Crying in a Bottle

by Starlight_Flight

Busywork

Chapter Two: Busywork

In the morning there was a bit of bustle in the household, and Trixie woke to the sound of it feeling stiff, sore, disoriented, and in need of a bathroom. A rooster was crowing even though the sun was already up. Trixie tested her voice, whispering, "Mother?" Though she was wrapped in a warm blanket, the inner warmth didn't come. "Mother? Are you there?" The emptiness felt so wrong. "Mommy?!" Fear surged and Trixie tried to stand suddenly, instead falling with a crash to the floor as she struggled with the blanket.

Harvest Full gave an "Oh, my!" and was there in a moment, helping Trixie to her feet. The filly was shivering and twitching a little, looking around for threats.

"You aren't- uh... oh, no." Trixie closed her eyes for a moment, and tried to push down the tears once again. Mommy, was it all illusion when I felt you, she thought. She managed to keep from breaking down, and went in to meet everyone in the kitchen for breakfast.

A chorus of "Good morning"s, and then Harvest Full went around the table introducing ponies. "This is Sunny Road, he's my farmhand. A good, reliable worker, plus he does most of the hauling to market for me. He'll be showing you three the ropes once you've had breakfast." She ruffled the fluff of mane on the earth pony's head. "This is Dusty Tales. He travels around finding new folk stories to share. Seems there aren't a lot these days, though. This young gentlecolt is Bindlestick. I guess seeing the world is his thing, but he's had a share of trouble lately. And this lovely filly is Trixie. She's usually a performer, but we'll see how well she performs her chores this morning."

They set to, Harvest passing around bowls of oatmeal and plates of apple pancakes, topping off the glasses of water. Bindlestick smiled and thanked her for every item, almost making Trixie sick with how slavish he seemed. The Great and Powerful don't need to grovel, she thought, but then another part of her answered back, Could he just be grateful? She didn't know. Dusty seemed to be watching the room, as if he were sizing up the competition, or looking for something to take with him when he left.

"Ma'am, if I could ask, where's Mr. Full?" Dusty's curiosity caused Bindlestick and Sunny to look alarmed, but Harvest just paused for a few seconds.

"He's passed on, honey, about nine years ago. A malady the doctor hadn't seen before, and couldn't cure, that just ate him up from the inside. It was almost like a curse or something."

Trixie did the math. She was still a tiny filly then, and hadn't yet got her cutie mark. "My mother died like that too, right around that time. She just got weaker and thinner, even at the best hospital we could afford, until..." She turned her head away, hoping the boys didn't see her fresh tears.

Dusty made a face like he was trying to pull something from deep in his head. "I could swear I'd heard of something like that before."

Bindlestick shivered. "Don't you go talkin' about it, you'll call down the curse down on yaselves! And it is a curse, there ain't no cure I know of!" He made a figure with his hoof to ward off evil things.

As if you're an authority on medicine, Trixie thought to herself.

"Let's talk of healthier things, then," said Harvest. "There's watering to do and weeds to pull in the vegetable patch, while I gather eggs and sweep the barn."

Trixie excused herself to the outhouse for a bit. When she returned, Harvest was cleaning up the table and Bindlestick was washing the dishes as they were passed to him. Sunny and Dusty were sweeping the floor.

"You left a pancake, dear. Is your appetite all right? I know how hard times can wear you down." Harvest's tone of motherly concern lit a soft prickle in Trixie's heart.

"N-no. I just don't want more right now."

"Just as well, then. I don't want you getting sick from overeating, either." Harvest dumped the pancake into a pail and passed the plate to Bindlestick, while Sunny wiped down the table. "All right, everypony. As soon as we're done in here, there are chores outside waiting on us!" She picked up the pail and stepped outside. Sunny saw to the others finishing their indoor work, then herded the group out to the garden. Trixie saw Harvest working with a large bin of material and a pitchfork.
"What is she doing over there?"

Sunny answered, "Mrs. Full is turning the compost pile. We do that every few days for good aeration. Helps it digest better."

"Digest?"

"We don't have any hogs, Miss Trixie. A compost pile is just as good, in its way. Turns food scraps into stuff that feeds the plants just fine."

"Oh."

The work was parceled out, and Trixie spent the next two hours or so pulling plants in the rows and hoping they were weeds, while grumbling inside. Thankfully, it was mostly grass encroaching on the borders. There was a puzzling sight, though, and during a break she asked Sunny about it.

"Why do you have a spot full of dandelions? They're horrible weeds!"

"Well, there's so many things you can do with 'em! Dandelion salads, tonics, brews, even candy if you like. We just let 'em grow over there, and when they start to turn to fluff, we put a tent over 'em so the seeds don't all fly off and annoy the neighbors. That reminds me, we'll have to do some edging there, the patch is starting to grow past its borders."

Harvest rang a bell, and the crew headed in for lunch. It turned out that they were a bit ahead of schedule, but there are always things to do on a farm. Still, she said that anyone who needed to rest could take the afternoon off. "Just be back by evening if you're going to sleep here. And Trixie, I should introduce you to Happy Oatcakes across the way, it was her family's barn you were supposed to sleep in last night."

"Does... that mean I have to sleep there tonight?"

Harvest smiled and shook her head. "No, you've been a good lass and done all we've asked of you. If you need the couch again tonight, it'll be all right. Oh, by the way." She gave Trixie a few bits. "Here, go pay Jars. He came around while we were working and said you hit your limit yesterday."

"I can't-"

"This isn't generosity, foalie. I promised my husband before he died that anypony who needed a place to sleep would have it as long as there was room. I'm giving you your pay for working the garden."

Trixie took the time to wash up a bit and then practically skipped back to the tavern.

Comments

[Borg]

Trixie tested her voice, whispering, "Mother?" Though she was wrapped in a warm blanket, the inner warmth didn't come. "Mother? Are you there?" The emptiness felt so wrong.

Your mother's ghost doesn't love you anymore.

Bindlestick shivered. "Don't you go talkin' about it, you'll call down the curse down on yaselves! And it is a curse, there ain't no cure I know of!" He made a figure with his hoof to ward off evil things.

I don't like you. The first words I hear from you are annoying.

Trixie took the time to wash up a bit and then practically skipped back to the tavern.

I worry about the general prudence of giving money to a pony who was sent to you because she couldn't afford any more salt and needed a place to sleep and sending her to the tavern. It just doesn't seem to be a good idea, given what you know.
Don't bother asking whether I think it's a good idea given what I know. I'm far from certain what I'm supposed to know, so I can't very well draw conclusions from that set.