//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: The Wall Store // Story: The Pony Who Lived Upstairs // by Ringcaat //------------------------------// IN THE DAYS that followed, I still spent my work shifts thinking of the pony upstairs, but now my thoughts were scrambled. On Tuesday evening, I found a big yellow envelope in my mailbox, wedged up against the sides. I pried it out and looked it over on my way upstairs. “For Pepper,” it said. There were colored stripes all up and down in it marker—no, in watercolors! And on the bottom, five cutie marks. Peach's, together with everyone's from Turtlewood Coffee, and one I hadn't seen before—an eye sprouting arrows both left and right. My heart was already stirring when I opened the envelope. There were a letter and a drawing inside, and when I upended it, a clover fell into my hand. Followed by an extra clover leaf. Once I'd made it to my apartment, I read the letter. It had five sections, each clearly written by a different pony. First was Peach's smooth hornwriting, in electric blue ink: “Pepper! We missed you. I invited the gang from the coffee shop over and we were going to drop in and surprise you, but you weren't there. So we made this for you instead! Do you know about the stationery shop on Fulton? Kellydell took me there and we all got some things we needed. I hope you enjoy the drawing! You remember Kellydell, Seaswell and George, don't you? The mare you didn't meet is called Second Sight. She's working in a lab for the New York Institute of Technology. They have her experimenting with remote detection. I hope you get to meet her soon! Is it okay if I come and see you Thursday? —Peach Spark” This was accompanied by a couple of glittery star-shaped stickers. Then, in lavender gel and sharp, excited lettering: “Hope work isn't being too hard on you! We missed you this time but I'm sure we'll meet again. Just to make sure, we've given you some extra luck! My amazing wife is always finding four-leafed clovers, and she found one in the little walking park near your building. It's enclosed! Sorry about one of the leaves falling off—you'll just have to take our word that it was a lucky clover to begin with! —Sincerely, Seaswell” In luscious green gel and a tight script: “It was nice meeting you the other day, Pepper! Our regrets that you weren't in this time. We're getting to know Peach Spark, a pleasure we owe to you. She seems to think there are secrets hidden in the human world that explain pony nature. I told her that sounds fairly out-there, but she's stalwart in her beliefs and I must respect that. Please tell her, though, that we're just neighbors with our own cultures and customs. Each of our civilizations is very much worth learning about, but the sort of arcane connections she's looking for simply aren't real. I expect she'll listen to you. —Kellydell” Then in soft pencil, with careful lettering: “Hello, Mr. Pfeffer. I can only hope circumstance allows me to make a friend of you before my time on Earth is through. If I were as skilled as I someday hope to be, I would be able to reach out and determine whether you're having a nice afternoon. As it is, I can only wish you the best. For our part, we've been having a fine time about the town. —A friend you haven't yet met, Second Sight.” Creepy. And in maroon ink, in an otherwise small script with huge loops: “Regards, Sergeant! I like your city. It's got an old feel, but not the sort of vibration that makes you think things are falling apart behind you as you walk through. I look forward to visiting the north end. I even hear you've got a neighborhood called Frog Hollow! Can't miss a place with a name like that. Thanks for treating our pretty Peach Spark right, by the by. I think she could use more time with you, if you're open to it. I intend to do my best by her, myself. Cheers! —George” And then the drawing, done on high quality paper with oil pastels. It was the five of them outside the apartment building, smiling in the sun while cars drove by. I could tell it was a collaboration. It looked like their cutie marks had each been etched out with something sharp, revealing another color of pigment underneath. Clever. The one that must have been Second Sight was a yellow-brown unicorn mare with purple hair. I stared at the group for awhile, lounging in my beanbag chair. They'd drawn big tall toothy smiles on themselves. It looked like they'd known each other for a lifetime. Ponies. Were they something, or what? They'd hoped to find me at home, and when they didn't, they'd apparently centered their whole afternoon around making a nice way to say hello to me anyway. I set the letter aside and set the