//------------------------------// // Chapter 9: Lightning and Cherry // Story: A Gift from Celestia // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// A Gift from Celestia Chapter 9: Lightning and Cherry Admiral Biscuit True to her word, Ditzy had come by the nurse’s office the next morning on her way to work.  Tenderheart had given her the stack of pamphlets, and most importantly, the form which would serve as her reprieve.  She’d jammed them into her saddlebags alongside her lunch, and flown off to work. Now she was sitting under a tree, the pamphlets in front of her, puzzling her way through them.  There were a lot of big, important-sounding words, words that she probably should have known, but they hadn’t been covered in school.  She could have gone back to the clinic, but Tenderheart had seemed kind of disappointed in her.  She wasn’t sure why—she’d kept her promise, so why was Tenderheart grumpy? It's the best thing, she thought, taking a nibble out of her sandwich. I'll do it, and it'll be over. That's it. I can make the appointment tonight, wait out the week and not tell anypony, and then things will go back to normal. She looked up at the sky briefly. I'll be able to do a day's work without getting sick, I won't wake up needing to puke—it'll be like nothing ever happened. Mother won't get mad, Papa will think the ginger root did the trick, and things will go back to like they were before. She took another bite of her sandwich, closed the pamphlet, and grabbed another one the nurse had given her. This one was all about birthing, something she really didn't need to know about, but she was kind of curious. She hadn’t read that far in the book she’d gotten from the library. She was struggling through the mechanics of lactation when Lightning landed beside her.  “Hey, kid, I wondered where you went.  Lunch break’s over.” “Oh, horseapples!   Sorry, sorry, I got distracted.” Lightning looked around at Ditzy’s half-eaten lunch and the pamphlets in front of her.  A broad smile broke out on her face.  “Hey, congratulations!  No wonder you’re distracted.”  She tapped her hoof on the grass, before sitting down beside Ditzy.  “When’s the foal due?” “There won’t be one,” Ditzy said.  “The nurse said that I could have a procedure that would make it go away.” Lightning blinked and looked at Ditzy’s guileless face.  She pinned her ears back and jerked to her hooves, kicking a divot behind her.  Her head dropped and she snorted before snapping her wings out.  Wordlessly, Lightning backed away from Ditzy before she turned tail and leapt into the air. Ditzy watched her leave with a mild sense of alarm.  She hastily stuffed the pamphlets in her bag before leaping into the air and giving chase.  Her sandwich was a casualty of war, left to be discovered and eaten by the small animals that roamed the park. Even with the head start Lightning had gotten, it was no contest.  It wasn’t for nothing that Ditzy had been three-time distance champion in Los Pegasus, and after months of working on weather patrol, she knew the air currents around Ponyville like the back of her hoof.  She might not have been the fastest pegasus in Ponyville, but she knew all the tricks to boost her speed, and Lightning didn’t.  Ditzy caught up with her co-worker before she was even halfway back to their work area. “Hey, what’s going on?” Ditzy asked.  “How come you just flew off like that?” Lightning didn’t answer; she just skirted a cloud and bucked it towards Ditzy, who had to pull up sharply to avoid crashing. Her forward momentum gone, she watched Lightning blaze off into the distance, but the race wasn’t over yet.  There were good updrafts this time of day along the hills, and Lightning was headed right towards them.  Ditzy rolled over on her back and dove, picking up airspeed as fast as she could. Her eyes locked on a tree.  It was about the right distance away . . . using it as a reference point, she continued her upside-down dive, keeping her wings and hooves tucked in tight.  Her mane was billowing by her face as she cannonballed towards the ground.  When she judged she’d picked up enough speed, she flared her wings open again, gently tilting them to pull out of her dive without losing too much airspeed. She rolled back upright and shot over the top of the tree, yanking her hooves up to avoid stripping the crown or tangling up in the branches.  She was still picking up speed, and she knew the updraft was close—as soon as she felt the buffeting on her wings, she headed up, letting the wind do the work for her. As soon as she crowned the hill, she began flapping furiously. keeping as much speed as she could.  