Human Rituals
Ghost in the Machine
(1 Year, 2 Months Since Arrival)
“Neig-g-g-gh! You’re missing a great party!” Pinkie Pie burst into my room like the rubberized super ball that she was. “New Year’s only comes once a year you know!” she said, stretching a party-hat band under my chin and shoving a kazoo in my mouth.
“N-not right now, Pinkie,” I husked softly, sitting hunched on my bed.
“You sure?!” she gasped. I rarely turned down Pinkie’s special occasion parties. “Hey, wassamatter?” she sat on her haunches next to me, throwing a comforting arm about my shoulders. “Your eyes are all puffy and stuff!”
“They are not!” I huffed, but a fresh tear went down my right cheek and a cursed. Twilight’s translator bracelet grunted, but didn’t translate that bit.
“You can tell Auntie Pinkie,” she said, sidling closer. “I hate it when my friends are super sad like this. Tell me?” Sighing and having no one else to spill my guts to, I showed her my cell phone. I’d only turned it on a few times since I’d arrived. I’d not shown it to Twilight, for fear she’d try to take it apart. When my MP3 player had died, she tried to re-juice it with magic and it had burned up in an instant. “What’s this?” Pinkie turned it over and over. It was an old cell phone, the sort that only made calls and got texts. No emoji’s or internet or anything like that, just a regular phone. Call me old fashioned.
“It’s a cell phone,” I said. Twilight’s bracelet buzzed, having no context of translation. I sighed and looked at the ceiling, trying to think of another way to say it through my tears. “It’s a… speaking stone. I used to it talk to folks that were far away from me. No matter how far. But it hasn’t worked since I got here.” Pinkie gave it back. Somehow through her hoof she could tell it wasn’t very well held-together. I’d worked in printing press factories, dropped it on the pavement… it was old and beat-up. The battery clip panel was brand new since I’d shattered the old one. “The power is dying.” (Don't ask me how it lasted so long, I honestly could not tell you. I had one of those old 'brick' cells that lasted forever in the battery area...)
“You don’t seem like the sort to cry over a speaking stone not working anymore,” Pinkie said a little delicately, offering a cautious but still wide smile.
“You… wanna hear something from it?” I asked.
“Sure!”
Moving slowly, I un-clipped Twilight’s translation band. Lifting her hoof gingerly, I put it about her ankle. She looked at me questioningly. I pressed buttons as fast as I could. The LOW BATTERY warning was still flashing red. Not long now. This was probably my last chance for this anyway. After a time, I lifted it to her ear and leaned so I could hear too:
“Hi honey! I’m gonna be a little late tonight! This snow is just awful! Traffic’s locked up. Get dinner ready for me? I’m starving, hahaha! Be safe out there today, I love--!”
The phone died just then. We sat there in silence. I flipped it closed and slowly leaned to set it on my bedside table. It was just a piece of plastic and metal now. I sank down, my head in my hands. Pinkie stroked my back a few times, carefully leaving my translator band. “Was that your very special some-hyoo-man?” she asked softly. Her mane slowly sagged down about her shoulders, an amazing ability I’d only seen a few times.
“My fiancé, yes,” I nodded. “She probably thinks I’m dead or run away from her or something by now, it’s been almost a year. And even if and when I go back, she’ll never believe I was lost in another dimension full of magic talking ponies before coming back to her. Not for one second.”
Pinkie scratched her head, not used to such seriousness. Perhaps I’d shown the wrong pony my Briana’s final message. Maybe Rarity would’ve appreciated it more. I just wanted ONE of them to hear it, sort of, down deep in my heart. So they’d know she was real, that what we had was real and I had something to look forward to when I finally went home someday. “I’ve never had a very special somepony, but…” she trailed off for a time. “You seem like a nice hyoo-man. If it were me, and I thought there was some chance you’d come home, I’d definitely wait.” She smiled, patting the top of my head like a puppy. (So that’s what that was like…) I smiled, drying my snot on my sleeve. “If you don’t wanna be social tonight, I’ll save you some cake, okie?”
“Thanks, Pinkie,” I nodded, smiling. “I didn’t mean to drag you down with the ghost in the machine.”
“What’s that?” Pinkie asked gently as she made for the door.
