They puttered into the city in the early evening. AJ had never liked ‘em. Smaller towns held a certain warmth to them. A small promise that the people in them matched her stride for stride: hard working, diligent, upfront with their beliefs. Just good, honest, God-fearing types.
She didn’t have that belief in the city. No matter how much the streets were cleaned up and polished, there always felt like there was a certain… grime underneath. A shadow that sucked the life out of people amidst the parties and drinking, that crushed them, bit by bit as their dreams were buried underneath the mundane factory jobs.
She admitted that maybe she made it a bit over-dramatized, a habit she had maybe picked up a hair from Rarity when the three of them ran around, but the principle was the same. A big city like this was a nice place to visit, but she’d be damned if she’d ever want to live here.
“We close?” AJ asked.
“Well, we’re in the city, aren’t we?” Dash replied with a rise of her shoulder. Not even needing to look over to the woman to know AJ wasn’t amused, Dash nodded. “Yeah. Just a couple of blocks now.”
A few minutes later, they came to a small ice cream shop. A real mom and pop setup. Fairly small, with white wooden walls and a single glass door. A hand-written sign out front said simply, ‘Cakes.’ Below that, another sign proclaimed that ‘Yes, we’re open!” Dash pointed to it.
“Bingo,” she said.
The farmer looked to the simple building, then looked around it, trying to make sure she was staring at the right spot.
“That?” AJ asked.
“That,” Dash agreed. Though instead of pulling into the packed parking lot, she moved one building down, to a rather innocent looking apartment complex. Killing the engine, she looked over to AJ and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Do me a favor. I need you to make sure Pinkie’s not all wet.”
“You said she was solid, Dash,” AJ replied.
“Like a rock,” Dash quickly answered, giving a flap of her hands. “I just want to make sure the dame’s not opening the doors for just anybody.” She gave a small tilt of her head. “Got a little code I told her to remember to make sure people are on the up and up. Go into that apartment, go down into the basement. You’ll see a buzzer, push it. When you get a chance, tell her ‘See you next Wednesday.”
“When I get a chance?” AJ repeated.
“You’ll understand exactly what I mean when you see her. She’s got a bit of a motormouth.”
AJ raised a brow, but said nothing to that, getting out of the Raceabout and heading into the apartments.
There was nobody at the front counter, so the farmer just pressed on, heading through a door marked ‘basement.’ Tromping down the stairs, AJ came to the basement proper and walked past dozens of knick-knacks, decorations and kitsch. At the far end of the basement was a set of wide and thick double-doors. To the side of them was a small thumb-sized button, which she pressed. Behind the double-doors, AJ heard a buzz and she reached forward, pulling at one of the handles, only to find it locked.
There came a set of footsteps from behind the door after a beat and at her neck level a small slit in the door opened. A pair of bright turquoise eyes all but hidden behind a sea of pink curled hair looked out at her.
“Well, hi! You’re a new face. A new body, too, but that’s attached to the face. You don’t look like you’re from around here, but of course I know that because I’d know you if you were from around here and then you wouldn’t be new! But if you’re not from around here, it makes me wonder why you’re here, ‘cause this isn’t the kind of basement that a lot of people just wander into. I mean, are there basements a lot of people just wander into? I’ve never wandered into a basement, but maybe I’m just weird. People tell me that from time to time. What do you think?”
“Uh…” AJ trailed off, her jaw opening and closing as she tried to find what words she should say. “Yes?” she finally struggled out. “Or, uh, no, I reckon. I dunno. Are you Pinkie?”
“Yupperoni!” Pinkie answered, apparently unphased by Applejack’s uncertainty. “Wow, you can’t even see me and you guessed it! Are you one of those psychics? Ooh! Maybe that’s why you’re in a basement. Are you having a seance? Is this building haunted? I’ve never seen a ghost here, but what if there are ghosts I can’t see? I might be bumping into them all the time, and not even saying excuse me! You should let me know, I hate to be rude.”
“I’m sure there ain’t no ghosts here,” AJ answered. Then, under her breath came a mumbled, “I hope. Damn that’d be creepy.” Getting back on track, she rubbed at the back of her neck. “Uh, see ya next Wednesday?” she offered. “Dash sent me, if that helps too.”
“I still don’t understand why it’s supposed to be next Wednesday. That’s a long time not to see someone you like, and a short time to have to see someone you don’t like. I told Dashie it should be tomorrow, because then people will come back more often, and I don’t get many people here I don’t like. She just told me not to take it so literally.”
“Well, I mean, ain’t a lot of people go out ta see somebody on a Wednesday. Maybe she jus’ wanted ta make sure you’d have some time in the schedule?” AJ offered with a small raise of her hand.
