Flitter Hope: or How I learned to Live

by Masters-of-the-Elements

chapter two: My Mother, The injured joker

Flittering Hope:
OR how I learn to Live
Chapter 2:
My Mother, the Injured Joker

To her credit, Karen Gale wasn’t surprise when she saw me. In fact, all she did was size me up slightly, and then went back to buttering the whole wheat bread she was holding. I huff a puff of air in anger, and walked up to her. I gave the metal cane resting against the counter a side-way glance and looked at my mother, glaring at her.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” I asked in a stern voice.

She looked down at me, and I notice a mischievous glee sparkling in her eyes but her face was stoic. I can admit this, even if it’s only to myself but I fear my mother to a certain level. She was one of five people I would never want to meet when she’s in a bad mood. I wouldn’t want to deal with her even when she could barely walk.

“I was thinking of some toast for breakfast and maybe some green tea,” my mother replied casually. “You’re Michael, right.”

It wasn’t a question, more like a statement, really. I didn’t care at the moment. I took a seat and put my front hooves on my hips, if ponies had hips, that is. I tried to put my trademark scowl on my new pony face, and I saw the sparkle in my mother’s eyes grew. Oh, I did forget to mention that my mother’s somewhat of a joker. I always believed that this was a sorta mechanism that my mother’s uses when she’s worried about something. And with everything that happened to her, her funny bone had gone into overdrive.

Still…I wasn’t about to let her off the hook just because she was feeling adventurous.

“I don’t care if you’re feeling like walking to France,” I said, my voice dropping in pitch. “You know full well that you’re not supposed to be on the leg for long periods! So, I have to ask again…what do you think you’re doing?”

The humor in mom’s eye died a bit after my little outburst, and she sighed faintly. She grabbed her cane, and I watched as she limp slightly over to the table. She winces slightly as she eased herself into a chair. I watched as she tried to rub the tension out of her right leg.

I frown deeply as I looked at my mother. She was involved in a car accident about six months ago. No, she wasn’t in a car during the accident. She was actually walking home from a town meeting. It was a foggy night…I know, I know, cliché but that’s how it happened. Some drunken idiot was driving around, and with the fog clouding his already blurry vision, didn’t see my mother. Luck was with my mom that night, as she heard the vehicle and was tried to jump out of the way. The attempt was only partially successful, and she was able to avoid a fatal blow. Unfortunately, her leg did get clipped on the side of the vehicle, and she went sent flying. The way that my step dad describes it to me, mom was sent flying and landed on the injure leg. Thankful, mom’s tough and was able to endure the pain long enough to get her phone out and call me.

Things only got worse from there, unfortunately. The doctors told my family my mother’s right leg was broken in five different locations. They also said that she was lucky that she wasn’t going to loose the leg. This made my mom happy that she would make a full recovery. But the process would take a long time, we were told. She would need to have several operations and physical therapy over the next few months. Mom, an active woman at 59, didn’t like this one bit. It had taken my step-dad three nights and four days just to convince her to take it easy, and she still a little bitter about it.

That was four months ago, and she is making good progress. Her progress was so good that she doesn’t need to wear a cast anymore, just a heavy boot to keep her leg straight. Of course, there were still limitations. The biggest concern, for me at least, was that mom needed to keep weight off her injured leg. And of course, standing at a counter, bettering toast, wasn’t my idea of getting weight off of it.

I probably would have gotten my little ‘newspaper’ warning soon, if I light sigh hadn’t brought me back to reality. I looked at my mother and noticed the shameful look on her face. The anger mixed with concern I felt at the moment, was instantly cooled, and all that was left was concern.

“What’s wrong, mom?” I asked as I trotted up to her.

She looked at me with a sad smile and said, “I know you’re just looking out for me, but it’s driving me crazy not doing anything. After that last operation, when my cast came off, I thought I was finally going to leave this house.” Her gaze suddenly became far away, and she turned her head to the right, looking down the hall, or trying to. “Plus…I thought I heard a scream about 30 minutes ago.”

I frown lightly as I lean to my right, to look beyond mom, and down the hall myself. I didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know that my mom was really concern about her stepdaughter. That was one of the things I share with my mother, our views on family. If any one were to insult or hurt any member of my family, blood-related or otherwise, my mother was quick to act, and more then likely that person would get a one way ticket to the ER.

Rule number one; you never mess with the Anderson/Gale family.

“I know you’re worried, mom. So am I,” I said, trying to sound comforting. “But what can we say to make this better? What can I say to ease her pain if I don’t if my words would make it worse? I know this may sound cold, but I think the best we can do now is wait, and see what happens.”