She saw Lightning coming, glancing behind her—she’d never think to check in front and below for Ditzy. Her timing was perfect—she rolled on her back under a low cloud and kicked it upwards hard.  Lightning slammed into it and tumbled to a halt on the top, and Ditzy was on her before she could move, pinning her on her back. “What the hay, Lightning?  What’s gotten into you?  You coulda just said that we had a lot of work to do.” “You really don’t know.”  Lightning spit at her. “I’m not gonna know unless you tell me, okay?  You got a knot in your tail, huh?  I thought we got along better than that, but if you want to scrap to settle this thing, we can do that.” “You wanna know why I’m upset?  Is that it?” “Yes!”  Ditzy let her up, and the two mares stood muzzle-to-muzzle. “Because you’re dumb and selfish!  All you do is think of yourself, not anypony else.”  She leaned in towards Ditzy and began to advance as Ditzy started backing on the cloud.  “You didn’t learn anything at school, except how to be a spoiled mule who won’t even take responsibility for her own actions!” “It’s gonna be a unicorn,” Ditzy whined.  “I can’t have a unicorn.” Lightning blinked, then clouted Ditzy in the head, knocking her over.  Without another word, Lightning glanced over the side of the cloud and backflipped off before Ditzy could get to her hooves, dropping sideways towards the ground.   Ditzy jumped behind her.  She guessed that Lightning was going to head for the grove of trees and try and lose her in there, so she kept more altitude, not wanting to commit herself until she saw what Lightning was up to.  However, instead of doing what she’d expected, the white pegasus banked the other way, heading for Sweet Apple Acres.  Too late, Ditzy realized her misjudgement, and dove after Lightning. Lightning banked hard, skimming over a fallow field before blasting into a cornfield, Ditzy hot on her hooves.  Lightning dropped lower, aiming for the split-rail fence that delineated the edge of the field.  Ditzy drew in a sharp breath as Lightning banked dangerously sharply, grabbing a corn plant in her teeth before yanking her wing clear of the ground.   Instead of continuing her flight, Lightning pulled up hard, the corn still in her teeth.  Ditzy could see her sides heaving as she panted around the stalk. Without a word, Lightning landed, walking to a flat rock that jutted up over the tall grass beside the field.  She set the corn on top of the rock, and began stomping it into oblivion. “What the hay is wrong with you?”  Ditzy glared at her boss. She leaned down and bit the immature ear in half, then began grinding it to a paste under her hoof.  “You see this plant?  It was alive—it was going to be something.  Now?  Now it’s nothing but garbage.” Lightning jumped off the rock and advanced on Ditzy.  “And you want to do the same thing to your foal, huh?  And you’re asking me what’s wrong with me?”  She jabbed a hoof in Ditzy shoulder.  “What’s wrong with you?” “It’s a procedure,” Ditzy said.  “Just a procedure.” “That’s your procedure,” Lightning spat, pointing to the pathetic remains of the corn plant.  “You stay away from me, you monster.  Fly home, and don’t come back.” Without another word, she took to the sky, racing off to the east. Ditzy walked over and looked at the obliterated corn plant.  It had largely been reduced to a green stain on the rock. She looked back over at the field where it had been planted.  There were hundreds of other corn plants, maybe thousands.  The field didn’t look any emptier because it was missing.  She trotted up to the fence, looking at the neat rows of corn until she found a hole with a spray of dark-colored soil fanning away from it. It was unmistakably an empty spot in the field. “Lightning shouldn’t have done that,” she said quietly.  “The Apples work so hard to make sure everypony’s fed.”  She knew that their youngest daughter did farm chores every day before she came to school, and did more when she got home.  Throughout the summer, she’d seen her working in the fields and groves, making sure that every one of their plants got the nurturing it needed to thrive. And one reckless move from a pegasus had ended that corn plant forever. Sooner or later, one of the Apples would come along, and would see the empty hole in the field.  They wouldn’t know what had happened, or why.  Her heart beat fast.  If they came along while she was still hanging out by the field, they might think she’d done it. Ditzy looked around guiltily before making a beeline towards town.  