April 13
April 13, 2012
12:00 pm
Southwest corner of N. 43rd Ave and W. Bell Rd.
There has to be an end to this dark tunnel. There has to be.
Then suddenly, I was suspended in the dark air by an unnamed source, a sort of reverse gravitational pull hurling my helpless body towards the unknowable sky. I stopped. Then, like a flash of the stage lights I was blinded by the presence of ponies appearing out of the unknown into what turned out to be a circular stage, akin to the styles of William Manespeare’s Old Globe Theatre.
Everypony I met on the bus was there.
Twilight Sparkle.
Applejack.
Pinkie Pie.
Vinyl Scratch.
Even Rainbow Dash.
Then, in a misty swirl of amethyst crystals, my cello and my bow materialized at my side and plopped to the ground, echoing a jumbled sound. I reached down to grab it, and it was then I noticed the attendees that sat in the front row.
Frederic.
Strings.
Susie.
Fancy Pants.
The ponies of the streets.
My mother.
Lyra.
The conductor below tapped his baton onto the stand, and raised his hooves in the air. I stumbled to bring my hooves into position. At the conductor’s command, the wind section started the piece, exactly as I planned it. The soothing notes glided from the mouths of the flutes and clarinets, giving the eerie, black theatre a sense of peaceful night. Then the strings ventured through with a brute force, disturbing the calm with its conquering instincts. Everything was going according to my original design.
And now, the percussion, bringing beat and order to the conflict. The slow rise in volume brought urgency into the blowing and entangling fray. All the while, a lone arbiter stands on stage, the savior of the struggle long prophesied from the depths of my room, her remarkable entrance imminent. The audience sat motionless, spectating, waiting to see if the heroine of the tale would come to the rescue. I stood as stone next to my cello.
Then it came. The time for the heroine to stamp out the chaos with her guiding hoof over her instrument.
But it fell silent.
I couldn’t move a single muscle across the prepared strings. They were paralyzed with…fear.
The audience gasped.
The audience laughed.
Mother remained silent.
Lyra cried.
Then, I woke up.
This was the dream (or nightmare rather) I had when I fell asleep on the doctor’s couch during our session Monday afternoon. No, I am being serious father, I actually fell asleep on his armoire! I had just walked into his office when he instructed me to lie on the vinyl furniture while he went out to the front desk to gather some documents. And so I did. And I fell asleep.
Needless to say, I was very embarrassed when I found myself crawled into a fetal position facing away from the desk and snoring like a newborn. And if that wasn’t shameful enough, the very shock of the occurrence knocked me onto the ground, flat as a pancake. The doctor was kind enough to help me up to my hooves and he didn’t hold the time I was in slumber against me. A quick glance at the wall clock showed I was asleep for about twenty minutes, and in that time the doctor took the liberty to read part of the first entry of that day’s journaling. So, at the very least, he knew my exhaustion was a direct effect of my strenuous walk that morning.
He took a long and hard look at my journal. Every page flip was a flutter of heartbeats assaulting my chest. The second hand on the wall clock seemed to lag mockingly behind its scheduled movements, as if it knew in its little pin brain that I so desperately wanted the seconds to fly.
Alas, he put my journal down on his cherry colored desk and brought his spectacles down to its side. He rubbed his temples then looked up at me. He smiled.
You are too damn stressed he said.
I chuckled. One need not be a doctor to come to that conclusion.
He recommended that I take a break from my routine. He said I should call my music group and inform them that I would be taking the day off Wednesday in order to “refresh” myself. At first I rejected the idea, pointing to the day of the concert on his little calendar, remarking that it lay only five days away from the current date. Countering my argument, he said that all of the stress I was feeling from the various angles of my life would capitalize the opportunity to bring my exhausted mind and body down to a paralyzed state, rendering me useless even in the most basic of life’s contexts. He said a break from the norm would not only give me some breathing room in all of the craziness of life, but that it would also give me a chance to reflect on many things and begin the road of self-discovery. He recommended that I go out and do something I’ve always wanted to do that I haven’t had the chance to since being burdened with a most hectic schedule.
I felt inclined to share my nightmare from only moments ago with the doctor. As I expected, he slapped his thigh and let out a reaffirming laugh. It appears my tired mind has proved his point, and so with everything stacked against me, I admitted to the soundness of the idea and promised to take the entirety of Wednesday for myself.
