Benjamin Johnson, Battlony

by aricaitlyn

Red Herring Lemonade

I left the rest stop and began walking around. According to the map I had picked up from the front reception desk, I was in Kentucky. I think I’d been here before, maybe on a vacation or to see relatives.

A small building on the corner caught my eye. It wasn't just the fact that it was just a small, locally-owned lemonade shop (I was pretty thirsty, though), it was in literally the middle of nowhere. The road that the rest stop was located on had stopped, marking this as a dead end. I was almost to the door when I heard a noise. It sounded like hooves trotting against dirt. Before I knew it, I was standing face-to-face with a pony. Her coat color was tan and her eyes were bright red. Her mane was a mix of red, green, and earthy brown. Her cutie mark (is that the word?) was a vibrant green cactus, despite the fact that there were no cactuses in Kentucky. Probably.

"Hi!" she squeaked, distracting me from my over-analysis of her little pony body.

I waved. “Uh, hello.”

“Welcome to town!” She grinned and offered me a cold glass of lemonade, almost out of nowhere. I took a sip, and it was quite refreshing.

"Thank you." I grinned, trying to act hospitable.

“You’re very welcome, Ben.”

I took another sip. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

The pony giggled and disappeared. The lemonade glass dropped out of my hand and broke on the concrete. I was confused. How could she vanish just like that? Am I hallucinating? What was in that lemonade she gave me? I shrugged it off and entered the building called "Donna's Deserted Lemonade Bar".

The bell above the door rang as I stepped in. The room was full of people sitting at cafe tables and sipping lemonade, but instead of looking happy and hospitable, they looked outright terrified. One of the women, a middle-aged blonde, sat in the fetal position. Another customer, a man, hid under his table and gripped a Swiss army knife in his shaking hands.

A girl about my age wearing an apron and a gold locket stood behind the counter, polishing a glass with a washcloth. Her hands were unsteady and shaky. "Oh, hi," she said meekly. "I'll be with you in a minute. Take a seat at the bar."

I took a seat and she stood up fully. She put a glass on the bar and filled it with fresh lemonade from a pitcher. "Lemonade, on the house."

"Thank you," I replied. I took a sip.

"Have you been seeing those ponies, too?" the girl asked, her voice tremulous.

I immediately spit my lemonade out in shock. "So I'm still sane?!"

"Of course you are," she replied, turning to clean another glass. The back pocket of her jeans was exposed, and I saw the tip of a blade poking out.

"A blade? What's that for?" I asked.

She spun around and got in my face. "It's to protect myself," she said through clenched teeth.

"The ponies," the girl continued, retracting the blade. "Everyone can see them. They’re real, and they’re why my parents up and left town. They couldn‘t handle it, but they…left me to defend myself."

"Sounds a heck of a lot like my story,” I said.

“Your story?" She folded her arms on the bar. "What happened?”

I sighed. “Well, I’m supposed to be moving from Indiana to North Carolina. But my mom left me at a rest stop. By accident. Heh heh. And the car broke down. Better to be here than to be in a broken-down car with my chaotic family. I guess.”

“Oh, that sucks. Sure hope you get to see your parents sometime.” The girl tilted her head down, her auburn bangs falling over her eyes.

“I’m really sorry about your situation, miss. Really wish I could help.” I freed my arm to stroke her back.

“Thanks,” she said softly, biting her lip. Her voice sounded thick, almost as if she was about to cry.

“No, d-don’t cry. We can help ourselves here,” I reassured her, stroking her back.

“How?”

I immediately pulled back my hand and blushed. “Uh..."

"How?" she repeated.

"By fighting those ponies.“ I tried to sound brave, but it probably came off as cheesy. “Are they evil?”

The girl nodded. “Yeah, they’re pretty bad, but I've been fighting them for a while, ‘cause nobody 'round here has ever seen talkin' ponies. Most of the people who are still around live in fear of the ponies, as you can see.“ She held out her hand for a handshake. "Name's Donna. I'm thirteen years old, and a Level 10 fighter. What's your name?"

"Ben," I replied, shaking her hand. "I'm twelve years old, and I don‘t think I have a level."

“Well, you must be new here, Ben,” Donna said sarcastically. “You met with Froot Loop yet? She and the Applejacks are on our side."

"Froot Loop?" I asked. "No. But I did see a cactus pony. Tan-colored? Offered me lemonade?”

Donna shrugged. “No clue. Probably a deceiver pony.”

“Deceiver pony?”

“Sent by Celestia to mislead you. Y'know. The red herrings of the pony world,” Donna stated.

“Ah.”

“Well, are we gonna see Froot Loop and the Applejacks, or not?” Without an answer, Donna grabbed a sword and shield from behind the counter and began to drag me out the door.

"Donna, I don't think this is such a good idea. They‘re ponies. We're humans. If there’s anything I learned in school, it’s that opposites do not attract.”

Comments

[Parcly Taxel]

You should have some more words describing how things happen around the characters, and not just what the characters feel. But I'm still supportive of this.

[aricaitlyn]

>>Parcly Taxel

Thanks! I'm still not the greatest writer, but I could be a lot worse!