Last day of School

The most beautiful sound in a student’s life is last bell of the school day, but even that is trumped by the last bell on the last day of summer. Its sound was like sunrise after the first frost-free day of spring, an end to that cold blanket and the beginning of some real fun. In my class that last grinding day no-pony had been sitting down. We were surrounding the door and watching the clock quietly, like our voices might be heard over those wonderful tones of freedom! Mrs. Spendley handed our final report cards saying they are mail meant for our parents and opening them is a gross invasion of privacy, blah blah blah.

C’mon, c’mon. Gah, one minute left. Every-one else is talking about their plans this summer; camping, vacation in the Griffin Realm, Clanker says she’s going try learning Prancisian, yeah good luck with that filly. Me? I’m gonna chill out in town. Get mom to take Dinks and I to Winsdor Falls for a weekend. Maybe try walking all the way to Canterlot. I have plans too ya know.

Riiiiiiiiiiingggg. That’s it! The door swings open and we pour out of the school house galloping off in every different direction. I say goodbye to Spring and Shallow, and I knew them repeating it was all I would here from them until autumn.
Relaxing in the sun I decide to take the long route home. Bon-Bon’s Bon-Bon’s is in that direction, and she has a new freezer for the summer. Hmm, cookie dough ice cream sounds good. With rainbow sprinkles! My godmother Rainbow Dash asked for a lick the first time she saw me with sprinkles, Dinky got a kick out of it too.

Levitating my new ice cream cone I walk the roundabout way home and hear my name being called from over my head.
Looking up, “Mom?”

“Spark-ler! Why aren’t you home yet? Ms. Carrot Top should have been at her stand by now.”

“You said she could watch Dinky until 2 this afternoon.”

“I said she couldn’t. Now get home. First…” she leaned down and stole a lick of ice cream from my lunch before fling off to continue her mail route.

“Love you mom!” I called after her. I took off for home; hopefully Ms. Carrot Top wouldn’t be too upset. She got cross with Mom when she messed up, but always gave me a little leeway with my own mistakes. I haven’t told any-one but Mom how scared I am of messing up, because of my foster farther. She told me not a word of it was my fault, the same thing the caretakers at The Home told me, but I believed it coming from her. She had ran away from home when she learned she was pregnant, and how being cut off by grand-ma and grand-dad wasn’t her fault either. The difference is that they realized it and eventually wanted to be part of her life again. We talked for hours, that was the first time I told her I love her. She was just Ms. Doo then, I didn’t even consider her adopting me.

Ms. Carrot Top was reading on the couch and didn’t even realize I was half an hour late. “Good afternoon dearie. Thank you for coming home early today. I’m sure you and your friends have plenty of time now that schools out to goof off, hang out, waste time, talk about colts, all that fun stuff.”

“Uhh…sure. Your welcome.” She tosses her saddle bags over her back and would have walked out the door if she didn’t notice my face.

“Sparkler? What’s wrong? Last day of school, it’s exciting, fun. You should at least be upset about spending it watching your sister.”

“I just noticed something. It’s nothing. I’m good.” I am. Really.

“Well your sister’s asleep upstairs, and you’d do best to let her sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Well, I got a hot date with a vending stand this afternoon, have a good summer.” The door closed leaving me alone. Maybe this would be my new drag for the summer. I had one ice cream and half a walk home to myself when I could be to myself. It would still be better than last summer. Ms. Carrot Top was wrong; I don’t really have any friends.

There are some filly’s and colts at school I get along with but none of them really say much to me. Maybe I’m socially awkward, or they could be. But they do have friends. I don’t know where any of them live so it’s not like I can go visit them, and no-pony my age lives nearby. I never spoke to other foals at The Home much and half of them didn’t know I was leaving until Mom walked past them with me strutting like I owned the world.

I mean, it’s not like I really need friends is it? Mom loves me, I can take care of myself, I am learning magic, what else do I need?

Dinky is indeed asleep with Favorite curled around her. D’aww. My room is right across from hers and I drop my saddlebags into the closet and pull out my final report card for mom. I know I did well enough, I’m not worried. Might as well start making this summer better.

“Maybe I’ll bake a cake. Mom could use a hoof in the kitchen.” It was very true. I don’t know if she’s all to blame, I’ve see her burning food with the stove, but when a fire starts in the refrigerator you can’t blame that on her. First thing I do is grab a glass, filled it with water and put it by my work place. Foster father taught me proper hydration, something I am thankful for involving him.

