The Back Shelf

by Dizzy Daze

The Flotsam-Jetsam Family Cure-All

Eight little yellow hooves scampered around a tiny kitchen. Flora huffed as her twin sons once again smashed into the heavy wooden door as it creaked open. Their father, Copper Wire, poked his head in to ask a question of his wife, but was cut off by the wails of both colts.

Flora scooped them up in her magic, wrapping them in a comforting aura. She carried them over to the couch and sat down, inspecting them for any serious injuries.

Flim sniffled. "Mama, Flam pushed me into the door. 'N now my muzzle's probably broken."

Flam scowled. "Did not! You stopped right in front of me."

"Now, boys," Flora said gently. "It doesn't matter what happened. Let me see."

The boys sat quietly while their mother inspected their injuries. It was nothing serious; they were both just sore. She kissed them both lightly on the nose. "Better?" she asked.

"Better," they giggled. They jumped off of the couch and resumed their game of tag, or chase, or whatever they were calling it. Flora chuckled. "Be careful!" she called after them in vain.

---

"Come on, sleepyheads," Flora called to her boys. "It's almost time for school!"

No answer. She marched up to their room and swung open the door, only to find both of them huddled, shivering, into the same bed.

"I-I don't feel so good," Flam muttered.

"Me neither," Flim whined.

Flora tutted. "Oh, dear. What's wrong?"

"My tummy hurts--"

"And my head--"

"And my throat--"

"And my legs."

Their mother put a hoof to both of their foreheads. Neither of them seemed to have a fever.

"Goodness, you can't miss school today!" Flora said. "Mrs. Metric told us parents that today was supposed to be a surprise field trip! Oh, well..."

"What?" the colts asked simultaneously.

"Yeah," she agreed. Seemingly stumped, she thought for a moment. "Oh! I know what should make you feel better! Wait one second."

She tromped back downstairs, and Flim and Flam turned to each other. "Think we overdid it?" Flim asked.

"Nah," Flam replied. "I actually am starting to feel kinda sick."

Flora returned, holding two cups of green liquid in her magical grip. "Here. This should do it," she said, giving one to each of her sons.

They gulped it down. "This doesn't taste like medicine..." Flam said suspiciously.

"That's because it's not!" Flora replied. "It's a super-secret family recipe that my grandma used to make when I was just a little filly. She told me that it's supposed to cure anything."

"Anything?" Flim asked incredulously. "Even broken bones?"

"Anything," she affirmed.

"Weeeell," Flam said hesitantly, "I am feeling better. What about you, brother?"

Flim nodded eagerly. "Yep!"

They threw off the covers and ran down the stairs.

---

Flam let the front door slam closed behind him. Flora lifted her head up from her book to reprimand him, but faltered when she caught sight of his bruised face. She scrambled to get up.

"Honey, what happened?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

"Nothing," he lisped.

Flim burst through the doors, sporting a large cut over one eye. "Well, that was a bust," he complained.

Flora lifted an eyebrow. "What happened?" she repeated sternly.

The twins shrugged. "We got in a fight," Flim said casually.

Flora sighed. "What happened this time?" she asked wearily, herding them into the kitchen.

"It was nothing, really," Flam protested. "We were just telling Apple Cinnamon that we'd figured out a way to make better cider than him, and he got mad."

"Really mad," Flim agreed.

Flora bandaged up Flim's face and gave Flam a towel full of ice to hold over his bruises. "You're too old to keep getting into fights," she sighed. She took two cups of the green liquid out of the fridge and handed them to her sons. "Here, drink these."

They downed the tonic, and Flam's bruises appeared to shrink. "Thanks, Mom," they chorused.

She waved them off. "Get out of here, and go think about how you're going to apologize to that colt tomorrow."

They slunk off abashedly.

---

Flora coughed wetly, shaking her frail frame. Her sons were crowded around her bed.

"Can I get you anything?" Flam asked.

"I am a little thirsty," she admitted, her voice rasping.

Flam ran down the stairs to fetch his mother some water. He reached into the fridge to pull out a cold pitcher, and caught sight of another pitcher, this one filled with slightly congealed, green liquid. He grabbed both in his magic and ran back up the steps. "Mom! I've got something that'll make you feel better!"

She lifted her head. "Hmm?" She saw the green sludge. "Oh, not that stuff, honey. It's at least four years old. I haven't made any since you two moved out."

Flim nodded eagerly. "Okay, that's no problem. We can just make more, right?"

Flora shook her head and beckoned her sons to come closer. She put a hoof on each of their cheeks. "I appreciate the thought, boys. But I'm old now; there's not much here for me anymore. Your father's already moved on."

Flam shuddered. "No! Mom, just tell us how to make it. You'll feel better, I promise."

She inclined her head. "I keep the recipe in my nightstand. But, please--"

Flim cut her off, pulling the drawer open and rifling through, pulling out a small piece of parchment. "Is this it?" he asked. She nodded. He made to run back down to the kitchen, but his mother caught him, holding onto his tail with her weak threads of magic.

"Please," she asked. "Just sit with me for a little bit. My boys." She smiled fondly at them. "I love you both very much."

She coughed once more, and the effort seemed to drain her of all of her energy. She drifted away, her eyelids sliding shut. Flim and Flam watched in mute horror, but sighed in relief as they saw the steady rise and fall of her chest. The only noise in the room was the rather loud sound of her labored breathing.

"Come on, brother," Flim whispered. "Let's see if we can figure this out while she's asleep."

They trotted quietly out of their mother's room, leaving the door open behind them. Flam stopped in the middle of the hallway. "Oh, hold on," he said. "I'll go get that old tonic. Give me a minute."

He doubled back and reentered the silent bedroom, lifting the pitcher. He headed back out the door, but paused for a minute in the doorway. Wait, silent?

---

Flam trudged down into the kitchen a few minutes later. "Took you long enough," Flim commented. "Listen, I got it all figured out already. It's actually pretty simple."

"It won't help," Flam said despondently.

Flim scoffed. "Don't be that way. Can't you remember all the amazing stuff it did when we were little? I mean, look at how easy it is! Who would've thought?" He levitated the recipe in front of his brother's face.

"That's not what I mean," Flam snapped.

Flim's magic flickered out, and the slip of parchment dropped as fast as his grin. It fell to the floor, faceup, and Flora's careful mouthwriting spelled out:
Flotsam-Jetsam Cure-All Tonic:
-Apples (1)
-Beet leaves (3)
-Love