Restart

by Alden MacManx

Chapter 1- One Hospital to Another

My name, when I was born, was Gordon Tristan Bayles. Now, it is a bit different. I’m nowhere near home, stuck in a rather fascinating place. How did I get here? Damned if I know. Do I like it here? Yeah, you can say that.

It was a cloudy blustery day outside as I parked my car in a lot at Devil’s Hopyard State Park. I usually wouldn’t, but I wanted a walk in the woods, to settle my mind some. I had got out of the hospital earlier that day, and I needed time to deal with what I learned.

Glioblastoma.

An ugly word for an ugly disease. Essentially incurable, and now I’m staring a death sentence in the face. Not pleasant, is it? Let me tell you, it’s not.

The week before, I was rushed to the base hospital when it looked like I had suffered a stroke at my desk in the supply office. They ran test after test, scan after scan, trying to find out the cause. After a day, I was fine, but they kept me there. Friends and co-workers dropped by, looking after me and my apartment while I was laid up. Yesterday, my doctors gave me the diagnosis.

After they let me out, with instructions as to when I would have to go to Lawrence and Memorial hospital across the river for my first dose of radiation and chemotherapy, I headed to my favorite ‘be at peace’ spot, out in the woods, walking by a stream.

A lot was going through my mind at the time. Here I am, forty-six years old, four years in the Navy, twenty-four years working for the government in a civilian capacity, second in line of command at the supply center, and now I was told I was not going to live to see next Christmas. Probably not even the next World Series. I had to hope next season, the Red Sox would fall flat on their faces and give the Yankees a chance to get in the big dance again. Actually, I was hoping to be able to SEE the Yankees kick Boston butt. Only reason I would make the trip to Fenway Park and Yankee Stadium, having season tickets to both places, was to see and hope the Yankees would win.

Such were my thoughts as I walked along the stream, feeling the wind pick up some. I pulled my jacket collar a bit closer, reset the hat on my shaved head (damn biopsy surgery) and kept walking. I thought about my uncle Alfred, who had died of a tumor as well a few years before, but he did not have what I had. No, he lasted five years before giving up the ghost. Then again, he was nearing ninety.

I shivered some as the wind at my back chilled even more, and some rain started splatting down. A boom of thunder faintly rolled through the woods. “Now even Mother Nature can’t give me a good day to walk about in,” I muttered as I kept on walking, looking about for a place to shelter if the rain picked up. Being in the hospital for a week made me all the more eager to be out and about in the fresh air. I really hate hospitals. Good people, bad place.

A louder boom of thunder rolled through as it got even colder. “What the hell is going on?” I muttered to myself as I looked about. Above me, the clouds were getting more threatening, dark and gray and building up fast, moving my way. With a curse learned way back when in boot camp, I decided to head back to my car, which was the best shelter I knew of.

The rain picked up as I made my way back, soon coming down in sheets, comforters and pillowcases, soaking me to the skin. “Dammit, I had one shower already this morning, and it was WARM!” I groused as I kept on going, abandoning the idea that I would make it back dry and hoping I would not get back to the car frozen.

The car was in sight when I felt a terribly cold downdraft, saw a bolt of lightning, felt a clap of thunder, and felt a big pain on my head and shoulders as everything went black. Next thing I knew, it was dark, I was soaked, I was cold, I was on the ground and I had a headache that defied description. Not knowing anything better to do, I passed out again.

I woke up slowly, sensation slowly returning. As I came to, I did an inventory of what I was feeling. Headache, there, but barely. Body warm and comfortable. My hands and feet felt off, not bad, just… different. I was not lying on the cold hard ground, it felt like a warm soft bed. I let out a yawn and a stretch, my hand bumping against something. I felt the bump, but what I heard made no sense at all, that being a dull thump. Times like this makes me not want to open my eyes.

“About time you started waking up, young stallion. It’s been four days already. You took a bad whack to your head and horn. Good thing somepony found you in the Everfree Forest and brought you here,” I heard from near my bed.

“Horn? What horn?” I muttered as I carefully opened my eyes. I knew if I did it quickly, the glare would hurt. Lifelong light sensitivity made me wary.

“Why, the horn on your head, of course,” the voice said, now near my bed. My eyes were slow to focus on the source of the voice, but they did. Imagine my surprise when the first face I saw was that of a yellow horse with a white blaze going down the nose, and a white and yellow swirled horn climbing out of its brow. The horse retreated at my scream of startlement. I would have retreated if I was not in bed.