clover and its extra leaf floating in a little dish of water. I relaxed into my beanbag chair but didn't turn on the TV. Instead, I just I sat there thinking. Did I deserve to have friends like this? ^~^ ^~^ ^~^ ^~^ ^~^ Wednesday morning, I left a note in Peach's box: “Thanks for the great letter and drawing! I love it. It's good to know people care. I work tomorrow until 6:30, but I'd be happy to see you afterward. —Pepper” No word Wednesday night, but that was okay. When calling a unicorn, I told myself, you take your time. As I finished up my shift on Thursday, though, I wondered whether I should pick something up on the way home to share with her. And was there anything I could bring to help pass the time? I'd found the colorful envelope adorably childish, but I didn't think bringing over a cherished children's book would send quite the right message. But did that matter? Was message important at all, compared to sharing the things that matter to you with your friends? That's the sort of thing I was thinking as I put away my uniform, clocked out, and walked back through the garden center to head for home. What I did not expect was to see the very pony of my thoughts standing there by the azalea rack behind the registers, scanning the crowd, her peach coat contrasting with the dark windows behind her. Yet there she was! By the time I'd processed her presence, she'd spotted me and was cantering toward me with a huge smile. “Pepper!” She reared up and I froze. Her hooves landed slowly on my chest. It was meant to be a hug, I realized a little too late, so I hugged her. But it was awkward. She dropped down and looked up at me. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “I wanted to see your garden store. It's amazing!” I knew there were people watching us, but anything I did would make it worse. “It's pretty ordinary, really.” She was surprised by that. She looked around and pointed toward a long row of shrubs leading up to the greenhouse. “Is that ordinary? There must be a hundred of them.” I smiled uncomfortably. “It's just volume. You know... if you have a lot of something for sale, you make more money.” “So it's all about money?” I paused and shrugged. This had gotten abstract fast. “Big stores usually are. Um, Peach, can we get out of here?” She frowned. “Is something wrong?” I smiled a little. “I just didn't expect to see you. I, um...” I struggled to find some way to say I didn't want to have to explain her to my coworkers. “You're probably sick of being here after eight hours,” she said. “Want to go to a different big store and help me pick out a TV?” I hadn't expected that. “You're getting a TV?” She grinned. “I got my first paycheck yesterday! I'm so excited.” And just like that, I was excited too. This was excellent—I hadn't known what we'd be doing together. “Sure! I'd be glad to help you pick out a TV set.” “It's a whole set?!” I couldn't keep myself from chuckling. “Kind of! Did you have a place in mind? Because there's a Walmart at the other end of the shopping center.” “Lead on,” she said, turning toward the doors. I found her faith in me touching. I felt a lot better once we were striding across the parking lot, headlights piercing the dusk like jumbo-sized lightning bugs. “That letter you stuffed in my box was amazing,” I told her. “Amazing? Really? I didn't think our art was that good.” “Heh. Well maybe not, but... it was a collaboration, right? You all drew yourselves?” “Not exactly.” She chuckled, bobbing her head. “I actually drew George, and he drew Seaswell, and Seaswell painted the stripes on the envelope. Really, we all drew whatever we wanted. But we were working as a team.” “And you spent basically your whole visit with them making it, didn't you?” I wasn't sure under the big parking lot lights, but I thought I spotted a blush. “It was what we focused our afternoon on.” “That's what makes it amazing,” I told her. She beamed and walked in silence. We were greeted by a chubby middle-aged black woman who seemed especially pleased at the chance to say “Hi, and welcome to Walmart!” to a pony. Peach was delighted back, for her part. “Thanks, I'm glad to be here!” she said, rearing up to smile right in the greeter's face. We went inside. “Just so you know,” I whispered to her, “the company that runs these stores is the biggest corporation in the world.” “Wow,” she said, looking around. “I guess I'm not surprised. It's huge! Is this place all about money, too?” Again with the abstraction. I was tempted to say yes, but... “I don't know if a store is really about anything, Spark.” “Hm,” she acknowledged. “But I don't think they're good for us. They hire cheap labor and buy products from overseas