Going with the Grain

by Bronyxy

4 Stranger in a Strange Land

The train connecting to Whinnieapolis was provided by a provincial service much more like the Friendship Express she was used to. There had been an hour’s mismatch of timetables during which she had gone to the cafeteria and unwrapped the packed lunch that the conductor had provided for her. His generosity would have made even Rarity gasp, and he had clearly been busy putting together a feast fit for the Princesses themselves. Applejack touched her hat in salute to him, even though he wasn’t there to see it, she still hoped that the sentiment of gratitude would somehow reach him.

Applejack found it odd that Rarity had sprung into her mind again and started to think that when she returned to Ponyville, she should go round and try to make amends for their past disagreements; her friend did have a lot of good points after all, and there was something about her that she couldn’t quite get out of her mind …

Before she knew it, the station’s public address system crackled to life informing passengers that the Whinnieapolis train was now boarding and advising there was only ten minutes prior to departure. This was a much smaller station than Vanhoover Central that she had found so intimidating the day before and took the mere six platforms in her stride, finding her way with confidence to where her train was waiting patiently.

The train was like those she was more used to at home, which was cramped and under provisioned compared with what she had become accustomed to since 11 am yesterday morning. She took a spare seat, but felt all eyes in the carriage were upon her, and didn’t feel she had the same degree of privacy to be able to undo her saddle bags and look once more through the letter sent by Golden Graham, so sat and watched, ready to make polite conversation should anypony want to join in.

She found herself listening to the voices around her, not for reasons of eavesdropping, but just because they were unavoidable, and noticed that she was having to work harder to understand what they were saying. There was the unmistakeable emergence of a distinct local accent that pervaded the ponies in her carriage; a common theme that seemed to separate her from her fellow travellers.

“Perhaps” she thought to herself, “It’s best I don’t say much in case they all think my accent’s the one out of place.”

Then her pupils shrank as she suddenly questioned whether Golden Graham would be able to understand her. After having come all this way, the thought of not being able to talk with somepony who may even be her kin sent a shiver through her and she started to feel very alone.

The train was a local service and stopped a few times at unfamiliar sounding places before arriving precisely as scheduled at exactly twenty-eight minutes past two in a station identified as being Whinnieapolis. Her elation tempered the rising tension she felt in her back and in her legs due to the unaccustomed inactivity, and looked forward to getting out and having a walk or better still a gallop around to feel more like her old self once more. With a sigh, she got up and slung her saddlebags on before climbing down onto the platform and tasting the air of another new city.

Applejack was a country girl who was quite at home on the farm and going into Ponyville. She had always felt intimidated by big cities such as Canterlot and Manehattan, and since having begun this journey yesterday had already found herself in Vanhoover, Branding and now Whinnieapolis. The journey had been long, but at least all she had needed to do was change trains twice and she had gotten to the right place; now she had arrived in the correct city, the more daunting challenge was to find the pony she had come to meet. She walked cautiously down the wide stone steps that led to the station and crossed the road into a large municipal park, where she stopped at an unoccupied bench and opened her saddle bag to find the address and refresh her memory as to how she had been recommended to get there.

“Uh huh” she said, as it started to come back to her, and then carefully packed the letter away again.

“Excuse me Officer” she said to the uniformed stallion walking past her on a winding path that meandered scenically into the park, “But, can ya direct me to the bus depot?”

“Well, blow me down, Missy” he laughed in a deep rumbling voice, “Nopony ever called me a Officer before; I’m just a humble park attendant!”

“Well, ya do keep this place mighty nice lookin’” she commented sharing a broad smile with him.

“Why, thank you Missy” he beamed happily, “Don’t hear a accent like yours ever’ day neither.”

Applejack looked a little crestfallen until he added quickly, “An’ it’s right nice too.”

Instantly she perked up and he beckoned her to stand next to him. He placed a large friendly forehoof on her shoulder and steered her sight gently towards where she wanted to go, pointing out the different flowers she would see if she chose to stay on the path, taking especial pride in describing colourful displays of bright red gladioli that he had evidently planted himself.

Once he had finished giving her directions, and also given a description of the floral highlights in the garden this season, he stepped back and bowed politely, wishing her a pleasant stay. She tipped her hat and thanked him kindly too before setting off along the path. As she rounded the next bend, there were the flower beds containing the gladioli, which were just as fabulous as he had promised they would be. She turned round to see if he was still in sight and caught him waving back at her before he disappeared to attend to whatever duties were next on his list.

“Well, I’ll be …” she said, shaking her head softly, impressed by the courtesy of this stranger.

She drank in the remainder of her walk through the park, admiring the floral artistry and clever use of flowers to ensure that there was always going to be something in bloom at any time of year. Too soon, the path ended, and Applejack surveyed the wide multi-lane road that lay ahead, daring her to cross. She retained a fear of getting halfway across before suddenly the traffic would start again, leaving her isolated with vehicles forced to divert around her like being on an ever-shrinking island with hungry sharks circling around.

Rarity’s words about not moseying stuck with Applejack as she approached the busy road with trepidation and waited. She knew her tendency was to amble and recognised that in order not to be caught in the traffic she would have to be quick, and found herself pawing at the sidewalk with her forehoof, looking for all the world like a buffalo ready to stampede.

The constant stream of traffic suddenly stopped like a fast-flowing river had been dammed upstream and at that very instant, the pedestrian signal changed to show a green light in the shape of a trotting pony.

Applejack put her head down and charged.

Her fellow pedestrians looked askance at the sight of the bolting farm pony. Even some of the passengers in the fleet of taxis that had suddenly come to a halt stuck their heads out to witness the sight.

“She’s keen” said one.

“Ten more bits if you can get me to my meeting as fast as her!” called another to his driver.

Applejack was unaware of the spectacle she was causing and kept her head down until she was clear of the road, then braced her front legs while her hooves skimmed along the sidewalk, making a loud screeching noise as her horseshoes ground across the stone slabs.

She came to a halt and raised her head to look around, her nervous smile melting into one of relief as she looked back across the lanes and lanes of traffic that were held waiting for the stop signal to change. Marvelling at her personal achievement, she untensed and tipped her hat so it rested further back on her head, giving her a clearer view from under its brim.

To her surprise, a few ponies began to applaud, then more joined in until she was receiving the adulation of those who had seen her epic sprint, and many others who wanted to join in and not feel left out.

“Aw, shucks ...” she acknowledged, feeling a warm glow rising in her cheeks.

In an instant, the lights changed, and the applause cut like somepony had taken a pair of scissors to it, allowing the hustle and bustle of city life to resume once more.