My scream redoubled as I waved my hands in front of my face, only to see the hands were brick-red hooves attached to two dark blue furred legs, followed by some of the more picturesque language I picked up during a port visit to Le Havre, France years ago. The yellow and white horse snapped sharply at me, “Will you calm down on your own, or do I need to give you a tranquilizer?”

I promptly stopped my screaming. I loathe tranquilizers, and how they make me feel. “I’m sorry for the screaming and the harsh language. What in the name of sweet damn all happened to me?” I said in as level a voice as I could manage.

“You were apparently struck by a falling branch while out in the forest during a sudden storm. You were lucky that somepony found you and sent for help, Princess Twilight herself teleporting you here for treatment. The healing spells did their job, but you were unconscious for four days before waking up. I decided to just let you sleep off whatever happened to you,” the horse said, whom I finally noticed was wearing a white coat and had a stethoscope around his neck. I say ‘his’ because his voice sounded male to me.

I looked at him like he was reciting the Lord’s Prayer to me in Serbo-Croatian, backwards. “Excuse me? Princess? Teleport? Healing spells?” I managed to ask.

“Yes. I know you’re not from around here, but the Princess did not give me details. Now that you are awake, I’m to notify her, and she will be here soon to interview you. For now, just relax and come back to coherency. You’re going to want your wits about you during your chat,” the doctor told me, his stethoscope lifting up in a yellow-white aura, going into his ears and up to my chest, listening just like a doctor would. Hope he liked what I heard, my heart going at about the speed of the beat of La Bamba. “Easy now, just relax. The Princess will be here within an hour, so just calm down and be ready to answer questions.” He stowed his stethoscope and left the room, using his aura to open the door and close it again.

I just lay there in bed, left to my thoughts. I looked around the room, for lack of anything better to do. One thing that struck me was the lack of a TV, radio, or telephone. The IV line running into my arm (foreleg?) was plastic, there was a heart monitor with a paper trace near the bed, the pens tracing out lines which, for all I knew, were describing the beat to the Macarena.

With some effort, I managed to flip the sheet off me, using my arms. I was naked underneath, dark blue fur running from my chest all the way down my legs. Some more looking, and it finally dawned on me what ‘hung like a stallion’ truly meant. Mind you, I’ve never been one to sleep with ladies, or anyone for that matter, but now I was thinking of reconsidering my opinion.

I did find a mirror in my line of sight, which let me see enough of my face to give me a shock. My face was covered in the same dark blue fur as the rest of my body, my eyes were a vivid green in color, my hair (mane?) is the same deep brick red as my hooves, striped with what looked to me was platinum blonde in a bold stroke between my horse like ears and again part way down my neck. I could only glimpse that part.

My horn, though, was what grabbed my attention and would not let go. It was a silvery-white spire that jutted from my brow, with a stripe of bright red spiraling its way up, like an old barber pole. “I hope that does not mean I’m a barber now, I have not cut hair since I was at sea,” I muttered as I took in the staggering sight. I mean, before, I was just the average human being, not much to look at, brown hair just starting to go gray at the temples, more than a bit overweight because I was not one for running or jogging. Now, apparently, I was a lean, mean blue and red stallion.

My thoughts then took a sudden lurching turn, my mental wheels barely able to stay on the metaphorical road. The glioblastoma. It would kill me within a year or so. I would not have long to enjoy this new horse like form. I thought about getting up, but the IV in my arm put an end to that idea. So, with nothing better to do, I laid back, waiting for this Princess to come by, my thoughts racing each other like they had entered the Daytona 500 and were intent on setting new lap times.

Somehow, I managed to fall back asleep, because the next thing I knew, I could hear several voices whispering around my bed.

“He’s looking better than when we found him,” I heard a cultured voice say.

“My general-purpose heal spell did its job, all right. It just took much longer than usual to work. Must have been some hidden damage I could not sense,” said another voice, by her tones it was obvious to me she had some education, a good one. I recognized the tendency in her tones to lapse into geek speak, something I have to watch out about when I’m talking about my work.

“Hey! Maybe I can throw a nice big welcoming party for him! He needs to be introduced to Ponyville, and I know he just loves vanilla cupcakes!” another voice said, one whose excitement, I have to say, was infectious- to a point. That voice startled me enough to open my eyes.

The first thing I saw was a blue horse with wings hovering over the foot of my bed, wings slowly flapping. It had a rainbow mane that fluttered slightly in pace with its wings. It was looking straight at me. “Pinkie, you woke him up!” she said, her voice instantly identifying ‘it’ as a ‘she’.

