//------------------------------// // The Wait // Story: Lemon Pies and Chess: Lemonade // by Lemon Pegasus //------------------------------// “Do we control when we die? Do we control who we fall in love with? Are we in any charge at all, or is it all one big game of chess, resulting in death for many and pride for many more? Because, if we are truly in control, why MUST we die at some point?" -unknown <<-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_->> Lemon wandered through the forest of tall, magnificent lemon trees, waiting impatiently for some sign of his father’s arrival. He was a small, 5 year old pegasus. His hair was green and neatly combed, a single brown streak coming past his ear. His tail was long and green with a brown core. The child looked timid, harmless, yet full of energy. And the forest; the trees were of a dark green shade, yet sunlight passed through every branch, illuminating the ground and every budding lemon seed. The sky was clear, not a single cloud, bright and blue. Silence was all to be heard throughout, except for the occasional tweet of a lark when, a mature voice broke the silence. “Lemon, I keep telling you, you shouldn't go this far into the plantation, you could get lost!” Coming from the direction Lemon was facing, a familiar pony approached. This pony was taller than Lemon, and 17 years of age. His fur was maroon and his mane was dark brown. He had a freckled face. Maple was his name, and he was Lemon’s elder brother. The two of them were close, but couldn't always talk because of course Maple had school at his age. “Oh its okay,” Lemon’s naive, young voice replied “I leave a trail of rocks up to this point in the forest. That way I know my way back.” Maple looked behind him to indeed see a trail of rocks, spread out every 3 metres or so. “Either way, you could get hurt out here, what if a badger bit you?” Maple looked down at Lemon’s face, who just continued to smile at him. “The animals here know me, Maple, I come here every day. Around now, I think the larks should be coming back to their nests.” And at that moment, a dozen larks flew over head and each landed in a lemon tree. Their golden feathers looked very admirable under the shade of the lemon trees, as they brought twigs and caterpillars back to their nests. Maple sighed. “Well, could you please come back to the house? What if Dad comes and you’re out here?” Lemon’s mind froze at the mention of his dad, who he hadn't seen for weeks. “I wanted to surprise him, I thought maybe if he could show up at the house and I appear behind him, it would be a funny prank!” The naive attitude of Lemon Zest made him a cute little pony, but sometimes you just wanted to face hoof. “Never mind the prank; Mum wants us to help clean the living room, okay?” Lemon sighed and reluctantly agreed. “Okay.” He told his brother. They made their way back to the house, crossing hundreds of lemon trees on the way. Soon enough, there was a clearing and a large, empty patch of land came into view. In the centre was a single, tall lemon tree, much larger than the rest. A fair distance north of this tree was a great, magnificent house. It was 2 stories high, with a large, wooden patio to the left and a raised balcony to the right. The bricks were painted white and the windows looked old yet clean. In front of the small, red door were some flower pots, large yet with small flowers inside. “Lemon, how come you didn't sit under the super tree of yours? You could have hid behind there to prank dad and I wouldn't have to come looking for you?” Maple asked little Lemon, as they just reached the tree. Lemon liked to call it the “super tree” because of how it was so much more magnificent than the other trees on the plantation. “Well, what if he saw me? He’d only be a few feet away?” Lemon replied. Whenever Lemon’s dad arrived, it was a big moment for the whole family, but especially big for Lemon. The two of them would play chess under the super tree, and while playing they’d enjoy the lemonade which Lemon had taught himself to make before he could even speak. Mum would always make that delicious recipe with specially roasted chicken and lemon juice. Lemon’s dad didn't mind him wandering off into the plantation, in fact, his dad actually taught him a lot about the wildlife that lives in there: the deer, the birds, the foxes… Maple opened up the small red door to the house to reveal the living room. There was a small collection of sofas and the stairs to the right, to the left was the small yet conveniently organised kitchen, as well as the door to the patio. In the kitchen, a mare cleaned the counters with a yellow cloth. This pony was yellow, just like Lemon, and had a brown plaited mane. She also had freckles, like Maple, and was quite saucy for her age. “Playin’ in the plantation again?” the mare asked, in quite the American accent, not that Equestrians knew what an “America” was… “...No, actually, I found him watering the flowers outside” Maple replied, giving Lemon a subtle look of trust. Lemon was glad his brother was helping him out here. “Oh, well that’s mighty nice of you Lemon, good boy!” Lemon just nodded. The mare went back to work. “So you gonna help me, you two?” “Uhh, yes...” and Maple grabbed a duster from the kitchen cupboard. Lemon set to work on organising the various awards that Sweetest Lemon had achieved since starting WAY back in 1980horse. It didn't take long; their mum, Citronella, had already done quite a bit of work. Three knocks on the door silenced the ponies in the room.