Butter is warming on the counter top, I am mixing flour, sugar, cocoa powder, more butter, vanilla, and eggs. The oven is going, the pans are going to need even more butter, and Dinky will want to lick the spoon-Dang it! Is she still asleep?
Dropping the mixing spoon into its bowl I head down the hall into her room and she’s sniffling softly. I walk over, “Hey kiddo. You okay?”

“Sparky? Is mommy here?”

“No. She’s not home yet. Did you have a bad dream?”

<sniff>” I want Mommy.”

I wrap my fore hooves around her I tried to calm her down. “She will be home soon. I promise.” That didn’t do much for her.

“Hey. I’m making a cake. Do you wanna lick the spoon?”

“Can I!?” That changed her mood quick. She jumped out of bed and moved faster than “Auntie Pinkie.” I stay by her bed for a bit chuckling. She’s so cute-

A shattering sound came from the kitchen followed by the wails of a three year old. “Dinky!” Please don’t be hurt. Please don’t be hurt I pray running into the kitchen.

The floor was wet and Dinky sat on her haunches screaming like a banshee. She had knocked over my glass and it shattered, and now she crying so I kneel next to her.

“Oh my gosh! Dinky are you hurt?”

“Whaaa!”

I take her in my fore hooves again and she cried into my shoulder.

“There there. Shh shh shhhhh.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t. Now tell me: are you hurt?”

“No. <sniffle>”

“Okay. Good. Now you stay here while I clean this up.”

Sweeping up glass brought back bad memories I didn’t want to think about…Mom could always fly skywards and grab a cloud so we didn’t have a mop, I had to use a few body towels instead. Dinky was sitting where I left her and she seemed to calm down, now her eyes where following me around as I finished the wet mix and buttering up the pans about to go in the oven.

“Is it fancy bumpy cake?”

“No Dinks.”

“I want bumpy cake.”

“’Bunt’ cake pans take too long to butter. And I’m putting frosting between each the cakes.”

<squee> After I pour the batter, “Can I lick the spoon now?”

“Not yet.”

“Please?”

“Don’t you want a nice big cake? How are you going to get that if you eat all the batter?”

She stares at me until I slide the pans into the oven. And…”Can I lick the spoon now?”

“Here you are Inky Little Dinky.” She jumped on it like a pack of dogs on a three legged cat. “I guess you’re not interested in the bowl too? Oh well.”

She squeed again. “Pwease Sparky! Please!”

“Please what?”

“Can I lick the bowl too?”

“How about you split it with me?” I kneel down on the floor and we both dig in. No spoons. We giggled, slurped and by the end our faces were covered in chocolate. This time I levitated the spatula and scraped batter off our faces and let her lick that up too. Being a good sister meant of course I washed both our faces.

Now it was time for frosting; powdered sugar, shorting and finally that warm butter can be put to use. Butter cream frosting is one of the few dish’s mom never screws up, and it’s a household favorite. Whipping it in my newest bowl would take a while, but assuming I didn’t eat half of it before hand it would be worth it.

Dinky was sitting where she had been the whole time, it was weird to see her so still for no reason. “Do you want something Dinks?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you go play? No-one’s getting any cake until mom gets home.”

“Can I play here?”

“In the kitchen?”

“Yeah.”

“Guess I can keep an eye on you better that way. Go get your toys then.” Her toys turned out to be a twelve piece puzzle, a dinosaur and a rubix cube. I know, I know. I don’t know how to solve it myself, but that doesn’t stop her from having fun. Maybe she just likes how the colors turn. She does give it a few random turns then turns to the scrambled picture of Roy. Jr. chugging up and cresting a steep hill, turning pieces, seeing what fits where, matching colors.

She gives up on that too after a few minutes and starts running around me with her dinosaur, roaring and jumping and nipping at me. She tells me to “scream ‘cause he’s trying to eat me.” Okay, you asked for it.

“Oww! Help. Oh what a world. Oh the pain. Dnky,” I was laying it on pretty thick, but she’s three. I drop the mixing spoon again and fall onto my rump lifting my forehooves. “Save me from the monster!”

“No. He’s veg-tare-e-in. He doesn’t want to eat you.” Apparently he wants to lick my face. “Say you’re sorry for trying to eat Sparky.” He looks me in the eye.

“I accept your apology, um…” I don’t know his name.

“Petro.”

“Petro.” I nuzzle him. “Is he happy now?”

“He’s still waiting for cake.”

“Not until after dinner. Now are you sure you and don’t want to go play in the living room?”

“He’s wants to stay with you.”

“Okay. As long as he doesn’t get in the way.”

That’s when the timer rang, the cakes should be done. They did come out perfect. Now that they were cooling on the counter and the buttercream needs a little more time mixing so it works. Hmm, I’m going to need to chop some of the top off the bottom one.

