What's With the Hook?

by CP Benedict

Singing Foal 5

CHAPTER 5

As soon as Icarus flung open the door, the Crusaders gasped in fear of what was inside. Icarus walked in the door, and gestured to the three fillies that they follow him. They looked at Icarus as if he was about to do something crazy or even dangerous, but nevertheless, they apprehensively followed Icarus through the door. They were greeted by a mostly empty space, very little furniture, and nothing hanging on the walls. Icarus walked over to the only spot in the house with a cluster of items, including a few desks grouped together side-by-side, large stacks of paper, a quill dipped in a small bottle of ink, and black, tattered, leather cases in various shapes under the desks. Off to the side of the desk setup was a dark brown record player with a large, bronze cone, and in pretty well shape despite its age.

Icarus’s wooden presence became enthusiastic as he turned to the Crusaders, but he tried to sound serene when he said, “So, any of you into music, by any chance?”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes glistened and her whole face lit up as she gasped in excitement. “You mean all of this is…” she started, only to have the question answered by Icarus nodding. She started jumping up and down, the other ponies in the small house watching in bewilderment.

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!! I KNEW IT!!!” she shouted in a squeaky, merry tone. She then darted over to Icarus, and stared at what she saw as the answer to every single question she ever asked.

Icarus was, at first, startled by Sweetie’s radical action, but after a second or two of staring back at her, he couldn’t help but chuckle with joy of feeling flattered. “Thought you’d want to know for sure, though.”

Sweetie looked over to her friends to find them both staring, confused of what exactly is going on. However, she was too quick to dash over to Icarus’s little music studio to take note of that. She looked through the stacks of paper to find pieces of music written down on them, she assured that she had never heard of any of the songs written before asking, “Did you write these songs?”

Icarus modestly responded, “More or less attempted to.”

Sweetie then looked under the desks to find the black cases, which, judging by the shapes of them, could only be assumed to contain musical instruments. She pointed her hoof towards them and springily asked, “And you play instruments?!”
Icarus humbly answered, “Well, mostly the trumpet.” He then reached for the small leather box, containing said trumpet. With him unlatching the locks, Sweetie noticed her friends walking closer towards them. Being made of old brass, the trumpet didn’t stand out much from the casing surrounding it, but it wasn’t dirty or even too bad in shape for it be played either. Icarus walked over to the record player, and gave the top of it a single swipe with his hoof to give it a decent dusting. At that point, Sweetie Belle has never seen a record player before, and has always wanted to. He then opened the cabinet near the bottom, revealing a selection of records, then he tugged out a tinted record sleeve with barely visible text and a faded image of a portly stallion playing a trumpet. “Do ya know ‘Baltimare Blues?’” he asked Sweetie Belle, presenting the record, but he slowly began to lower it, coming to a quick realization, and started to say “You probably don’t.”

“I love that one! I’m a huge Fats Wheeler fan!” Sweetie exclaimed.

“Alright then!” Icarus joyfully agreed. He set the record onto the turntable, and set down the needle, amplifying the cosmic sound of the needle swabbing against the vinyl. He hurried towards the case holding the trumpet, and quickly assembled the design, with a few seconds to spare before the first note emitted from the cone. The piece began with two high chords on a piano, followed by a light wave of trumpets lowering in a minor tie, which Icarus joined in with his, blending just as well in with the recording. A voice coming from the recording called out, “Morning Cob!” which Icarus uttered in unison, facing the record player as if it were another performer, followed by another voice calling, “Good mornin’ Fats!” Sweetie giggled with charm. A series of percussion taps followed, which progressively got faster until it reached the tempo of a song you’d dance to at a party. It then proceeded with a vigorous rhythm, circulated by the many different sounds of the brass instruments played. Icarus gracefully played along to the number, shaking to the beat, Sweetie Belle danced along with him. When the first lyric approached, Icarus took a breath and commenced in the energetic vocals. He sounded diverse from his slow, soothing tones of last night, being more lively and jumpier. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo finally got their share of the majesty of the pipes of the Singing Foal, and it sure caught them by surprise. After Icarus finished the first verse, the second verse was sung by the second singer in the recording. Sweetie stepped in, feeling a warm, wild intensity quickly building up in her chest, waiting to finally be set free. She burst out in a jolt of timbre, like the sound of a personified oboe or a swan. It was quite an excitement for Apple Bloom and Scootaloo to be revealed the talent their long-time friend has hidden all these years. Icarus toothily smiled, wildly impressed by Sweetie’s vocals, as the second verse reached the transition to the instrumental break. Icarus played along with the trumpet solo and even improvised some of his own techniques by springing the tune higher. The break ended with a high, raspy blast from both the trumpet in the recording and from Icarus. Icarus and Sweetie both bellowed out the last verse of the song in a stunning harmony, and they both ended with a flawless fade. They were greeted with cheers and applause from Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.

“That was amazin’!” Apple Bloom cried.

“Yeah! You two should perform on stage or something!”

Sweetie giggled and tentatively said, “Aww, thanks you guys.” She then widened her eyes as if in realization, turned to Icarus and said, “But wait. There’s one thing I don’t understand.” Icarus looked towards Sweetie, preparing to answer any question. “Don’t you think your mom would be proud to see you play music like this?”

Icarus appeared skeptical to tell Sweetie why he would hide his talents from everyone and not be proud of them, despite the fact that he has all of the equipment in this little house and clearly has a good time doing it. He then decided that as the only one he knows can appreciate what he has to offer, she deserves to know. He quietly said “Don’t tell anypony, but this stuff isn’t mine.” The Crusaders jumped in shock, but before they could jump to any conclusions, Icarus continued, “Apparently, this place has been abandoned for years."