“That’s true, we’re not that busy on a Wednesday. Saturday this place is jumping, and we get some crowds on Friday too. The sad sacks all come on Sunday and Monday, and I do my best to cheer them up. The rest of the nights are fun, though, because when there aren’t as many people around you have time to sit and chat, and I do like a nice long chat, don’t you?”
“Sometimes,” the farmer admitted. “But I usually like ‘em on a porch outside. An’ speakin’ of, I like seein’ more than a few inches of whoever I’m talkin’ with. Care ta open that door now?”
“Oh! Sure!” The slit shut and there came the turning of a lock. The door swung open, revealing a stocky woman with a mass of pink curls framing her face and spilling down her back. Around her head was a blue headband with a peacock feather stuck in it, and she wore a shiny pink and blue striped dress.
“Well, ain’t you jus’ a cute lil’ thing,” AJ chuckled, offering her hand to the girl, who enthusiastically took it and shook it vigorously with both her palms, stumbling AJ. The farmer was a bit surprised at the girl’s strength, and at the hard callouses covering both of Pinkie’s palms. Girl had done some hard labor at one point in her life, the small paunch at her stomach or not.
“I dunno, am I?” Pinkie grinned. “I know I’m a little thing, I mean compared to people. Not really compared to cats or dogs or rabbits, and those are probably a lot cuter. So maybe I’m not a cute little thing?”
“Well, yer a cute lil’ thing ta me. That fair enough?” AJ replied, moving her hand to her neck and moving it forward, easily placing it over Pinkie’s head. “Maybe not as lil’ as Dash, but who is?”
Pinkie’s eyes lit up. “Now, Dashie, she’s a cute little thing! But you can’t tell her that. I told her that once and she said she’s slug me if I weren’t a girl. And I asked her if she’d ever slug herself if she weren’t a girl and she just sighed and said ‘all the damn time.’ But she was in a bad mood that day, some trouble with money, and I told her she needed to get out of the city, and she said she could go stay with Applejack. So I sent her--” Pinkie’s eyes went wide. “Wait a minute, you know Dashie? You must be Applejack!”
“In the flesh,” AJ agreed with a chuckle. Her expression darkened after a moment’s pause. “Has there been anyone lookin’ fer her ‘round these parts? She’s got it bad with bread, sug. Real bad.”
Pinkie frowned. “No one comes looking for anyone around here. Not those fellas, and not if they wanna come back here at least. I heard they’ve been bothering Rarity Belle, but she won’t tell them anything. So as far as they know, Dashie just flew away.” She illustrated with a hand flapping up to the sky.
“One thing I’ll give her: Belles know how ta keep their lips sealed,” AJ agreed with a nod. “Jus’ hope they don’t try ta put the screws on her.” Shaking her head to try and dispel those thoughts, she instead cocked a thumb behind her, towards the stairs. “We got yer hooch, by the way. Where ya want us ta move it? Through here?”
“You got it, sister!” She put a hand to the side of her mouth and whispered loudly, “Just do your best to look like you’re moving something.”
“We’ll get that rounded up in a jiffy.”
AJ set the crate down on the well-polished counter, hearing the jars inside clank and rattle against one-another as she did it. She leaned, popping her back, and took stock of the speakeasy.
Considering how hidden the place was, it had itself some class, could stand up to even the prettiest bar that operated out in the open. Comfortable, cushioned bar stools. Solid and beautiful oiled wooden chairs, and behind where a barkeep stood, a flawless mirror with intricate scrollwork across the edges. Her complaints about Dash not helping move the heavy crate died before she could voice them and she whistled in appreciation at the joint as Pinkie stepped behind AJ and Dash and shut the door leading down the long underground hallway to the apartment’s basement.
“Hell of a nice dig,” AJ remarked, stealing a glance at Pinkie. “You run it yerself?”
“Sure do, cockatoo!” Pinkie said, pulling the heavy crate down behind the counter.
“Pinkie’s the best bartender in the city.” Dash leaned against the bar. “She knows just about every cat who comes in, and she can mix up drinks that are too damn good to be healthy.”
“That a fact?” AJ questioned, accepting the challenge. She fished out two quarters from her pocket and slapped them down on the counter. “Shot fer me an’ the dame. Add a lil’ somethin’ else ta it. Surprise me.”
Pinkie grinned and looked Applejack up and down. Then she put a hand to her chin, and stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth, tapping one foot. After a minute, she got an enormous smile on her face and turned to the wall of bottles behind the bar.
