Seeking A Quiet Afternoon

by Tired Old Man

Ch. 1-8: A New Doorway

Mender and Pinkie talked for at least 10 minutes. Their discussion wasn't so much an actual conversation as it was them poking fun at each other.

She kept bringing up a welcoming party when she could, however, and Mender was still adamant in not wanting a party. Especially not a surprise party, not while he was still recovering. Regardless, Pinkie persisted relentlessly, forcing him to cave to a party sometime after he recovers. When this was going to happen, however, Pinkie wouldn't say. He couldn't figure out what was behind her smile at the thought of throwing him a party, but he thought he detected a bit of deviousness in her eyes. That sealed it for him. He WAS going to hate that party...he just didn't know how much he'd hate it.

Pinkie started bouncing off when the conversation finished, saying something about making cupcakes at Sugar Cube Corner. That must have been the name of that bakery he passed by. Hm...it was a fitting name. He wasn't too sure about Pinkie being around that many sweet treats, though. That thought was unsettling to him, though he couldn't figure out why.

Mender began his walk home once again. For the first time since he came here, he finally felt calm and collected. Granted, he should have been calm in the hospital, but the stress of the rehab made sure he wasn't completely comfortable there...well, that and the Crusaders' visits always put him on edge every time they came.

Before Mender knew it, he came home at last as he got lost in his train of thought. Only when he saw the aged gray wood of the front porch did he snap himself out of his thoughts. The shack still looked hideous, but he knew the interior at least had some color in it now. He sighed at the sad sight. This place really needs some serious repairs, maybe a paint job too, but he would worry about that later.

His target was the suitcase the moment he opened the door. That quickly changed as he heard a growl come from the hallway. He knew who it belonged to, and spoke.

"Crunch, I'm home."

The growling stopped immediately. Mender breathed a small sigh of relief before the wind was knocked out of him as a black blur slammed into him from the other end of the hallway. He fell backwards and was sprawled out on the floor, unaware of Crunch's smiling, joyful face looking down over him for a brief moment as pain shook his body and clouded his vision. Celestia dammit, did that hurt!

Mender quickly started his breathing routine to dull the pain slightly, but Crunch's face went from happy to worried in an instant as he heard the stallion's breathing rate change. Crunch got off of him and sat near him, waiting patiently for a response.

Crunch wouldn't wait long. Mender controlled his breathing well enough after about 15 seconds, and afterward he extended a hoof and started rubbing the creature's head. He knew Crunch didn't want to harm him, it was just unaware of his condition. Two weeks alone in the house certainly didn't help him learn any restraint around Mender, either.

As he got up off the floor and started to look around, the first thing he noticed were three apple cores lying in the hallway. They were eaten all the way down to the stem and seeds. He didn't need to guess where it went to, as he looked down at the creature and smiled.

...perhaps those apples are also why Crunch wasn't as hostile to him as he should have been. He was only around this creature for about a day after all, and the only moment they shared was eating a bag of apple chips. Suddenly, he was quite thankful for Applejack's welcoming gift. It looked to have saved him his status with the small dark creature.

Mender collected what was left of the apples and disposed of the stems, but kept the seeds, and set those down on the kitchen counter. He guessed it couldn't hurt to have an apple tree of his own, and it would help to have his own personal snack tree to keep both him and Crunch satisfied...though that would be quite some time from now. He hoped Applejack wouldn't mind, as he didn't plan on being competition for her...and he had a feeling he shouldn't get on her bad side.

He went to his suitcase as Crunch walked under the sofa and curled up for a nap. Mender briefly wondered if the creature didn't sleep the entire time he was gone...

He shook his head and finally started unpacking. He pulled out a small knife set and placed it near the kitchen sink. These were the only cooking tools he needed, as he had no pots, pans, or skillets with him when he came here. He was somewhat happy that there wasn't an oven or stove in this kitchen. He was terrible at cooking.

Back in the army when he had to work the food line, he was frequently bothered by the joke that said he only knew two ways to cook food: Burnt, or charcoal. Those young colts were asses...so to speak, but they didn't take any more jabs at him beyond that. Potentially being their savior out in the battlefield served as a small grim reminder that you shouldn't piss off the medic saving you...and he was very thankful for that reminder.

He procured plates, bowls, and some forks from his suitcase and set them in some drawers and cabinets as he finished unpacking his kitchen essentials. It wasn't much that he added, but simply having that knife set on the counter was a good start at making this place feel more like home.