It was a truth, a cold truth, but a truth none the less. And I knew my own mother well enough that she would also see what I see, and know the right time to act, just like I hope I would know the right time to act as well.

Mom was silent for a moment she just continued to look down the hall the best she could. I first thought that she might have taken my words the wrong way, and was preparing to bolt out of here if I need too. My body tense by reflex as mom turned and look at me. She suddenly smiled a sad smile, and patted me on the head, causing my body’s tension to melt.

“You’re right. I mean not like it but you’re right, dear,” mom said in defeat.

I cast my eyes down; feeling like someone had just punched me in the stomach as they tore off my new wings. I really do want to help my stepsister, but it’s like I said…what can I say that wouldn’t make things worse? In the end, all I can do is be there for her when she’s ready, and let her knew that she wasn’t alone in this anymore.

Man, do I hate my brain works sometimes.

“You know, since you’re saying I shouldn’t get up, maybe you can get my breakfast that I left on the counter.” I looked up, and saw the sparkles had returned to my mother’s eyes.

I looked at the table, a light scowl on my face. Now she was just making fun of me, I was sure of it. Still…I wasn’t about to let my mother risk injuring herself anymore. I puffed out my chest and trotted over to the counter. I looked up, and felt some fear swell up in me. I tried to push it back into my mind as I thought over my choices. I could try to stand up and reached for the plate, but would I even reach the counter? I could also try to use my new wings and hover up to there.

I looked at my wings, and frown when I notice something; they had folded in at some point. Weird, I remembered that they were open when I woke up, and left my room. So when did they fold up? I narrowed my brow as I began to study my wings.

Maybe and this is a big maybe, my new body had retain some sort of muscle memory. If that was the case then I might be able use said muscle memory to make my first flight as a pony much easier. I grinned as I thought about soaring high above the air, wind in my new mane, and the worries about the ground left behind. Oh, it did sound wonderful, so wonderful that I was thinking-

‘NEWSPAPER,’ my inner voice screamed to me.

Oh right, I needed to get my mom her breakfast. I wasn’t confident in my wings just yet so I stood on my back legs, and tried to balance myself. Man, talk about awkward. Every single muscle and instinct in my body was screaming for me to stand down, and I wanted nothing more then to listen to them. The muscles in my back legs, while strong enough to support me, were getting stress quickly from having so much weight on them.

How the ponies on the show does this without popping, tearing, or pulling ever single muscles in their back legs I would never now and I don’t think I want to know.

Still, I have a task to perform, and was eager to poof, to myself, that I could do it. I leaned forward, and put my front hooves into the counter side. I was glad that the counter wasn’t that high up, as my head barely reached past it. I was feeling really pleased with myself as I looked at the plate that my mother’s breakfast rested on.

Now comes the hard part. Carrying a piece of fabric in one’s mouth is easy, just as long as no one tried to take it for you. Carrying a plate made out of marble, however, is a different story. A little known fact; some herbivores had some strong jaws, not as strong as predators, mind you, but strong never-the-less. So I leaned down, and carefully took the plate into my jaw. Thankfully, it was just a small plate with two slices of toast.

Man, was that ever a bitter taste. I would take my strawberry bowtie over this taste any day of the week.

I angled my body as I lowered myself back onto all fours, and I walked carefully over to the table. My mom took the plate with a sincere smile, and began to eat. I become aware of a familiar rumble and knew what it meant without looking at the organ making the noise. Mom apparently heard it as well, as she gave me a light glance. I notice the humor in eyes had dimmed slightly, as I give her a sheepish smile.

“There’s some leftover steamed veggies in the fridge,” Mom commented seriously, and went back to her own breakfast.

I must have blinked three times as mother’s words sunk in. I do remember my stepfather making some steamed vegetables for Sera last night. She didn’t eat them, of course, and I didn’t want them to go to waste. I had wrapped them up, and put them into the fridge, incase she wanted them later.

I sigh a bit bitterly as I turned and looked at the fridge. Some part, a large part, of me was hoping she would venture out of her room, and gets the meal. I was starting to get worried about her. Sara really hadn’t eaten much since the incident at school, and that left me feeling helpless. I know I told my mother to wait and see, but every day she stays in there was more weight on my heart. It wouldn’t take much longer before my hear shatters, and I do something I might regret latter on.

I sigh again as I reached the fridge, and let my fear die. First, take care of your needs, and then worry about your stepsister, a little voice in the back of my head advice smartly. All I have to deal with now is trying to get that blasted door open. I suddenly stopped, and blinked four times when I noticed something tied around the handle.

“Wait…” I said voice barely above a whisper, “is that a rope…with a mouth guard at the end?”

