Lectern’s New and Used Books: Fall Semester

by Dave Bryant

The Rainbooms put on a mini-concert

Lectern’s New and Used Books was a venue for shopping and quiet conversation, as Lectern himself reminded the seven girls before him. “A concert would be rather, hm, antithetical to that,” he added with cautious politeness as he swept a hand through his thinning white hair. “Though it does seem in character for such a rambunctious crowd, I must say.”

“But it would be awesome!” Rainbow Dash burst out, waving her arms in an excess of enthusiasm. “The whole city’s getting behind the music festival! You wouldn’t want to miss out on that, would you, Mister Lectern?”

“I have plenty of books on music, Miss Dash, and not every business needs to be directly involved in a festival. Besides, how do you propose to make it work?”

Twilight Sparkle leaned forward around her boisterous friend. “The back patio would make a decent stage. It’s not big, but we wouldn’t need a lot of equipment for such a small performance. The audience can sit on picnic blankets in the yard.”

Bushy white eyebrows rose. “Et tu, Miss Sparkle?”

Twilight blushed and looked down at the countertop. “Um . . . well . . .”

“All right, for the sake of argument, let’s look at the idea. What about a permit?” Lectern put his hands, fingers laced, on the retired bar serving as check-out counter.

“We’ll get one,” Sunset Shimmer replied. “If we need to, we’ll bring it here and go over it with you.”

“Access. The backyard has only one gate. Even if the garage was cleared out and the side door opened, that surely isn’t enough to meet requirements.”

Applejack tipped her hat back and looked thoughtful. “Take out part o’ the fence an’ turn it into a big double-leaf gate.”

“And who would pay for it, Miss Applejack?”

“Tell ya what: You pay fer any replacement materials an’ we’ll provide the labor. We, uh, got a lotta carpentry practice up at Camp Everfree, an’ we got real good at reusing stuff. Plus, I got some temporary fencin’ in the barn if we end up needin’ it.”

Lectern looked around at the rest of the girls. “Are you all on board with this, girls?”

Nods and various exclamations of agreement assured him that, indeed, all of them were. He pondered for a few moments, inspiring more than one of the Rainbooms to hold their breath. “One last question: Why here?”

Dash mumbled something inaudible. Applejack sighed and amplified, “’Twasn’t until a week ago Dash even made up her mind about it, and then it was too late. Every place else is booked solid.” She shot a sidelong scowl at the procrastinator. “We told her this was gonna happen.”

“Hey, I had a lot of other things on my mind! We all did.”

“That much, alas, is true,” Rarity conceded ruefully. “It’s been a very . . . busy summer.”

The old man took a deep breath. “All right. If you girls do all the legwork—and other work—we’ll give it a try.”

 
Three months might seem like plenty of time to make ready—but between a new school year and magical shenanigans, not to mention all the other activities of busy lives, the Rainbooms found themselves squeezing in frantic preparations whenever they could, and the time flew by. They did catch some breaks along with the inevitable pitfalls; anticipating broad interest, the city provided stacks of permits and other applications to schools, social centers, and just about anywhere else people congregated, as well as access to on-line versions of the forms. Sunset was able to make good on her promise to handle the paperwork, with occasional reference to Lectern for permissions, signatures, and other niceties.

After much debate, they registered for the amateur tier rather than the more stringent—and more closely scrutinized—professional tier. That didn’t preclude selling tickets, but it did place a sharp limit on pricing and required designation of a charity or other deserving recipient of the proceeds. Rainbow Dash nominated the school’s athletic program, but Fluttershy lobbied surprisingly hard for the animal shelter. Both were worthy, and neither could get a consensus, so that was tabled for later consideration. Instead they opted for the vaguely worded boilerplate statement, since the program book had to go to press well in advance.

Posters went up. Advertisements appeared in the school newspaper and a handful of other outlets within their modest means, including the official program book sponsored by the city. Word of mouth worked its way through every crowd they could reach. Negotiations with a few local businesses, among them the Sweet Shoppe and Lectern’s itself, provided for refinements like drinks, snacks, and blankets printed with the businesses’ names or logos. Life became a mad whirl of schoolwork, practice when they could fend off other bands for time in one of the school’s music rooms, and increasingly urgent arrangements to make sure the big day itself would go as smoothly as they could manage.

