Secrets of the Everfree

by PaisleyPerson

Chapter 45: Flim Flam Miracle Curative Tonic

Chapter 45
Flim Flam Miracle Curative Tonic

“Torch? Blaze? Oh, for Celestia’s sake! Why is no one ever home?” I growled. Ever since Charcoal’s fire surge at the Cake’s, his powers had only gotten stronger. Usually, a thestral foal’s abilities would become less sporadic and powerful as they gained more control over it, but not Charcoal. Perhaps it was his dragon genes, or maybe he was just destined to be a fire dancer (his father was quite thrilled at this possibility), but at just two months, my son was going out of control. Even my parents found him a handful, as did Meteor and Rose. Wild Flower and I usually managed to wrangle the child, but she couldn’t stay every day. Torch always seemed to be at work, and since Blaze had discovered flight, there seemed no way to tie him down. He had gone off to visit his brother today, and there was no way I was going to let my friends assist with Charcoal’s surges flaring up as they were. I was unpracticed in the art of fire dancing, true, but even I should be able to put out the fire of a two month old baby.

“I’ll even take Heckley right about now,” I muttered, quenching the blue blaze on the dresser just for another one to spring up in the crib. An obligatory hiss sounded from beside me, and I realized that Heckley had indeed arrived to see how he could be of assistance. My scowl finally showed the hint of a smile. At least there was one I could always depend on. “Alright, Heckley, here’s what we’re going to do. You go around and try to distract him with some of his favorite toys. I’ve got to get these fires put out before he burns down the house!” Heckley responded with a dutiful nod of acknowledgement.

The snake was incredibly fast, and I only saw a blackish blur zip across the hardwood floor, nimbly picking his way through the maze of flames criss crossing the floor. I focused my efforts here to try and give him a clear path. I just had to be careful; sometimes instead of taking over Char’s fire, he’d take over mine, which only made the blaze bigger. But Charcoal seemed to realize that Heckley was nearby, and being rather fond of the snake, voluntarily gave up some of the fire that could be potentially dangerous. While he welcomed the visiting snake, he didn’t put the other fires out.

Heckley tried his best to offer toys in exchange for extinguished flames, but Charcoal wasn’t buying it. Heckley then left the cradle and wound up the dresser in search of a weightier peace offering. He sifted through the toys and supplies stored on top, and accidentally knocked over a stack of Rarity’s baby bibs (we hadn’t been using them because if he didn’t like the fit, he’d burn it off). Most of the stack bounced off the edge of the crib and onto the floor, but one found its way onto Charcoal’s head. With his vision obscured beneath the cloth, all fire went out. I felt about ready to wilt with relief when I realized we’d won, but then he began to cry.

“Char,” I groaned, wearily shuffling forward to tend to the foal. I lifted the bib off his head, which only made his screeches more ear-piercing. “Shh!” I tried bouncing him on my shoulder, offering his baby bottle, his binky, his ferret toy and even resorted to Pinkie’s method of peek-a-boo. Nothing worked.

“Why are you acting like this?” I exasperatedly sighed, almost ready to break down myself. “You wouldn’t do this if your father were home. Why can’t you behave for Mommy?”

“Uh, hello? Is anyone coming?” My heart dropped like a stone when I realized a customer had been ringing the bell downstairs for service. I hastily returned the wailing baby to the crib.

“Watch him, Heckley.”

“Ugh, it’s about time,” a rather snobbish customer growled as I rushed behind the counter. The mare waiting behind her didn’t appear to be in the best of moods, either.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy. So, is this all for you?” I began ringing up the merchandise placed on the counter as quickly as I could to make up for lost time. In my rush, though, I ended up dropping a box of colored pencils, and they scattered about the floor. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. Here, let me get you a different box, in case the leads broke.” She irritably rolled her eyes and audibly huffed, but said nothing when I worked my way back around the counter.

“You know, we could’ve just walked out with this stuff,” the mare behind her pointed out, obviously hoping for conversation for their wait. Unfortunately, that was something I wasn’t in a position to afford.

“Well, I’m sincerely glad you didn’t. Thank you for waiting,” I matter-of-factly replied, selecting an identical box of pencils from the shelf. She frowned, trying to formulate another approach to barter for a lower price. As I pushed back through the gate and resumed punching numbers in the register, the first customer gasped in horror.

