Moving emotions

by silentrock

Moving the cart

A heavily laden cart inches sluggishly but surely across the bumpy cobblestone streets of Ponyville, the over sized wheels emitting an ear splitting cacophony of squeaks, creaks, and metallic grinding. Every now and then, a passerby would pause to gawk at the wooden contraption. Each pothole the cart hit let loose a nightmarish noise that set most of the villagers cringing.

The thud of the wheel falling into the hole was accompanied by the racket of various objects in the cart colliding into each other. The contents of the wagon ranged from multiple tiny boxes with disorderly piles of family photos inside of them to a substantial grandfather clock embossed with gold leafs on each of the oak sides leading up to the name ‘Mash’ carved at the top.

What stood out the most were definitely pair of ponies inside the cart and the two pulling it. The stallion was lathered in sweat, chocolate hairs clinging to his well-muscled chest. He walked with a proud bearing and swift, determined movements.

The stallion's eyes drifted to the short curvy mare next to him. Her petite tan head constantly darted behind her to check on the two occupants of the cart they were pulling.

The eldest brother had his eyes focused on the guitar he was strumming. His slumped figure strummed each cord very carefully. Each time the strum didn't sound right, the he tweaked the knob with his until he got the sound he wanted.

As the cart hit another pothole, the mare spoke to the stallion in a worried tone. “Carful, Gigabit. I don’t want anything falling on the children.” She glanced towards the elder brother then to the younger who continued to be absorbed in a video game on a small handheld device.

“Relax, Milano this cart may creak and groan but the furniture isn’t going to topple over onto anypony,” Gigabit reassured his wife.

Button Mash sighed as he reset his game for the fifth time.He rubbed his amber eyes, focusing on the game in front of him. One of his units died, and he had to make sure that the unit stuck around. He could have always switched to casual mode where his units would come back after the battle, but he saw that as admitting defeat. The characters’ lives were balanced in his hooves. Of course they were just video game characters, but they would always be with him no matter what. So he tried to ensure that none of them died.

As he started the battle up again, he felt the cart jolt into a pothole, then right back out. Button’s head pounded with the cart’s incessant squeaking and creaking. I’ll never get used to the noise this damn thing makes. We should fix it up since we use it so much. The colt glanced at the cart while he waited for the battle to load. Sure enough, the bent left front wheel let out the loudest protest, it had been crooked since the day his father brought it home from the dealership.

Button’s eyes fell to his father. Sighing, he closed his eyes and he remembered when the stallion brought him the game he was playing . . .

---

It was late on Button’s tenth birthday when he, his brother, and his mother had just finished Button’s favorite dinner; spaghetti and wheatballs. He heard the doorknob turn and saw his father walk in. The stallion’s tie hung loosely around the neck and as soon as he finished finished closing the door, he threw it off. Before his tie hit the ground, he felt something hugging his leg.

Gigabit looked down to see his son clinging to him like a leech. “Hey, champ how are you,” he said, ruffling his son’s mane.

“Great, Dad! Mom made my favorite dinner and look what Gibson gave me for my birthday,” Button smiled as he showed his father a small toy dragon clad in what appeared to be molten armor.

A small surge of pride came over him. It was nice to see his two sons getting along so well. “Well that is a pretty cool gift, but I think you might like what I have for you just a bit more.” Gigabit handed his youngest a small square shaped present. “Go on open it, son.”

The colt tore into the wrapping paper and pulled the video game case out. His smile grew as wider as his eyes filled with wonder and excitement. “Thank you, Dad I love it so much!” He nuzzled his leg before bounding off to play his game.

---

The cart wheel falling into a particularly large pothole, breaking Button out of his day-dream. He saw his game was still in the process of loading. He took another look at his father—or more specifically—at his cutie mark of a blue tie and black briefcase as another memory floated to the surface.

---

Button sat on the couch with his brother. His mother and father were sitting on the couch directly across from them. Button fidgeted with the new game clasped in his hooves.“So . . . Mom, Dad what did you want to talk to me and Gibson about?” Button inquired.

“Well, Button, as you know I work very hard at my job so I can provide the things we need and some of what we want.”

Button mash nodded in agreement.

“Well because I work so hard, I got promoted to manage a team of workers in Fillydelpha.”

“Congrats, Dad but how are you going to get to Fillydelpha and back within one work day?” Button questioned with confusion .

“That’s the thing, Button. I can’t. So, your mother and I have decided we’re moving.”

Button didn’t know what happened. One second he was sitting on the couch the next he was upstairs crying into his bedroom’s shag carpet after slamming the door. Button looked out the window, dreading what he would have to tell his best friend at school tomorrow.

---

Button was again broken out of his trip down memory lane, this time by a teardrop falling down his face. He refused to think about his old friend. Just the thought of him made Button’s heart ache like a dagger had been shoved into it.

Button had a different, sickening feeling when he thought of his father. Because of how hard he worked, he always got promoted. That meant more work for his father and less time he spent with the family. His promotion also meant that Button would have to leave behind everything he had in the town they were living in. Why can’t he just say no to those stupid promotions?

Well at least we can afford a nice house. The cart screeched to a halt as his mom turned to them, pointing to a decent-sized red brick house. “Welcome to the new house, boys.”

Author's Note:

Hope you like it comments are appreciated.

Comments

[PhoenixBlaz3]

I liked.

[silentrock]

6307111 thanks hope to have next chapter out soon but not to soon i'm not skipping lunch again

[AngelDCS]

Nice .Good chaoter