//------------------------------// // Chapter 28 // Story: Princess Twilight Sparkle's School for Fantastic Foals // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// The worst part of this whole mess was that Sumac was unable to walk on his own. He could not put any of his weight on either foreleg, meaning he was dependent on somepony else for everything, including trips to the bathroom, which was embarrassing. There was no point in complaining about it though. As he had learned from Starlight, life was unfair, but at least he was lucky enough to have friends to get him through the rough spots. He was feeling hungry, it was a persistent hunger that did not go away no matter how much he ate. His senses felt dulled, he was sleepy, but he also felt jittery in a strange way. He suspected it was the pain relieving medicine that was making him feel so peculiar. Cinnamon was napping—no doubt, he was affected by the pain relieving drink as well—and the little colt drooled all over his forelegs, where his head rested. Trixie was sitting in a chair, reading a book about magic, lost in her own thoughts. Pebble too, was reading, as she was wont to do. Sumac wasn’t up for much and he just sort of stared at the wall, thinking about all of the things he wished he had said to Olive. He was far more clever in hindsight. He had all kinds of witty things to say, biting quips, and sarcastic jabs. Sumac’s disconnected brain drifted and he found himself thinking of Pebble. She was nice, she smelled good, and something about her was… pretty. Yes, pretty. Pebble was pretty in a plain sort of way, sort of like how a carnation or a daisy was pretty in their own way, even though they were no rose. Pebble wore dresses to protect her sun sensitive skin and there was something about her dresses that Sumac liked. He wondered how much laundry had to be done because of her dress wearing. She was a pleasing chocolate brown colour, dark chocolate, dark, dark chocolate, the good stuff, the stuff that made you feel light headed when you peeled off the wrapper. Yes indeed, Pebble looked good enough to eat. Now disgusted with himself, Sumac tried to push the unwanted thoughts out of his brain as strong feelings of revulsion made him shudder. Another thought entered his brain unbidden—he had never seen Pebble’s cutie mark. He knew that she had one, but he had never seen it. It was always covered by her dress. For a moment, his addled brain thought about asking Pebble to pull up her dress so he could check out her cutie mark, but then he thought better of it. He didn’t want to be slapped. No, asking a filly to pull up her dress so you could have a look at her cutie mark was something that you did later, when you were older. At some point, he was certain he would see her cutie mark, he just wasn’t sure when. Three heavy thumps upon the door jolted Sumac from his thoughts and he realised that he had been staring at Pebble this whole time. He turned away, feeling guilty, and not knowing why. He heard the sound of hooves on the floor and saw that Trixie was about to answer the door. One ear drooped and the other just sort stayed where it was when Sumac tried to make his ears perk up. When the door was pulled open, Sumac heard a familiar voice say, “I can’t stay long, I’m real busy, but I dropped by to have a word with Sumac.” “Good… you should have a word with Sumac,” Trixie replied as Big Mac stepped through the door. Big Mac was very, very big, and Sumac felt very, very small. Smaller than usual. As Big Mac approached, he found that he could not look the big stallion in the eye. Guilt and shame consumed him and he did not like the look of disapproval he saw on Big Mac’s face. Ears now drooping, he stared down at the floor. “You a’right?” Big Mac asked. When he tried to speak, Sumac’s throat went dry and his words came out in a squeak. “I’ve been better.” “Word got to me about what you did,” Big Mac said in a soft voice that was almost a whisper. The big red pony paused for a moment and began to chew his lower lip as he blinked his green eyes. He appeared to be thinking. “Quick, Sumac, look miserable,” Pebble whispered into Sumac’s ear. He didn’t need to look miserable. He was miserable. He could feel it. Shame and misery burned through him and he felt his eyes watering as he stared down at the floor. He felt his barrel hitching and it made his shoulders ache. He didn’t want to