“That’s the foal that almost killed Pumpkin!”

“The devil child?!”

“What?” I turned and realized that Charcoal had followed me downstairs, and Heckley was doing a pitiful job of herding him back. Finally accepting that blocking his path wouldn’t work, the snake wound around his body, hoping that if he pulled hard enough, he could steer Char back upstairs. Charcoal didn’t actually go anywhere, but Heckley was succeeding in tipping them both over.

“That thing is choking him!” one of the ladies shrieked.

“What kind of madhouse are you running?” the other agreed, thoroughly horrified.

“No, it’s not like that!”

“Don’t count on my service anymore,” the first one declared before charging out the door, dropping her would-be-purchase on the ground.

“Me either,” the second also abandoned her goods and stormed out. I felt like I’d been slapped in the face.

“Well, good riddance! I wouldn’t sell to you anyway! And NO ONE calls my son a devil!” I screamed. It was probably a very good thing they were out of earshot by now, because my tantrum was concluded with several remarks I’d have regretted if anyone else was listening. Actually, I wasn’t even all that sure of what I had said or done. The next thing I knew, I was curled up on the floor in a salty puddle of tears, trembling with anger and frustration. Heckley had given up on reigning in the baby altogether, and wove his way into my mane instead. The sensation brought back memories of the time we’d spent together in the Frozen North. He’d always been there when the world seemed to be crashing down, and this was no exception. The reassuring gesture put me a little more at ease, but even this couldn’t bring a real smile to my face.

“Hello? I’m home. What in Equestria-?” The bells jangled at the front door, and I recognized Torchwood’s voice. I shot up from my contorted position on the floor, anger renewed.

“Where have you been?” I accused, eyes blazing and ears flat. “Your shift ended hours ago!”

“What happened here?” he asked, completely ignoring me to better take in the chaotic scene before him. Books, pencils and brushes were strewn all over the floor from the ladies’ visit not long before. Between the mess and my crazed state, it must’ve looked like I’d completely lost it. “Did you do this?” he dazedly indicted.

“Do you really think I would trash my own shop?! Of course I didn’t do it, but you would know that if you’d come home after work!” His expression darkened to reflect my own anger.

“I see, so I’m under lockdown now?”

“Where were you? Off gallivanting with your pals again while I’m left to watch Charcoal all day by myself?”

“By yourself? Why wasn’t Blaze with you? Blaze?” he called out for the hatchling, just to be sure I wasn’t exaggerating.

“Oh, no. Don’t you bring Blaze into this. It’s not his job to take care of the baby, it’s ours. Why aren’t you ever home to take responsibility for your own son?”

“You want to talk about responsibility? I go out there every day and work my hindquarters off to keep food on the table!”

“Not as though Art Life wouldn’t provide enough as it is!”

“In this state I don’t think you can even call it a proper shop!” he countered, gesturing to the mess. We were both screaming by this point.

“I’m doing the best I can!”

“Well, you’re going to have to do better!”

“I can’t, Torchwood! That boy is out of control! Between Charcoal’s fire surges, unhappy customers, taking care of the house and teaching Cheerilee’s art class-” I froze as I realized I’d forgotten all about class today. Unfortunately, Torchwood read my mind.

“You didn’t go in to class today, did you?”

“I’d like to see you balance two jobs, household chores and a baby!” Behind me, Charcoal had obviously become fed up with our yelling by this point, because he contributed a yelp of his own, attracting his father’s attention.

“What’s the baby doing down here?”

“He’s down here because he feels like it. He won’t listen to me!”

“You’re his mother! You need to instill a little more discipline into him than that!” Torch crossly strode past me to tend to the baby himself. In his father’s arms, Charcoal finally stopped crying. I couldn’t take any more.

“FINE! I’d like to see you watch him for an hour!” I marched across the room, sure smoke was streaming out my ears.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s your turn to watch the baby,” was my only retort. Slamming the door behind me, I was finally gone.

