//------------------------------// // Paper // Story: Water Pony // by BlazzingInferno //------------------------------// Another week slipped by with little fanfare. Kev sat at the dinner table while Tam and Morning Dew went through their normal bout of pre-dinner play. Words flowed between the two of them, only half of which Kev could understand. Occasionally she’d glance his way, but never long enough for him to gauge her mood. Whatever she was thinking at this moment was as big a mystery as why she’d wave to him from the trail but still get scared if he came too close. Dana set a plate in front of him. “Dinner’s ready.” The smell of cheese, cooked vegetables, fresh bread wafted past Kev’s nose. Noticeably absent was the chicken he’d seen her chopping up earlier. “No meat?” Dana rolled her eyes and cocked her head towards his wife. “It’s not for you, genius.” “Then why’re you—” “Because waiting for you to think of something on your own is getting painful.” “Oh yeah? What do you call me buying her fruit and vegetables all the time?” “Old news. ‘All the time’ isn’t cutting it. It’s time for something bold.” Kev pushed the plate away. “She’s still a pony, Dana. It’s not like I’m trying to ask her out on our first date.” Dana pushed the plate back. “Yeah, it’s worse. You’ve been married to her for two weeks and you still can’t understand a word she’s saying.” “I don’t get it. I understand the goats just fine, so why not her?” “Why don’t you take this plate over there and try to find out?” She turned to Tam next. “Tam, do you want to help mommy finish up dinner?” Tam’s smile got even bigger. He dropped the toy that he and Morning Dew had been playing with and ran over. “Yes! Yes I help!” Dana gave Kev one more look, and nodded to the plate she’d left him. Kev sighed. If Morning Dew never trusted the food out of their kitchen again, it wouldn’t be his fault. He’d blame Dana when she starved to death. Morning Dew’s eyes got wide when she saw him approaching. She stepped backwards until she reached her own bed. He walked to the neighboring wall, sat on the ground, and held out the plate. “Here’s… Here’s your dinner. Looks like Dana made bread again.” She took a few slow steps forward and held out a foreleg for the plate. The exchange took less than a second, and at no point did hoof meet hand. She nodded her thanks and retreated to the bed. When he didn’t leave, she picked up the slice of bread and took a bite without ever taking her eyes off him. The sounds of Tam and Dana laughing in the kitchen made Kev shift and frown. Once again, he was missing out. “So… I can understand the goats now. I guess that’s your magic.” She nodded. “Sorry I didn’t bring home any apples today… Half the time they’re all gone by the time I get to the market.” She shrugged. He couldn't tell if that was a sign of indifference or condolence. “If you want some other kind of fruit or vegetable, just let me know… I guess you could write me a note or something… If you want me to stop buying you food, that’s fine too. I’m just trying to… you know…” He didn’t know how to finish. ‘Be a good husband’ didn’t sound right. ‘Be nice’ didn’t either. She stared at him. For better or worse, he had her undivided attention. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m trying to make things as nice as I can for you. I know I’m not great at it or anything, but… I’m trying. I want us to be able to talk.” She nodded and softly spoke her strange words, words that he was beginning to think he’d never understand. He hung his head and sighed. “I guess I still need to try harder.” --- Kev stared out his office window. Late afternoon sunlight bathed the mountainside, save for the shadowed entrance to the mine. Neglected paperwork sat in front of him, and the phone’s plastic cord was curled around his finger. “Why can’t I understand her? I swear I want to.” He wouldn’t get to go home for another hour, not unless he found a reason to close the mine early again. Excusing the last premature closure was a lot harder to do on paper than he’d expected. The office’s flimsy door rattled as someone knocked on it. Kev jumped up, slid his papers into a neat stack, and ran for the door. Nobody ever bothered him in the office, not unless something was wrong. The tall, slender minotaur on the other side of the door wasn’t one of his workers, and couldn’t possibly be mistaken for one. Instead of a helmet and a reflective jacket, he wore a suit and tie. Instead of a pickaxe, he carried a briefcase. “Good afternoon, Mr. Kev.” Kev stepped back. “Mr. Tanner, from… corporate headquarters? What brings you all the way out there?” Tanner stepped into the office and dusted off his jacket. “I was in the area, and decided it’d be best to deliver a bit of news in person. May I?” It took Kev a moment to notice Tanner’s pointing hand. All he could think of was the pile of ties gathering dust in his closet, the reflective orange vest he was wearing, and the miles of lonely road between them and civilization. There was no such thing as ‘just being in the area’ here, unless Tanner had a habit of talking to cacti. That didn’t matter though; what mattered was his pointing at the office’s single chair. “Oh, right. Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll stand.” “Thank you.” Tanner sat down and set the briefcase on the desk. He neither smiled nor frowned. If he was pleased that Kev kept a tidy office, or displeased that he hadn’t handed him a glass of imported water, his expression gave no indication. He set a hand on his briefcase and studied the collection of jeweled rings on his fingers. “I’m not in the habit of sugarcoating things, Mr. Kev. I’m not paid to mince words.” “That’s fine. I’m sure you’ve got a schedule to keep.” One of the briefcase’s twin clasps snapped open. Tanner’s eyes moved to the second clasp. “Corporate has decided to close the mine, effective immediately. All non-executive personnel, which in this case only excludes you, are being let go.” Kev legs almost gave out. “What? B-But our gem production is better than ever! Every time I talk to corporate, they tell me what a good job we’re doing out here!” The second clasp snapped open, and Tanner nodded. “Yes. That’s all true. Unfortunately, your success isn’t aligned with the rest of the economy. The market for gems is crashing, Mr. Kev. Metals are driving our country’s industrial future, and this mine’s ore production has been steadily falling for years. The Finance Committee