So here I am, taking route 43 beyond my normal stop en route to my vacation date. I must say, its rather strange riding the bus without my cello at my side. In fact, I keep looking to my left to make sure it is sitting securely at my side. Then after recovering from the short shock of its absence, I remember that today is a day to relax and to take my mind off of my current preoccupations. And, with a new pair of sunglasses to boot, I am on my way to a magical place where my fondest memories lie and where I have never discovered its peace anywhere else.
You remember the place father! Our place. I am on my way to Seaport Village.
Oh my, am I really here?
Yes! Yes I am!
The soft breeze from the sea rushes over me, embracing me in its coolness as if it were welcoming back an old friend. The rays of the sun sit very nicely on the rooftops of the little shops that greet me warmly with their old wooden faces. Thankfully, the sun is not as fierce as it has been, and with the aid of my new sunglasses and this lovely little white sol hat I could not resist purchasing, I am ready to enjoy this glorious day!
Alright, first things first. Did somepony say “Cookie’s & Cream’s Ice Cream Parlor”? I remember how the minute we stepped hoof into Seaport Village, I would always ask (okay, more like implore) you to take me to get my favorite flavor: black cherry with sprinkles. You would always get coffee and pralines and no matter how many times I would ask (okay, maybe more like beg!) you to let me have a try, you would always shake your head and say “Coffee is not for little growing fillies like you, milady!” Perhaps I will break with tradition and finally savor a forbidden scoop of coffee and pralines! No, that wouldn’t be right. That was your flavor after all. And besides, it’s been ages since I had a scoop of their smooth black cherry flavor. Now if I remember the way correctly, it should be right where I am standing.
It’s not.
All that remains is a generic wooden bungalow boarded up in all directions. There’s a note tacked on the front:
“To all of our wonderful customers and their kiddos,
We regret to inform you that we have decided to close our little shop of ice cream wonders, and pursue our retirements. Our hope is that you will never forget the smiles this beautiful place brought to your faces, because we surely never will!
Best wishes,
Cookie & Cream
Oh my. Well, I suppose they have that right. The sisters were quite elderly the times I’ve been here. I’ll never forget Cookie’s bubbly attitude and Cream’s smooth demeanor. And perhaps store bought black cherry will do from now on.
Now, what came next on our fun filled days at Seaport Village? Ah yes, the carousel!
I remember that the carousel lies on the other extreme of the boardwalk because whenever we arrived, our ice creams were heartily devoured cones and all. I remember very well how my steps would feature an extra bounce as we made our way to the carousel. Very much how my steps look right now as I write! And as I recall quite fondly, you would always bob your head as the peppy orchestral arrangement that filled the salty air became louder and louder as we got closer and closer. A crease in your mouth would turn upwards, and so would my spirits. I felt like we somehow connected that moment here at Seaport Village. It was like we became one. And that would bring me to ecstatic hops and skips and little squeals of joy would escape my sticky lips. You would ask me if I were excited about riding the carousel. And I would respond that I was excited to ride it with you. Then you’d kiss me on my head, which would send my tiny little heart into a flurry of flutters. My childlike insecurities would quiet for the rest of the night; for I concluded then and there that you were just as happy as I when we got to spend our time together here.
My favorite way to ride the carousel? The angry dragon that stood on its back two feet whilst the front two it brought up to its blood-curdling grin so as to warn the riders of its unfriendly instincts. I can’t put my hoof on it, but something about its powerful design shining under the bright lights brought the wonder and magic of the carousel to my eyes. While the other parents placed their squirming daughters onto the celestial pegasi and elegant swans, I eagerly climbed on top of the magnificent beast while you watched from below. You would always remind that the carousel made you ill, causing you vertigo to the point where you used to find yourself on your flank. I used to feel bad, but then you would smile and say “Pretend I am the king, and you’re riding back from another one of your adventures on your magnificent dragon.”
And here I am.
Where did all the carousel animals go?
The swans?
The pegasi?
My magnificent dragon.
There was another note on the wooden ticket booth. It was lengthy, but to summarize, the owner of the carousel decided to donate every one of the wondrous animal crafts to a faraway museum in light of this area of the boardwalk being purchased by a clothing retail.
No more bright colorful lights.
No more peppy music.
No more riding home to my king.