cry—not in front of Big Mac. That would make everything worse. In fact, that would pretty much be the worst thing in the whole wide world, crying in front of Big Mac. Sumac sucked everything in and tried to hold it together. “You did wrong.” Big Mac’s words made Sumac flinch. “You did wrong and I think you know it. I heard about what you did. Now, I know all about Olive. She’s a bad one. But she’s also a filly and you, you’re not just a colt, but you’re also an Apple. For shame, Sumac Apple.” Stinging tears threatened to escape and Sumac squeezed his eyes shut. “There is no excuse for what you did.” Big Mac’s voice softened a bit more and dropped in volume. “You’re little… I get that. But what we do when we’re little plants the seeds for how we grow. Do you really want to be known as a sarcastic smart mouth that treats the mare folk poorly?” “No.” Sumac shook his head. “Look me in the eye and say that,” Big Mac said. It seemed impossible to lift his head and open his eyes. When he started to open his eyes, a few tears slipped out, and he squeezed his eyes closed right away. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, licked the roof of his mouth with his tongue hoping to moisten his mouth a bit, and wondered how he was going to do this. He felt a soft touch on his neck and he knew it was Pebble. He found his strength. He opened his eyes and allowed the tears to slip down his cheeks, and after a bit of a struggle, he managed to look up at Big Mac, who was looking down at him. He found it difficult to look into those green eyes that matched his own. “I did wrong… it felt good to cut her down and say mean things, but it was wrong.” “Is ya sorry?” Big Mac’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his head a bit. “Yes I am,” Sumac replied. “No matter how awful she is, she’s still a filly.” Big Mac’s stern expression became something a little softer, but not by much. “Be the good pony we all know you can be.” “Okay.” “Well then, I think this has been dealt with. There’s nothing left to say and I think you’ve been punished enough.” Big Mac glanced over at Trixie and waited for some sign of agreement. When Trixie nodded, he continued, “Remember who you are, Sumac Apple. Our name means something. Your father tarnished our good name. He dragged it through the mud and he made us all look bad. You don’t understand it yet, but if you go around with a smart mouth, other ponies are going to think that you’re turning out like your father, and you don’t want that. Hold yourself accountable. Do good.” “Yes sir.” Sumac managed to nod his head. The tears flowing down his cheeks seemed to relieve some of the pressure and he felt better, even though it bothered him to be crying in front of Big Mac. It just felt wrong. “Applejack wanted to give you a darn good hiding,” Big Mac said to Sumac. “It’s gonna take her a while to cool off. I promised to come over and give you a stern talking to. She’s gotta scratch her mad spot and get over it.” “I won’t do it again,” Sumac promised. “Good.” Big Mac gave the colt a half smile. “I need to be going. Next time, you treat a lady like a lady, even if she isn’t acting like one.” “Okay.” Sumac sniffled and worried about the boogers now clogging up his nose. “Goodbye, Sumac.” Big Mac turned his head. “Pebble, do try to keep him straightened out, okay?” “I am trying,” Pebble replied. “Well, just don’t give up. I need to be going.” And having said what needed to be said, Big Mac turned about, headed for the door, bowed his head to Trixie as he passed, flicked his tail, and then was gone, whistling as he walked out the door. Trixie shut the door, turned her head, looked at Sumac, and then began to walk across the room. When she reached the couch, she lowered her head, kissed him on his ear, and then nosed him against the back of his head. “I’ll get you some tissues,” she said. Lost in his own thoughts, Sumac brooded in silence. Olive was going to be a lot more difficult to deal with if he couldn’t unleash his pent up snark against her. It was wrong, and he knew it. He felt better after having let it all out. Trixie had sat on the couch with him and he had himself a good cry. “I feel like a dope,” Sumac said aloud, sharing how he felt about himself. “Admitting to the problem is always a good first step,” Pebble replied. In her chair, Trixie chortled. Turning his head, he stared at his friend, trying to think of