conducted an extensive evaluation, and determined that shuttering the mine is the most financially prudent move.” “But… The village… The mine is the only reason anyone even lives here. All my workers… What are they supposed to do?” The briefcase creaked open. The padded interior was lined with white envelopes, each one with a handwritten name on the front. Tanner thumbed through them until he found one with ‘Kev’ written on the front. “Everyone being laid off is being given a generous severance package: six weeks’ pay.” Kev snatched the envelope when it was offered to him. “It won’t matter if it’s six months’ pay! There’s nothing else here; you’re forcing an entire town of families to pack up and move!” “They’ll all have to move anyway. Once we stop paying the Magistrate, he’ll move away and officially disincorporate the town.” “You—” Tanner slammed the briefcase closed. “Consider your next words carefully, Mr. Kev. I commend your loyalty to your subordinates, but you need to think of your own family as well. As I said, all non-executives are being let go. You are still employed, and will be relocated. You have a family, I presume? They’ll be relocated with you.” Kev tried to smooth out the envelope that he’d been crushing in his fist. “I’ve got a sister, a nephew… a wife. If I’ve still got a job, then what’s this letter for?” “Your performance hasn’t gone unnoticed, Mr. Kev. The envelope contains a bonus, and instructions on how to report to corporate headquarters for reassignment. You are of course free to seek employment elsewhere, but I assure you that the corporation will ensure you and your family find a, shall we say, more comfortable place to live and a career to match.” The envelope’s flap was folded over, but not sealed. Kev stuck a finger through the opening and immediately noticed a large number, more than he’d earn in six months, printed on the check inside. “Is… Is that—” Tanner stood and held out the briefcase. “You’ll find everything you need inside. Thank you for your continued service, Mr. Kev.” Kev stared down at the briefcase, and at the hand holding it. Ripping that hand out of its socket still sounded like a good idea, although not until all those checks were cashed. An executive’s severed limb sounded like the perfect resignation notice. Instead, he offered up his own hand and let the briefcase fall into it. The weight of fifty six ruined futures, plus wives and children, tugged down on his arm. He should’ve fallen down that mineshaft instead of Jerek. “Goodbye, Mr. Tanner.” “Goodb—” The office jolted left and right, as if a giant had just kicked it off its foundation. The cheap blinds on the windows clattered to the ground, the desk slid across the room, and the two minotaurs braced themselves against the walls. The whole world rumbled for upwards of thirty seconds before finally settling down. Tanner had one hand on the wall, and the other over his heart. “What was that?” Kev grabbed his helmet off the floor and put it on Tanner’s head. “Stay in here, just in case there’s another one.” He threw open the office door and surveyed what remained of the world. The equipment racks, the huge hunks of metal that required four workers to move, were toppled over in the dirt. Pickaxes, shovels, helmets, coils of rope, and other pieces of mining equipment lay scattered everywhere. A foot-wide chasm stood between him and the mine. The massive steel bars that formed the mine’s entrance were still intact, but the plume of rock dust billowing out of the darkness spoke to the destruction that likely awaited below. Kev ran to the edge of the shadows and braced himself against the steel beams. Instinct told him to run in as fast as he could, hopefully before another family became fatherless. His training told him the exact opposite. “Ezer,” he shouted, “are you down there?” Silence was the only answer. He bellowed as loud as he could. “Ezer!” At last he saw a headlamp through the dust clouds, one too low to the ground to be a minotaur. A goat coughed some words that he could barely hear. “Boss! We hit a fault on the gem vein… big one. Sounded like we split the whole mountain in two.” “Is anyone missing? Is anyone hurt?” “Don’t know… Ezer’s doing the headcount now… Didn’t hear any screams, at least.” Kev ran back to the remains of the equipment racks and grabbed the first medical kit he could find. The contents of the giant plastic box shifted and rumbled as he ran, almost as if the box was filled with bricks instead of bandages. At this point, he wouldn’t have put it past corporate to pull that kind of a trick. Real medical supplies would cost more, after all. By time he made it back to the mine’s entrance, a long line headlamps was bobbing their way through the dust clouds. He counted them again and again, each time coming up four short of a full headcount. Ezer was the third one to reach the surface. Blood dripped down his forehead and coated his hands, and yet he pushed away a bandage when Kev offered it. He spoke between panting breaths. “We haven’t got any wounded… The whole tunnel head closed up on us… The four guys at the back… They got crushed right as we heard the ground shake…” Kev nodded. “You got everyone else out. Just sit down and let me patch you up.” Ezer’s eyebrows shot up. “The gem cart! We passed it just a hundred paces short of the entrance. We can still go get—” “Forget the gems. They don’t matter.” “But I could—” Kev grabbed Ezer’s reflective vest and forced him to sit. “They don’t matter, and we’re not going back in there!” He turned to the collection of workers standing around him. “You hear that? We’re done! I don’t care if I have to break all of your legs, nobody is going back in there for gems! Diamonds aren’t going to take care of your wives or raise your kids! Are we clear?” Fifty two, and not fifty six, sad and shaken workers nodded. Kev opened his mouth, but no words came out. He thought of the briefcase still sitting in his office, and how much worse today was about to get. “Guys… Guys… I’ve got some bad news—” A second rumble stilled Kev’s heart. Everyone ran away from the mine, and Kev hurried them along. “Go! Go! G—” And then he looked up. The rumbling wasn’t coming from the mine. The mountain top above him, the rocky, snowless peak that he’d lived in the shadow of for half a decade, was smaller than it used to be. A rock face the size a city block was rubble, and freshly carved boulders were rolling down the mountainside towards the village.