Well, there’s only one place left to memory that, hopefully, has not also given way to age or greed. The Seaport Village Art Gallery. Surely, that place was saved in order to preserve at least a fraction of the legacy that made Seaport Village the place I thought it was.
Thankfully, it has been spared. Unfortunately, it is undergoing renovations, and entrance is temporarily suspended until they are complete.
I am now sitting on a bench overlooking the whole of the shops that decorate a large part of the boardwalk, and I am now noticing that it’s not just the art gallery that is renovating. All of them are. All of the shops are trading in their rustic, wooden charm for a more modern, chic look. It’s like they each took a look at themselves in a mirror and thought it was too ancient for the current times.
This bothers me to no end. What happened to the family friendly experience? What happened to the sense of belonging and the warmth of the familiar that each store brought in its own unique way? It seems now they care more about setting a trend and punching their mark in the concrete than making a lasting legacy that rests in the hearts of their grateful patrons. That is all gone now.
There is one more part of this once majestic place that I know cannot change. Perhaps there’s still a chance to relive one of my fondest memories.
I planted my hooves into the white sands that always warmed and never burned, basking in their heat. I could see the ocean waving to me, beckoning me to come closer.
I walked to them. The waves came to me, kissed the tip of my hooves, and swam back. I walked closer to the shore, and with every step I felt the cool waters rise higher and higher up my legs until it spit at my knees.
I ran to the waves.
The waves crashed against my body and kissed my face.
The wind felt cool all over.
I stopped. Then I looked back to see you. That was when I realized.
The sun was perfect.
The wind was gentle.
The sands were warm.
And the waves were playful.
But you weren’t there.
That’s when I realized this place would never be the same.
Would never taste the same.
Never look the same.
Feel the same.
I need to see you again.
Where are you, daddy?
Just then, I heard a shriek. I turned my neck towards the sound and I spotted a young filly reaching down between two large boulders that sat against the shore on the east side of the beach. I stepped out of the waters and walked over to her, keeping my focus on her balance.
As I got within a few feet of the large rocks, the young filly looked up at me and gasped. A few traces of pink mane blocked her large green eyes, which she flicked away with a quick hoof.
I apologized for startling her, and asked her if she had dropped something. She looked down and brought a shameful hoof up to her cheek. She did drop something important and she was having the hardest time retrieving it. I offered to assist her which she quietly rejected, insisting that I not waste my time on her petty troubles. The wind pushed the few strands of mane back in front of her face and she gave up trying to fix her look. She picked up her hat and walked back to the shore, disappearing into the bustling boardwalk with a toy bucket wrapped around her body, bouncing against her side.
Out of pure curiosity, I peeked down where the filly was hunched over to see what the fuss was all about. I had to squint and shield my eyes from the setting sun to get a decent view of the space below me. All I could see was darkened sand and little blotches of sunlight poring through the surrounding cracks. I leaned closer to the hole, sticking my whole face into its personal space, using the surface of the rock to keep my balance. I searched for anything of value to a young filly: toys, tokens, tickets, coins, candy. I didn’t find any of those things, but what I did spot was a small heap of white and sandy brown sea shells. I could see the indents surrounding their placement in the sand, and determined this was what the filly had dropped. Unfortunately, they were very far down beyond the reach of even a stallion. I didn’t even attempt a grasp having no extension capabilities with me.
I poked my muzzle out of the crevice when I noticed a pair of yellow hooves staring right at me. The sight startled me, and I quickly stood to my hooves, tipping to one side of the jagged boulder. I thought for certain I would fall off the edge when I felt the same hooves reach out and grab me gently across the neckline, hugging me back to safety. I froze for a second. I looked up.
That pink mane.
Those large blue eyes, matching the ocean.
The slight crevice of her mouth that dipped down.
She quickly let go of me and apologized over and over for her actions. I shook my head and said there was nothing to apologize for. In fact, I thanked her for saving me from what would’ve been a nasty drop to the sandy bottom below.
She blushed, and I could feel color rushing to my own cheeks as well.
It was then I noticed that standing next to her was that same filly. A unicorn it turned out. She pointed to the crevice and told the pegasus her story of the bucket that was knocked over by accident, and of the plunging sea shells. The pink maned pony peeked over and let out a sympathetic sigh. The little unicorn had spent hours searching, digging for the perfect sea shells and in the end, it was for naught. The filly, Sweetie Belle was her name, began to sniffle when the pegasus knelt and ran a hoof over her wind stricken mane. She promised that next time they would search for sea shells again. The unicorn implored the pony, Fluttershy was her name, that they stay a little longer, that she needed to find more sea shells for her special friend.