something to say, and then he thought better of it. Running his mouth wasn’t going to help anything. One ear twitched as he held back the sarcastic reply he longed to let go of. He didn’t want Applejack to give him a hiding or for Big Mac to have another talk with him. Truth be told, between the two options, he’d rather deal with Applejack than face a disappointed Big Mac again. “I miss my parents,” Pebble said as she closed her eyes. “I miss my grandparents. All of them. I wish Pinny would come back to Ponyville.” “Where is she?” Trixie asked. “She’s off in Las Pegasus at some bowling tournament.” Pebble let out a sigh and opened her eyes. “I hope she wins. This is how she makes her bits. She has bills to pay. I don’t understand why she doesn’t take a more stable job.” “Some ponies stick to doing what they love.” Trixie’s muzzle scrunched and the mare lost herself in contemplation. She sat, silent, her eyes far away and distant, and then after a long moment of silence, she said, “Just because a pony loves something, or is even good at something, it doesn’t mean that they’ll succeed at something or be able to make a living from it. If Pinny can make a living at bowling, if she can do what she loves, she’s very lucky.” “I suppose she is.” Pebble glanced over at Sumac, then back at Trixie. “My parents love what they do. I guess they’re really lucky.” “They are,” Trixie replied, “they’re very lucky.” “Are you ever going to settle down and get married?” Pebble asked, being as blunt as her mother could be. Trixie blinked in shock and stared at the filly, but made no reply. She sat in her chair, her eyes locked on Pebble, and one ear quivered. She lifted one foreleg, reached up, and scratched her chest, right on the front of her barrel, and the faint sound of her hoof sliding over her pelt could be heard. “You’ve settled down,” Pebble said to Trixie, “the rest should be easy. Isn’t that what adults do when they’ve grown up and they settle down? Get married?” “Some do.” Trixie squirmed in her seat, shifting from one side to another, then back again. “For others, marriage was never really part of their plans. Falling in love is complicated. Well, it can be. It’s easy to fall in love, ponies do it all the time, but getting somepony to love you back, that’s tricky.” “My aunt Pinkie won’t settle down. She’s in love, and everypony talks about it, my grandmother Cloudy grumbles about it all the time, but Pinkie won’t settle down because she got hurt once. I really don’t understand what happened.” Sumac took notice. For once, Pebble was clueless about something. For all of her seemingly adult ways, this was something she had nothing to say about, no smart know-it-all comment, she had nothing. His ears perked as he waited for more to be said. “I don’t understand marriage,” Pebble said in a voice that held a hint of emotion. “Grandfather says that aunt Limestone is married to her job. Does she love her job? She always seems so stressed out about it. She gets mad sometimes and goes and smashes rocks. It doesn’t seem like a happy marriage.” “Pebble, honey, sometimes, sometimes when a pony says something like being married to their job, it’s just a metaphor—” “Why not speak plainly and just be done with it?” Pebble demanded. “It’s stupid.” “It is what it is.” Trixie shrugged. “But why do ponies do it?” Pebble asked. “Why can’t they just be in love or whatever and live together? Why marry?” “Tax reasons,” Trixie sighed, not understanding the big deal herself. “Pebble, I don’t know why ponies get married. They just do. I don’t know how the whole tradition even started. It’s just there. We’ve been doing it for so long that we’ve sort of forgotten why we do it. It’s just something that happens.” “But why so much pressure to do it?” “I suppose ponies expect other ponies to do it.” “That’s not a good reason to do anything.” “I agree.” Sumac waited for more to be said, but nothing seemed forthcoming. Pebble remained quiet and so did Trixie. After a few minutes, Trixie picked up her book and began reading. After a few more minutes, Pebble did the same, a scowl still on her face. Bored, distracted, Sumac slipped off, his brain drifting to other subjects, like wondering what Pebble’s cutie mark looked like and what she might look like without her dress. He closed his eyes, tried to imagine it, and before he realised what was going on, he drifted off into a peaceful slumber.