“There you are, Rainbow”
Rainbow squealed with glee. “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” She immediately settled into one of the reading chairs Booker had in every room of his house, starting her book before she’d even come to a full stop.
Booker raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recall asking you to stay for tea,” he said, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. Rainbow, predictably, ignored him. He chuckled. “Looks like she’s already gone, eh Twilight?” He paused, waiting for a response, before turning around to see Twilight staring at the ceiling-high bookshelves lining every wall of the room. He sighed. “Guess everypony’s off to La-La land” he muttered.
Twilight, eyes wide, asked, “Does every room in this house have this many books?”
Booker blew air out of his nose. “For the thousandth time, Twilight, yes.”
Twilight shook her head slowly. “I just can’t comprehend that. You must have thousands of books in here.”
“Three hundred six thousand, nine hundred and fifty two at last count” Booker recited blandly.
Twilight’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“No,” Booker said with a grin, “I made it up.”
Twilight sighed with relief. “Good. I was beginning to think that-“
“It’s actually only three hundred six thousand, nine hundred and fifty books,” he said, grin widening.
Twilight paused, then said, “Have you read all of them?”
“Of course I have,” he said, “What else would a reader pony do?”
Twilight frowned. “That raises an interesting question. How do you make money? A collection like this doesn’t come cheap.”
Before he could answer, Pink’s shouted, “Booker! Where are you?!”
“In here!” Booker shouted back. Soon, Pink came into the room. She was (predictably) pink, completely pink. She was a young unicorn, with a coat, mane, and even a raincloud cutie mark colored pink. “Twilight,” said Booker, “this is my sister,” Leaning in, he whispered, “Don’t ask her for her name. Trust me.”
A bit bemused, Twilight said, “Hello, pleased to meet you…uh…”
“Call me whatever you like,” Pink said forcefully.
With Twilight thinking about this strange turn of events, Booker said, “So, young one, what do want?”
Pink beamed. “It’s done.”
Booker grunted. “Took you long enough. It’s been, what, three days since you started?”
Pink rolled her eyes. “Well it could have been done in two, but somepony decided I needed to see the dentist.”
“I didn’t decide you needed to see the dentist, it was just that time of the year again.”
“Well, if you’re gonna complain I don’t work fast enough, then don’t forget about-“
“Wait, wait,” Twilight interrupted, “I’m lost. What are you two going on about?”
They stopped their cheerful bickering. Pink said, “My latest creation.” She glanced toward Booker. “Just as well I haven’t activated yet. Now these two can see exactly what I do.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that one’s going anywhere anytime soon,” Booker said, gesturing toward Rainbow. “But I’m sure Twilight would love to see it.”
“What are you two talking about,” Twilight asked again.
“Go out to the backyard,” Pink said, “and find out.” Shaking her head, Twilight moved toward the door. When she was gone, Pink asked, “So, who are these two?”
“You want the long or the short version?” Booker replied.
“Short for now; she’ll start wondering where we are.”
“In that case, they’re friends who wanted to see my collection.”
“Right, ‘friends’,” Pink winked. Booker rolled his eyes.
“Come on, you.”
Together, they moved out to the backyard. Twilight was staring at the carefully placed, multi-colored clouds hovering over a suspended sheet of paper. “What’s all this for?” Twilight asked.
Pink smiled. “This!” she said, sending a jolt of magic through her horn into the clouds. As one, they activated. The rain splashed onto the paper, leaving color behind. The excess water fell through, sinking into the ground. In a moment, a full color, gigantic painting had been made.
Twilight was dumbstruck. “I-I don’t think water works that way,” she eventually stammered.
Booker laughed. “I don’t think so either.”
“Aren’t you curious as to why that happens?” Twilight asked.
“Of course I am,” Booker replied, “but when three hundred thousand books can’t tell me, I tend to think I won’t ever find the answer.”
“But-“ Twilight began.
“I’m constantly getting new books,” Booker said, “Maybe one of them will provide an answer. Until then, I’m content with just saying ‘magic’ and moving on. Now,” he said, addressing Pink, “what exactly is this latest painting?”
“A landscape of Ponyville,” Pink replied, “I always make one when we move.”
