Why the Gift is Given

by Impossible Numbers

Limited Happiness

Come the next morning, the window was iced up. A pegasus was still there, painting fern patterns up the glass. Gulping with embarrassment, Ruby slid the curtains shut – she forgot to do so last night – and scurried downstairs. She had forgotten to do anything last night.

“How’s my favourite cousin this morning?” called up Berryshine, her voice echoing from the kitchen. She must have heard the footfalls.

Ruby paused and sniffed. Her mouth started to water. Eggs… and beans…? She sniffed again and cocked an ear. There was a definite sizzling coming from the kitchen.

When she entered, she saw Piña at the table, wolfing down her own plate of beans and revealing the sauce-reddened toast underneath. Her cousin tried to speak around the mouthful, but succeeded only in spraying red flecks.

Bent over the cooker, Berryshine hummed a tune and stirred the eggs in the frying pan. She put down the spatula for a moment.

“I thought I’d treat you this morning,” she said, beaming at Ruby. “Today’s going to be a good day, I can feel it! Drinks a-plenty, and you know what that means?”

Ruby did not dare herself to smile, but darn if it wasn’t a close thing. “You got a request?”

“Pinkie Pie placed an order yesterday. I’m catering for a birthday bash.”

Her heart lightened. “Really? You mean it?”

“I mean it! Auntie Berry’s in her element today! Say, I should try that new recipe I’ve been working on! It’ll blow their socks off, if they’re wearing any, which this being Pinkie Pie, they might be, but you know what I mean.” Berryshine cackled and reached over to stir the pan full of beans.

“Um… cool,” said Ruby. She allowed herself a quick little flicker of a smile. That was all.

“You want a full breakfast?”

Piña held out her sauce-smothered plate and grinned within her sauce-smothered face. “I do! I do! Seconds! Seconds!”

“There’s a big girl with a good appetite! Grow up, grow happy! Here you go. So what do you say, Ruby? Want the works?”

Ruby’s stomach rumbled. Her mouth watered and drowned her tongue. Those smells were the finest she’d smelled within this kitchen since forever. Her Auntie Berry was humming again.

Maybe Dinky had been on to something. Maybe gift-giving really is nothing more than a love gesture.

That should’ve been sickening, but right now she hungered for a taste. Licking her lips, she stretched her smile.

“Yes, please,” she said, sitting up to the table.

Eggs slopped out onto two plates. “Who wants the pepper?”

Both Ruby and Piña raised their hooves at the same time and cried out, “Me, please!”

“All righty then. Bottoms up, girls!” And she snatched up both plates and drew in, as efficient as a train, to the stop at the Dining Table Station, steaming plates on her saddle and ready to disembark.

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“Choo, choo!” said Piña, leaping out from the front door. Ruby hastened to follow her; as caboose, she could not fall far behind the train itself.

Berryshine shut up the house and slipped the key into her saddlebag. “Well, school’s off. Where’s the Friendship Train heading today, you two devils?”

“Hearth’s Warming shopping spree!” cried out Piña.

“Yeah, I wanna go shopping,” said Ruby, blending in with the general genial atmosphere. “I’ve got dozens of gifts to get. Hundreds.”

“Oh yeah?” Berryshine chuckled. “You’re not getting everyone stamps, are you?”

“Very funny. No. But I am getting something special.” Now I just have to think of something. Oh well. Details, schmetails.

“How about the marketplace, then? I’ve got to sort out my stall anyway.” Berryshine pouted. “Who’s sitting pretty now, huh?”

“You’re not!” called out Piña wildly. “You’re standing! Choo, choo!”

And she shot off, the Friendship Train apparently getting a magic nitro boost. Waving to Berryshine, Ruby scurried after her, past the first few stalls and then deep into the market’s armada of crowding ponies. A few cows trundled past, but the two of them ducked and rolled and then continued out the other side.

“See you later!” cried out Berryshine.

“SEE YOU!” they both yelled back.

Now they were getting serious. So many moving obstacles surrounded them and cut across them that they stopped being a train and started being a pair of detachable spider robots, scuttling up and around chests and heads and limbs and tails. After all, if the average child couldn’t imagine their way out of a tight spot, what could they do?