 
With little more than a week to go, all seven were gathered in Lectern’s front room, paperwork covering the small round coffee tables serving the wing chairs in which they sat. “Okay, so we’ll start work on the fence tomorrow.” Sci-Twi checked off an item, her voice and manner distant. “That just leaves . . . um, who’s getting the money from our ticket sales. We still haven’t decided that.”

Immediately Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy resumed their debate. Applejack waved her arms for quiet. “Now hold on there. Ya both made yer cases. I wanna know if anyone else’s come up with somethin’ in the mean time.” She looked around at the others. “Girls?”

Sunset leaned forward and, in an unusually hesitant tone, responded, “I think . . . I might have a suggestion.”

Rarity crossed her legs and shot Sunset a piercing look. “Can we assume it has something to do with why you and Twilight have been terribly distracted all day, darling?”

Pinkie Pie interjected, “And why you mysteeeeriously disappeared this morning?”

“Can’t fool you girls.” Sunset nodded. “Yeah, it does. Twilight and I got yanked out of classes to go off-campus. We, um, we were taken over to the hospital to meet a patient.” She bit her lip. The others looked startled and increasingly curious.

Fluttershy said with characteristic concern, “Oh dear. Who was it?”

Sunset rubbed her upper arms and looked down. “Adagio. Adagio Dazzle. Aria and Sonata were there too. They’d been in her room all night, sleeping on the visitor chairs.”

Curiosity turned to outrage. “Why were you visiting them?” Dash’s demand cut through the general mutterings.

Fluttershy glared at her and put in, “I think a more important question is why they were at the hospital.” She turned back. “What happened, Sunset?”

Sunset’s stark description of the dressings around Adagio’s wrists—and the reason for them—shocked and horrified everyone, and she pulled a wry smile. “Yeah. Now you know why we were so upset.”

Twilight put down her clipboard and pen. “Look, girls. They’re . . . they’re all in really bad shape, but it still took all three of us—Sunset, the social worker, and me—to talk them into getting the help they need, even after everything that happened.”

“But that help’s gonna be expensive,” Sunset put in. “Remember what Cook told us about everything to do with the portal getting classified? That includes the Dazzlings. Any psychiatrist who sits down with them needs a security clearance, and there isn’t anyone qualified at social services who has one. So they have to go to someone else.”

“And that someone else ain’t cheap,” Applejack surmised with a rub of fingertips against thumb. “Makes sense. An’ you two wanna help pay fer it.”

Rainbow Dash was moving beyond irritation to anger. “Why should we do that after what they did to the school—and tried to do to us?”

Wearily, Sunset answered, “Because we helped put them in that position, Dash. Adagio asked us the same question: Why? Why help them?”

“I told them everyone deserves a second chance,” Twilight said stoutly. “Sunset told them it’s the right thing to do, and it is.”

Sunset looked around at the others, expression challenging. There was no doubt she was dead serious about her proposal. Twilight looked more nervous, but backed her up.

The rest looked at each other with varying emotions. Dash still radiated scorn. Applejack and Rarity looked troubled. Fluttershy was the picture of worry. Pinkie, looking a little sad, seemed convinced.

It took half an hour to persuade the holdouts to go along with the idea, partly because Sunset suggested an additional wrinkle that surprised even Twilight.

 
“Who thought it was a good idea to hold a music festival so late in the year?” Dash asked rhetorically, blowing out the words with a plume of steamy breath into the cold late-autumn evening air. All seven of them moved around on the patio-cum-stage, setting up for the imminent mini-concert. Her friends responded almost reflexively. “Beats me.” “Good question.” “Not a clue.” “Maybe someone on the city council?” “Someone who likes the cold!” “Um . . .”