factories who hire even cheaper labor. And they drive local stores out of business.” Peach didn't seem to understand. “What's wrong with cheap labor? Cheap is good.” Was I really getting drawn into an economic discussion with a unicorn? I was no expert. “It means the people doing the work don't get paid enough to live on.” She wrinkled her muzzle. “Then how do they get by?” “Maybe some of them can live on it. The ones without families to raise, mainly. Others get help from the government. Food stamps, and that kind of thing.” “Food... stamps?” I grimaced—I knew she was imagining people eating stamps for their nutritional content. “You use them to buy food,” I explained. “We don't like to let anyone starve.” Amazingly, this morbid downer of a discussion brought delight to her face. “So you really do care!” “About each other? Yeah. Yeah, we care. Maybe not enough, but we do care.” I got a cart and headed for Electronics. Before she could reply, Peach was distracted by the home furnishings department. “Oh gosh, look at that, look at that!” She ran off to lie on an ottoman at the foot of a recliner, two items among dozens on display. “It's like five living rooms all in a row!” I sighed and wheeled the cart over. “Yep. Go on, get it all out.” She hooted and leapt into action. I watched as Peach ran about opening and closing cabinet doors, expanded an expandable desk, and tried out pretty much every chair in sight. There was a Walmart associate watching uneasily nearby, and when Peach started walking on a table, the associate finally started over. I sped over faster. “Off the table, Peach.” She got off, somewhat chided, and the associate decided to let things go, seeing, I presume, that a human had the excited pony in hand. “Sorry. I guess that's not for walking on.” “Yeah, no. Don't you have tables at home? And for that matter, furniture stores?” She nestled herself in a big cozy chair. “Yeah, we do have a furniture store in Witherton. I guess it's about five living rooms at once, too, and a few bedrooms besides. But somehow...” She peered around. “Somehow this place is more exciting. I mean... the ceiling's higher... and there's all that extra furniture in boxes, just waiting for someone to need it! I mean, don't you feel the excitement?” I tried to gauge how I felt. Honestly, I was jaded by places like this. “That's kind of what the big box stores do. They try to thrill you with volume. Warehouse stores, even more.” “Are you saying they're trying to trick me?” asked Peach. “Well... not directly? Look.” I sat down in a chair opposite her. “Any time you go into a store, or pass by a storefront, or even look at an ad, someone's trying to trick you. They're trying to get you to spend your money on something you might not have spent it on otherwise, by making it sound more exciting than it really is.” She frowned, hurt. “So it's all a trick?” She hopped out of the chair and gestured around her. “All this is just a trick??” “You might say that. I mean really, it's just retail. That's the way it is. You get stuff cheap, but there's a price to society. Every now and then, the legislature tries to ban stores like this from the state. But it never works—they're just too useful.” Now Peach looked confused. “It's so complicated.” “I've barely scratched the surface.” “All this furniture is so tall.” I laughed. “Your legs aren't long enough.” She went over and patted the ottoman. “I kind of like this one, though. It seems kind of pony-friendly. I mean, I can't imagine a human lying on it.” “I could sit on it... but really, it's more of a foot rest.” “A what? A foot rest? Wait. You mean you stand on it?” I grinned. “You sit in a chair, like this, and put your feet on it, like this.” I demonstrated. She stared at me. “That's so weird!” she exclaimed happily. Then she checked the price tag. “I can afford this. I think I might want it! It'd be like an enigma in my living space.” If that was how she wanted to think of it, I wouldn't stop her. “Well, the question is, can we get it back home on the bus along with a TV set? Can you carry it?” Blue magic gathered around the ottoman, and that same floor associate looked nervous again. I guess she was afraid to offend a pony customer. The ottoman rose a foot or so before Peach had to set it down. “I'm a lot better with small stuff,” she admitted, embarrassed. “Let's get that TV,” I suggested. “We can make another trip for this thing some other time.” “Okay,” Peach agreed, following me back toward Electronics. “Besides, I have to save some money for my big shopping tour with Kellydell! We're doing it Saturday.” “Sounds exciting! Any idea what you're gonna get?” “Well, probably a bunch of clothes! And maybe jewelry. I guess we'll have to make sure it's nothing we can't carry back.” I found myself hoping Kellydell knew what she was doing. “Just make sure you keep enough money to make rent,” I advised. “Oh, I will.” Suddenly, Peach looked up at me. “I must seem pretty naïve, huh? Running around like that, excited about all this stuff you're used to?” “Yeah, a little.” And if I was being honest, I might as well go all in. “I admit, when you were doing that, I found myself asking... 