Panting, Piña skidded to a halt so fast that Ruby bounced off her flanks and onto the grass. Regardless, Piña didn’t seem put out; quite the contrary, she was as pleased as a puppy waiting for treats.

“So what next, what next?” she yipped.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” said Ruby, getting up. She wiped the worst of the snow off her tail, not that she cared much. Just snow, really.

She paced up and down in deep cogitation. “Auntie Berry deserves something spectacular, I’m sure of it. We have to show her we care so much that it’ll blow her mind.”

“Ooh, I like that! So what, then?” A ladybird landed on her ear, though she didn’t notice.

Ruby giggled. “I don’t know! Imagine the fun we’ll have finding out! Um… Ooh, ooh! She likes all the old adventure stories. Maybe something like that.”

“Another Daring Do book!”

“No, no, she’s got them all.”

“Another adventure book!”

“She’s got loads. Aren’t you listening?”

“So not a book, then?”

“Actually, I think we need something bigger than that. Like a costume… or… or a decoration. A vase? Uh, a picture to hang on the wall? A big poster – nah, too cheap…”

More ideas fizzed and streamed through, her mind abuzz with firecrackers and wow-bangers. So much energy burned through her that she couldn’t keep still and kept bouncing off nearby ponies instead. Wow, is this what it’s like to be Dinky all the time?

“Hey, there’s Carrot Top!” Piña pointed. “Let’s ask her! She’s one of Big Sis’s best friends. Betcha she’ll know what to get.”

Indeed, Golden Harvest aka “Carrot Top” stood with wicker basket behind her withers, examining a display of frying pans and tapping each one, ear cocked. By the time Ruby spotted her, Piña was already barrelling over to meet her, making silly “beep beep boop boop” noises.

Momentary doubt trickled into Ruby’s chest, but the leak was soon plugged. True, theirs was an odd friendship; Berryshine had nothing to do with carrots – they didn’t make good cocktails – and old “Carrot Top” farmed nothing but carrots. Also, Berryshine was known as the life of the party after Pinkie Pie, whereas Golden Harvest treated parties as some kind of dreary necessity. Still, there were weirder. And Piña had a point.

“Hey, Carrot Top!” Ruby scurried over to them, weaving among the shifting legs.

“Huh? Oh, it’s you two.” Golden Harvest coughed; she seemed to be trying to hide her underbelly behind her legs. “Doing your Hearth’s Warming shopping, are you?”

“We’re trying to buy something for Big Sis,” said Piña. “But we just can’t think what to get her.”

Golden Harvest glanced at the stall owner, who shrugged, and then tapped at a nearby frying pan. “Uh, you can’t think of anyone else who might know how to –?”

“We thought you might know,” said Ruby, nodding encouragingly. “You’re her best friend.”

“Well, a friend,” conceded Golden Harvest. Whether through modesty or a desire for her associations not to become well-known, she reddened about the cheeks as though suffering from bad circulation. “I’m not sure, to be honest. Chocolates usually go down a treat.”

“Chocolates?” Piña laughed off this typical simplicity of adults. “No, we mean something special.”

“Yeah,” said Ruby. “After all, she deserves it.”

To her surprise, she saw Golden Harvest screw up her lips at this. “Well…”

“She puts a lot of effort in,” Ruby added. Those screwed-up lips bothered her.

“Oh, yes. Absolutely. She does her best. I know.” Golden Harvest shrank where she stood. Now it looked like she couldn’t hide enough of herself behind her limbs. “Look, I’m not saying she doesn’t. It’s wonderful you’re going out of your way for her, I appreciate that, really I do…”

“What?” said Ruby, narrowing her eyes. This wasn’t what she’d expected. Not from what Dinky was saying last night.

“Well, it’s a lovely gesture, sure, but… but… um…” Golden Harvest sighed. “I really am –”

“But what?” snapped Ruby. Already, the bright sunshine of her day was turning harsh and stinging.