I didn’t really know what to do next. I’d already cried myself dry. I nap on a nice, soft cloud far, far away sounded nice, but I soon realized that after a long day alone, I sought company rather than solitude. But which of my friends should I turn to? Mom would probably have marital advice, but I really didn’t feel like a lecture about how I shouldn’t yell at my husband. I already knew it was wrong, and felt bad, but I was still too angry to apologize. So who else would have sound advice on resolving family problems?

Applejack. The Apple family was so extensive that surely she’d run into a few spouts over her lifetime. With this destination in mind, I took to the skies.

---

“Well, howdy-do, Acrylic! What brings ya to the farm?” Granny Smith had opened the door.

“I was hoping to ask Applejack for some advice,” I admitted.

“Well, she’s gone down by the waterin’ hole with Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh to swim. I told ‘em I’d join ‘em in a bit, soon as I dug out my old aquapony duds! You’re welcome to tag along.”

“That’s okay,” I declined, not wishing to take her away from a fun family activity to dump all my problems on her. “Actually... you might be able to help, if that’s alright.”

“Me?” she looked surprised, perhaps because we didn’t often speak. But then her whole disposition brightened. “Well, I’d be pleased as punch! Take a seat!” She gestured to one of the rockers on the porch, and completely exited the house herself. I purposefully avoided the nearest one, as that was the rocker I always saw Granny in, and took a seat at the far end of the porch. “Now, what seems to be the problem, youngin’?” It took me a moment to actually work up the gumption to say anything.

“It’s my husband,” I confessed at last. Once I opened my mouth, however, I couldn’t seem to shut up. Granny listened intently, empathetically, compassionately the whole time I poured my heart out. I told her everything, about Charcoal’s stubbornness and desultory fire surges, about the overwhelming stress and responsibility being a mother had proved to be, and even about the vulgar, low, disrespectful behavior of those two customers this morning.

“This has been our third fight this month. I know kids put stress on the marriage, but this is getting out of hoof. I just can’t do it all anymore,” I concluded. “I feel like Torchwood’s never home. I know it was wrong of me to yell at him, but... I just... I feel...” I bit my lip and abandoned the thought for lack of proper words.

“Like the world’s collapsin’ ‘round ya and if ya gotta put up with another minute of that doggone husband o’ yours or the baby you’ll break?” Granny finished. I could only stare at her a moment. Those wouldn’t have been my exact words, but they relayed my thoughts perfectly.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, dearie, every mother feels that way at some point,” Granny sympathetically chuckled. “Believe me, I went through it twice, raisin’ my kids and then my grandbabies.” I just bowed my head in submissive agreement, not sure how to respond.

“So what do I do?”

“Well, I’m not so sure how you’d tackle a thestral colt,” she rubbed her chin. “He does sound like an awful handful.”

“I just don’t have the energy to keep up with him,” I agreed. “He’s turning my mane gray.”

“Say! I’m afraid I can’t help ya with your kid, but that’s somethin’ I can fix!” She got up and moved back inside.

“What, my mane? I refuse to use hair dye,” I called in after her.

“Good, good. I don’t like that stuff either,” she had something in her mouth, so the response came out a bit muffled. When she emerged again, Granny Smith offered me a bottle of some green fluid.

“What’s this?”

“The Flim Flam Miracle Curative Tonic!” she proudly presented, shoving the vial into my hooves. “Ever since I’ve been drinkin’ this, I feel as young, confident and spritely as ever! I ain’t even afraid of the water no more! If it worked for me, I’d betcha anythin’ it’ll smooth out them bags under your eyes.”

“Really?” I doubtfully raised an eyebrow and considered the tonic. “Didn’t the Flim Flam Brothers try to take over your farm the last time they were here?”

“Pfft! That was years ago!” she casually laughed, dismissing the matter as a trivial matter of the past. “They’re honest business ponies now! Try it! This here tonic is Granny Smith tested and Applejack approved, after all.”

“Applejack says it works?”

“Absolutely!”

“Well... that’s good enough for me.” Trusting in the Element of Honesty’s judgement, I uncorked the bottle and took a swig. It was strangely tangy flavor that reminded me a bit of apples, but perhaps that flavoring was just an ode to the Apple family sponsors.

“Oh, go ahead and down the whole thing, sugar cube,” Granny winked. “We got plenty to spare!”

“If you say so.” I shrugged and sucked down the rest of the solution.