“Huh. You usually wait longer than this,” Booker said.
“The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can move on,” Pink replied, “One of your books told me that.”
Booker smiled. “Always happy to share whatever knowledge they can provide.” At that moment, he heard knocking on the door. He frowned. “I wonder who that could be.” He left Twilight and his sister in the yard, moving to answer the door. Upon opening it, he saw a young orange pegasus. “Hello. Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m Scootaloo,” she replied, “Pinkie wants you to come to Sugarcube Corner.”
“Ah, I see,” Booker said, “I think I know what this is about. Tell her we’ll be there shortly.”
“Okay!” She zipped away, hopping onto a scooter and taking off. Booker shut the door, coming back to where Twilight and Pink were waiting.
“-so how did you get your cutie mark, young one?” Twilight asked, taking note from Booker.
“Well, I've always loved to paint. I’d do it all the time, but that meant we ran out pretty quickly. Booker couldn’t keep up with all the paint I needed.”
“How often did he get you paint?” Twilight asked.
“Once a week,” Booker said from the doorway, “In other words, not nearly often enough.”
“Exactly,” Pink said heartily, “Anyway, I looked through the books and found a few recipes. I started making my own paint.”
“And my wallet is still thanking you for that,” said Booker.
Pink rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. So, with all the paint I could make, I started creating like mad. Soon enough, I got bored of making small paintings. I started thinking bigger. My first huge painting,” she gestured toward the landscape, “took a month to make. I decided that was way too long, so I started getting creative. Water was a key ingredient to the paint, and I knew from Booker that clouds are just water. I mixed my paint into the clouds, set ‘em up just right, and made my first rain painting.”
“Wow,” said Twilight, “that’s a great story.”
“Yeah well, now that storytime’s over, I’ve got some news,” said Booker dryly, “We’re expected at Sugarcube Corner for a surprise.”
“Judging by your tone,” Pink said, “you already know what it is.”
“Of course. I can’t be surprised. It’s a well-known fact.” Booker said with a straight face.
Pink snorted. “Right, and you can also shoot lasers out of your eyes.”
Booker eyes widened, and said in a mock surprised voice, “Can’t you?”
“Well,” said Twilight, “whatever the surprise is, it’s not getting any closer.”
“True,” said Booker, “Let’s pick up Rainbow and go.”
Rainbow did not take kindly to being interrupted. After a minute of saying her name, Booker used magic to snap her book closed. “Hey!” she yelled, “What’s the deal!”
“We’re leaving, and I don’t want strangers in my house.” Booker said calmly, “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” Grumbling, Rainbow flew out the front door, book clutched in her hooves. Turning to Twilight and Pink, Booker said, “Now, let’s go see about that surprise, shall we?”
The party went about as well as could be expected. Everypony was welcoming and friendly, the food was good, and the music was that perfect blend of relaxing and energetic that readers need. Pinkie definitely knows her business thought Booker as he introduced himself to the residents of Ponyville. His natural inclination was to drift to a corner, but he knew that these were his neighbors. The least he could do was learn their names. There were curious glances thrown at his cutie mark, but strangely nopony made a comment about it. Booker learned why about halfway through the night.
Pinkie had set up a small stage, and she called Booker up onto it. “Okay, everypony!” Pinkie said into a megaphone, “Now it’s time for the talent show!” Everypony cheered, and Booker realized why everyone had held in their curiosity. “The rules are simple,” Pinkie continued, “Show off what you do, and how you do it!” Booker could see a practical application to this. Potential employers could see what skills a newcomer had, making landing a job a lot easier. “So,” Pinkie was saying, “Show your stuff, Booker Longlegs!”
Booker stepped forward. As always, the feeling of every eye in the room trained on him made him uncomfortable. He allowed none of it to show, however, as he addressed the crowd. “Hello, everypony. My name is Booker Longlegs, but you knew that already,” Booker added, nodding to Pinkie, “I’ve seen the curiosity in all of you when you see my cutie mark, and so allow me to clear that up. My talent is reading,” The crowd began muttering among themselves, with Booker patiently letting it go on. Eventually, they quieted down, realizing he had more to say. “Now, I highly doubt that you want to see me read for the next ten minutes,” The crowd chuckled, “so I will take this time to answer a question posed to me by your princess, Twilight.” Everypony turned to look at her, coming back when Booker continued, “She asked me what I do to make money, and as somepony who understands the desire for knowledge, I will provide an answer.”