Most of them were unlabeled, but she looked through them as if searching for something specific. She apparently found it, because she pulled down two bottles and sloshed them each in a shot glass. The movements seemed sloppy, but both glasses came out exactly even. Then she reached under the counter and pulled out a red decanter, pouring a carefully measured amount of liquid into each glass.
She slid one to Applejack, and one to Dash. “Bottoms up!”
AJ held out her glass to Dash in a toast, the dim light of the bar making the brown beverage within swirl and dance. “Ta yer health?” AJ offered.
“To maybe my damn legs not getting broken,” Dash replied.
They clinked their glasses together and swallowed. AJ froze, briefly speechless.
The burn was beautiful in the drink. A strong, cinnamon-inspired thing that was pleasing to taste and wouldn’t be foreign on top of ice cream. Though the finish is what made her stunned to silence.
Apple pie. The thing tasted exactly like apple pie, the same sort of drink her granny made before she went to be with God. AJ stared at Pinkie, feeling, if she was honest with herself, something she tried to be, painfully nostalgic. All from one drink.
“You know yer job,” AJ finally managed to say, looking down at her empty shot glass. “If I had the time or money, I’d probably wanna get three sheets to the wind off-a this stuff right now.”
“Told you. I don’t vouch for people unless they know their stuff,” Dash replied.
Pinkie gave a proud giggle, the open-mouthed grin she wore making her look like a mischievous sprite. She gave a small shake of her hands in front of her barrel chest.
“Well, when you have the time and money, you should come back!” Pinkie exclaimed. “I’ll even give you the friends discount!”
“Don’t be fooled. She gives that to everyone,” Dash said.
“‘Cause everyone’s my friend, silly!” Pinkie replied, raising a thumb up from her fist at the woman. She bounced along, light on her feet despite her frame, and went to a cash register at the counter, pulling out a wad of singles.
“Let’s see…” she muttered chipperly to herself, flicking the money over a thumb and counting it. “The amount of gallons, plus a little bit for gas…”
“An’ maybe a bit fer hazard pay,” AJ haggled, pointing a finger lazily towards Pinkie.
“Oh!” Pinkie exclaimed, putting a hand to her heart. “Of course! It’s dangerous doing things around Dashie after all!” The woman in question offered a ‘hey’ in protest, but Pinkie flicked two more dollars into the mix before handing the wad to AJ.
The farmer took to counting it. When she was done, she let out a low whistle. Five-hundred and twenty-two dollars. Pinkie had not only been reasonable, she had been generous on throwing extra cash their way.
I’m in the wrong line of business, AJ thought with a snort.
Putting it into her pocket, AJ nodded to Pinkie. “Pleasure doin’ business.”
“Same!” Pinkie chirped back. “If you ever want to make another run, just say so! Pinkie Diane Pie’s doors are always open for the best stuff for my best customers!”
The barroom was different from Pinkie’s. This one wasn’t quite as welcoming. There always was just a hair of tension to it, like a fight could break out in the crowd the instant there was a disturbance. Dash lit a cigarette, taking in the crowd as she rested in one of the corner booths. Her eyes were hardened, they needed to be here. They needed to be challenging, warning. Letting people know she was a predator at rest, not prey.
She had left Applejack out in the car. The farmer, as was the norm of her it seemed, protested, wanting to go inside and maybe catch the tail end of Rarity’s act, but had backed down on Dash mentioning that having someone with her might be a sign of weakness to her debtors.
The diva herself appeared on stage not a moment later, giving a wave to the crowd gathered and flashing a million-dollar smile. The tension in the crowd, while not fully dead, died considerably as they took in the woman, a beacon of bright times even on the worst day of your life, and a voice like an angel mixed in with the purr of a kitten.
“Why, good evening to all the lovely ladies and gentlemen out there! I’m pleased to be performing for you all,” Rarity said in a cultured, refined infliction that she sure didn’t gain from her years with AJ and Dash. Her eyes caught sight of Dash and her smile seemed even more earnest at the sight. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with my next score, so I’ll begin posthaste.”
A piano man beside her looked over, she nodded at him and began a slow, gentle rendition of ‘My Melancholy Baby,’ and Rarity’s low alto purr of it, even if Dash was more of a cat that dug swing, seemed to catch her heart in her throat. Judging by the hush that fell over the rest of the audience, they felt the same way.
Dash caught sight of a familiar face stepping through the awed crowd and she felt her mouth tighten into a thin line and reach for the wallet in her pocket.
A lean woman approached wearing a crisp brown jacket and sat next to Dash at the booth. The woman offered a smile that was curt and, maybe a hair threatening. And she leaned her chin onto her worn and calloused knuckles.
