//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: Together, They Fight Crime // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// It begins with, ‘I know a place…’ Sitting at his desk, Yam tried to recall the Hymn of Equestria. He struggled with the memorisation of the song. He always sang it wrong and could never quite remember the words, no matter how much he tried. “I know a place, where the earth ponies race”—Yam paused, he was an earth pony, so he should remember this part—“the pegasus ponies fly and the unicorns pace…” His words trailed off as he looked up at his teacher with a hopeful expression. Very good, little Yam! Drats! He couldn’t remember the rest. He didn’t like the Hymn of Equestria very much, it was a song about ponies, and ponies only, and there were lots of other creatures in Equestria, like donkeys. Or burros… “Yammy, wake up, we’ll be in Las Pegasus soon!” Snorting, Yam was jolted into wakefulness by the stench of cows. He let out a wordless mumble, and half blind from sleep, he groped his companion. Once he had a good grip on her, he pulled her closer, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the feeling of her warm body against his. She snorted, then said, “Always such a grabass.” There was a soft touch against his face and he felt his mane being brushed away from his forehead. He risked cracking one eye open and had a look around. He could feel himself being rocked from side to side as the train trundled down the tracks. “The unicorns pace, concerned with the burden of us all,” Yam mumbled in a somewhat coherent manner. “What?” Azure asked. “Oh, nothing, I was dreaming,” Yam replied. He opened his other eye. “Why is it that the unicorns pace from having all this concern for the rest of us?” Azure blinked at her companion, confused. “Nevermind.” Yam let out a long, whining yawn that turned into a wicker. The past few days had been confusing ones. To save money, they had jumped onto a livestock train to Las Pegasus. There hadn’t been much to eat. It depressed him, how cows traveled, stuffed into boxcars and left with very little food or water. Ponies justified it by calling cows a ‘lesser’ species. Giving something the label of ‘lesser’ just washed away all of the guilt and made everything better. Of course, they also tried to give the same title to donkeys—and burros—because it made them easier to exploit. “Baby, I’m sorry,” Yam said to his companion. “For what?” Azure Serape asked. “For being poor. For dragging you into my terrible life. For all of this.” There was a snort from Azure. “I am here because I want to be here, and don’t you forget that, Yammy.” Reaching up, she patted the side of the earth pony’s face. “We do good things. I am committed.” “You really are the best—” Yam was silenced by Azure’s hoof coming to rest over his mouth. “I know.” She smiled. “So, what is our plan?” “Plan?” Yam’s ears ears stood up. “Plan? There is no plan.” “So… we go to Las Pegasus, wait for your talent to kick in, have a look around, and start asking questions?” The burro’s long ears twitched as she spoke. She leaned in closer to Yam’s muzzle, breathing on him, and gazing into his eyes. “Yeah.” Nearby, a cow mooed and stomped upon the wooden slats that made up the floor. Dung and bits of old hay fell through these slats, leaving behind a trail of litter and debris along the train tracks. If Yam or Azure would have looked down, they would have seen the ground racing past beneath them. “I want to give you a better life,” Yam said in a low whisper. “You deserve it… you deserve to have a big kitchen where you can be happy and you deserve little fat foals running around, calling you ‘madre.’ I’m a bum.” “But you are a bum that does the right thing.” Azure leaned her head down and rubbed her cheek against Yam’s muzzle. “Sometimes, the nice guy gets the girl, Yammy, but that doesn’t always mean they get the happy ending.” Yam’s stomach growled, and Azure’s stomach gurgled in reply. “It won’t always be this way… now come on, we need to get ready so we can jump out of the train car before it pulls into the rail yard. We don’t want to get caught, Yammy.” Azure Serape let out a grunt as she cinched the strap of her saddlebags with her teeth. As far as earth ponies went, Yam wasn’t very strong, he certainly wouldn’t have lasted very long on a farm, and he became strained even under light loads. His strength had gone to his keen mind and his powerful, if subtle magical talent, leaving him physically weak. They were dressed as tourists visiting Las Pegasus. Yam was wearing a well made trilby hat constructed from palm frond strands along with a terrible, tacky, torturous upon the eyes tropical shirt that was a bewildering shade of bright orange, and covered with cartoonish tropical fruits dancing with one another. She couldn’t deny it, Azure found him handsome when he wore his tacky shirts. As for herself, she wore a tasteful, but colourful, pastel purple pillbox hat that had a peacock feather for decoration, and that was it, other than her saddlebags. She didn’t like wearing shirts, dresses, tunics, or clothing in general when wearing saddlebags, the fabric bunched up and rubbed beneath the straps in the worst way. In front of them were the train yards, an endless jungle of rails, train cars, locomotives, savage hobos, drunken hobos, stoned hobos, as well as colourful, poetic, and sometimes philosophical hobos. Beyond the railyard was Las Pegasus, the city of sin. Looking in its general direction filled her with fear and loathing. “We have a little bit of money… we should try to find something to eat.” Yam nodded in agreement at Azure’s suggestion. “Maybe we can find some nice burros and get some tamales—” “Just what is it with you and tamales, anyway? You are the tamale-ist eating earth pony I’ve ever seen.” Azure flicked her tail a few times to let the flies know that she meant business and focused her gaze upon Yam as he shrugged. “I like tamales.” “And you like burros.” Azure’s stern gaze softened and something almost like a smile spread over her delicate muzzle. “You’re a strange one, Yammy.” “I know.” His muzzle crinkled. “We should get moving. I’m feeling a strong tug. We have a lot of ground to cover. But first, tamales. We gotta find some tamales. I am going to use my talent to help me find some tamales.” The streets of Las Pegasus were searingly hot and could cook a pony’s frogs if one stood in one place for