A moment of silence passed as Fluttershy pondered the situation. Alas, she gave in to Sweetie Belle’s lower lip and off they went into the direction of the shoreline. I was about to turn the other way when I felt a light tapping on my cutie mark. I turned around to find the little unicorn’s eyes smiling up at me. She thanked me for trying to help her get her sea shells and asked me if I wanted to help. The shy pegasus and I shot the same embarrassed looks at each other at the filly’s brave request. I looked back at the tiny unicorn and she tried the same lip trick with me. With a sigh, I said that I would, and immediately the filly grabbed my hoof and Fluttershy’s as we all charged towards the sand. I looked over at Fluttershy, and I could see her small lips mouthing words of gratitude.
I just smiled.
And the sands were warm once again.
“Look at this one! Isn’t it cool looking?” asked Sweetie Belle.
Fluttershy nodded in approval. The three shell hunters were taking a break from their search, resting coolly on three wicker chairs just outside of a beach side restaurant. Sweetie Belle huddled over her sand bucket, which burst with sea shells of every shape imaginable. She grabbed one, examined it against the setting sun, and passed it to Fluttershy.
“I don’t remember getting this one. Do you, Fluttershy?”
“Hmm,” she replied, taking the shell and turning it on its side. “I think this is the one Octavia pulled out from the ocean.”
“What was that now?” said Octavia, breaking from her writing when she heard her name.
Fluttershy held up the sea shell to the journaling mare. “Is this the one you got from the water?”
The cellist lowered her sunglasses and stared at the oceanic souvenir keenly, recollecting the memories of the hour and a half spent with Fluttershy and her unicorn friend digging all over the white sands of the beach for the perfect group of shells.
“I think you’re right, Fluttershy.”
“That was a great find, Octavia,” exclaimed Sweetie Belle. She snatched the shell back from Fluttershy and plopped it back into her full bucket.
“Thank you, Sweetie Belle,” she replied.
The young filly mumbled and nodded her head as she continued to pore over her collection of sea shells, sifting through the whole ones and tossing out the broken pieces.
“Um, hey,” said Fluttershy, directing her words to the pony writing elegantly in her small black journal. “What are you writing? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking you.”
“Oh,” she said, closing her book and scratching the back of her sand filled mane. “Just some thoughts on the day. That’s all. I promise it isn’t anything vulgar or controversial.”
“Oh, I wasn’t worried about that,” replied the yellow pegasus with a smile. “I was just curious since you looked so drawn in to what you were writing.”
“Hey, I’m kinda hungry,” said a unicorn with a rumbling stomach. “Can we get something to eat?”
“Oh, I wish we could,” said Fluttershy. “But I didn’t bring any bits with me. I guess we’ll have to go back to the hospital and get something there.”
The hospital?
“But I hate their food!” she replied, crossing her front legs and pouting. “It tastes like garbage.”
“Now now, Sweetie. Not all of their food is bad. Remember the cheese pizza slice we shared last night? Those ponies worked so hard to make that especially delicious for us after we returned the last four slices we bought.”
I wonder…
“Yeah, because those other four slices tasted like garbage!” The restless filly got up from her chair and stomped her little hooves on the wooden floor.
“Now, Sweetie, there’s no reason for you to act like this,” Fluttershy said calmly.
“But I don’t wanna go back to the hospital! I wanna eat something here, right now!”
Octavia raised her sunglasses and watched as the filly pounded the ground with her hooves. Soon other ponies turned their attention to the annoyed unicorn, which set the older pegasus trying to calm her down in a state of unease.
“Come on, Sweetie. Please, can we go back to the hospital? I promise to bring you back tomorrow.”
“No! I don’t wanna go! No, no, no, no!”
Sweetie Belle began to scream as more and more ponies came to watch the spectacle unfold outside the restaurant. Fluttershy tried to hug the screaming filly, but was brushed off. At that moment, a burly stallion wearing a greasy apron stepped outside of the restaurant’s palm frond door and stood in the pegasus’s face, scowling at her.
“Excuse me ma’am, but I’m tryin' to run a business here, and I can’t do that when your kid is screamin' like a banshee and making holes in my floor!”