She glanced down at the field as she flew—she could see the empty spot for much longer than she thought she should be able to. She kept low, just skirting the treetops. Her flight was wavering and unfocused as her adrenaline burned off and she worked through her tiff with Lightning. It wasn't like the doctor would take the foal out of her and smash it against a rock, and ponies weren't plants. But Lightning had been very angry. Like she was making a wrong choice, somewhere. She couldn't raise a foal, especially not a unicorn. She'd never seen a unicorn in the clouds. Without consciously realizing where she'd been going, she found herself at Cherry's small orchard. Ditzy glided down to a landing between the rows of cherry trees, reached under her barrel for the buckle on her saddlebag, and stripped it off. She breathed a sigh of relief as her sweat-stained coat was exposed to the air. She rolled over on her back, twisting against the soft grass, letting it soothe and cool her. A minute later, Cherry leaned over her. “The grass in the east pasture is softer,” the earth pony said. “What's with the lather?” “Me and Lightning got in a fight,” Ditzy said. “I chased her halfway around Ponyville. And then—“ Her ears slumped and she dropped her head on the ground. “Do you want to talk about it?” Ditzy nodded, looked down at a sprig of grass in front of her nose, and took a deep breath. “Papa made me go to the nurse 'cause I was sick in the morning and he was worried about me and I tried to get out of it, but he insisted I go. She said I was—was pregnant but that I could have a procedure which would make the foal go away and I have enough bits saved up and then mother wouldn't know and couldn't get mad at me for fooling around with a mudpony. And papa wouldn't be disappointed, but when Lightning found out she was mad and said I was a monster and now I don't know what to do.” “I . . . um, okay.” Cherry frantically tried to sort through her thoughts. “Alright. So you went to the nurse, and she confirmed that you're pregnant.” “I sorta guessed before.” Ditzy sniffled. “I started putting on weight, and I was sick in the morning, and Goldie said that her mom had morning sickness and mood swings.” She rolled on her side, away from Cherry. “But I could have hid it.” That never works, Cherry thought. “The nurse said I could have a procedure, and I was going to do that as soon as I could, but I don't know why Lightning thinks it's a bad thing. Princess Celestia wouldn't let the doctors do it if it's bad, right?” “No, she wouldn't.” Cherry nuzzled Ditzy's wing. “You have to make the best choice for yourself, Ditzy. It's your body, and you get the final say—not me, not your parents, not the nurse.” “That's what Nurse Tenderheart said, too.” Ditzy said glumly. “But what if I don't know? I don't want Lightning mad at me. How come she doesn't understand why I have to?” “Because . . . maybe she's not thinking of it logically?” Ditzy chuckled. “Yeah. Us pegasi are impulsive.” “See, I think of it like, well, it's kind of like an unwanted tree.” Cherry motioned to the neat row of trees in the orchard. “Like, maybe a maple tree that got in here by mistake. Sometimes a tree starts growing where I don't want it to, and I have to decide if I want to transplant it, or just chop it down before it gets too big.” “Transplanting is like where you dig it up, and then move it somewhere else, right?” Cherry nodded. “It's a lot of work, and sometimes the tree doesn't do well in its new place, especially if it's a few seasons old. It's kind of like—well, if you have the abortion, that’s it. It's done. If you keep the foal until it's born, and then give it up for adoption, then it's like you did a lot of work and didn't get anything out of it in the end.  And maybe the new home isn’t good for it. “The point is, just 'cause you've got a foal in your belly doesn't mean you have to keep it there. Sometimes it's best if you don't. Berry Punch probably shouldn't've—or she could have given Pinch up for adoption." “Pinch is cute.” “I know, but Berry . . . she's not really a good mother.” Ditzy turned onto her belly and looked at Cherry. “That's a mean thing to say about your friend.” “Well, it's true.” Cherry shrugged. “I guess she might wind up surprising us, but I don't see it. Probably Pinch's first word's gonna be a swear. Anyway, I think Lightning was mad 'cause she pictures a foal in there, and thinks you're gonna hurt it.” She poked Ditzy in the side. “Isn't that what's in my tummy?” “It's more like a seedling right now. Just a little sprout.” “What do they do with it, anyway?” Ditzy looked up at her saddlebags. “The pamphlet didn't say—just that the doctor takes it out. He's got to put it somewhere, right?” “I dunno. I guess they just bury it behind the hospital, in the cemetery.” “Ew.” Ditzy looked back at her barrel. “I don't know how it'd feel, to know that something that was in me—was a part of me—is in a cemetery. It'd be like I cut off a hoof or something.” Cherry lay down on the grass next to Ditzy. “It's just like getting your mane trimmed, or your hooves filed.” “I guess.”  