Booker levitated a book out of his saddlebag. “Now, who here hasn’t read the first of the Daring Do books?” No one raised their hand, “Good, I won’t be spoiling it for anypony.” There were a few muffled sighs as the crowd realized he was going to read aloud. Opening up to the first page, Booker took a deep breath. The crowd settled in, convinced they were in for a boring couple of minutes. Then, Booker’s horn began to glow. A large, black rectangle appeared above his head, and when he began to read the rectangle changed. There were gasps in the audience as they saw what was happening. The rectangle formed into the first scene of Daring Do, brought to life in a way no movie could replicate. The images were formed from pure imagination, which gave a much better quality than special effects and cameras. The crowd watched in amazement as the well-loved story played out before them. The few who tore their gaze away from the image noted that Booker was reading faster than could be imagined, his eyes blurring down page after page; obtaining, analyzing, and imagining the scenario in a heartbeat.
All too soon, it was over. Booker stopped at the end of the first chapter. There were a few cries of protest, to which Booker smiled and said, “Now, now. I can’t go revealing all of my secrets, can I?” When the ponies still looked sullen, he said, “Well, if you want to see how it ends, I’ll be putting on a show the day after tomorrow.” They perked up a bit at that. “Now then, I bid you all a good night.” Booker said, stepping down from the stage. The applause started, and he made his way to where his sister had a plate of cake for him. “Thank you,” he said, taking a large bite of cake.
“I knew you’d be hungry,” Pink said, “You always are after a show.”
Swallowing, he said, “Very astute of you.”
“I’ll be honest, I feel a bit bad about having cake that we didn’t pay for,” Pink said hesitantly.
Booker shrugged. “Free cake is free cake. Why do you think I always tag along to your friend’s birthday parties?”
Pink punched him lightly on the shoulder. Twilight, Pinkie, and a white unicorn Booker remembered was named Rarity approached them. Twilight said, “Good job Booker.”
“Eh,” Booker replied dismissively, “It was alright.”
“Alright?!” Rarity exclaimed, “It was fabulous! I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“And now you have,” Booker said, “so it won’t be as impressive next time.”
“Can’t you enjoy a moment of praise?” Rarity said, exasperated.
“Praise is overrated,” Booker said in a false happy tone. He yawned, “I think I’ll go home. It’s been a long day.”
“What?!” Pinkie exclaimed, “You can’t leave now! We haven’t even played party games yet!”
“Besides,” Rarity said, in the same tone he’d used before, “Sleep is overrated.”
Booker grinned. “Right back at me, huh? Fine, I’ll stay for the games.”
“Good,” Pink said, “I definitely wasn’t leaving yet, and I’d hate to have to walk home alone.”
From there, they were treated to classic party games, like pin the tail on the donkey, darts, and even a quiz game (which Booker won by a landslide). By the end of it, Booker and his sister were pretty well tired out. They made their farewells, and headed for home. Pink went straight to bed, yawning as she shut the door. Booker went to his “bedroom”. It was actually just the fantasy section of his collection, since the large amount of books had made him give up a bedroom. He didn’t mind, though, he usually fell asleep reading in one of his chairs. Stretching out, he briefly went over what he needed to do the next day before nodding off.
The café was having a slow day. There were only three customers; two friends at one table and a single pony wearing a cloak with the hood up. The two friends were talking about the new pony in town. “What do you make of him?” asked one.
“He seems friendly enough,” the other replied, “and that trick with the book was pretty impressive.”
“Yeah, it was impressive, but what did it amount to?”
“What do you mean?”
The pony looked around furtively, lowering his voice. Under the hood, Booker tilted his ears back to catch the next words. “I mean, what’s the use? It was amazing, I’ll give you that. But aside from looking cool, what was the point?”
“Well, by that logic, what’s the point of movies?”
“Movies reach a very wide audience, and a lot of them tell their own stories. His magic only lets him retell stories, and not a lot of ponies get to see it.”