“I am so sorry,” she replied, trembling. “I-I’m trying really hard to calm her down. See, she’s just a little hungry so…”
“No I’m not. I’m really hungry!” Sweetie responded, pausing from her high pitched squealing.
“Then buy something here, or else shut her yapper and get her outta here,” boomed the stallion.
Fluttershy’s eyes began to water. “I-I know sir, but you see, I don’t have any bits, and so I…”
“Ah! My shells!”
The shaking pegasus turned her neck and gasped at the sight of all of Sweetie Belle’s shells tumbled on the floor.
“I-It’s okay Sweetie. Let’s just pick them up and…”
“Hey, who said you could make a mess on my floor!?”
“I’m so sorry sir, I’ll just be really quick and…”
“They’re broken! All of them are broken!” Sweetie yelled, then proceeded to scream even louder.
At this point, Fluttershy hunched over the broken mess and tried to brush all of the remnants into the toy bucket. Several of the pieces fell through the cracks of the plank floor, which sent the little unicorn into a frenzied fit.
“You’re dropping them!”
“I’m so sorry Sweetie. I’m trying really hard.”
“Hey lady! I ain’t got all day! Either you buy something now, or I’ll throw the two of you outta here!”
“Oh!” Fluttershy stopped her gathering and searched through her saddle bag for any bits she could scavenge. When she turned over a hoof revealing two bits, the stallion scoffed.
“Is that it? You expect to feed your starvin' kid with that?”
“Well, I…”
“Listen. Not only are you a bad parent, but you’re a lousy cleaner too! Get offa my porch, you and your bratty little twerp!”
Fluttershy burst into tears. A respectable crowd had gathered in front of the beach side restaurant during the whole ordeal, which aggravated the cellist sitting still in her wicker chair. She stood to her hooves and planted her face up into the burly stallion’s.
“Excuse me!”
“Huh? And whadda you want, mare?”
Octavia took her sunglasses off. “I demand to see the manager.”
“You’re lookin’ at him.”
“Really,” she shot back. “I would expect the manager to be a kind and courteous pony, not some bloated bag of moldy scraps like you!”
“Hey, I won’t take none of that from you or your little fillyfriend here, missy!”
“And just who do you think you’re talking to, hmm Barney?”
The stallion jerked back. “Huh? How’d you know my name?”
“Does the name Oliver mean anything to you?”
He cocked his head to one side and scratched his head. “Well, I used to know an Oliver. He came around quite a bit with his little filly. Nice ponies, him and his…” He peeked at the cellist’s cutie mark and gasped. “Wait a minute. Octy!?”
“Hello, Barney,” she said flatly.
“Oh my gosh! Octy! Hey! How ya been!?”
“Oh, I’ve been a lot better.” Octavia jerked her head towards Barney’s nervous expression. “Especially better than now after you’ve treated Fluttershy and Sweetie Belle like trash!”
“L-L-Look, I’m real sorry about all that, but I gotta business to run, and they’re…”
“Then I suggest that you act like a competent manager and learn how to deal with inconveniences like this one with more professionalism.”
“Well, yeah, but…”
“I am going to ask you to do three things that will make up for your stupidity, and you better get them right or else,” she said, pointing a hoof in his face.
“Y-Yeah sure, whatever you want. Consider it done!”
“First,” she began. “You will apologize to Fluttershy for your unnecessary rudeness.”
“Apologize to the fillyfriend, got it.”
“And after you’ve apologized to my fillyfr- I mean, friend,” she shot a quick apologetic to Fluttershy, who grinned. “You will send somepony out to clean up this mess.”
“Consider it done. Lenny!”
“And lastly, and this is very important.”
Barney didn’t move a single muscle as a much smaller stallion made his way past the two and swept up the shelly mess beside a stunned Fluttershy.
“You are going to prepare the finest, tastiest, scrumptious, crispy, juicy veggie tenders and fries you can make. And, you will add an extra-large strawberry milkshake with extra sprinkles free of charge. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yay!” shouted Sweetie Belle.
Barney brought his chef’s hat down and wrung it between his hooves. “I really am sorry for all of this Octy. I didn’t know I was bein' so rude. Times have been tough and all with all these changes to the village. You understand.”