A purple horse moved up next to my bed, with a purple and pink mane and a long horn. “Hello, Mister Bayles. How do you feel this afternoon?” she said, putting a face to the second voice I heard.

“How do you know my name?” I managed to ask, staring now at the purple one.

“We found your identification cards in your billfold. That’s how we know your name and where you’re from. How you got here to Ponyville, that I’m still working on figuring out. I’m Princess Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship. With me are my friends, who will help you as you adjust to being here,” she said, a warm smile on her face.

“Well, that’s good. Can you all teach me how to be a horse? I’m afraid to get out of bed. I might fall and break something,” I managed to say.

“Don’t worry, Tristan! We’ll teach you EVERYTHING you need to know!” exclaimed the third voice, revealing itself to be a pink little horse who had a big puffy hair style that stayed put even as she bounced around in place in what looked to be sheer excitement.

I watched her bounce in place as Twilight said, “Easy, Pinkie Pie. He only just woke up. Yes, we will teach you everything you need to know, as well as putting you up for a while, until you get established. That won’t be hard for you to do, not in Ponyville.”

“Ponyville? How did I get from the Devil’s Hopyard to Ponyville? Just where IS this Ponyville?” I asked, my brain slipping a gear.

“Why, in Equestria, of course! Everypony knows that!” the blue winged one said with a snort.

“Well, I’m not everypony, I’m Gordon Bayles, a stranger here. Will you ladies help me go from ‘stranger’ to ‘friend’?” I asked, starting to like this group. “I would like that very much.”

“Well, tarnation, Sugarcube, you have an attitude like that and we’ll get you friended up and settled in next to no tahm!” another voice said from farther back in the room. Lifting my neck up, I saw an orange horse with a blonde mane and a hat. A cowboy hat. I also glimpsed a little yellow and pink pony with wings in the back of the room, just looking at me.

“Applejack is right, Mister Bayles. Let’s get the doctor back in here to unhook your lines and we’ll get you to my place to start your training. Fluttershy, would you please get Doctor Pacer?” she asked, looking at the little yellow and pink winged horse.

“Okay, Twilight,” she said in a soft voice, opening the door and slipping out.

We all chatted for a while, until the doctor came in, disconnected my heart monitors and IV, before lowering the sides of the bed. I rolled out of bed, landing with all four hooves on the carpeted floor (a detail I had not noticed before) and promptly fell in a heap. “Step one in learning how to be a pony- learn how to stand…” I muttered, causing most of the girls to giggle. I had to smile as well. I did manage to get to my feet, er, hooves and took a few cautious steps.

“It’s good to be back on my feet. I’ve spent the better part of the last two weeks in a hospital bed, and I’m sick of it,” I said as I just let my body settle in to being a pony, not a person. I found if I did NOT think of moving or walking about, it would just come naturally.

“Why were you in the hospital?” asked Rarity, the white one I first heard.

I went grim, my nose falling almost to the floor for a few seconds before looking at Rarity. “I had been given a death sentence, Miss Rarity. A brain tumor destined to kill me within a year and change. I had just been released a few hours before, just walking in the woods before I arrived here.”

The girls all looked shocked, Rarity the most. Doctor Pacer just looked startled. “I didn’t see any traces when I examined you sir, and I did so multiple times,” he said.

“They had just spotted it. It’s small, and near my balance centers. They thought I had a stroke at my desk, when I fell out of my chair,” I explained.

“Maybe my heal spell fixed it. It did last longer than usual. I just thought you were badly injured,” Twilight explained. “In fact, you were badly injured, a heavy branch having landed on your back and neck. It’s a good thing Zecora found you and let me know rapidly.”

“Hey, nopony’s faster than me!” Rainbow Dash said from her hover. “I’m glad I was seeing Zecora for some potions when we both heard the crash, thump and moaning. Even over the rain, we heard it.”

“You flew through a thunderstorm?” I asked Rainbow Dash, as I slowly walked around the room.

“Heck, yeah! Nothing to it!” Rainbow Dash said boldly, doing a little loop in the air.

I tried to do what I thought would be a courtly bow but wound up faceplanting into the carpet. “Thank you for my life, Rainbow Dash…” I muttered into the deep pile, to laughter all around.

A purple glow surrounded me, taking my nose out of the carpet and getting me upright. “Let’s get going before it gets dark, Mister Bayles. I’m sure you want out of the hospital as quick as possible,” Twilight said. “You must be hungry by now.”

