ira’s life was and how they could compare it to their own world. Either way, all eyes were on Johnny on stage, or the building fell into a deathly quiet. “So…yea,” Johnny said. “It wasn’t all that great back home, either. But, I worked to help them, and I just want to help here, too. There’s plenty that can still be done.” Slowly, the audience began clapping in agreement. Maybe this was why he was here; to help with the same problems he had faced on his world. It would make sense, as he had the experience to do it. Or, maybe it was just for the music. He decided to save it until the show was done. “Thanks,” Cash said. “Welp, let’s keep the show rollin’.”