“And? How do ya feel?” she prompted. It worked that fast? I considered the question a moment, mentally running a diagnostic on myself. Now that I thought about it, the troubles and stress of the day didn’t seem to matter so much.

“Better,” I decided. “Much better, actually! Thank you, Granny Smith!”

“Glad I could help,” the elder pony grinned. “I guess you’d better get back to it ‘fore the tonic wears off. Best of luck!” I bolted off the porch with renewed energy to begin the return trip home.

---

“I don’t know what you were whining about. He’s been fine the whole time,” Torch rigidly commented as I returned home.

“You know what? I’m not even going to argue with you.”

“That’d be a first.”

“Now who’s whining?” He clenched his jaw and moved on to the next room. I stopped by the nursery just to see how Charcoal was, and found him asleep. Spirits soaring ever higher, I quietly shut the door and returned downstairs. The nursery had been tidied up, but the lobby had not. I quietly began picking up the mess, wishing not to provoke my husband. Though he was just on the other side of the doorway reading the newspaper, neither of us spoke.

“Is Blaze coming home for dinner, or should I put something together?” after the nerve-wracking eternity of five minutes, he shattered the silence.

“I don’t know. He’s been spending a lot of time with his brother lately... you might want to write him and find out.”

“How will he respond? He doesn’t carry paper and pen on him at all times like Spike.”

“He’s smart. He can just use the back of your paper.”

“And the pen?”

“Send one with the letter,” I shrugged. He got up to fetch the supplies without another word. I released a breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding. I heard a puff from the back room, and Torchwood shortly returned to his paper. The letter had been sent.

I finished picking up the mess, and even went as far as to dust the shelves and sweep the floor. If I couldn’t put the tonic’s energy to use caring for the baby, at least I could still do something constructive. And at least now Torch couldn’t complain that it didn’t look like a ‘proper shop’. I heard the quiet eruption of fire, and the crinkling of paper as Torchwood unrolled the scroll. I put the broom away to wait for the final verdict.

“What’d he say?”

“He said, ‘Sorry, lost track of time. Coming home now’.”

“He’s just now on his way? It’s getting awfully late.”

“I’ll just go pick up takeout from the Hayburger. If you can handle Charcoal on your own, that is.” I glared at the jibe, and returned it with my ‘challenge accepted’ look.

“We’ll be fine,” I muttered through gritted teeth. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me, but he was already in the process of grabbing his saddlebags. He left without so much as a glance back.

Determined to prove my capability, I strode back into the kitchen to set the table. We could at least use proper plates with the fast food. I heard Charcoal rousing upstairs, so I hurried up rather than wait for him to start crying for me. He seemed to be in a far more pleasurable mood when he woke, and greeted me with light gurgling. I hadn’t quite finished downstairs, and still bent on confirming my own worth, I went ahead and placed Charcoal in the highchair. I knew he didn’t like the thing, so before he could protest, I provided a little white torch on the tabletop to entertain him. I usually reserved fire dancing as a last resort to counter his fire, so the freely provided fire came as a pleasant surprise.

“No bigger than that, Charcoal, I mean it,” I warned, fishing a jar of applesauce out of the refridgerator. Charcoal just laughed, and I felt my hold on the flame vanish as he took it over. When I turned around, I found the flame about the same size as I’d allowed. Rather impressed with his good behavior, I nodded in satisfaction.

I felt like I still had some energy left from that tonic, and with the baby occupied and the table set, I decided to get caught up on some paperwork. After all, it couldn’t hurt to come back to school with a peace offering after missing today without giving Cheerilee so much as a heads up. I deposited the saddlebags reserved solely for the school in one of the empty chairs, pulled out a couple of papers, the gradebook, along with a red pen, and got to it. I periodically looked up to check on Charcoal, but he was still entertained, so we each minded our own business and got along fine.

“So... sorry,” Blaze panted, the door slamming open as he tripped inside. “Lost track of... time. Only meant... to stay... an hour.”

“Well, I think you overshot it a little. It’s already seven,” I calmly pointed out, not even looking up from the papers.

“I’ll start dinner,” he hastily offered, as though this would make up for staying out.

“That’s alright. Torchwood already went out to pick up takeout from the Hayburger,” I informed.