Ditzy rolled one eye upward to look at her ragged forelock.  “The pamphlet says that they put you to sleep for the procedure.” “So you won't know anything.” “I'm kind of scared of that.” “It's a little weird,” Cherry said. “They put a little mask on you, and it smells really funny, and then the next thing you know you're waking up in a hospital bed.” “Did you have one?  Is that how you know about it?” “No, I broke my left fore coffin bone when I was a filly. Playing around, landed on a rock. Cracked my hoof, too. I had to wear a special shoe on that hoof the rest of the summer.” She smiled faintly. “Everypony at school called me peg-leg the next year, but then I had my growth spurt, and after a few little scuffles, nopony called me that anymore.” “How long were you there?” “Just a day. But I wasn't allowed to use that leg for two weeks, and I had to go back for a couple of exams, to make sure it was healing right.” She twisted her hoof around, and then held it close to Ditzy. “You can still see a little scar in my coat, from where they had to cut me open to fix it.” Ditzy flattened her ears. “They had to cut you open to fix a bone? Some of the mares in Las Pegasus got broken wings, and they just had casts. Are they gonna have to cut me open to get the foal out?” “I think the doctor just goes in under your tail. Doesn't it say in the pamphlet?” Ditzy shook her head. “They don't say how the procedure works, just that a doctor does it.” “Well, it makes sense. That's where a foal would normally come out.” She rubbed her hoof against Ditzy's withers. “Kind of weird to think that you fit out your mom's vagina once, isn't it? And now you're big enough to have your own foal.” She looked up at the rows of trees thoughtfully. “Each one of those trees started off as just a cherry pit, and now look at them.” Cherry stood up and nudged Ditzy. “Come on. Let's go to the house. Maybe have a drink—we can talk some more over a drink.” “The nurse says I'm not supposed to drink.” “Well, if you're planning on getting rid of the foal, it won't matter, right?” Ditzy nodded, and got to her hooves. “You're probably right . . . but maybe I shouldn't, just in case. Shouldn't have the drink, that is. Not until I'm really, really sure.” “You're not thinking—okay, listen. Friend to friend.” Cherry turned and looked her in the eye. “Whatever you decide, Ditz, I'll be there for you, whether I think you made the right choice or not. I've got my opinion; I know what I'd do if I was in your shoes.” Ditzy lifted a hoof. “I don't wear shoes.” “Not my point. I know what I'd do. I'm not ready for a foal, not yet. I'll know when the time comes—I'll know deep inside that it's time. You need to be sure for yourself, okay? Don't go doing or not doing something you'll regret later on.  Come on inside; I’ll make you a cup of herb tea” •        •        • After they’d had a drink, Ditzy went outside and flew up to the porch roof, and just lay there, trying to clear her mind. Everything had seemed so simple this morning. Have the procedure, and things would go back to how they had been before. Now she knew that wasn't the case. For starters, she wouldn't be able to work with Lightning Bolt any more—and maybe not with anypony. Surely Lightning would tell their supervisor why Ditzy couldn't be her partner anymore, and word would get around. She could lie—she could pretend that she hadn't had it done—and that would work for a while, but then she'd have to come up with some reason why she'd lost the foal. She vaguely remembered from her sex ed class that miscarriages happened sometimes. The library might have books about it, and she could learn enough to come up with a good story. But even if she did—she'd feel terrible first lying about keeping the foal, and then again lying about losing it. When the weather team found out about those lies, they'd want nothing more to do with her.  