//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 
// Story: Nothing to Say 
// by DuncanR 
//------------------------------//

Pinkie Pie lay on the floor of the farmhouse's living room, scribbling in a coloring book with a bubblegum pink crayon that was worn down nearly to the nub. There was a pile of other crayons scattered about the floor around her, most of them clean and unused.
        "Pinkie?"
        She looked up as her mother walked in from the kitchen, drying off a plate.
        "I'm over here, ma."
        "Have you done all your homework for tonight?"
        Pinkie turned back to her coloring book. "Yup. All done."
        "Very good then. Can you be a dear and help me with a chore? Your sister is busy with her own homework."
        "Sure," she said. "Whatcha need?"
        "Thank you, dear. Just go fetch the axe from the shed and meet me in the back yard. It won't take long."
        Pinkie Pie froze in place. Her eyes stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.
        "What?"
        "I need to cut some firewood for the tinderbox. Your father would normally do it himself, but he's out to town for the morning."
        Pinkie Pie shrieked as loud as she could. Her mother flinched in shock and dropped the dish, which shattered on the floor. Pinkie shot to her feet and sprinted for the stairwell. She screamed all the while. Her voice was loud and ragged, like a fire alarm or a police siren.
        "Heaven above, child! What's the matter!?"
        Her mother rushed towards her, but Pinkie only screamed louder. "Get away from meeeeee!! I dun wanna!!"
        Pinkie scrambled up the stairs and ran headlong into Inky Pie, just as she came around the corner.
        "Pinkie!?"
        Pinkie hugged her big sister's leg and pressed her face against her shoulder, sobbing wildly. "Gedder away from meee!! I dun wanna go in the b-b-back yard!!"
        Their mother stood at the bottom of the stairs, wide eyed with alarm. "Inky, dear? Is she all right?"
        "What happened?" Inky said, "what did you do to her?"
        She wrung her hooves together. "Nothing! I asked her for help with the firewood, that's all! I've no idea what—"
        Inky Pie waved at her. "I think I know what's going on. Give us a few minutes."
        Inky Pie dragged her little sister into her room, set her on the bed, and hugged her while she cried. The sobbing slowly tapered off. Inky held a hankey against her nose and wiped it off.
        "Soree," Pinkie whimpered.
        Inky set the hankey aside. "What's gotten into you? I've never seen you this scared before."
        Pinkie Pie looked away. "Granny Pie told me a secret... she told me how to not be scared all the time. She said if you're scared, you should laugh. Laughter makes it disappear."
        "And it worked, right? You used to be such a scaredy-cat. Now you can look under your bed and open your closet all by yourself, even at night."
        "Yeah, because those ghosties weren't really real!"
        "So?"
        Pinkie flopped back on the bed. "Missus Bramble is real. I can't just laugh at her."
        Inkie watched her for awhile.
        "So, Missus Bramble is real, right?"
        "Yuh huh."
        "What about that scary story? Was that real?"
        Pinkie Pie stared at the ceiling. "I dunno."
        Inky Pie pursed her lips. "I think... you should learn more about her. Once you know what's real and what's not, then you'll know what to do."
        




        Pinkie Pie tiptoed down the basement stairs and peered into the masonry workshop. There were tables loaded with chunks of rock, and the walls were covered with racks of chisels, files and hammers. Faint dust filled the air, and shafts of light flowed in from the three tiny windows along the upper wall. Pinkie Pie climbed to the bottom of the stairs and looked at the very back of the workshop. She saw her father standing at a bench, facing away.
        "Daddy?"
        His ear twitched. He set down a pair of calipers and turned to look at her. "Yes child?"
        "Can I um, talk?" She pawed at the floor."It's about grown-ups."
        He arched an eyebrow. "Sounds important. Come over here, child. Just promise not to touch anything."
        "Promise."
        She walked across the workshop, taking special care not to knock anything over. Her father lifted her up and sat her on the edge of the workbench. There were a bunch of big rocks laid out on squares of linen cloths.
        "Sooooo..." Pinkie Pie swung her feet. "Can Old Mare Bramble hurt me?"
        "She certainly could, if she wished to do so. She's quite strong, and she has enough true grit for six ponies half her age."
        Pinkie Pie frowned.
        "Does she wanna hurt me?"
        "Missus Bramble wouldn't hurt a fly," he said. He picked up the calipers and began measuring one of the rocks. "You have my word on that. She's a grump and a recluse, but she's a peaceable sort."
        "Oh."
        "Mm."
        Pinkie Pie stared at the floor for a moment.
        "Daddy?"
        "Mm?"
        "Why's Missus Bramble alone all the time?"
        "Nopony knows. S'pose you'd have to ask her."
        "The why doesn't anypony else ask her? Don't they wanna know what's wrong? Don't they care?"
        Her father frowned at her. "What a cruel thing to say, child. Of course we care. She's our neighbor. Ponies ask her all the time."