“You just might be right, Princess,” I said with a touch of humor, just before my stomach let out a rumble that could have been measured on the Richter scale. I blushed so hard my ears almost caught fire as the others giggled. “Lead on, please.”

The walk out of the hospital and to the castle impressed me a lot. Seeing Ponyville, a small town with an eclectic mix of shops, houses, and ponies made me long a bit for my childhood in southern New York, in a small town where almost everyone knew everyone else, and no national chains ever set up shop in it. The castle now was another level of impressiveness. It was unlike any castle I have ever seen, which I admit was not many, but they were all in a rundown condition. This one glittered in the afternoon sun, looking fresh and lively, just like its inhabitants.

Inside, the group led me to the kitchen, where I met Spike, a little dragon who apparently is the Princess’ aide, chief cook and bottle washer. I sniffed at the aromas and started to drool just a little. I can cook, but not well. This little dragon could teach me a thing or two in the kitchen, for sure!

The Princess and the rest introduced me to Starlight Glimmer, a pony who was described as Twilight’s apprentice in learning about friendship. She joined us for dinner and gave me my first lesson on how to manipulate objects as a pony. Once I managed to fully get a grip on the utensils, I was able to eat this most delicious dinner that Spike had prepared. Some of the ingredients, I must admit were a bit strange to me, but my hunger did not let my mind do anything more than wonder at the meal and the company.

Once dinner was done, I found myself letting out a yawn, a big one. “Gordon, I think you have done enough for today. Starlight, please show him to a guest room and instruct him on how to do everything necessary,” the Princess instructed.

“Will do, Twilight! Gordon, please follow me,” Starlight said to me

I got up from my seat. “Ladies, thank you very much for this afternoon and evening. Tomorrow, maybe I can start learning just what this head spike of mine can do,” I said to the group as I followed Starlight.

“Good night, Tristan!” “Sleep well, lazybones!” “Do have a pleasant night.” “See yuh tomorrow!” “Good night,” trailed after me as I left the dining room. The walk to the guest room was quiet, because I could see Starlight trying to figure out just where my room is.

“Having trouble, Starlight?” I asked politely.

“This castle is so big, even I have trouble navigating my way around,” she replied before coming to a decision. “This way.”

We went ‘this way’ for another hall, two corners and umpteen doors before she found the door she wanted. “This is your room for as long as you stay here,” Starlight said as she opened the door. The suite reminded me of a luxury hotel room I once saw when on vacation in Atlantic City, minus a few amenities. Normally, I like to sleep with a radio playing, because silence really gets under my skin- I feel something is wrong when it gets too quiet for too long. She gave me the nickel tour of the suite before bidding me a good night. I climbed up on the bed and was out cold in seconds, I’m positive.

Author's Note:

Okay, my turn to jump into the 'If I wound up in Equestria' genre. something different to strain my abilities after getting out of the hospital last month.

Comments

[DAMN HAMSTER]

[Emtu]

It's a good start. I like the departures from the typical HiE/human-turned-pony stories.

[Alden MacManx]

9163312
As a bumper sticker I once had said, 'Why be normal?'

[Boof Man]

“Don’t worry, Tristan! We’ll teach you EVERYTHING you need to know!” exclaimed the third voice, revealing itself to be a pink little horse who had a big puffy hair style that stayed put even as she bounced around in place in what looked to be sheer excitement.

I watched her bounce in place as Twilight said, “Easy, Pinkie Pie. He only just woke up. Yes, we will teach you everything you need to know, as well as putting you up for a while, until you get established. That won’t be hard for you to do, not in Ponyville.”

I'm sorry, but, wut

It's more than a little weird they wouldn't question why he'd need to figure out how to walk and act like a pony. Did they know he wasn't born a pony? This just seems like a cheap way to get out of writing conflict, doubly so if you consider how fast he seems to have warmed up to being one.

[Alden MacManx]

9819980
They knew he wasn't originally a pony... they found his wallet. That ain't no horse face in his driver's license picture, right?

You missed this part, I think.

A purple horse moved up next to my bed, with a purple and pink mane and a long horn. “Hello, Mister Bayles. How do you feel this afternoon?” she said, putting a face to the second voice I heard.

“How do you know my name?” I managed to ask, staring now at the purple one.

“We found your identification cards in your billfold. That’s how we know your name and where you’re from. How you got here to Ponyville, that I’m still working on figuring out. I’m Princess Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship. With me are my friends, who will help you as you adjust to being here,” she said, a warm smile on her face.