“I like it when she sings these,” the woman, Gilda, seemed to freely admit, offering a glance towards Rarity before her hawk-like eyes turned back to Dash, their amber sheen unnerving in broad daylight, almost terrifying in the half-lit ambiance of the bar and she reached down, pulling out a rolled-up smoke and then fishing out a flint-wheel lighter. Dash knew Gilda had paid big bucks to import the damn thing from Europe, and seemed to relish using it whenever she could to light up. Doing just that, she took a drag of her smoke and leaned back, observing Dash silently.
“Kinda sappy for me, but she’s always swell.” Dash shrugged.
“Faster ones don’t let her voice get as strong as slower do. She’s too staccato on quicker beats. Slow though?” She nodded as she listened for a moment, taking a puff of her smoke and savoring Rarity’s tone. “She’s one hell of a good crooner for being self-taught. Glad I caught the act tonight.”
“I’m glad you did too.” Dash nodded. “But... not so much for the singing. I got the lettuce.”
“So I guess I don’t have to break your hands,” she remarked. “Almost a shame. I figured with you running away for the night you’d not be able to cough it up.”
“Better luck next time.”
“You mean there’s going to be a next time? I figure’d you’d be smart enough to be scared straight,” Gilda remarked, holding her hand out over the booth’s table.
“Gambling’s in my blood, I guess,” Dash answered, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the bread. “Same way singing is in Rarity’s and being an asshole is in yours. I’m all about the high risks with the big payoff.”
She looked away, briefly, thinking of Applejack. In a way, the farmer was the surest bet she had ever went for. AJ was one of the few people willing to put up with Dash’s horseshit and, what’s more, seemed to thrive on it at times. There was an extra spring in her step when Dash was around, and it was a sight she liked seeing. But that wasn’t all Dash could or should bring to what they found themselves in now. She needed to show AJ she was just as hard-working and able to support the farmer as the farmer had been on supporting her. She had to pay Applejack back, with interest, otherwise she’d feel like nothing more than a damn burden to the best woman she knew. And in order to pay her back, there was no way she could go back to the farm as she was now, no matter how much she wanted to, no matter how much it felt like she needed to. She still had her pride, and that pride wouldn’t let her live like a dog at AJ’s feet. She had to stand alongside her, no matter what.
“You should learn to cut your losses,” Gilda remarked, taking the wad of cash and putting it in her pocket. “You’re not going to believe me, but I stalled for you for old times sake. I knew you’d turn up eventually, you moron. And if you didn’t…” Gilda took another long drag from her smoke. “Running wouldn’t stop me. I’d track you down and hurt you as bad as you hurt my reputation with Will’s boys.”
“Aw, you do care,” Dash answered.
“More than I should. You owe me.”
“I’ll pay you when I’m rich and flying a plane across the Atlantic,” Dash replied, watching Gilda count the bills. On nodding in confirmation that her debt was present and accounted for, Gilda leaned back, relaxing more into her chair.
“Well, business is out of the way. Maybe next time don’t be so fucking stupid,” Gilda remarked, contently watching as Rarity continued her performance. She raised a brow as Dash rose and stepped past her.
“What?” Gilda asked, “not catching the rest of the show?”
Dash gave a shake of her head. “You didn’t hear me say this, but there’s a bit of a show outside that I’d much rather catch.”
Saying nothing, Gilda watched Dash head out, content to watch the light of the stage while she sat in the dark.
They left the outskirts of the city behind them and drove into the night. Dash humming a little song to herself as they traveled up the road. AJ smiled at the woman—she seemed like the cat that caught the canary. AJ offered a smile to the woman.
“So, what’s the plan when we get home?” the farmer asked.
Dash grinned. “I was thinking about sleeping for three days straight.”
AJ smirked. “By yerself, or…?”
Dash raised her eyebrows, and cleared her throat. “Uh… I do like company, but doesn’t that mean you’ll have to play twenty questions with Mac and the kid?”
The farmer’s expression turned thoughtful. “It’s gonna have ta get out in the air eventually. Ya know I can’t keep shit from Mac or the girl. Don’t know what I’m gonna say.”
“It won’t be that tough… I’ll be back in the city before too long, and how we feel is our business, right?” Dash put a lot of obvious effort into trying to say the words effortlessly.
“Yer… yer goin’ back?” AJ finally managed to ask.
“Yeah.” She stared at the road. “When I’m out from under this, I… gotta go back, right? Try to find a way to make some lettuce, get a car, maybe learn to fly? I mean, you know how I feel about you, but…” She swallowed and didn’t finish the thought.
