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// 4. Convenience Stores & Swing Sets 
// Story: The Allfathers Station (2nd Person) 
// by Speedway King 
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The hum of the dryer does little to calm your nerves as you think about the mysterious Mister Marshall. Did he really know about Apple Bloom? Maybe it was just an interesting coincidence. While you normally wouldn’t care about the filly’s presence being known, something about the stranger makes you worry for her safety. Deciding to forgo the usual rule of “Never leave your laundry unattended”, you make tracks for the elevator, leaving the contents of the dryer to the mercy of the next ne’er do-well looking to score some work jeans and ripped t-shirts.

You mash the elevator call button repeatedly, as if that will encourage it to move faster in some way. When the doors shudder open, you are met once again with the eastern European trio from the day before, dressed just as loudly if not more so.

“Heeey, it’s pony man, yes?!” The leader of the group loudly asks while his two cohorts talk rapidly between themselves, sounding like a pair of squawking birds in a busy cage.

“Yeah, hey…” You quietly answer without looking at him, not wanting to deal with this right now.

“Where is little pony?”

“Not here, I’m in a hurry”

You force your way into the elevator, driving its previous occupants into the lobby. The scantily clad female gives you a venomous glare as you repeatedly push the ninth floor button, not really caring what people think of you at the moment, you only care if Apple Bloom is okay. You pace nervously like a caged rat inside the elevator, wishing the slow ascension would come to an end. The doors finally shudder open and you start for your door in an awkward half-walk, half-jog. A myriad of dark scenarios play in your head as you get closer and closer to room 921, the thoughts of Joseph Marshall being near the filly making you sick to your stomach. You fumble with your keys to open the door, cursing your anxiety until you finally force your way in, worried about what you will find.

To your surprise and relief, the Apartment remains unchanged and Apple Bloom still sits upon the couch, seeming to have not moved from her trance. You breathe a sigh of relief and lean against the wall, letting the fear-born adrenaline slowly wash away. Apple Bloom barely glances towards you from the television to speak:

“Oh, hey Todd…” She greets you in a less-than-interested manner. “Where’s yer laundry?”

“It’s still drying downstairs.” You respond, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.

You collect yourself from the wall and head for the kitchen with a desperate need to calm your nerves in the only way you know how. Taking the Scotch bottle and tumbler from the counter, you return to the couch and plant yourself beside Apple Bloom. Still feeling the effects before leaving to do the laundry, you forgo your Vicodin and simply pour yourself a glass of the amber liquid. You relax and sip your drink while you nonchalantly scratch behind Apple Bloom’s ear.

“So what’s this show now?” you ask, unable to really focus on the action onscreen.

“I dunno, somethin’ about a teenaged robo-somethin’.”

You take another sip, not really caring what’s on. Apple Bloom pulls her sight away from the television and eyes your drink.

“So whut’s that yer drinkin’ there anyway?” She asks innocently. “It looks kinda like Apple Juice.”

“It goes down like Juice, that’s for sure.” You jokingly reply, taking another sip.

“Can Ah have some, it looks tasty.”

You choke and splutter on your drink at her request.

“Uh… I don’t think you’ll like this stuff, Apple Bloom.”

“Sure Ah will, Ah love Apple Juice!” She protests in a huff.

“Look kiddo, this stuff ain’t for...uh... fillies, but what do you say we head down to the store and pick up some Apple Juice, just for you.”

Apple Bloom’s eyes light up at the proposal. She hops off of the couch and starts for the door while you finish the Scotch with a final swig, savoring it’s comforting warmth. You crick your neck and rise from the couch to join the excited Apple Bloom in the entrance. You wrap yourself in your thin jacket and knit scarf before opening the door for the little filly. She immediately darts out the door for the elevator, no doubt excited to get out of the stuffy apartment and go on an adventure.

The elevator ride goes as expected with Apple Bloom looking sick from the motion, making you ponder if you should start taking the stairs from now on.  Once in the entrance, you make your way outside into the cold, autumn afternoon. The little pony runs circles around you as you walk down the street for the nearby convenience store, too buzzed to drive. The grey overcast creates a serene shadow overhead that adds to the cold ambience of the final days of the season. In the distance, a church bell can be heard ringing, calling its followers to their weekly hour of optimistic peace. A group of teenagers on skateboards pass by, casting you and Apple Bloom a weird look that you ignore, too placid to really care.

After rounding the bend, you figure it’s time to strike up a conversation with the joyous filly, now happily trotting beside you:

“So Apple Bloom, what do you think of your new place?” You ask while lighting yet another cigarette.

“Ah love it!” She replies, turning her attention away from the city bus passing by. “Everything is so… Fancy!”

“Fancy?”

The one verb you wouldn’t expect your apartment to be described as is “Fancy”.

“Yeah, ya’ll got workin’ toilets an’ television an’ Apple Juice fer grown-ups. Ah don’t remember mah last home havin’ any of that stuff… Ah think…”

Your mind goes back to what her previous home might have been, and just who “R” was. Was he someone else who lived in the City? The letter still in your jacket pocket mentioned something about “inevitable discovery”. Was someone after him? Maybe they were after Apple Bloom.  You shake your head to remove the vile thought from your mind, wishing you never thought of it in the first place. The sight of the innocent filly trotting beside you puts your heart at ease in tandem with the nicotine in your lungs.

