No Pony Left Behind

by ponichaeism

CHAPTER 3: "Childrens Do Learn"

Glory walked home in a daze, still aglow from meeting Starlight. But she snapped out of it when she found a visitor waiting near her doorstep. It was a tiny lizard-like thing with pointy ears and a hard ridged shell on its back, and it took trembling steps across the hot desert ground. She got down on her foreknees and peered at it. It raised its feeble head and stared up at her. When she reached over to scoop it up, it tried to run, but it stumbled and flopped to the ground. She peeled it off the dusty earth and held it in her hoof to peer at it. She knew the things by sight, but its name escaped her; again, a distant memory of her mother telling her flitted through her mind, but it proved uncatchable.

She suddenly realized she would rather learn the names of the animals around the village in school than endless math tables and equal sign comprehension. And again, the disrespectful nature of such a thought filled her with shame. Starlight Glimmer knew what was best, and that was why she was the leader of the village.

“Hello, little fella,” she said to the critter. “Did you want to come inside?”

Could these critters talk? She didn't know. Certainly she had never heard one speak before, but there was so much outside her door that she had never seen or heard of. Plus, it was so little it must be a baby. Maybe it just couldn't talk yet.

Keeping the weary critter balanced on her hoof, she pushed the door open and tromped inside. She would have liked to ask her mother what the critter was called, but like most of the other adults her mother was busy building a cottage for a new settler in town. She wouldn't be back until long after Glory's bedtime. She went up the stairs to her room, where she set the critter on her bare desk. She poked its head with a gentle hoof. It flicked its long and thin tongue out and licked her fetlock.

“Heehee,” she giggled. “You're a friendly little guy. Do you want to be my friend while Cosmo is laid up in bed?”

The critter flicked its tongue out again.

“Is....is that a yes?” she asked, honestly not knowing. Firmly, she said, “I'm going to take that as a yes.”

It didn't protest.

“Well, I have some homework to do, but you can keep me company so it's not as boring.” She got out her notebook and flipped open to a fresh page, then took a moment to tickle the critter under the chin before she put her pencil between her teeth and got to work writing out her math tables.

She was deep in her sixth page of tables when the baby animal waddled over to her and made a plaintive cry. She goggled her eyes and mimicked its cry right back to it.

“Who's a funny little rascal?” she asked. “You are!”

I would love to work with animals when I grow up, she thought. They're so cute and funny.

It reared back on its hind legs let loose its cry once more, its eyes looking directly at her. Giggling, she barked right back, then rubbed its stomach.

“Sorry I can't play,” she said, “but I've got more homework yet to do. Maybe tomorrow, huh?”

Mewling, the critter dropped back down onto its four legs and slunk away to a corner of the desk, disappointed that its new friend couldn't play with it. She watched it go, her heart wrenching in sadness, but there were tables and tables of mathematics she had to finish first.

Glory woke early the next morning, bright-eyed and well-rested, and threw the bare and badly-patched blanket aside.

“Good morning!” she called across the room.

Her new friend was still huddled on her desk, and it didn't answer her. It just lay there. Who's a big 'ol sleepy-head?! she thought. Grinning, she crossed the room to wake it, but after the third shake it still wouldn't get up. Her smile slowly dissolved.

“Hey, come on,” she said. “Get up.”

Her friend remained limp and lifeless.

“Do you hear me? Get up! Get up, get up, get up!”

A distant voice came from the doorway. “What are you yelling for, Glory?”

She turned to see her mother standing there. Glory moved aside to let her see the desk and the critter on top of it. Her mother casually strolled over, picked up the critter lying on the desk, and examined it.

“I'm sorry, Glory,” she said finally, “but this....this, um.... ah, armadillo. Yes, that's right. This armadillo is dead.”

“What?!” Glory reeled in place like she'd been struck. Tears started to drip down her cheeks.

Her mother stared fixedly at the armadillo, concentrating hard, and then, like she was being roused from sleep, said, “Poor thing looks dehydrated.” She became a little more alive and vivid as she spoke of her old job, though she still seemed like she was talking from a million miles away. “Probably got separated from its mother and wandered out of the desert searching for water.”

“Water? Why?”

Her mother raised her puzzlement-filled eyes from the armadillo and stared into Glory's. “They need to drink water to survive.”

“But....but....” Glory started to sob as she realized what its cries from last night had meant. “I didn't know critters needed to drink water like ponies do!”

“All animals do,” her mother said, a little more alive. “Didn't you learn that in school?”

Her sorrow quickly boiled over into rage. She grabbed her notebook and flung it across the room while she screamed, “I don't learn about nothing but division tables!”

“Hm,” her mother said. “I probably should have told you that, but it's very busy right now in the village. A lot of work to do, if we want to stay here. And all the things I learned from my old talent are.... Sometimes it's so hard to recall....” She trailed off as her eyes unfocused. “I'm sorry, what was I saying? Something about my old talent? It's hard to remember that long ago, Glory.”

Glory sank to the floorboards, drowning in her tears among the scattered pages of her division tables. Miss Shake was right, she thought, in a moment of understanding. I want to learn about animals, not these boring old math tables. It's not fair. My mother can't teach me nothing if she's working all the time, so we should be learning about it in school.

Starlight Glimmer was going to be there, she remembered. She was going to give a speech about equalized testing to the foals before the test started.

I'm going to tell her, Glory thought. I'm going to say that Miss Shake was right.

“Are you alright, Glory?” her mother asked, going down on her knees and putting a comforting foreleg around Glory's neck.

“Yes,” Glory said, wiping the tears away. “I'm just fine.”

Comments

[Alex Warlorn]

And we see the pragmatic side of how Glimmer's system is flawed due to her absolutes.