too long. There was an odd amount of humidity here, for being a desert city. The city’s many fountains left a fine mist in the air, which turned the oppressive heat into a miserable, sodden force of nature. Many of the restaurants and hotels promised air conditioning with big, flashing neon signs. Some of the more expensive cabs even had air conditioned interiors, a marvel of modern society. Unlike Manehattan, which had cabs pulled by earth ponies, most of Las Pegasus’ cabs were pulled by pegasus ponies, and the cabs flew through the air, using the streets as landing strips. Cabbies forced to walk the streets had to wear protective shoes to protect their frogs from the tarmac, which could sizzle an egg. Mirage-like waves of heat rose from the massive air conditioners that cooled the buildings, adding even more heat to the ambient air temperature, which, along with the high humidity, made the heat feel hotter. The Real Feel™ temperature was over one hundred and twenty degrees. It was a magnificent city made possible by industrialisation and modernisation. Water was piped in from other places, turning the desert into an oasis. Food was grown in temperature controlled greenhouses so that the plants wouldn’t wither on the vine. A loss of power or water however… and the city would collapse in no time. It was not the sort of place that could sustain the lives of over a million inhabitants. Of course, Yam and Azure didn’t head for the center of the city, but remained on the outskirts… A copper bell rung as the door opened. A rush of cool air hit Yam and made him pause. He sniffed. This was certainly the place. He found himself in a small room, a little alcove, and there were stairs leading down, down into the restaurant proper. Azure gave him a shove and he got moving. He could hear the heavy wooden door shutting behind him. He went down the wooden stairs, down into even cooler air, and he shivered as the delightful air mingled with the sweat evapourating from his pelt. It was like an icebox deep down in the ground of this adobe building. Dull red terra cotta tiles spread out before him and he could feel their coolness against his tortured frogs. He let out a sigh of contentment as he looked around. He saw worried, fearful faces staring at him. Burros, all of them. “What?” Azure snapped as she made her way into the room. “He’s one of us! Stop being rude and looking at him like that!” One of the burros spoke and his eyes narrowed. “Yet you carry everything—” “Yeah, because I’m a big strong mare and not because I’m his servant, you jackass!” The burro recoiled as if struck, then gave an apologetic nod. “Welcome, please, sit anywhere you like. We’re in between the lunch and dinner rush at the moment. Do make yourselves comfortable.” Yam grinned, trying to show off his winning personality. “I already know what I want… tepache and tamales!” The burro looked surprised. “I told you he was one of us,” Azure said as she rolled her eyes and began undoing her saddlebags. She shimmied and wiggled as she tugged at the strap, and it took several tries before it loosened up. She huffed and she puffed as she struggled to get free of her gear. “We also offer rooms… down deep in the cellar, if you are interested,” the burro said. “My name is Papayo and I would be honoured to have you both as guests.” Turning his head, Yam looked over at his stalwart companion. “It would be great to have a place to sleep and stow our gear, Azure.” He watched as she nodded and turning his head, he looked over at Papayo and asked, “How much?” “They are very simple accommodations, we only ask for five bits a night.” “That sounds reasonable.” Yam did a few mental calculations, knowing full well that there was no way that he and Azure could find a hotel room for that price. “I’ll pay for five nights up front.” “I will bring you a key with your food.” Papayo bowed his head. “And you, Miss?” “Tequila, tepache, and tamales.” After a pause, she added, “And a stack of quesadillas, extra queso blanco.” Free from her gear, which sat in a pile near the stairs, Azure let out a groan of relief. “I will have someburro take your gear to your room,” Papayo offered. “Do sit down, have a rest, and maybe after such a large meal, have a siesta.” “That sounds great.” Azure arched her back, making her spine crackle. Her long, almost rabbit-like ears rose and fell a few times, and her tail swished around her hind legs. “I am sweaty in all of the wrong places. Ugh.” “There are showers down in the cellar that the guests can use. All we ask is that you clean up after yourself.” As Papayo spoke, several of the burros who had been standing around made themselves busy, some vanishing into the kitchen, others began moving the pile of luggage near the door. Along with a mountain of tamales, there was also refritos and rice. Yam’s mouth watered and he didn’t know where to begin. He smiled at Azure, then worked on peeling open a tamale, something he was skilled at doing. He parted the corn husks, sniffed the rising steam, and broke the tamale open to see what was inside of it. He saw bits of blue, white, and yellow corn, black beans, tomatoes, and diced chili peppers. He began to drool. Across from him, Azure sat sipping her drink. She grimaced, then grinned. “Mezcal.” Yam’s eyebrow arched. “So, we go and we find her therapist?” Azure asked. “I think that might be a good place to start,” Yam replied. He leaned against the worn wooden table and then began to gobble down his tamale, smacking his lips and whimpering as it burned his mouth. He grabbed his mug of tepache in his fetlock, lifted it to his lips, and guzzled some of it down. “So good…” His voice was a wheeze. “I’m willing to bet that there are a lot of donkeys and burros in that place where she worked. They need labourers and janitors and cleaning staff… I should ask around and see if I can find any gossip.” Azure took another sip of her drink, her ears twitching as she appreciated the burn. “Ponies say the damnedest things in front of the workers they don’t care about.” “We’ll need to check her apartment as well.” Yam gobbled down more of his tamale, then worked on opening up another one. “If either of us get questioned by the police, do you remember my detective license number?” Azure swallowed, grimaced, then leaned over the table a bit. “Eight six seven five three zero nine—” “Jenny, you got my number…” Yam waggled his eyebrows at the love of his life.