'How did I get myself into this?'” At that, her eyes got a little teary, and I went on. “But then I realized... the corners of my mouth were up, and I was happy. I'm really glad you're my friend, Sparky.” She grinned and gave me a quick hug around the waist. “You're not so shabby yourself. Want to know what the dumb little filly in me was thinking?” I wasn't so sure. “If it's not too embarrassing.” “I was thinking... What do you guys need fantasies for, if you've got all this stuff?” Whoa. “Really?” “Yeah. Pretty dumb, huh?” “Because stuff isn't everything?” I asked. “Yeah. I know stuff isn't everything. But in the heat of the moment...” “It tricked you, didn't it?” She winked. “Yeah. Your big Wall store tricked me.” That's when we reached Electronics and were faced with a massive wall of television sets. “Oh, Celestia!” Peach exclaimed. “They're in color! They're all in color!” I hurried to keep up. “You were expecting black and white?” “I dunno, I guess I wasn't thinking about it. The closest we have back home is black and white movies, and Witherton doesn't even have a theater.” She looked hopefully at me. “Do you think we could get them to play the show?” The show. Coming from a pony's mouth, anyone would know what that meant. ^~^ ^~^ ^~^ ^~^ ^~^ They were willing, all right. TVs were big ticket items, and the sales team was willing to cater in order to make a sale. Without asking her outright, the first man to talk to Peach made sure she actually had money. Once that was established, they treated her like a big fish wiggling on a hook. They told her the advantages of plasma, widescreen, HD and so on, and she ate it all up, trusting everything. It was as if the very idea of being taken advantage of didn't cross her mind. We stood together, watching an episode from the second season filled with lava, a dismal rocky landscape and a yellow sky. I could feel Peach quivering at one point in sympathy for poor little Spike, a baby dragon trying desperately to prove his worth among much larger teenagers. I'd forgotten how good this episode was. Off to the side, Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash and Rarity watched over Spike in a gaudy costume, trying to pass themselves off as a grown dragon, and somehow succeeding. Peach snerked beside me. “That costume is ridiculous!” I couldn't help laughing with her. “It sure is!” Yet something occurred to me. “But isn't it weird you think so? I mean... I mean, all this really happened, right?” She spared me her attention. “Of course! Everything on the show really happened. Those dragons really did play Lava Cannonball with Spike, and he really did tail-wrestle his friends in a stupid costume.” “And the gang fell for it, because the costume just happened to look exactly like some developmentally stunted dragon called Crackle.” “They did! It's amazing what people will believe if they don't know they should be skeptical.” “And yet... and yet... I mean, if that kind of thing can happen in Equestria, how can you think their costume is ridiculous?” Peach gave me an odd look. “Well, it is!” “Then how did it fool anyone?” She sighed. “Look, Pepper.” I waited while she gathered her thoughts. “The stars of the show... the Mane Six. They're not typical. You know that, right?” I had to confess I hadn't thought of it. “Well, yeah, I guess. They're heroes.” “They're heroes,” agreed Peach. “And they're completely bonkers.” She chuckled nervously. “I mean, some of the time they're all heroic with their unique and wonderful qualities, and at other times, they just lose their minds. Remember that time Pinkie went crazy just because no one came to one of her parties? Or the time Applejack kept checking in on her little sister every five minutes because she was terrified she'd break something?” I was hardly paying attention to the TV anymore. “Yeah?” “Well, we're not all like that!” pressed Peach. “I've never met Twilight or any of the rest of them, and I've never been to Ponyville. And I mean, we've got our eccentrics in Witherton and in Long Hedge, but not like them. Most of us are actually... you know, stable!” “I didn't mean to offend you,” I said. “You didn't! I just... I want you to