My pony ear suddenly snapped to attention and swiveled to my left, where they picked up a sound no human ears could. I realized it was my mother; she was trying to giggle under her breath, and doing a good job at it, too. Of course, she hadn’t realized that my ears are more sensitive, and had picked it up.

Still, I couldn’t help but think back to all the one ups she had on me, and got a little silly thought into my head. As it stands, the score between a mother and her son-turned-daughter is this; mom…10 points, and me…negative 97. I chuckled to myself as I walked up and took the mouth guard into my own mouth.

Man, another bitter taste to deal with. I tried to ignore it as I planted my back hooves into the floor, and pulled with all the strength this new body has. The door opened easily actually, and I needed to jump out of the way to avoid getting hit in my new muzzle.

Note to self…remember that your body is still alien to you, and you should be more careful until you understand it completely. I filed it into the back of my mind, as I looked for the plate of steamed goods. The plate was easy to find, it was on the bottom rack, after all. I grabbed the foil wrapped plate, trying to ignore the taste, and walked behind the door. I turned so my back was facing the front of the door, and with a simple double kick, closed the door.

With my task completed, I returned to the table. Mom was kind enough to take the plate, and set it onto the table as I struggled to push out a chair, and get up in it. It took me about five minutes, but in the end I was seated, and my breakfast was in front of me, begging to be eaten.

Mom has uncovered the plate after she grabbed it from me and now I studied the contents of the plate. It was a light selection really; just some lettuce, cauliflower, and carrots slices. I have never been much in the green scene, but I don’t have a choice here. I wasn’t an idiot who thinks he can go against his body. Yes, I would miss my hamburgers and tacos, but there was nothing I could do about it…for now.

So, I lean down and took a carrot slice into my mouth. The sensation that reached my brain was like nothing I have experience before. It was like I was a little kid again, and I had just tasted my first ice cream bar. It was just so good and tasty that I found myself diving snort first into the delicious meal. The world was dead to me at the moment, even my own mother, who was giggling like a little school girl, was lost to me as I devoured my breakfast in record time.

Once the food was gone and my stomach filled, I lean back into my chair, sighing with contentment. I rubbed my tummy, moaning from the action. Who know that the green scene could be so…filling?

“You know, that’s not exactly the best position for a young lady,” my mother said in mock scolding.

I looked at my mother, and saw that the humor had once again returned. I rolled my eyes as I righted myself into a more formal sitting position. Man, was that ever weird, and something I didn’t feel like going into at the moment.

“First of all, I’m a mare. Second, I’m a boy, no matter what body I’m in,” I said with great pride.

My mother giggle at this, and this caused me to frown slightly. I puff out my chest in, what I hoped, was male pride, and tried to look as manly as possible.

“What’s so funny?” I asked playfully, trying to make my voice lower.

This had the exact opposite affect on mom, and she giggled a little harder, almost going into full blown laughter. Soon, I caught her giggles, and soon joined her. We giggled/semi-laughed for a good three to four minutes before we both settled. The room fell into a comfortable silence as mom sipped on her tea.

Wait…was that already on the table because I don’t remember getting it for her. I thought about it for near 30 second, and then just shrug. I no doubt miss it, and I didn’t know how long my mom was out here before I came.

“So…sweetie, what’s with the bowtie?” mom asked casually.

I looked to where the item landed during my outburst shortly after discovering my mother. I couldn’t stop the light blush that appeared as I looked at mother.

“Oh, that,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even, and failing a little. “It’s an item the character I turned into, wears. I think it was once my black bandana.”

“Hmm…want me to put it on?” she asked off-handedly.

That threw me for a loop, and all I could do was gawk at the woman who is my mother. I looked at the item, and wonder why I even brought that thing out. I actually wanted to forget the thing, and focus on the important things. Unfortunately, that nagging feeling was back, and seems stronger then before. I tried to ignore it but it just wouldn’t leave me alone. Soon, and almost out-of-my-control, I found myself hopping off my chair and trotted up to discarded item. I bent at the neck, and picked it up with me teeth. I then returned to my mother, and she took it from me without a single word being exchanged.

Soon, she began to work, and I just sat there patiently. As this was happening, I couldn’t help but feel like my manhood’s points had just dropped by 5 points.

Author's Note:

Three things before I go.
First: I'm still in the process of looking for a proof reader for my stories. Hopefully I can find one soon, and probably get their help with my problems, and maybe get a little more editing done. So pleace be patient about my mistakes.
Second: if anyone is willing to be a proofreader, drop me a shout. Of course, this is a invitation, and doesn't have to be taken seriously. Still, it would be nice if someone do offer their aid, right?
Third and Final: this is for all those who follow my stories. Just my blog soon, and you might find a humorous post there soon.

Comments

[Firebirdbtops]

Ties are quite manly though