In time, the convenience store comes into view, like a beacon to hide you from the late autumn chill. You toss aside your filter and open the Plexiglas door for Apple Bloom, letting the noticeably chilly pony into the warm haven of preservative- laden snack foods and sensationalist magazines. A sleepy looking teenager in heavy metal t-shirt behind the counter looks up from his comic book at Apple Bloom.

“No dogs allowed…” He recites in a tired voice before going back to his comic.

“Ah’m not a dog, Ah’m a pony!” The filly shoots back, looking noticeably irritated

“Whatever…”

You ignore the obviously uninterested clerk and walk between the shelves, picking up the weekly groceries before heading to the large cooler at the back of the store. You grab an eight-pack of Apple Juice boxes and place it on the floor next to Apple Bloom.

“Here Kiddo, these are for you.”

She awkwardly picks up the package in her mouth with a smile, thanking you through a mouthful of cardboard. You take your goods to the counter and pay for them, finishing with a second pack of cigarettes and the sunday newspaper for later. You hand one of the bags to Apple Bloom for her to carry home and start back for the Plexiglas door, ready to go home.

You step out of the store to be met with a particularly nasty gust of wind that chills Apple Bloom clean through her pale olive hide.

“Gawsh, Ah don’t remember it bein’ this cold.” She states through her chattering teeth.

Thinking fast, you remove your wool knit scarf and wrap it gingerly around her neck, hoping it will give her at least a little bit of warmth. As you stand back to get a look at the newly decked-out filly, you can’t help but smile at how cute she looks in her oversized winter apparel.

“There, that should keep you at least a little warmer until I find you something better”

Apple Bloom thanks you and picks up her grocery bag, ready to go home. As you walk home in plastic forced silence, snowflakes begin to gently fall from the overcast, reminding you that winter is almost here. You take an alternate route home, crossing through an empty field used as a dog park by those more active than you. While you appreciate the irony that Apple Bloom would probably not approve of, she suddenly bolts forward with the groceries still in her mouth. A simple playground can be seen through the ever increasing snowfall, with not much more than a rusty swing set and slide that would probably fall apart if a child were to use it. You begin to remember this place, not having been here for almost six years, since you started dating her, so long ago. You remember how you sat beside your then-girlfriend on the swings and simply talked for hours on end that one autumn afternoon. You remember how you planned to take your imaginary child to this place, to show them where their parents had willed away that one wonderful Sunday.

“Hey Todd, can ya gimmie a push?”

The young, Missourian accent snaps you out of your weak-willed daydream. Apple Bloom stands beside the old swing set with a big grin on her face, the grocery bag lying beside her in the sand. You return her smile and pick her up by the sides to place her on the swing.

“Ready, Kiddo?” You ask before pulling her back.

“Sure am, make it a big one!”

You give the swing a mighty push, sending Apple Bloom into the air with a giggling fit. You can’t help but laugh along with her, feeling at peace with every push. You think back to the memories of the non-existent child you wanted and how you would to do this for them. The sight of little Apple Bloom cheerfully playing on the swing makes you wonder if your beloved wanted this to happen; to see her husband playing father to an equine child found in a subway station. Every one of your doubts, fears and obligations to society seem to blow away in wind and mingle with the ever-thickening snowfall as the minutes carry on.

“Higher Todd, Ah wanna go higher!” The little filly squeals in delight.  

With one more massive push, you send Apple Bloom higher than she has ever gone before, making her lose balance on the swing and sending her spiraling through the air. Your heart feels like it’s going to stop at the sight of the flailing Apple Bloom making progress to a very painful landing. Without even thinking, you dash for the airborne pony, hoping to catch her. With a leap that would impress a stuntman, you dive with your arms outstretched to catch the precious package, unable to judge distance with your eyes blurred by the adrenaline. You hit the ground hard, waiting for Apple Bloom to fall into your open arms, yet you feel nothing, only the cold snow graces your palms. The air is ripped from your lungs as the olive missile makes contact with your back like a pile of laughing bricks. You gasp for oxygen when the little filly rolls off of you, still laughing hysterically as if nothing happened.

“That was awesome, let’s do it again!” She looks back at you with a sudden look of worry. “Uh… Y’alright there, Todd?

“Yeah… I’ll be fine…” You choke out between gasps of air, instantly regretting your decision to be a smoker.

Apple Bloom bites down onto your jacket sleeve and pulls with a grunt to encourage you to your feet. You slowly take air into your burning lungs and pound your chest to make sure you can breathe properly before giving the worried pony a scratch behind the ears in thanks.

You look to the horizon, only to be met with a heavy veil of snow, creating the illusion that Apple Bloom is the only other life form that exists in this world alongside you. The filly seems to share the same thoughts as she nuzzles up against your leg, relieved to see you’re alright. Beyond the grey veil, a muted figure stands in the distance. You squint to make out the anomaly, but the heavy snowfall does little to help.  While you cannot tell who, or what, the figure might be, it’s motionless presence puts your nerves on edge. Apple Bloom seems to pick up on your worry:

“Whut’s wrong, Todd?” She asks with a hint of fear behind her voice.

The figure slowly begins to fade away in the snow until only you and your charge are left on the rusted playground.

“I think we need to leave…”

You quickly grab the groceries from the cold sand and start for home with Apple Bloom right behind you.  The feeling that you’re being watched pervades your mind as you make a hurried trek for the Apartment…