She vaguely knew Golden Harvest. Sometimes, the mare came round for a cup of coffee and a chat. More often, Berryshine would disappear for hours to go see her. She struck Ruby as a sort of genial orange cloud; a fine cloud, in her own way, and a cloud who worked hard – or so Berryshine said – and had all kinds of earthy wisdom and the occasional weird view on carrots – or so Dinky said – and was OK – or so most everyone else said. But still a cloud.

Not the sort, in short, to suddenly harden and start acting like Berryshine had done something wrong.

“But,” said Golden Harvest, straightening up, voice now on firmer ground, “you have to think about a budget too.”

“I don’t think she’d like a pet,” said Piña.

“I meant spend within your means,” said Golden Harvest. She shrugged helplessly and glanced at the stall owner, who unfortunately had moved to talk to another customer nearby. “Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but… well, it’s about rationing, if you think about it. You have to be sensible. Your heart’s in the right place, I appreciate that, but don’t sink too much money into this sort of thing.”

“But she deserves it,” said Ruby coldly. Her sunshine was now thinning. Clouds loomed.

“I’m sure she does. She works hard. She just doesn’t… earn… um… well… you have to consider the fruits as well as the efforts.”

“She does,” said Piña. “She deals with fruits all the time.”

“I meant results.”

Ruby’s inner weather chilled fast. Desperately, she thrust out for a patch of warmth. “Did you know Berryshine’s got a job with Pinkie Pie? I bet we’ll get our ‘fruits’ then. So come on. What should we get her?”

“Has she? Look, I really think something simple would do.” Golden Harvest waved to the stall owner, but failed to lure her out of a haggling match with a stallion. “What’s wrong with chocolates? Chocolates make a fine gift.”

Scowling, Ruby said, “Never mind. We’ll think of something. We just wanted a second opinion, that’s all.”

For she’d just remembered. Golden Harvest. It was Golden Harvest, according to Amethyst, who’d said all that awful stuff about “you scratch my back, I scratch yours”. And according to Dinky, she’d also talked about efforts, not results, which had sounded… better at the time.

But now? They sounded not so different. So, if Berryshine put in the effort, then someone else would put some effort in for her. Right. So was that because it got results, or not?

“You don’t think she tries properly,” she said. “Do you?”

Golden Harvest frowned. “I never said that.”

Worse, unless Ruby wasn’t remembering right: didn’t Golden Harvest tell Amethyst, who told Dinky, about all that cardboard boxes stuff?

A great weight rumbled deep within Ruby’s chest. She felt herself freezing over, becoming harder, colder, more solid. Worse, worse than waking up from a dream, was realizing the dream had been playing her for a sap.

“We’ll find something,” she said. “Come on, Piña.”

“Huh?” said Piña.

Brow crumpling with concern, Golden Harvest leaned down. “Are you all right, Ruby?” she said gently. “What’s wrong? Anything I can do?”

“No, thanks.” Ruby backed off, nose wrinkled. “We’ve got some shopping to do. Thank you.”

“You’re sure –?”

“Thank you.”

Having thrown those parting words away, Ruby chewed her lip and stormed off into the crowd, gritting her teeth every time someone bumped her and then apologized before disappearing.

Within her, the weight rumbled again. She ignored Piña yelling after her. Stupid Carrot Top. Doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “You have to consider the fruits as well as the efforts,” she’d said. Aargh! Why do grown-ups keep changing their minds all the time? Why don’t they keep it simple?

“Choo choo!” called Piña, catching up to her.

“Never mind that,” said Ruby swiftly. “Come on, we’ve got gifts to get.”

Piña cocked her head. “No choo choo?”

“Later.”

“But –”

“Later! Job first, OK?”

Very, very quietly, so that it was almost hidden beneath the rabble of shoppers, Piña said, “Oh… um, OK then. Job first.”

“Good. Now help me find something. Let’s look around, see if anything stands out.”

As they went on, the rumbling inside her rose and fell once more. Regardless, even in its absence she felt the aftershocks ricocheting back and forth within her chest and head, boiling her up, shaking things. Never, ever going away.

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Comments

[PresentPerfect]

Piña's dumb as a box of rocks, isn't she? XD The only thing better than sad fillies is dumb fillies.