Octavia’s face softened. “I do, Barney. And I appreciate the hard work you put in to keep the legacy of this wonderful place alive. But acting the way you did doesn’t help. Now, will you pretty please do as I requested.”
The large chef repositioned his hat and gave his long lost customer a wink and a smile. “Sure thing, Octy! One order of the best veggie tenders around with a strawberry milkshake coming right up!”
“Yay!” shouted the crowd, along with rousing applause.
“Oh,” said Barney, turning on a hoof before bolting into the kitchen. “And, uh, sorry about my attitude towards ya, Fluttershy. That was wrong of me. You want somethin’ too. It’ll be free of charge.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said, wiping her eyes. “And I forgive you.”
Barney shifted his attention to Octavia. “How about you, Octy?”
“How about the usual,” she said, winking.
“You got it, kid!”
“So, how did you like your meal, Sweetie Belle?” asked Octavia.
“They were amazing! The best veggie tenders I ever had!” cried Sweetie Belle.
Octavia and Fluttershy smiled at the ecstatic filly’s response as they walked down the moonlit boardwalk next to the ocean. Ponies were leaving the closing shops and making their way to the parking lot, toting large bags of souvenirs and special occasion clothing. The trio however lingered behind, watching the moon rise over the black waters.
“It’s so beautiful here at Seaport Village,” remarked Fluttershy. “I wonder if any sea creatures lurk around these parts.”
“Well,” Octavia said. “There have been times where my father and I spotted a sea serpent or two skimming the surface of the water like a lightning bolt. But other than that, it’s mostly annoying sea gulls.”
“Wow, that’s amazing!” said the pegasus, surprised at her own volume.
The cellist just chuckled. “Yes, it was quite a sight. Are you interested in the marine wildlife?”
“I love all animals,” she replied. “I spend almost all my time with the woodland creatures back home. I love to take care of them when they’re in need.”
“I see. And where is home, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Ponyville. I live very close to the Everfree Forest in a cottage built out of a tree.”
“Ponyville, you say?” Octavia let out a laugh. “What a small world we live in!”
Fluttershy squeaked in confusion. Just as Octavia was about to enlighten the perplexed mare, Sweetie Belle came running full steam with a large grin on her face.
“Fluttershy! Can I have a bit please?”
“What do you need a bit for?” she asked.
“There’s a telescope thingy right over there, and I need a bit to see through it. Can I have one, please?”
“Of course.” She hoofed the small filly a bit. “Have fun!”
The filly snatched the bit and was off.
The yellow pegasus let out a soft chuckle then redirected her gaze to the open sea. She paused to look out into the dark night and spotted several tall ships bobbing peacefully over the surface. The cellist stood next to her and watched the ships as well.
“She’s not your daughter, is she?”
“Oh, you mean Sweetie Belle?”
Octavia nodded.
“No, she’s actually the sister of a good friend of mine. I’m just watching her until she gets here tomorrow.”
“Your friend is coming to Canterlot tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she replied, flicking a few strands of pink mane from her face. “All of us are here in Canterlot really. To see the sister of another friend of mine.”
“And this sister of another friend lives in Canterlot, too?”
“Huh?” Fluttershy shook her head. “Can you repeat that please? I got a little confused.”
“Of course, sorry.” Octavia paused to put her words together. “This sister that you all are coming to see. Does she live in Canterlot, or is she also from Ponyville?”
“Oh, I see what you mean. She’s also from Ponyville. All of us are from Ponyville.”
“So why is she here, in Canterlot?”
“Who, the friend or the sister?”
“The friend. I mean, the sister’s friend. No I meant…Ugh!” The confused earth pony stopped.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mix you up like that,” Fluttershy said.
“No, it’s alright, it’s not your fault. Why don’t you explain to me why it is everypony is here.”
“Gotcha! Well, we are all here visiting Sweetie Belle’s friend, who is in the hospital.”
Octavia pointed a hoof in the air. “The sister of the friend from Ponyville who is also from Ponyville, correct?”
“Yes!” the yellow pony replied, pausing to think. “She got a terrible stomach problem that needed advanced medical attention, so her and her big sister (my friend) came to the Canterlot Medical Center by train to admit her.”
“So the friend’s sister is the one hospitalized. And you are watching the sister of another friend until that friend, not the one with the ill sister, arrives tomorrow, right?”
“Exactly!”
“Whew,” exclaimed the cellist. “Glad we got that straightened out!”