“Dinky, do you want some spare cake?”

“Yeah!”

“Is this why you wanted to hang out here?”

“No. You’re here,” with her mouth full.

“So you just want to spend time with me?”

“Uh-ha. You’re my favorite sister.” I give her this look and she continues. “If I had another sister you would still be my favorite.”

I never heard that before. From the mouths of infants and babes I guess. She stills stares at me while I finish the frosting. Hmm, might as well start dinner. Baked potatoes sounds good, oh, with carrot and ginger soup. Dinky likes that idea too and continues to play and make her toy jump around roaring.

“Well who’s your favorite godmother?” I ask turning back to whipping my tub of lard posing as cake topping.

“Rainbow Dash! She’s the best! I can’t wait to see her tonight.”

“Why are you going to see Rainbow tonight?”

“Because mommy said she was eating dinner with us Sparky.”

I pause, “Oh, thank you for telling me.”

Soon, more potatoes then in the oven, canned soup is warming on the stove, now I can finish that cake. Chocolate and plain frosting, maybe I should have added vanilla bean? Oh well. Dinky still stares at the frosting and gets to lick the bowl again, when she’s finished her face is covered and she looks adorkable. I can’t help it, it’s silly and I fall down laughing, then she joins me.

The door opens and mom walks through wearing her bubbly smile. She is followed by Rainbow Dash. “Hi girls. It looks like you had fun this afternoon.”

“Yeah! Sparky made a cake!”

“Hello Rainbow Dash. Dinky said you would be joining us?” I ask.

“Yes she is.” Mom says. “Carrot Top was supposed to tell you. But it looks like you got everything okay.” She turns to Dinks,

“Did you give Sparkler a hard time?”

“No mommy. Just playing.”

“That’s good, why don’t you go wash your hooves and sit at the table?”

They go off and Rainbow offers to set the table with me putting the finishing touches on dinner. Butter, salt, cold green beans are always good, juice, and Rainbow starts making small talk.

“So, anything special planed this summer? Big plans with your friends?”

“I don’t have any friends. I was hoping to hang out with you, mom and Dinks this summer.”

“Doing what exactly?” She gave me this worried look.

“Camping in the living room or up at Winsdor Falls. Going to the lake, or maybe the ocean. Canterlot, you know, have fun with each other.”

“Soo, you do have friends,” she tells me.

“Huh?”

“You just told me you don’t have friends right?”

“I don’t really.”

“But all those things you said sound like stuff you do with friends. Does doing them with your family make them any different?” she reasons.

“But you’re all my family. Friends are ponies my own age right?”

“Sparkler, friends are ponies you know and like and spend time with and…everything. And family is the first friends you make. Now tell me, why can’t your mom, your sister and me be your friends? Don’t we like doing all that with you?”
I was quiet for a bit. “Well, Dinky wanted to stay in the kitchen all day with me.”

“See, you’re her best friend. If she was the neighbor and your age doing that you would call her your friend.” I nod. “Then why does something as shallow as age matter?”

“I guess it shouldn’t.”

“Right. So do you have plans with your friends this summer?”

I nod. “Yes. I am going to spend the whole summer with them.” I am proud and thankful to have such a cool and wise godmother as Rainbow Dash.

“Great. And if you want help finding ponies your age to hang with I think I can help. Now, why don’t we eat and you can tell us about more big plans for this summer? Then there will be cake.”

“Sounds good Rainbow Dash” Mom and Dinks are waiting for us at the table, and I can tell this is going to be a great summer.

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Comments ( 14 )

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FicusCat

FicusCat #1 · Apr 29th, 2013 · · ·

I really like this kind of stories.

Skeeter The Lurker

Skeeter The Lurker #2 · Apr 29th, 2013 · 1 · ·

Hm.

Not bad.

~Skeeter The Lurker

InsertAuthorHere

InsertAuthorHere #3 · Apr 29th, 2013 · · ·

Hmmm...this was a pretty good one. Nice job.

punzil504

punzil504 #4 · Apr 29th, 2013 · 1 · ·

I know it says "complete," but I think you should consider writing additional chapters to this story. Sparkler doesn't get a lot of stories written from her point of view, and the concept of a Doo family vacation from her perspective is intriguing.

Potato Pride

Potato Pride #5 · Apr 29th, 2013 · · ·

Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice.

Firebirdbtops

Firebirdbtops #6 · Apr 29th, 2013 · 1 · ·

I recognize many of your influences, which is nice. However, you really need to edit this. Much of the sweet tone this gives off is squandered due to mistaken homonyms, poor punctuation and several poor word choices.

Mares Guyver