“It’s uh,” I paused to sniff, then picked up the wallet-sized picture by my bedside. “It’s a human thing… a recording. You know, of someone who’s gone. Someone you can’t reach,” I paused to blow my nose. “That’s prolly not even the right phrase. ‘Ghost in the machine’ usually means it’s a recording of someone that’s dead. But you get what I mean. Th-thanks for listening,” I dismissed her as politely as I could so she wouldn’t see me blubber.
Pinkie gave me an odd smile and slid away to rejoin the others at the New Year’s party. I thankfully wasn’t disturbed for the rest of the night. Four or five years is a long time to wait and not even hear a loved one’s voice.
=-=-=-=
“Hi honey! I’m gonna be a little late tonight!” Spike’s ear fins perked and I dropped my breakfast plate. It shattered into a thousand pieces as my heart skipped a beat. “This snow and ice is just awful! Traffic’s locked up.” I stampeded past Spike and out into the hallway. Where was it coming from?! “Get dinner ready for me? I’m starving, hahaha!” My Briana’s laughter rang through Castle Friendship and drew me to Twilight’s Human Studies room. I flung the doors open with a crash, sending an avalanche of papers flying all over the room. “Be safe out there today, I love--!”
Pinkie and Twilight stood in the room, Pinkie hooked to one of Twilight’s machines. She was wearing a silvery helmet covered with colored lights and wires, all connected to a rather normal looking phonograph. The record spun, silent now. They stared at me. I stared back. I could hear Spike scampering up the hallway, complaining about my long legs and his stubby ones.
“Wh-what did you do?” I asked softly. “Pinkie I showed you that in confidence! How could you?! That wasn’t for Twilight to study!”
“No its not,” Twilight said softly, lifting the phonograph need back to its starting position. “Pinkie said your uhm… speaking stone?” she checked for a moment and the pink mare nodded. “She said your speaking stone went dead forever and that there was a message from your fiancé on it. So I pulled it out of her memory of listening to it and put it on this record for you.” She set the needle down again.
“Hi honey! I’m gonna be a little late tonight! This snow is just awful! Traffic’s locked up. Get dinner ready for me? I’m starving, hahaha! Be safe out there today, I love--!”
I slowly fell to my knees, a great rush of sobbing bursting out of me before I could stop it. “I-is it right?” Twilight and Pinkie both dashed forward to keep me from hunching over onto my face. “Pinkie only heard it by proximity of your speaking stone and the translator band, we only hear gibberish right now.” I nodded pathetically, taking off my band and putting it rudely over Twilight’s horn. I buried my face in Pinkie’s chest while Twilight replayed the message again. Her face softened at the simple, everyday message one would get from one’s intended. She put the band back over my limp wrist. “She sounds like a nice mare, Neig-g-gh,”
“But… but how?” I whispered, pulling the dead brick out of my pocket I’d only put there out of habit. (Twilight’s eyes raced back and forth across it.) “I’ve had this the whole time.”
Twilight smiled proudly about herself, puffing up like a big smart peacock. “Well first I localized the memories in Pinkie’s mind for the past twenty-four hours, locking into her habitual auditory synapses and withdrawing that imprint from her short-term memory I made a binary sound track for the--” Pinkie put a hoof in her mouth.
“It’s magic, Neig-g-g-h,” the pink mare said softly.
“O-of f-fucking course it is,” I mumbled into her shoulder as I squeezed her tight. Twilight’s bracelet buzzed at my swearing, but the two mares could guess at that one. I played the message again after Twilight had shown me how the record player worked.
Spike reached the room at last and I put the band on him so he could hear it too. “She sounds nice!” he smiled when I got the band back.
“She is,” I smiled. “I don’t know what to say,” I sank back down to my knees to hug Pinkie and Twilight in my arms.
“Say thanks!” Pinkie piped.
“Thank you. Both of you,” I said, squeezing them both again.
When at last I had gathered my dignity and huffed out a cleansing breath, the record was put in a protective sleeve and Twilight promised me my own record player for my room. Then she stared at me. I smiled, rolling my eyes and handing over my cell phone. Twilight squee’d in delight, flipping it open and playing with all the buttons. It was dead, but thirty seconds hadn’t passed before she’d started taking it apart and squeeing over it even more.
I spent New Year's day with Pinkie Pie. She's very good at cheering folks up.