He then moved to the living room and set up a small folding table. On top, he set a large, cylinder-shaped candle. Given there was no electricity going to this place, candlelight would keep him moving around in the evening without stumbling over Crunch or any furniture. Even though the sun and moon both gave a fair amount of light for the kitchen and hallway enough so candles wouldn't be needed there, the rest of the shack was hard to navigate in the dark. He didn't want to be dependent on that flashlight every time he needed to do something in the evening.

Mender's next target was the bathroom. He took out a large shampoo bottle, a towel, and a few other vanity items and set them all in appropriate locations. He then returned to his suitcase and placed a candle on the toilet. He was careful as to where he put the candle there, for he didn't think it wise to start burning his mane as he did his business...though if that did happen, he wasn't exactly in a terrible spot to fix the situation.

He hoisted the suitcase over his back and ascended the stairs to the attic bedroom. Daylight shone strongly through the small, rounded broken window, lighting up a small portion of the room. He set up another folding table near the bed and placed the last candle he had on top of it. He left everything else in his suitcase, which by now just amounted to his old helmet and medic uniform. He needed a more appropriate spot for those, but for now, he's finished unpacking.

He descended the stairs, but as he rounded the corner, he stared at the basement door. An odd thought struck him in that he hadn't actually explored this room yet. Well, now that he finished unpacking, taking a look in there now seemed as good a time as any.

He went to the living room and fumbled around for the flashlight, and found it near Crunch, its body rising and falling as it breathed steadily. Sheesh, this creature really missed him. He knew the flashlight wasn't there last time he was here.

Mender turned on the flashlight, and it still shined strongly. Perfect. He walked over to the basement and started his descent.

These stairs creaked and groaned even louder than the ones leading to the attic. If there was anything living in this basement, he was sure he made enough noise to wake them...but nothing came out once he reached the bottom. Mender laughed at himself, what could be worse than that creature that tackled him when he got back?

He glanced around the basement and noticed a few things. In a corner of the basement sat two chairs, thickly caked in dust. One vaguely resembled the shape of the other chairs in the kitchen. He wondered why it was even down here...and then he realized something.

This chair was telling a story of its own. These chairs were clearly meant for a family of four, probably one of this shack's previous owners over the years. But this chair had been gathering dust for a long time. It must have been the chair used by one of the family members, and them alone. It was a disturbing sight, to say the least.

...either that, or a family of three that never expected guests just moved this chair down and let it sit here for a while. That seemed much less likely, however, as one should always expect guests to come around sooner or later.

His gaze then moved to the second chair, and his heart skipped a beat. It was a rocking chair. Mender would never admit this to anyone, but as much as he hated being called old, he had to respect these rocking chairs as some of the most comfortable chairs in the world. And he LOVED rocking chairs ever since he was a young foal.

He could always sleep soundly in those chairs, no matter what position he was in. It was the perfect way for him to get rest when he needed it, and more reliably so than beds half the time...and since his current bed was out of commission at the moment, this chair would be a great substitute, for now.

His gaze turned further past the chairs and rested upon a strange sight, an ivory door inside a frame. He walked up to it and saw that it wasn't mounted to the wall it was resting upon. It was also exuding a strange magical aura that Mender felt through his horn. He tried opening the door, expecting something to happen, but nothing did, because it was locked...wait, a locked door that wasn't attached to anything, and it's pulsing with magic? If his suspicions weren't high before, they were now.

It stood out way too much from the rest of the shack. It didn't have a layer of dust on it unlike the other chairs, meaning this was probably put here recently...or that magic made sure it was never dusty. If that was the case, this door could be as old, or even older than the chairs. But why? It wouldn't fit the front door frame...not like it mattered. The fact that it was locked bothered him immensely. Who would bother to lock a door that led to nowhere, even if it had magic seeping out of it?

He desperately racked his brain for an answer, but found nothing. He mindlessly kicked the door, and it didn't budge an inch...but he heard something else.

It sounded like a...yelp?

He wondered where it came from, but decided that thinking further on it was a waste of time. He walked over and took the rocking chair, and left the basement to the darkness it thrived in.

Author's Note:

Hiya folks! Old Man he-

WHAM

Yelp!

.........well, that was odd. That sounded like someone trying to break my door down.

Whew, glad it was only one time though. Celestia forbid what would happen if it was opened.

That would be a very awkward moment for all of us...well, mostly me.

Regardless, it's highly unlikely that anypony can open the door now.

Comments

[Luna Secret Stallion]

I will read this later. It looks good.

[Luna Secret Stallion]

By the way how old are yea old man.