Not ever. Plus, there was no way to compartmentalize. While Mother preferred that the three tribes stick to themselves, there were too many ponies here that were loosely related to each other, and when they got together they gossiped. It might take a while for her lies to be revealed, but eventually everypony would know. The more she thought about it, the more she came to understand that at best she'd be postponing her parents' inevitable discovery by a few months, and maybe not even that long. She looked down at her belly regretfully. If only I'd known before that there were safe ways to prevent foals. It was too late now—the clouds were out of the factory. Ditzy looked up at the sky, and thought back to all the things Lightning had taught her. Things about making the best of what you were given. The cloud metaphor was apt, she decided. They didn't always get what they wanted, but they could deal with whatever they were given. Hadn't they done it time and time again? I'm not old enough to raise a foal, she thought. I don't know how. I don't even have a house. I don't even know how to live by myself. She looked at the thatching under her. Cherry knew. She was down in the yard, her muzzle in the dirt, working in her garden. They'd never learned anything like that in school. Cherry had probably been in her family's garden as soon as she was out of diapers, and she'd been working on their farm every single day of her life since then. She knew all about plants and trees and weeds and things like that. She knew how to fix stuff—all Ditzy knew was how to form clouds, and how to fly marathons. Neither of those skills seemed terribly useful at present. She was coming to realize that school hadn't prepared her for life. Ditzy stood up and extended her wings for the short trip back to the ground. She was good at gliding, at least—another skill which didn’t help with her current predicament—and she landed right next to Cherry. “Hey.” Cherry spit a mouthful of weeds out. “Hey, Ditz.” “I was thinking.” Cherry nodded. “You said,” she paused, choosing her words with care. “You said that you don't think Berry Punch is a good mother.” Cherry nodded again. “But you and Golden Harvest both went over to her house to get it ready for spring. And visited her in the hospital, and stuff like that. So you weren't mad at her. You're willing to help her out, even if you don't agree with her raising the foal.” “Look, I'm going to speak my mind, but don't tell Berry I said this.” Ditzy nodded. “Cross my heart and hope to fly.” “If she had a stable family, I think she'd do all right. But Cormano's useless. I doubt he'll last a year, and he won't motivate her to do anything. He's going to see that it's a lot of work raising a foal, and she's not putting out like she used to, and there are greener pastures. It wouldn't be the first time for him, not from what I've heard.” She picked the weeds back up and carried them over to a basket. “For what it's worth, Goldie doesn't agree with me. I hope she's right, and I'm wrong.  Because she is my friend, and I don’t want to see her get hurt." Ditzy grabbed a mouthful of weeds and headed over towards the basket. For a while, the two mares worked in silence. For the pegasus, it was a new experience. She'd never done any gardening before. After each basket got full, they carried them off to Cherry's compost heap and dumped them on top of the pile. When they were all done, Cherry showed her how to turn the pile so that the new plants would start decomposing more quickly. It was a different kind of work from clouds, and the feeling of mud in her coat was sort of refreshing. It felt like she'd accomplished something worthy. “When you got your homestead, did you ever think you weren't ready?” “All the time,” Cherry admitted. “The first year, especially. I was afraid that the trees weren't going to make it through the winter. I had to do a lot of stuff I didn't want to in order to get by, but my parents said if it didn't work out I could—“ She gave Ditzy a suspicious look. “I could give it up and move back with them.” She sighed. “Look, Ditz, it's getting late, and if you want to make it home without your mom asking too many questions, you'd probably ought to head that way. No matter what you do, I'll stand with you as a friend.” “You won't tell anypony, will you?” “Not until you say so.” Cherry motioned with her hoof. “Come on, let's get the mud off your fetlocks.” •        •        • Once she was clean, Ditzy bade her goodbye and flew off, circling Cherry's farm once before heading towards town. Rather than fly directly home, though, she took a path towards the hospital. She landed on the roof and stared at the neat rows of stones behind the hospital. She stood there for a very long time.