A moment of silence passed until something clicked in Octavia’s mind.
“Wait a minute.”
“Yes?” Fluttershy asked.
“This pony that is admitted to the hospital. Her name wouldn’t be Apple Bloom, would it?”
The pegasus’s eyes grew wide. “It is. How did you know?”
“It truly is a small world.” Octavia explained to Fluttershy her encounter with Applejack on the bus last week.
“Wow, it is a small world.”
“How is she doing, Fluttershy?”
The yellow pony sighed. “Well, the surgery was a success, but she still needs to spend about two weeks in the hospital before they let her go. The poor thing. She gets tired so easily and never wants to eat a single bite, even of her favorite dishes from home. It’s a side effect from all the pain killers they’re giving her, but she still has to eat by force. Poor Sweetie Belle got so stressed watching one of her best friends suffer so much, I thought it would be nice to take her out for walk to get her mind off things. That’s when we ran into Seaport Village. It was like an answer to prayer. I mean look at her.”
The two talking mares turned to face Sweetie Belle waving wildly at them from a distance, stooped behind a white telescope pointed right at them. Both waved back.
“So,” Octavia began. “Do you think that perhaps the Apple family wouldn’t mind if I paid a visit sometime in the near future?”
Fluttershy’s eyes widened again, then her face burst into a smile. “Of course! That would be wonderful! I’m sure they’d love to have you come and pay a visit to Apple Bloom. I know Applejack would appreciate some new company as well. And Sweetie Belle would like to see you too, I bet.”
“And you?” Octavia asked.
Fluttershy couldn’t help the color rushing to her cheeks. “Oh, uh, well, yeah. I guess I’d like to see you too, again, as well.”
Before Octavia could clarify, Sweetie barged in. “Hey Fluttershy, can I have another bit? It ran out and I still wanna spot all the ships going by.”
“I’m so sorry Sweetie, but it’s getting late and we need to head back to the hospital.”
“Do we have to?” Sweetie pouted. She began her little stomps on the ground, but stopped when she felt Octavia’s hoof come over her shoulder.
“Hey Sweetie Belle, can I ask you something?”
“Uh, sure. Whaddya wanna know?” she said, turning.
“Well, I wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind if I came over to the hospital to visit Apple Bloom and you this Saturday. Maybe we can come back and I can show you all of the great things Canterlot has to offer. What do you think of that idea?”
The little unicorn’s eyes lit up. “Really!? You’d do that!?”
“Of course! What are friends for?”
“Oh, thanks Octy! You're the best!” Sweetie Belle threw her hooves around the cellist’s neck and crushed her bow tie against her chest. Octavia returned the favor with a single hoof, patting the filly’s head.
“But you have to listen to Fluttershy and go back to the hospital, got it?”
“Yessir!”
Sweetie Belle ran over to Fluttershy and hopped onto her lowered back. The yellow pony looked up at Octavia and mouthed the same words from earlier. As Fluttershy was about to take off, Sweetie Belle tapped the pegasus on the head.
“Oh wait Fluttershy, I forgot something.”
Fluttershy didn’t move.
Sweetie hopped off and sprinted to Octavia, grasping a small book from her saddle bag with her mouth.
“Here. You left this back at the restaurant. I don’t think you wanna lose it here if you got important secret stuff in it.”
“No I certainly wish not to! Thank you Sweetie Belle!”
The little unicorn nodded and returned to Fluttershy’s back, and the two took off into the night sky towards the hospital. Octavia smiled walked slowly down the boardwalk towards the streets where her bus stop back home lay. She was about to open her book when something fell out of it and landed softly on the ground.
“Hmm? What’s this, a napkin?”
Octavia picked it up and shook it open. Inside was a crude drawing of three ponies, one unicorn, one pegasus, and one earth pony, all holding hooves surrounded by a heart. And written in messy hoofwriting were the words:
Sweetie Belle
Fluttershy
Ocktavia
BFFs
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d'aaaaaaw Sweetie Bell.
HNNNGH! My body can't handle all this cute
*Sniff* that's so cute.
You can have all my d'aaaaws.....
YOU! UPDATE THE NEXT CHAPTER NAO!
Every time this fic updates, a little squee sounds out in my head.
I think I'm the one who has to go to hospital with a bad case of HEART MELT
Well, "Octavia Takes the Bus" updated. My day's about to get a lot more depressing.