“He did?” he sounded slightly disappointed.

“We didn’t know when you’d be back.”

“Charcoal! Don’t play with that!” Blaze noticed for the first time that Charcoal was tampering with a blue tongue of flame.

“It’s okay, let him play.”

“Uh... sorry, could you say that again? Because it sounded like you said to let him play with it.”

“Yes, I did.”

“But for a whole month, I’ve heard nothing but ‘don’t play with that,’ and ‘no fires, Charcoal!’ Now, just like that, it’s okay?”

“He isn’t hurting anything right now. If it gets out of hoof, I’ll put it out.”

“You feeling okay, Acrylic?”

“Actually, I feel better than I’ve been in a long time,” I almost laughed.

“What’s different?” he grinned, hoisting himself up into the seat beside Charcoal.

“I went to talk to Applejack today, just to visit,” I added a little too quickly, covering up the fact that Torch and I had been fighting again. He shot me a queer look to tell me he wasn’t buying it. “Anyway, I ended up having a nice conversation with Granny Smith. She introduced me to a tonic she’s been taking to give her some energy back. It seems to be helping.”

“Well, it must be doing something, ‘cuz you’ve sure been acting different. Good different, but different. I mean, all last month you and Charcoal were just about at each others throats, but today I walked in the door and you’re getting along just fine! How crazy is that?”

“Order up,” Torchwood gingerly held the door open while trying not to drop the bag of food.

“I got it,” Blaze slid out of his seat to get the door.

“Welcome back,” Torchwood somehow juggled the food to ruffle the hatchling’s spines. I put the papers away to clear space on the table. Blaze and Torchwood unloaded the bags, and I distributed it equally among the plates.

“Charcoal, it’s time to put that fire out, now. We have to eat,” the boy’s father instructed, putting out the flame with a mere flash of his own orange and green. Charcoal began to tear up at the rude extermination of his toy, but knew he was no match for his father.

“Hey, Charcoal, what’s this?” Blaze tried to distract him with a spoon of applesauce before he became too distressed.

“So what did Garble have to say, Blaze?” I asked, taking the first bite of my hayburger.

“The usual,” he shrugged. “Gilda was there. She’s actually pretty cool when she’s not trying to rob everyone blind. They’re all still eager to meet Charcoal, though.”

“And they’re all still welcome to come here.”

“Acrylic, maybe it’s time we let him go,” Torchwood suggested.

“These aren’t ponies, Torch, they’re dragons.”

“We’ll be gentle,” Blaze vowed.

“And besides, if he can hold his own against you, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Face it, Acrylic. You can hold your own in a whole flock of dragons, but you couldn’t wrangle your own child,” Torch light-heartedly chuckled. I, however, wasn’t taking it so lightly.

“I can now,” I argued. He dubiously raised an eyebrow.

“Really? You can turn things around just like that?”

“Granny Smith gave her a tonic to give her more energy,” Blaze explained.

“I see,” he laughed.

“It works,” I insisted. “Granny Smith tested it, and even Applejack approves.”

“Is that so?”

“Granny said after taking it, she’s even swimming again. You know how terrified of the water she was before. Said she’s felt younger than she ever has.”

“I don’t care what kind of tonic it is- no potion can make old ponies young again. Where did she get it, again?”

“The Flim Flam brothers.”

“The Flim-” Torch almost choked on his food laughing. “The twins that tried to jip the Apples out of their farm? You really think their tonic is going to give you more energy? Acrylic, I really think you’d be better off taking an extra cup of coffee.”

“Are you calling Applejack a liar?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“But you don’t believe her, either,” I narrowed my eyes.

“I’m just wondering if she has all the facts.”

“It’s Applejack! She wouldn’t risk her reputation and give it her stamp of approval if she wasn’t sure.”

“Hey, could someone pass the ketchup, please?” Blaze interrupted, feeling another fight coming on. I never looked away from Torchwood as I reached for the bottle. “Thanks.”

“I’m not really hungry.” I put the remainder of the barely-touched-sandwich in the fridge and dumped my dishes in the sink. I was just going up to the bedroom to sulk, but the tonic must’ve worn off, because I didn’t wake up until morning.

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[ShadowLight96]

And so it begins...