//------------------------------// // Roger Smith // Story: Interviews At The Canterlot Exchange // by billymorph //------------------------------// The restaurant of the Marriott hotel is a little beyond the strict boundary of the Canterlot Exchange. Still, the franchise hotel caters to a mostly human clientele and the decor is imported from Earth, all neutral tones and crisp white linen. A low babble of conversation fills the space, along with the bland smell of international food and even frying bacon. There are a few humans dotted amongst the crowd, those with the money to avoid Equestria’s hippomorphic curse. The majority, however, are ponies and there is much clattering of cutlery as they struggle with their forms. Roger Smith is a pegasus stallion of middling years and sits opposite me, picking at a bowl of melon balls. He keeps glancing over at his family, his wife and two pegasus fillies who have taken over a booth and are digging into a huge pile of pancakes with gusto. It seems, however, that the turquoise stallion does not share their enthusiasm. “Sorry, Sandy, I can’t imagine anyone would be interested.” I shrug, tapping my pen on my notepad. “Everyone’s got a story and I’m a bit of an aficionado. I’m writing a book, you see.” “Still...” Roger says, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. His wings fan out, as if he is about to take flight. “How about you tell me why you came to Equestria,” I interject, before I lose my subject. His gaze drifts to his family. The two young fillies are about ten and twelve, the eldest blue maned and blond coated, the younger blue with a blond mop. Much to their mother’s dismay, they have a single pancake stretched between them and are worrying at it like a pair of overlarge puppies. “Well, it all started about six months ago when we saw an ad for a flying vacation.” He pauses, frowning, and then lets out a long sigh. “Actually, that’s a lie. It all started when Katie was about six and she first learned of Equestria. All little girls go through a pony phase, it’s almost like Equestria is specifically designed to appeal to them or something, but ponies stole her heart then and never let go. For years now she’s wanted to visit Equestria, so we decided to go for it. We’ve got the money, and the girls deserve a proper vacation before they’re too old to go anywhere with their parents.” Again, he looks across to the booth and his face falls. “I just don’t know what I’m going to say to them when it’s time to go home. They love it here. They love flying. I just... I just wish we’d gone to Disneyland.” “As someone who’s been, I’d advise against it. It gets slightly more creepy every year.” Roger laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, but it's traditional.” He brings his wings forward, spreading his primaries. “Though, I have to say I prefer these over mouse ears.” “You’re actually learning to fly then?” I ask. “Yeah, we’re on course for it,” Roger replies, furling his wings against his sides. “We had a directed transformation into pegasi, courtesy of the organisers, and we’ve just finished three days in Canterlot covering the basics. Next we’re flying to Cloudsdale, by airship, for a week of the advanced stuff. Then we’re free to explore Equestria by air.” He frowns. “Though I suppose for someone with wings that all must sound really mundane.” “Hey, we all went through flight-school at some point,” I point out, grinning. “Not sure I’d ever consider flying halfway across Equestria a holiday, though.” “No, I think my back will agree with you there. I already feel like I’ve run five marathons.” Roger sighs, flexing his wings. “A part of me knows I’m going to miss these feathery lumps. The bit with more sense knows they will be so sore by the end of the month I’ll be glad to be rid of them.” He looks over at the booth. By physically separating the girls their mother has managed to stop the food fight, but the elder has managed to get at least half a bottle of syrup stuck in her feathers and coat. The younger is using the distraction to hover over the remains of the pancake stack and wolf down as many as possible before anyone notices. Roger smiles, but makes no move to stop his errant daughter’s fun. “I’m not so sure Katie will agree with me,” he says, at last. “She loves this. I knew she would, and yet I’m still worried.” “You’re worried about her enjoying her holiday?” He nods, chewing his lower lip. “Irrational, I know. But I keep thinking I’m not going to get her back. Her bedroom is already hip deep in plush ponies. What’s she going to do now that she’s had her own set of wings? What’s she going to do once she knows what a cloud bed feels like, or how much spring there is to a rainbow? Will she stay?” I look over at the filly, who is struggling in vain to get away from her mother. While her wings may be strong for her age, for all her frantic flapping she can’t overcome a well placed hoof on her tail. “She’s ten,” I point out. “And in three months she’ll be eleven, then it’ll just be a few years before she’s sixteen and free to leave home.” Roger sighs. “I know, I know, it’s years away, but... Do you have kids, Sandy, or foals?” I smile, but it's a hollow thing. “No, it's never worked out. I spend a lot of my time on the road and– well, you know how that can be.” “Yeah, sometimes it seems like it’ll never happen. It’s worth it, though, for all the heartbreak.” He purses his lips. “You always worry about them. When they’re just born it’s worries about whether they’ve got a cold, or whether you’ve got them the right kind of toys. As they grow up you hope they’ll do well in school, you hope they’ll make friends and come home every day with a smile on their face. You can’t always promise that, but you try and you try and hope it works out more days than it doesn’t.” At the table the fillies and their mother have called truce. Though it seems the sisters have quite a bit of cleaning up to do in the near future. “I’m already worrying about what they’re going to do when they grow up,” Roger continues, shaking his head. “It’s only a few years until they’re old enough to think about leaving the nest.” He pauses, glances down at his wings, then rolls his eyes. “Pun unintended.” “I’ll forgive you one. It’s a little early to be thinking about college, though.” “Is it? It’s sixty three months until her sixteenth birthday and then she’s free to do anything she wants to do.” A laugh escapes him and he lays his head on the table. “I know. I know. I shouldn’t stress myself out over the future, but I do anyway. I can’t help but wonder what her life will be if she chooses Equestria. Will there still be good schools for her? Will she be able to find friends, or will she be treated like an alien freak? Will she spend the rest of her life pushing clouds around and hating choosing wings? Will she go where I can’t follow?” A long silence stretches between us. “I can’t see the future,” I admit at last. “But, I do know that you can’t stop a pony growing up and you can’t carry them forever. You can do everything in your power to help, but if they want to walk the road, you can’t stand in their way.” “Yeah...” He sighs and gazes across at his family, staring as if he’s trying to sear the moment into his memory. “I suppose you’re right.” “Heh, and don’t stress so much,” I say, reaching over the table to pat him on the back. “It may never happen. Don’t start worrying until you see the grandfoals.” Roger’s head shoots up. “Grandfoals!”