Chapter 11
August 19, 2015
I’d been carefully rehearsing our next border crossing. That morning, when the US border patrolman asked if we had anything to declare, I looked him in the eye and said, “Nothing but freedom.”
He smiled and said, “Welcome back to the United States.”
We’d crossed back into Michigan. After being on the road much longer than planned, we decided to head for home. It would be a free place to stay, and we could do some laundry and rest.
But first, we had to go see a friend to get Luna a typewriter.
Speaking of her, she was still pondering my statement as the road signs changed back to miles per hour and advertisements for Tim Hortons grew more infrequent.
“Was that some sort of inside joke?” she asked.
“Huh?” I glanced at her in the mirror.
“Freedom.”
“Oh. Sorry, that was like five minutes ago. Context, Luna. You can’t just bring things up independently without declaring their origin.”
“Why was a declaration of independence so important?”
Maria handled that one before I could go on a tangent. “We’re mere mortals who have a different viewpoint and mental processes. So next time you want to start a topic of conversation, please make it clear what you are talking about.”
“Very well. So, why did you declare freedom at the border?”
“Fervent patriotism,” I admitted. “I made a joke about one of the US’s dearest values on the assumption that anyone who worked to protect the borders would enjoy it. Fortunately, my tactic worked and we didn’t get a special search.”
“You joke about freedom?”
“Well…okay, painful admission time, the US is not as free as we like to believe, but my statement about it being one of our dearest values is still true. The country was founded on the idea that all people were created equally and have identical rights. These days, we’re even getting close to that being true.”
“How long has it taken?” asked Luna.
“Oh…two hundred years or so.”
“You’re all so similar, I’m surprised it took so long.”
“Don’t ponies believe in love and tolerance?” said Maria. “And yet you’re still racist against zebras a thousand years after Equestria was founded.”
“At least we never claimed to promote equal rights and then take centuries to deliver.”
“You don’t have anything like a written constitution or bill of rights laying out what the government is responsible to provide to the citizens?” I asked.
“Why should we?” Luna said. “The citizens of Equestria trust us. Do you not trust your government?”
“That’s a can of worms,” I said.
“A what?”
“A complicated subject. The government is elected by the people, so we should trust them because we had the faith to elect them. But fewer people care about voting and the people with more money to advertise rise to the top of the polls, and it ends up a mess.”
“And why has the system not been changed?”
“Who would change it? The people who were put in power because of it?”
Luna was silent for several seconds. “If you would like, I will have a talk with your president when I next have the opportunity.”
“Gee, thanks!” That put me in a good mood for the rest of the drive.
My buddy Rob owned an emporium of just about everything. When we arrived, we discovered that he had almost thirty typewriters in stock.
“So what kind of typewriter were you looking for?” he asked. We were seated around a table made from an old wooden cable reel, on chairs made from upturned buckets, using silverware that didn’t belong to the same set, or even three different sets. The accommodations were ad-hoc, but the cake in the center was real and for that, I’d stand and eat with my hands.
“What do you have that might be fit for a princess riding in the back of a car?” I asked.
“That’s strangely specific, but I think I have just what you need.” Rob pointed to a pile that featured a rather nice manual typewriter perched jauntily on top.
“And paper?”
He put a ream on the table.
“And perhaps more of this cake?” Luna asked.
“On the way,” Rob promised.
“You can see her?” I asked. “What with the whole can't-see-the-pony-you-don't-expect spell?”
“Well yeah, I always expect ponies on earth. It's kind of the only thing people know about me.”
It was true, I had to agree.
Luna picked up the typewriter and examined it, finding it to be of her liking. There was a fresh ink ribbon and plenty of paper.
Rob gave us some cake for the road and we got back into the car.
“Nice fellow,” Luna remarked. She fed a sheet of paper into the typewriter and began to compose her response to the letter she had received.
Tac-tac tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-
Maria and I glanced at each other.
Tac-tac tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-tac-ding!
I would never again underestimate how annoying it could be to have a typewriter in the back seat. Luna wasn’t kidding when she said it would take a long letter to adequately and believably explain why she and Celestia still hadn’t returned.
As we headed home, back to the Upper Peninsula, however, her typing came to a sudden halt. “I have detected Tirek!”
Luna popped open the compass, which she had taken to carrying with her. “We must go east!”
East Michigan… My face went pale. “Oh no.”
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i.imgur.com/XbSNnZ7.jpg
Oh geez...
For us non-Americans, why is East Michigan so bad?
Not Detroit! Then again, a battle with Tirek would probably help beautify the city.
Tell Luna Jean says she can crash at his place anytime she's back in Montreal. By the way, I know he went with the three of you to Cavalia, but he doesn't seem to remember anything about the show itself. And he's walking around with this big goofy grin on his face. What gives?
Well, it looks like carting around royalty has its advantages.
Well, you better hope you know someone at the BAE plant up there who can hook you up with a Bradley. Otherwise this is going to turn into "Princess Luna Gets Gunned Down by Thugs" and you will have one heck of an international incident on your hands.
On the plus side, odds are Tirek will be dead by the time you get there. 
6337714 Detroit. Famous for crime and abandoned buildings. It's kind of like Chernobyl without the radiation, which makes it much more dangerous because people can live there.
6337852
Oh, Detroit. That's a much more recognisable name.
And that's the real rub. The people who could theoretically do something about the problem are also the ones who most benefit from the status quo.