*reads*
D'aaaw...
Dat ending... HNNNNNNG. It's a nice but not out of place change of pace from the story's usually more gloomy tone and demeanor.
Keep up the quality writing man!
Just before clicking on this chapter, I started thinking of this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZkouut-9RQ&t=01m00s
...and I found myself humming, "Dun. Dun. Dun. Octavia rides the bus."
Just before clicking on this chapter, I started thinking of this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZkouut-9RQ&t=01m00s
...and I found myself humming, "Dun. Dun. Dun. Octavia rides the bus."
Amazing storytelling and voice, as usual. Found a few things here and there.
-The phrase "it's a small world" gets repetitive.
-Why would Sweetie Belle be complaining about going to visit her friend, even if it is in the hospital? Seems OOC
-Barney remembers Octavia, and that makes him feel bad, but the reaction with apologizing and giving into Tavi's demands seems like you're pushing it. Needs more explanation, like her father was a friend, good for a laugh, or gave him a hand somehow.
-Some little wording is a bit off / unclear. "which set the older pegasus trying to calm her down in a state of unease."
I'm loving how she learns and experiences new things with each excursion
TOO MUCH D'AWW!
i.imgur.com/hueEM.gif
Loving this story! Who knew that starting to take the bus would be such an emotional and life changing rollercoaster
I feel like this story might benefit from a sad tag. Good read otherwise.
I'm amazed at how much emotion you can draw out by mixing tragedy with the lighter side of things. Wonderful use of the boardwalk modernizing as a focal point to the power of change; I can really sympathize with poor Barney with all the tides that are washing away his memories.
I like how you keep using the mane 6 is cameos here, to unintentionally teach Octavia friendship. Very clever.
And after this lovely day, Octavia gets home to find her mother...
...turned into a chocolate statue, with a note stuck with a pin to one eye:
"I was enthralled by your performance at the gala, especially that impromptue addition by Pinkie Pie. The chaos was delicious! Think of this as my way of demonstrating my gratitude. I'd have petrified her so she'd keep longer, but you know, I don't turn ponies into stone. Sincerely, insanely yours, Discord. ."
And suddenly Octavia finds herself thinking that maybe Discord gets a bad rap.
I can't believe how fast paced this story is, in terms of both plot, and emotion. Seeing Seaport Village in the condition it is now, and what is used to be for Octavia, had me on the verge of tears. The only thing that stopped me from crying was the introduction of Fluttershy and Sweetie Belle. Although I thought Sweetie Belle was off character, she was more realistic, and in that sense, fitting for the story. Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about the sad and longing feelings of Octavia being cut off so suddenly. It could be good or bad, depending or perspective. Either way, I can't wait until the next chapter comes out!
An improvement from the last chapter, keep it up.
Haw haw! I luv Ocktavia Storys!!1!
Ignoring that...
Sweetie Belle seemed a little bratty here. I mean, wouldn't Rarity try to teach her how to behave like a 'proper lady'? I suppose it could be because of the hospital fiasco but maybe you need to have another look at the characterisation. I actually don't think any of the CMC would act in such a way.
Even so, it's good to see everything falling into place. Also do I detect TaviShy shipping?
Wait a second
"I would always ask (okay, more like implore) you to take me to get my favorite flavor: black cherry with sprinkles."
625546
I wish my transit experience was as rewarding. Remember the first day's ride for Octy? The cruelty, the stench, the wretched and unclean... and those were just the seats! The other riders? Oh, don't get me started! That's totally my life. Sigh!
Such a great story though. One of my personal favorites.
Sweetie felt a bit out-of-character, but it was made up for by her sheer cuteness.
640384
Ah! A fellow San Diegan and Seaport Villager!
I haven't lived there for twelve years, but I fondly remember my dad taking us to Seaport as kids all the time. I too adored the carousel and the little shops. The boats bobbing on the surface of the cool Pacific was always a joy to see. But my favorite part was always the Wyland Gallery. I was a huge fan (and still am!) of his awesome paintings and sculptures of marine life and I loved perusing through the collections there.
Maybe this summer I'll take a day or two to revisit and reminisce about the good days...
Oh, and I'm happy you're enjoying the story!
*After heart recovers*
You go Tavi!
I wonder why I've been putting off reading this piece.
1210019
Nice song! I like it