Colgate and Berry Punch, Adventures in Ponyville

by Democritus of Abdera

Prologue (Endings)

Endings

Current Cast:

Minuette "Colgate" Romana

Moondancer

It was the stillness, she thought, that hurt the most.

The shop had never been this silent, not in her entire life. The early morning light was filtering through the front window, as the dawn crested the buildings across the street. Minuette had to squint as she made her way around the counter and into the center of the shop, taking care not to trip over any of the boxes or rolled carpets. All around her, the oppressive silence closed in like a cloying fog.

The noises of the city outside had yet to begin, the staccato clop of taxi carriages, the voices of strolling passerby that would cast shadows on the surfaces within as they passed over the storefront. But for now, silence reigned in a place it had not held sway in nearly eighty years. That was how long ago her grandfather, Varnish Whitewood, having just arrived in this city, had wound up the massive grandfather clock that rested against the wall now, covered in protective cellophane and bubblewrap, for the first time. That clock had been the first of many, as Whitewood Carpentry and Clockwork had become one of the premier businesses on 47th and Maple Boulevard here in Canterlot.

Years later her father would inherit the family business, and at last she from him just under five years ago. Whitewood Co. had weathered the lumber crisis of 1966 that led to the rapid colonization of the Mild West, the credit crunch of '88, and had been delivered into Minuette's hooves a strong and profitable company with a broad clientele.

And in the space of five short years, I've managed to drive it into the ground. Minuette banged a hoof against her head, wanting to scream, if only to beat back the silence for a few moments.

It's not like it had happened without warning. After the credit crunch, a lot of mom and pop businesses had gone under, leaving only the biggest conglomerates still standing and profitable. Giants like Sunflower Sandwiches, Bridle Bath and Beyond, Cropco (Whipping prices till they behave!) and others had crushed all opposition as a more frugal consumer population demanded convenience and variety at low cost. Nopony wanted to wait weeks from someone like Minuette to hand craft them a clock or table, and pay hundreds of bits. They wanted to spend an hour looking at the selection, then buy the one on sale for 60 bits and some cents and have it shipped home that night.

Oh sure, some of the more posh ponies out there would pay top dollar for handmade products, but it was a niche market, and shrinking as even high society jumped on the mass consumerism bandwagon. This was a conversation Minuette had with herself many times, when she wanted to stave off her guilt, and it was all true.

Still feel like I let Da and Grandpa down though.

Minuette sat on her haunches and curled up in a ball, laying her head on a rolled up rug, some of the boxes around her were labeled "keep" but many, along with most of the furniture was labeled "auction." It made her sick to think how much of this was her father's personal work, she had tossed or put up for sale most of her own things to make room, except for a few essentials. She had fewer keepsakes of her grandfather, aside from the massive clock and a beautifully carved mahogany dinner table that she would be damned if she let anypony else ever lay a hoof on.

She had eaten every meal of her childhood on that thing, spilled juice and milk on it, even thrown up on it once or twice. It was gnarled and a little stained, and one of the legs had actually broken off and had to be glued back on (it was still a little wobbly) when she had attempted to change a bulb on the ceiling by standing on it. It was hers and she would take it and the grandfather clock with her when she left, no matter what.

The silence was stifling, ever since she could remember, this place had been filled with the soft hiss of sand trickling down the narrow throats of at least a dozen hourglasses, the low throbbing clank of the grandfather clock, the higher pitched tinkling chime of the wall clocks and watches, and the short musical notes as each hour arrived and went. The totality of quiet was oppressive. Still as death itself.

Minuette pulled out a small table clock from one of the "keep" boxes, her father's desk clock from his office upstairs, and wound it up. Its gentle ticking kept the melancholy a little more to the periphery of her thoughts, and she resumed packing what remained of the downstairs merchandise, knowing the moving company would be here in less than four hours. Minuette hoped that she had made the right choice.

In the uncharacteristic quiet it was easy to hear the door chime. Minuette looked up from where she had been rolling up another carpet to add to the stack, the deep blue of the levitation field casting shadows across the room. The light of her horn went out, and the trotted over to see who could be up this early, and ignoring her "closed" sign.

Illuminated by the backdrop of the sun, peering into the dark depths and in all likelihood seeing not much at all in the shadows of the interior was Moondancer, a cream colored earth pony with deep burgundy curls and a crimson crescent moon for a cutie mark. Even this early in the day, she had found time to style her mane, and pick out a nice shopping saddle with swirling patterns that sparkled in the morning light. She was pressing her muzzle against the glass and had her right forehoof hooding her eyes to better make out the interior. As Minuette came out of the shadows, Moondancer smiled and waved, pointing to the lock and raising an eyebrow. Minuette sighed and reached out; enveloping the lock with her telekinesis, and swung open the door.

Moondancer reached down and grabbed a basket Minuette had not noticed, carrying it inside in her teeth and setting it down on the table. Minuette closed and locked the door again, giving as pleasant a nod as she could manage, not really feeling up to visitors.

Moondancer kept the eyebrow raised. "Well Colgate, you look positively dreadful. I'm glad I decided to come by and check on you. You've become quite the recluse these last few weeks. Melodia and I have been worried sick about you ever since we got that letter saying you were closing up shop."

Minuette looked away, trying to control her features and keep impassive. She was always so damn terrible at keeping emotions off her face, she would not break down and start blubbering now, not after weeks of dealing with this. She didn't deserve to cry, it was her fault she was in this mess. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of falling to pieces till she had made this right, till she was safe and on her feet again.

Moondancer began pulling items from the basket, some kind of confectionery and a thermos, that when opened, drifted forth the sweet aroma of hot chocolate.

"Sit down." She said. It was not a request.

