Learning to Soar

by Pinky Music

Chapter 1

Author's Note:

Let’s start this off by saying that this wouldn’t be possible without the stories I’ve read here on FimFiction.net, many of which served as inspiration for this story. I would also like to thank CoffeeMinion, MyLittleGeneration, and especially a collaboration with MisterNick for their generous assistance providing their input. Also, a thanks to Rainb0wDashie for the artwork. Yes, it’s another story about a brony getting transported to the world of Equestria, but I hope there’s enough differences to make it entertaining. Note that this story takes place before the events of season 6.

I am also dedicating this to my mother, who is in a better place now – I love you, Mom.

With that said, let’s start…”My Little Pony, My Little Pony…”

Jason Reilly was over six feet tall, was at least that much in circumference and typically wore what I have been told was a yellow dress shirt. When he leaned into someone’s cubicle he took on the appearance of Pac-man stuck in the corner. Today he was leaning into mine.

“Dahlberg,” he began, his coffee breath hinting at the addition of a new Russian component, “Why is my desk clean?”

“It’s Bob and I put those 186 reports in your mailbox.”

“Dahlberg,” he repeated leaning closer, “My desk has nothing on it. Again, I’m asking why is that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s because those 186 reports aren’t on my desk Dahlberg. Neither are the TPS reports that I’m supposed to have weekly. Why is that?“

The only way anyone can make Jason go away is to nod a lot and agree with whatever it is he’s saying. If I’d put reports on his desk he’d say they needed to be in his box. If they were in his box they should be on his desk. If they are in both he says that it’s a waste of paper and we need to think green and if they are sent electronically he says that it’s one blown server away from disaster and need hard copies. There is no winning with him. That’s office life.

Before he left my cubicle, he asked me about my hours. “You’ve been leaving early Dahlberg and with your review coming up soon it’s probably not such a good idea to make it a habit.”

“My mother’s been sick. HR knows. It probably won’t be for much longer.”

“You get three days of bereavement leave before we start taking vacation days,” said Jason not bothering to look at me as he adjusts the small calendar that hangs from it, “You have to think of your work family first. After all, they depend on you for whatever it is you do,” He clicked his tongue and walked away.

Thirty minutes and several reports later I was on the blue line train headed for St. Francis’. The train rattled and clattered down the track and was covered with the inspirational art of the talents that wandered the city streets instead of sitting in classrooms. The smell of spray paint hung in the air combatting the usual odor of urine that tended to dominate the city’s mass transit hubs.

I kept my head low and my mouth shut. It was the only way to travel. All any normal person really wanted to do around here was just get by and not have to deal with anyone else. Looking up meant that you might have to interact with someone and on the train if you looked at the wrong person you were probably about to have a very bad day. Not that it had been a great one up until that point. It just happened to be the latest in a long string of quiet sullen days.

The hospital wasn’t a long walk from the subway station. I kept my eyes sharp looking around the corners and occasionally cast a sidelong glance behind me for safety sake and walked toward the large square building with the gunshot victim out front. Once inside it was a bee line to the elevator and then a brisk walk to the cancer ward where, as was expected mom would be waiting for me.

“Hey scrote,” called out a familiar voice from the men’s room.

I stopped and turned to see the tall athletic form of my brother slowly walking toward me. “Rick,” I asked, “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Phoenix.”

He sized me up quickly, the same way he used to do when we were kids. “Well,” he began as he scratched his dark goatee, “I was here to close out a deal on some houses on the south side and figured I’d stop by and see mom. You know, be a good son and all.”

“Well she’ll be glad to see you,” I said flatly. Rick hadn’t seen mom or me since the divorce. Somehow he’d gotten it into his head that it was mom’s fault that that stewardess had called the house looking for dad. That it was also her fault for getting sick too.

“She’s asking for you,” he said coolly, “I don’t know why after I flew out here but, you’re who she wants to see first so….”

I nodded and turned away. The hall was long and empty and an eerie quiet filled the air. It always had in the cancer ward. It was as if even the air held its breath as the fates decided who would recover and who would die.

Since I was fourteen, mom had been in and out of the hospital. Birthdays and holidays were put on hold. Each trip in took a little something from her. When she first entered the hospital, her hair had been long and dark and her eyes, though worried, had a spark to them that shined with the light of life and possibility. Yet, now when I looked at her there was nothing but dull finality.

Each time I stood in the doorway of her room during those final days she’d look over at me and smile so gently that it broke my heart a little each time. This time she held out her hand and I took it, my thumb gently caressing her soft aged skin. We talked about nothing that was particularly important, just the day to day things, what shows I was watching which included one with talking cartoon horses, how work was going and then we’d reminisce about the past.

“Do you remember when we saw the Blue Angels at Lake Michigan,” she said quietly.

“Yeah it was like two months after we saw Top Gun with your dad and Rick.”

“You loved that movie,” she said as she patted my hand, “Said that you wanted to be a pilot like Ice Man. How come….”

“Oh mom,” I said, “You know as well as I do that if you can’t see colors you can’t be a pilot. Flying just wasn’t in the cards.” As much as I tried, a tinge of regret seeped out of my words.

She fell silent for a bit and sighed as she watched the TV screen, “Well, you know I just want to see you happy.”

I nodded in acknowledgement, “I know. I am happy.”

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t waste your life telling yourself and me that lie Bob. It’s too damn short.”

“Sorry.”

She closed her eyes and sighed quietly. Her light grip grew lighter and for a moment I thought she was gone. My heart pounded wildly as my grip clenched tighter about her hand as I leaned in to her. Her eyes quickly opened and read my fearful gaze quickly. She sighed again and said, “Darling, I need you to promise me something.”

“Of course mom, anything.”

“Bob,” she said in a measured tone, “I don’t want you to come here anymore.”

“W-what!? Why?”

“This is a place for dying, not living. I don’t want you to remember me like this. I want you to go out and have a life you are happy with.”

“But mom….”

“Please if you love me at all you’ll do this for me. I want you to remember me like I was at the lake. Not like this.”

“Okay,” I said quietly.

“Now go get your brother,” she replied, “He flew out here we might as well talk.”

The train ride home was more silent that evening. Not even the rails clacked. By the time I’d made my way up to my small apartment on the third floor I hadn’t shed a tear but, I needed something to pick me up.
That night I had every intention of watching my silly little talking horse cartoon and forgetting the day that was. Yet, when I opened the door the phone rang. My heart sunk into my stomach and somehow I knew that I was going to have to ask HR for those three days off.

Comments

[Vivid Syntax]

Holy cow. I love the pacing of this so far, and you opened extraordinarily well. I'm very sorry to hear about your mother, but I think this is a lovely tribute.

[PresentPerfect]

When he leaned into someone’s cubicle he took on the appearance of Pac-man stuck in the corner.

Whatever else I may have to say about this story, I want you to know that this description is perfectly excellent. :D

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