        "Then what does she say?"
        "She says it's none of our business. And she tells us to get off her land and leave her alone."
        "But she must be so lonely! How can we help her if she won't even tell us what's wrong?"
        Her father pulled up a chair and sat across from her. He gave her a long, sad look.
        "Daddy?"
        "It's a fact of life, Pinkie, but you just can't help them's that don't want to be helped. Missus Bramble was living here since before you were born, and she's always been this way. Ponies have tried to talk to her... time and time again, they try. But no matter what they say, she doesn't care to hear it."
        Pinkie sniffled and hugged her knees.
        "What is it, child?"
        "There's gotta be somethin' I can say. Somethin' to make her smile."
        He watched her for awhile. Eventually, he picked her up and set her on his lap.
        "Some ponies won't listen no matter what you say. But always remember, child... actions speak louder than words." He set her on the floor and turned back to the workbench. "Go on upstairs. Give it some thought for awhile.  I'm sure that when the time comes, you'll know just what to do."





        The next day, Pinkie Pie walked down the main road and stopped next to the front gate to Bramble Bush Estates. She stared up at the wooden sign above, faded and colorless.
        She walked towards the gate. She stopped at the last moment and turned back, then spent a minute or two just walking in tiny little circles. She sat on the dirt road and let out a sigh.
        Eventually, she looked back over her shoulder and stared at the gate.
        Okay. You can do this.
        She stood up and marched to the gate again. She stopped in front of it and glowered intensely for a moment.
        "HA!!" she said, and pointed at the gate. "HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!"
        The gate offered no response. Pinkie Pie lifted her nose up as she walked under it, smiling triumphantly. She went up the same path as before, with the same wall of brambles to either side, and eventually came to the mansion's front yard.
        She started towards the front porch, but stopped when she noticed motion off by the warehouse to her left. She walked along the edge of the yard and saw half a dozen spades floating in the air, all aglow with a pale white light. Missus Bramble stepped out of the warehouse, dressed in the same elaborate black dress with the veiled hat. She struggled with the door for a moment, and the spades crowded around her. She waved at them in mild annoyance. They obediently backed off a bit.
        Pinkie Pie shuffled her hooves a bit, then politely coughed. Missus Bramble's head snapped towards her.
        Pinkie stared up at her... at the black silhouette of her head, hidden behind the veil. She took a breath and opened her mouth, but nothing came out: even just the word 'hello' had caught in her throat.
        Missus Bramble uttered a faint little 'hmph' and turned away, walking towards the mansion with a heavy, awkward limp.
        Well this is off to a great start.
        Pinkie followed Missus Bramble to the porch and watched as she stacked the spades against the wall,next to all the other tools. Pinkie looked up at her, about to speak, but the old mare walked past her without a thought. She limped to a rocking chair, sat down, and stared out at the fields.
        Pinkie Pie watched her for awhile. Listened to the creaking of the chair. The faint whistle of cool, misty wind.
        You'll know what to do, child. When the time comes, you'll know what to do.
        Pinkie Pie walked around the rocking chair and stood in front of her. The old mare ignored her entirely. Pinkie climbed up onto the chair, struggling for a moment to reach the armrest. Missus Bramble rolled her eyes and let out a little sigh, but stubbornly refused eye contact.
        Pinkie Pie settled in her lap, leaned against her, and closed her eyes. She wondered if she could listen to her heartbeat, but heard nothing through the rough, starched cloth of her dress. She was still as stone, all stiff and awkward, except for her breath.
        After a few minutes of silence, Pinkie Pie felt Missus Bramble move: she'd twitched sharply. Pinkie looked up and saw a bit of her expression behind the veil: her face was clenched up, like she was struggling not to cough or sneeze. Pinkie snuggled against her and hugged her around the neck.
        Missus Bramble began to cry. It sounded more like she was coughing: it was loud and sudden, like something was choking her from the inside. It was an ugly sound, ragged and dry... the sort of voice you'd expect to hear from a donkey or a buzzard. Her whole body shook, but Pinkie Pie held on tight. The crying gradually became wetter, less like an animal's and more like a person's. Missus bramble reached down and hugged Pinkie back: it made her seem huge and strong, as if she could hold the whole world together through even the very worst of times. She didn't know why, but it reminded Pinkie of her own mother.
        At last, her crying quieted to a sniffle. The trembling stopped. Pinkie Pie looked up at her. Missus Bramble pulled her veil aside and wiped her eyes. It was the first time Pinkie had even seen her: her coat was dark grey with black dapples, and her mane was very short and bristly. Pinkie Pie stared into her blue eyes. They were still quite wet with tears, and brighter than she'd expected.
        "She would've been about your age," she muttered.
        "Who?"
        Missus Bramble glanced over her shoulder, at the front door of the mansion.
        "Would you care for some lemon cakes?"
        Pinkie Pie smiled, and her eyes brightened up.