know.” We watched Spike being inducted as a true dragon. Soon, he'd be forced to make a moral decision—stick with his new gang, or protect innocent phoenixes from predation. “I guess it makes sense. You don't make documentaries about ordinary, everyday people. Or sitcoms either, for that matter.” “Exactly!” agreed Peach. “Well, you can... but our world isn't one of those shows! I mean, I guess I'm saying...” She had to sit and think for a while before she knew what she was saying, though, so I sat down on the floor next to her until she did. “We're only as weird as we had to be,” said Peach. I looked at her, puzzled. “You made this kids' show with all these crazy adventures, these main characters who represent extreme ideas like Loyalty and Generosity and who do crazy things... and we're the world you got to go with it. Yes, we've got all that wacky stuff... magic potions and dragons and breezies and... and supervillains... and...” She looked at her own rear. “...And cutie marks.” “There's nothing wacky about cutie marks,” I interrupted. “You know what I mean,” she pressed, although I'm not sure I did. “We've got all this wild stuff, yes, it's all real... but...” The look she gave me was almost contrite. “...We're about as normal as we can possibly be, considering.” I felt like I was in the presence of something profound, but I just couldn't get it through my thick skull. Instead, I did my best. I hugged her. I sat there on the vinyl Walmart floor and I hugged my unicorn friend. And the salespeople let us be. The show came to an end, and the demo reel resumed, and they left us alone. I saw a tear in Peach's eye, and I wanted to wipe it away. Instead, I patted her shoulder in reassurance. ^~^ ^~^ ^~^ ^~^ ^~^ We ended up getting both a TV and a notebook computer. Peach really wanted a nice television set, since she saw it as a major part of the puzzle she was trying to solve. She needed to understand television if she was going to understand what she and her people were meant to be, and I respected that even if I didn't quite agree with her metaphysics. I suggested that if she got an internet connection and an HDMI adapter, she could stream net content onto her TV, and she went for it. Her paycheck hadn't been big enough to get it all at once, though, let alone save money for shopping with Kellydell, so I charged the TV to my credit card. Peach promised to pay me back. “They're really nice here,” she remarked as we headed outside. “They didn't get tired of me asking questions, and they gave a lot of really helpful suggestions! Best of all, even though we didn't have enough money to pay for it all today, they're happy enough to just tell a plastic card that we owe them the rest! I know you have issues with them, Pepper, but I love the Wall Store.” “It's Walmart,” I corrected. “And that plastic card isn't really a risk for them. I mean, they got their money—it's the credit card people we owe now.” “Really? I don't know. I'm just bowled over, Pepper! There's so many people happy to loan us money that we haven't even met!” “And that doesn't seem dangerous to you?” “Dangerous?” Peach wrinkled her nose, levitating the computer out the sliding doors. “How can being nice to people be dangerous?” I hefted the box containing the TV set from the cart and walked after her. “If you keep offering loans to people, they may borrow more than they can afford to pay. And then they get clobbered paying interest.” “Right, I understand what interest is, I think. But that's just the choice you make when you take the loan! If it's not a good idea, you can just say no, right?” I grunted. “Yeah, in theory. But people do get exploited, Sparky.” She walked thoughtfully, looking around the dark parking lot. The computer she was holding bobbed erratically in the air. “Look,” I said. “These are heavy, and they're obviously brand new and expensive. I don't want to take them home on the bus. Can we get a cab?” “A cab? But what's wrong with the bus? We can put them down once we get on.” “Someone could steal them,” I said sharply. I guess I stunned her out of her reverie. Put things in perspective. “Oh. That's a big thing, here?” I shrugged. “We're kind of asking for it,” I said. She dipped her head for a moment, but eventually looked up. “Fine,” she decided. “I'll pay. I only rode once in a cab before, and never with a friend! This'll be fun.” I put down the TV and stooped to cuddle her supportively. I wanted to say I was sorry for everything cynical I'd said that night—for every sliver of doubt in humanity I'd had the gall to instill in her. Instead, I just smiled a broad smile and told her, “Yeah. It'll be fun. Let's do it.” But it was a quiet ride home.