Sunny Flare and Lemon Zest stood at the gap in the fence, having volunteered to take tickets. They’d come a long way from the standoffish, grimly competitive air they’d affected at the Friendship Games, and Zest especially seemed “jazzed”, as she put it, to be involved in the festival, even if at one remove. They grinned and joked with the mostly young crowd who’d come to support classmates or simply to try out an unfamiliar group.

Everyone looked up and blinked when Sunny suddenly appeared at the edge of the patio-stage and called softly for Sunset. The latter hopped over cables and around obstacles with alacrity for a whispered conference. Afterward Sunny nodded and trotted off to the sidewalk, vanishing around the front of the garage. A minute later, a small group all but tiptoed along the back fence from the walkway running beside the far side of the garage to the original gate. Sunset carefully took no overt notice, but turned and crouched as if to fiddle with her amp, then murmured, “Girls? They’re here, sitting near the back fence. Don’t look! If you absolutely have to, make it casual.”

When they did glance over their audience of three or four dozen, they noticed the individuals in question. Three of the figures were anonymous in hoodies and jeans. Clearly acting as their chaperone was an imposingly tall middle-aged woman with buzz-cut hair and a piratical eyepatch partially covering the scars spilling across the left side of her face. Her tough, raffish look was reinforced by an old bomber jacket, BDU pants, and black tactical boots, but an abrupt smile at the trio with her, apparently in response to a mumbled comment, lit up her face astonishingly. There was something odd about her right hand, too, but from fifteen feet away in the dim lighting, especially with the temporary stage lights in their eyes, it was hard to tell what.

They had to leave off their examination, though. It was show time.

 
Most of the hour-long set wasn’t new; there simply hadn’t been time for much songwriting, and the last-minute decisions regarding the Dazzlings tossed their original playlist into a cocked hat. Instead, a hasty tally of songs they knew by heart—both their own and covers—had been thrown together, ruthlessly excluding the numbers with which they’d competed in the Battle of the Bands.

“Everyone ready for a big night?” Dash shouted into the microphone. To the answering cheers, she yelled, “Then let’s have one!”

Pinkie led off the count, and the seven girls burst into song.

“This is our big night

We’re getting ready

And we’re doing it up right . . .”

It was a light, cheerful start. They followed up with more of the same—“Perfect Day for Fun” and “Time to Come Together”, along with a couple of bubbly pop tunes they’d picked up, alternating between their own and others’ work. The small group at the back sat stiff and wooden, even trembling slightly. Their companion’s attention was more on them than on the performance and seemed tinged with concern.

“Life Is a Runway” and “Rainbow Rocks”, paired with other songs of fashion and fancy, finished the opening. From there the Rainbooms moved to less frothy material, carrying the crowd along as the message changed. “I can see mosta y’all are here with friends to enjoy the music,” a beaming Applejack observed. “Yer friends are one o’ the most important parts o’ yer life. There was a time we forgot that, and bein’ reminded of it was a real adventure, I can tell you!”

They swung into “Better Than Ever” and on to “A Friend for Life”, again interspersed with covers. “Friendship Through the Ages” became something of a skit, Sunset moving around the stage, grinning like a fool and dancing a few impromptu steps beside each of her friends in turn. More covers sandwiched “Shine Like Rainbows” and “Hope Shines Eternal”.

By this time they needed a real break, hot and sweaty despite the cold and breath steaming like locomotives. With virtually no separation from their audience—the patio being only a foot above the ground and the nearest spectators sitting literally at its edge—they didn’t bother to douse the lights or leave the stage. Instead they simply sat or leaned, mopped their brows and grabbed bottles of soda or water, and chatted with the people who’d come to see them. The group in the back didn’t come forward, but they seemed more relaxed.

When the Rainbooms reassembled, retuning their instruments, Twilight came forward. “Friends are there to help you up after you fall,” she told the listeners quietly. “But it’s just as important to be willing to get back up and keep trying, even when you aren’t sure of yourself or anything else except the friends you can count on. We all learned that, and we want you all to remember it too.”