“Funny you should say that,” Scootaloo began, “everypony says that this place is haunted or something.”

Icarus quickly said, “Well, if there are ghosts in here, I appreciate that they share their music with me.” He then turned his head up into his right and said, “Isn’t that right, Mr. Ghostlything?” The crusaders guffawed at that sudden blurt of wit. Sweetie was overjoyed that he was able to show his comical side for her friends this time. Icarus continued, “Anyway, when we lived in Saddatevka, my papa and I sang for festivals, holidays, and stuff like that, and I really grew attached to him over the years. But when my family and I moved to Ponyville, we both had to take jobs. Unfortunately, he ended up with a twelve-hour job and I ended up with a night job, so when I'm home, he's working and when I'm working he's at home." He lowered his head upon repeating that desolating facts, but quickly perked back up to continue his story, "But one night, on my way home from work, I noticed that this little house never had the lights on, and…” he hesitated before the rest of his explanation, “I kind of checked to see if anyone lived here, I mean it wasn’t too late, so I wasn’t afraid of waking anypony up, and my folks would be asleep by the time I came home anyway. There was nothing in here except everything around us, no furniture, no beds, no nothin’, so I figured nopony lived here. However, all of this seemed right up my alley. I know this isn’t right, but I’ve been sneaking in here every night after work, this way, no one can hear me from outside.”

Sweetie gave a distressed look to the ground, and said, “I know how you feel there, I love singing when I’m alone, but when I’m out in public, I get so scared, I wouldn’t even sing a note. I remember when I had a chance to sing at a talent show, but I just ended up making the costumes.”

Icarus replied, “That must bite.” They both gave a shameful sigh.

Apple Bloom, stepped in, giving a smile that was obviously trying to make the two feel better, and said “You just sang for us.”

Scootaloo added, “And it was incredible!”

Icarus and Sweetie gave a look at themselves, reminding themselves that they are the ones responsible for somepony make that statement.

Apple Bloom continued, “Wouldn’t ya want to have other ponies hear that too, instead of keepin' it all to yerself in this old, abandoned house?”

Icarus and Sweetie were silent for a moment, looking around the house, Icarus started to see it as the prison he set himself and his talent in, and Sweetie saw it as the disposal she was about to throw away her passion into. Icarus broke the silence by saying “She’s right.”

Sweetie added, “Yes, but what can we do?”

Scootaloo timidly started, “I don’t want to act like I have the answer to everything, but…” she suggested “maybe you can think of how it made us feel?”

As much as Scootaloo doubted that advice, Icarus and Sweetie pondered, as if analyzing what she suggested. After Icarus restored the trumpet and record, the two smiled at each other, with Sweetie saying, “I guess we could try.”

Icarus added, “What have we got to lose, anyway?” He put a spring into that question, trying not to sound cynical. “Well, it’s getting late, I have to get ready for work.”

Sweetie frowned and her ears drooped, saying nothing more than, “Okay.”

With all four ponies exiting the house, Icarus turned towards the direction of his house, but Scootaloo called out to him, “Wait!” she continued with a friendly look, “Before you go, I still owe you something.” She then extended her hoof, allowing Icarus to shake it, something she should have done upon meeting him.

Icarus gave a heartfelt smile, and said to all three Crusaders, “It was really nice meeting you all. We’ll see each other again, right?”

Apple Bloom joyfully twanged, “You bet yer apples we will!”

Sweetie Belle walked up to Icarus, still frowning, and looked into his eyes with Icarus looking into hers. “Thank you.” she cooed.

Icarus made an exaggerated expression of jolliness and put a gleeful spring into his response “No problem.”

Sweetie’s frown instantly disappeared as she giggled at Icarus’ merry, comical delivery. “When we see each other again, would it be okay if we did some more music?” she asked tensely.

“You can count on it!” Icarus said as he trotted home, leaving the Crusaders with a little spark of color they would’ve needed on an otherwise tedious day.

Author's Note:

First thing I want you all to know is that the editing process is going to move a little slower, seeing that school's starting up again, but I'll try not to take 5 months to complete the next chapter, like I did last time. Anyway, there's quite a few things to talk about here. For one thing, the musical number described in this chapter includes some homages to old-school jazz music of the 1920s and 30s. The name of the musician, Fats Wheeler, is an Equestrian pun on the name of jazz artist, Fats Waller. The description of the opening to the song is a reference to the opening to Cab Calloway's "The Old Man of the Mountains." In fact, the pony version of Cab appears in the song as Cob, being a reference to the collaboration of Al Jolson and Cab Calloway as they covered the song, "I Love to Sing-a" where, in the beginning, they greet each other "good morning." The way Icarus interacts with the recording is kind of like how I am, when I listen to jazz music. Only after I wrote this section have I realized that there is a song called "Baltimore Blues" but the song in this story has no connection. Also, if I could write lyrics for the song, I would have, but I cannot write good lyrics at all. I should also talk about the way Scootaloo helps Sweetie and Icarus cope with their problem. Sometimes, when my friends are feeling depressed or don't know what to do, I want to help them, but I don't want to always seem like the only one who has the answer to their problems, and sometimes I have doubts in the advice I give. However, people have given me advice before, and no matter what it was, it always made me feel better about my problems. My guess is that the feeling of someone trying to help you, whether the advice itself is helpful or not, can make you feel like you can resolve your problem. It's pretty obvious that the goal for both Sweetie and Icarus is to share their talents with everypony instead of isolating them, and that they are going to help each other, but the biggest difference is that Icarus has put down the habit of performing music just for himself in the old abandoned house, as he's been letting himself do for a while, and Sweetie has to stop herself from falling into that same trap. We have two different perspectives on the same problem, but the two will have to work together to resolve it, and realize what makes them special. The question is, how will they?