        Pinkie Pie's mother rushed about the kitchen, pausing occasionally to fuss over a large cookpot on the stove. "Inky Pie? Have you finished setting out the dishes?"
        A muffled groan came from the next room.
        "Inky, I know you can hear me. Finish setting out the dishes."
        "Why can't Pinkie Pie do it?"
        "Why...? You mean you haven't even started yet!?"
        "I'm busy!"
        She snatched up a spice bottle and shook it into the pot three times."I swear, Inky, if you don't set up the table this instant you won't eat a single bite of dinner! Not one!"
        "I'm not hungry."
        Granny Pie came in with two glass trays full of cheese and mushroom casserole, which she set on the counter. "Here you go, dear. They just need ten minutes in the oven to brown the top."
        She nodded. "Perfect. See if you can—" a ringing from the front door cut her off. "Inky? Go get the front door."
        Granny nodded. "I'll go fetch some fresh milk from the icebox."
        "No no, you go have a seat. You've helped plenty enough as it is."
        "Are you sure, dear?"
        "Really, it's quite all right." She turned to the door and shouted "Inky! Answer the door!"
        "Can't," Inky called back,"busy setting the table."
        She clenched her jaw. "Pinkie? Can you answer the door for me?"
        "Aaaaalmost done my homework!"
        Granny took the casserole dishes and carried them to the oven. "You go on. I'll take care of the kitchen."
        Missus Pie stormed out of the kitchen, glaring at Inky Pie as she passed by, and went to the front door. "I told you before, you can just leave the mail on the—" She gasped when she saw the tall, elderly mare standing on the front porch. She was dressed in a mournful black dress complete with a corset and a lace veil.
        She swallowed a slight lump in her throat."Ah... may I help you, ma'am?"
        The mare pulled aside her veil. "Is this the residence of one Pinkie Pie? I should like to have a word with her."
        "Oh, goodness me... Whatever she's done, I'm very sorry about it. She's been having troubles lately."
        "Oh, she's not in any trouble. None that I know of, at least."
        "Ah... yes. Then, why... may I ask...?"
        "She visited me yesterday, and asked if there were any chores I needed help with."
        "She asked that?"
        "Among other things, yes."
        "Of course. Just a moment."
        She went back inside and saw Pinkie Pie setting out forks and knives on the dinner table.
        "Pinkie?"
        "I did my homework. Sorry it took so long."
        "No, it's not that... there's somepony at the door to see you."
        Pinkie looked up, wide eyed. She set aside the cutlery and went to the front door. "Oh! Good afternoon, Missus Bramble!"
        "Good afternoon, Pinkie. Do you still have any interest in doing chores for me?"
        "Yes, Missus."
        "Very good. I've got a large crop of royal roses, but I can only gather blossoms from the exposed vines on top. Since you seem to be nimble enough to climb underneath them, I was hoping you could search for any I've missed."
        Pinkie Pie nodded. "Yes, ma'am!"
        "I'll pay you three bits for each bouquet of twelve roses you bring me. Only full bouquets will do. If you pick eleven roses, you get nothing. Understand?"
        "Yes, ma'am."
        "Very good. You can visit no earlier than four and no later than six. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your schoolwork or your family."
        Pinkie Pie looked up at her mother. "Is that okay?"
        "Well... yes, of course."
        Missus Bramble nodded. "Very good then, Pinkie. Visit me tomorrow and I can instruct you in the proper use of pruning shears. And good day to you, Missus Pie."
        Pinkie's mother watched as the elderly mare walked back down the road. She turned to look at Pinkie Pie, but she was gone. She went back inside and saw her older daughter, Inky Pie, staring out the window.
        "Where's your sister?"
        "Who died?" Inkie Pie said, still staring.
        "Don't you even joke!"
        Inky looked at her, alarmed. "I wasn't! Was there a funeral or something? Did we miss it?"
        Missus Pie rushed back to the dining room and saw Pinkie Pie setting out cups. "Pinkie, dear?"
        Pinkie looked up. "Mm?"
        Her mother worked her jaw back and forth for a moment. "Did you... visit with Missus Bramble?"
        "Yeah."
        "You mean you spoke to her? What did you say, exactly?"
        Pinkie Pie shrugged. "Nuthin'. I just listened."
        Missus Pie paused for a moment. "When you were listening to her... what did Missus Bramble say to you?"
        Pinkie Pie shrugged again: a very slight, casual gesture. "Nothin'."
        "She didn't say anything? At all?"
        "She didn't have to."
        She and Pinkie Pie watched each other for a moment. Eventually, Pinkie Pie set out the last of the cups and then walked to the kitchen. "Hey, granny? Can I help with anything?"
        "Well, there's a whole pot of boiled potatoes sitting right there. Think you can find the masher for me?"
        "Mashed taters? Awright! Squishy squish!"
        Missus Pie sat at the table and listened quietly as Pinkie Pie and granny worked in the kitchen together, laughing and giggling.