“Yer like a damn bird,” AJ remarked. It took her a moment to continue, and there was obvious hurt in her, even as she tried to smile. “Ain’t right ta cage ya. Ya got wings fer a reason, I guess.”
Dash rubbed the back of her neck. “Look, I’m not pretending it’s easy. I used to, and… I shouldn’t have. It hurt you, and that was lousy of me. It’s not easy, AJ.” She glanced over, her eyes seemed to be asking for something, but AJ wasn’t sure what. She was pretty sure Dash didn’t know herself.
“Hell. I ain’t easy on this either. Anyone else you could jus’ scoop up an’ take somewhere. I’m too rooted, sug. Family. The farm. I love that lil’ town, Evelyn. It’s where I need ta be, ya know? no matter how much I like the road sometimes too.”
“I love that about you, Jacqueline. You’ve got a life, and it’s perfect for you, and you’ve got me…” Dash grinned at AJ. “Can’t beat that, right?”
“A one-two combo, sug,” she replied. “I jus’ kinda wish… I dunno, hell. That I could have my cake an’ eat it too, I reckon. Selfish, but that’s jus’ how it is.” She looked up to the sky and sighed. “But there’s always tomorrow. I got my ticket. Now I jus’ gotta wait fer that damn ship yer steerin’ ta pull inta shore.” She gave a poke of Dash’s shoulder. “An’ when ya get that plane? Better be sure there’s a second seat in the thing fer me.”
Dash smiled. “It’s got your name on it.” She was quiet for a few moments. “AJ? What if you didn’t have to wait? I mean, not the whole time, at least.”
AJ shuffled a bit in her seat, turning to look at Dash. “What ya mean, hun?”
“Well… It’s probably dumb, but… when I got to the city, I was going to save up for a car of my own. I could fix it up and race it, and get out to see you easier, and get to the airfield. But…” Dash bit her lip, then glanced at Applejack. “What if instead of a car, I save up for my own garage back home?”
AJ beamed. “Ya know, that’d be a good idea, even if we weren’t… you know. I hear people complain’ all the time ‘bout havin’ ta lug their junk next town over. You could drum a pretty penny up that way.”
“I hope so! I still need to get my hands on a set of wheels of my own, and I still wanna be able to get out to the airfield. But being my own boss would be swell.” She grinned, lost in some daydreams. Eventually her face fell a little. “It’s still gonna take some doing, though. There’s a lot of equipment I’m gonna need, and it’s not cheap.”
“Well. Good thing I can give ya a hand with bread, sug.” She bridged her hands together and leaned back in her seat. “As smooth as we’re gettin’ on talkin’ our way outta trouble? A few more hooch runs’ll be easy money. Hell, if anythin’, next time we take two crates to yer girl.” She laughed. “Though maybe next time we don’t end up drivin’ this thing as naked as when we came inta the world.” A pause. “An’ next time we skip the part where I get my damn ass cut up by thorns.”
Dash giggled. “Well, if you insist, but I thought that part was hilarious.” She shook her head. “I dunno, AJ. I don’t want you getting into hot water over me. We had some close shaves there, and if you do this regular the feds might start to catch on. I wanna be with you. That’s gonna be kind of rough if you end up in the pen.”
Applejack shrugged. “I ain’t quittin’ my day job ta do this, Dash. Feds’ll only catch on if we stick to a schedule. Otherwise we’re jus’ two girls visitin’ the big city on occasion. We keep eveythin’ aces in how we act? Won’t be no reason for ‘em to look our way.” She nodded, all but deciding on the course of action already. “Ya know, we could always use a new barn at the farm too, if we’re talkin’ ‘bout savin’ up some money. Can’t let you have all the fun on it, after all.”
Dash stared at her for a few seconds. “You’re trying to talk me into bootlegging? I’m pretty sure this isn’t how it’s supposed to go down. You sure you didn’t bump your head last night? I know we got a little wild there…”
“A little?” AJ asked with a raise of her brow. “We did more in one night than most do all their lives. Maybe I got a lil’ taste, an’ wouldn’t mind a few bites more.” She scratched at her nose. “What happened last night aside, I ain’t a fan of people tellin’ me what I can’t an’ can’t do, if it don’t harm noone. That includes Uncle Sam. If he’s waggin’ his finger at me, then, well…” Smiling, she shrugged. “I didn’t have much of a rebellious phase as a teen, maybe it’s hittin’ me now, sug.”
“Well then, dollface, I think you found the right gal,” Dash said, throwing her arm over the back of the seat and giving Applejack a squeeze.
And under the moon’s light they drove, the twinkling stars above them pointing the way home.