Pinkie once again started the count, and “The Legend of Everfree” rang out. Twilight raised her arms, waving encouragement to the crowd, and began clapping in rhythm. By the first chorus she had them shouting “hey!” along with the band, and by the end of the song nearly everyone in the yard was singing along. Even the hoodied trio were clapping.

“Legend You Were Meant to Be” and “Right There in Front of Me” continued the alternation with other heartening songs of inspiration. Then it was Sunset’s turn to step up. “When I first came to Canterlot High, I was . . . not a good person. I did some pretty terrible things, and it took getting knocked flat on my back to see how terrible they were. What I’ve learned is that, if you’re willing to do your best to make up for what you’ve done, you can make friends of people who used to be your enemies.” She took a deep breath, tapped her boot and counted, then bounded into “My Past Is Not Today”. If it wasn’t as polished a performance as some of the others, it was heartfelt. Her friends kept pace with the ease of long familiarity, and at the finale she flung both arms in the air.

When she caught her breath again, they segued into an old standby extolling how wonderful the world was. After it too trailed away, Dash waited a beat before saying in an unwontedly serious tone, “I’m sure you’re all wondering where the money from your tickets will go.” She took a breath. “A while back we had a run-in with some people. What they wanted to do was wrong, and we had to stop them. After we did, they took off. We high-fived each other and that was it.” She looked over at Sunset.

“We didn’t know what happened to them after that. We didn’t even think to check.” Sunset shook her head. “But we found out earlier this month their lives ended up in a really bad place, and it was partly our fault. The only good thing about it was, the hole they were in showed them how badly they needed help, and now they’re going to get it. It’ll be expensive, though, so the ticket money’s going to help pay for that help.”

The small group at the back of the crowd showed all the signs of shock, hands raised to half-hidden mouths. The woman with them wore a slight smile of approval. Everyone else applauded, though not without a certain quizzical air. It was to the latter Twilight spoke. “That’s all we can say, because we want to protect their privacy. We know it’s not a lot, but it’s the least we can do, and every little bit helps.”

Sunset struck a chord on her guitar. “It’s been crazy getting ready for the festival, so we didn’t have time to write any new material—except for our last song tonight. Fluttershy and I call it ‘Work in Progress’, and it’s for those folks who’re getting the money, and the help, they need.”

Author's Note:

This one was something of a struggle, but it demanded to be written. The hardest part was building the playlist—I’ve been to only a couple of concerts in my life, so I’ve little experience with how they’re structured.
   Based on the tie-in chapter books, a surprising number of the songs scattered through the three sequel featurettes are intended to be actual Rainbooms (or other in-universe) songs, so I started from those. I winnowed out songs played during the Battle of the Bands, with the idea the Rainbooms are trying to be tactful, and songs that are too topical (e.g., “Cafeteria Song” or “CHS Rally Song”). That left fourteen songs, running just under half an hour total, which I then had to order.
   I split them into three parts: a light and fluffy opening, a middle section about friends and friendship, and an ending with inspirational songs. My reasoning was to draw the audience in with catchy, accessible music and pull them along through more serious topics, which were aimed squarely at the Dazzlings—who, of course, had been provided free tickets by Sunset via Rose Brass.
   As near as I can tell, by the way, the music festival is roughly thirteen months after Through the Mirror and seven months after Rainbow Rocks.

Comments

[blastdragon]

Clearly acting as their chaperone was an imposingly tall middle-aged woman with buzz-cut hair and a piratical eyepatch partially covering the scars spilling across the left side of her face. Her tough, raffish look was reinforced by an old bomber jacket, BDU pants, and black tactical boots, but an abrupt smile at the trio with her, apparently in response to a mumbled comment, lit up her face astonishingly.

Just started reading this series. One of the later entries was on the frontpage and I decided to begin at the beginning. When I read the this part I thought it was about EQG Tempest Shadow but seeing how this story was written in 2017 I doubt that's her. Also this character probably will appear in Amphorae so it can't be Tempest. Still strange that it was the first character I though off with that description.
For something different; I just noticed that if you copy the title of a story and paste it in a comment it automatically makes the pasted title an url to the story. Don't know why I just now noticed that but it's a cool and useful feature.