Minuette plopped down on the opposite side of the table. "Listen, I appreciate you coming over-"

"Shut up." Moondancer pushed the hot chocolate and cake toward Minuette, not relenting until she had taken a few sips and bites, grumbling inarticulately into her crumbs. Minuette had to admit, the cake was delicious, even dreary surroundings and black thoughts seemed to have little power over taste and smell. The warmth of the hot chocolate spread from her throat and chest out to her limbs, melting the ice of her resolve which she had so desperately strived to keep from dripping away. She would not cry. She would not.

"It is not your fault."

Minuette threw cup across the room, careening off the wall and spraying hot liquid onto a bubble wrap roll, the shatterproof plastic fell to the floor with a clang. Moondancer didn't even flinch.

"Yes it is! It's my fault! Just because Da or Grandpa aren't here to tell me off doesn't mean I get a free ride on punishment! I was responsible, the shop is mine, they gave it to me…trusted me to take care of it…and…and I failed."

Minuette buried her face in her hooves, squishing what was left of the cake. "I wasn't smart enough, I didn't see the way the wind was blowing, I could have reinvested, started carrying products from other companies, I could…I could've…" She was crying now, wracking sobs into the table, sharp and erratic, Moondancer sat up with a sigh that bespoke both empathy and profound exasperation, came around and patted a foreleg on Minuette's back, reaching down to grab the cup and refill it, placing it before her again.

"Dun, *sniff*Dun wanna 'nother." Minuette looked up and smiled weakly through the tears at her friend. "Good thinking with the plastic though."

Moondancer smiled, and gave Minuette a squeeze. "I plan ahead. And you need another. Several anothers."

Minuette nodded and took a sip, a few of the tears falling in, making ripples on its surface. "I'm gonna miss it here, miss you guys more'n anything. I'm…I'm so sorry. I screwed up." She looked at Moondancer, but she found no accusation, no condemnation in her face. Only concern, and not a little amount of barely concealed pain as well. Her green eyes had become bright and liquid, she was very well practiced at holding back tears though, they tended to ruin her makeup. It gave some ponies the impression that Moondancer was a bit shallow, as if a pony who behaved as ladylike as she was expected to break down at every little inconvenience. That wasn't Moondancer.

"Colgate, there was very little you could have done. You're a smart pony, the economy turned against you and you made the hard choice that needed to be made. You could have waivered, tried to hold on, keep afloat while you bled value till you had nothing left for the sake of some…forgive me but…misplaced notion of duty. Nopony would want you to go down with the ship just to prove how dedicated you are to the family business, in fact, by doing that you'd be proving the opposite."

Minuette sucked down the rest of the fresh cup, wiping her eyes. "How do you figure that?"

"You're a shrewd businessmare Minuette Romana, even if you do beat yourself up no end when things don't go right. Selling the store will net you a tremendous hunk of cash. More than enough to set up shop in Ponyville, the property values down there are one fifth of Canterlot's. And the giant outlet stores will overlook that place for years yet since its population is too low. You don't give yourself enough credit dear, and Melodia and I don't begrudge your choice, in fact, we both think it's the right one. Canterlot isn't the place for artists like you anymore. Maybe someday this city will connect with its heritage again, but for now, you have to survive, no matter what. It's a remarkably selfless thing you're doing here, abandoning your life, easy access to your friends, plus countless other things to keep your family's legacy alive. I think your father and grandfather would be proud. I certainly am."

Minuette grabbed Moondancer in a rib splitting hug, wheezing tears into her fur. "I promise I'll write, and visit, I swear I won't let this move ruin our friendship." She looked up at Moondancer, who was brushing away a tear herself.

"We know. But we can't be there for you all the time. So Melodia and I have a…request to make."

Minuette sat back, ears perked. "Anything!"

"When you get down there, we want you to find some friends, first thing. You shouldn't be alone at a time like this, when you allow yourself to be alone, this happens." Moondancer gestured around them, seeming to refer to the dimness, the stillness, and Minuette's accompanying depression. "You're not somepony who can afford to be alone. You've always been that way, without anypony to talk to or visit with, the light seems to go out in your eyes, and-" she said, gesturing to the smooshed cake "-you forget to do essential things like eating and drinking."

Minuette nodded. "It's a promise then, first thing, find some friends."

Author's note: I know there isn't much in the way of humor or romance in the first chapter, so the tags are a bit of a misnomer right now, but this will not be a short flash in the pan type story, so we're going to have some pacing. Feel free to make your displeasure known in the comments however, as well as any errors of grammar or style you may notice, they irk me as much as you, and I'd be happy to spruce this up so it all hurts our eyes a bit less. Thanks in advance!

Fair warning, I like my female protagonists the way I like my coffee, Strong! But with plenty of cream and sugar.

Comments

[Kail]

I hold the mighty lance of the first comment!
This is gonna be interesting.

[AzureSkies]

I like my coffe hot and strong. Like i like my protagonists, hot and strong......with a spoon in them

[GBGamer]

Eugh, cream and sugar? I like my coffee like I like my MTG cards: Black, and strong enough to kill a mortal. Also, you used You're instead of Your. (I think you're father and grandfather would be proud.)

[Doctor Derpin]

I don't drink coffee, but this story is cool anyway!

[JustAnotherTimeLord]

The fifth comment is the most powerful, and I do say this story will be great! RAINBOW DASH INVASION!!

[JustAnotherTimeLord]

e.deviantart.com/emoticons/moods/love/affection/obsessed.gif This is me attacking your story!

[ringfire]

Bravo
sir bravo!!! I am very pleased on where this is going

[Bryan Luna]

I have just one one thing to say at the moment. Moondancer is a unicorn, she was at Celestia's school for gifted unicorns. Also, In regards to that last line of author's notes I've got just two words for you, Megan Williams.