“…I guess so. Still, it was good entertainment.”
“Yeah.” Booker sighed. Heard all this before he thought. He drained the last of his morning coffee and left the café. Despite his previous thought, the words kept nagging at him. What’s the use? He shook his head, forcing the thought from his mind. He had more pressing concerns.
He headed out of the main town, through the outskirts and foothills, searching for the place he knew would exist. Eventually, he found it. A meadow, isolated from everything else. It was quiet here, free of all the distractions of the world. He nodded; this was the perfect place for reading. Booker found a spot near the center, pulling one of his favorite books from his saddlebags. He sighed with contentment, opened up to the first page, and began to read.
After about an hour, he heard movement behind him. Turning, he saw a yellow pegasus leading a flock of birds into the meadow. Booker exhaled slowly. It seemed he’d have to share his perfect spot with, Booker searched his memory for her name, Fluttershy. He stood to greet her, throwing back his hood. She started, then began backing away, muttering apologies as she went.
“Where are you going?” Booker said gently.
Fluttershy, encouraged by his quiet voice, said, “Oh, well, I didn’t realize the meadow was already taken for today. I was just going to find another place for my bird choir to practice.”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary.” Booker said, “I’m sure this was your quiet place before it was mine. If anypony should leave, it should be me.”
“Oh,” Fluttershy said, “I’m sorry for getting in the way of you leaving.”
Booker laughed. “Who said I was leaving?”
Fluttershy paused, confused, before asking, “So, who’s leaving? Me or you?”
“Neither,” Booker said, “I don’t see why we can’t both stay.”
“But, what about your reading?” Fluttershy asked.
“Music never hurt reading,” Even though I’d like it if it was quiet.
“Oh, sorry for not understanding.”
It isn’t your fault. Aloud, he said nothing, deciding it was better to just let her get on with her singing. He re-opened the book. As he did so, he subtly made a circle on his wrist, as if he was setting a watch. This was his method of ignoring things, “tuning them out”. It was a very helpful skill to have when your life revolved around reading. The circle didn’t really help; it was just a habit he started one day. He picked up where he left off, barely noticing the birds and their mistress going about practice.
Another hour later and he was done. He closed the book, marveling at how it was still interesting the thirty-sixth time through. Looking around, he noticed the bird choir packing up as well. Huh. Convenient. Fluttershy approached him nervously. “Thank you for letting us practice,” she said.
Booker raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for letting me read.”
“Did the music help you at all?” she asked.
“Not really,” Booker said, “but whether there’s music or not doesn’t matter to me.”
“Oh, that’s a relief,” Fluttershy said, “All through practice I was worried I was being a nuisance.”
Booker laughed quietly, “Trust me, Fluttershy; if I’d been annoyed, you would have known.”
Fluttershy smiled at that. “In that case, I’m glad you weren’t annoyed”
Booker stretched, then said, “I’m going to head home. I’ll probably be here at least once a week.”
“Oh, well we practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Fluttershy said, “If you don’t want to be disturbed, maybe you could come some other day?”
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter either way to me,” Booker said, “I’ll be here whenever the mood takes me, so don’t be afraid to practice just because I’m here.” Fluttershy smiled gratefully, and Booker felt his own mouth tugging at the corners as he turned away. “Well, good-bye Fluttershy.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Booker.” Booker froze, then turned around slowly. A frown creased his face. Fluttershy immediately started panicking. “Oh, did I do something wrong? I’m so, so sorry.”
Booker stood there frowning for another second, then gave a bright smile. “In the future, please don’t call me ‘Mr.’ Booker. I feel old enough as it is with my sister around.”
Fluttershy recoiled, saying, “I-I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know…”
Booker took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Fluttershy, I was joking. I was just trying to say that you don’t have to call me ‘Mr.’” Fluttershy relaxed a bit, letting out one more apology just to be sure. Booker filed away that he should not try to pull a practical joke on Fluttershy. Way to end a conversation on an awkward note, there, Booker. Mentally, he shrugged. He’d have plenty of opportunities to fix it. He made his way out of the meadow, heading back into the town proper.