Home is where the heart aches
“I’m home,” I said again, slightly louder this time.
“Cinnamon?” I flinched at the sound of the voice from my mom’s craft room. “Sweetie, is that you?”
So much for hoping she’d be out.
“Yeah,” I called back, shucking off my saddle bag. It thunked loudly when it hit the floor, thanks to the heavy metal lunchbox. “I brought...” I considered for a moment, then shrugged. “I brought a friend home, is that all right?”
There was a heavy silence from the other room, followed by a rustle and a grunt as my mom got up from her chair, and I figured she’d been knitting. She always knitted when she was in that chair. Her hoofsteps came closer, and then she came into view.
The years hadn’t been as kind to my mom as I might have hoped. The lines on her face were settling deeper every year, and her mane was no longer the pure brown I remembered from my youth. Grey had sneaked in when I wasn't looking. Her watery blue eyes looked out warily from her cream-colored face, searching for my friend and becoming confused at not seeing her there.
“A friend?” she asked carefully as she looked around. “A... a colt?”
“Filly,” I said.
As some of the fear faded from her face, I realized that she’d been worried that I might have brought home someone from my previous life, maybe even someone who could help me. My anger surged a little, but I managed to keep it capped.
“A filly...” she said. Then she blinked and looked around, and I could see the dismay in her eyes. “I wished you’d given me some warning! I could have cleaned up some of this mess!”
I glanced around. Boxes were piled all around, with papers sandwiched in between and small knick-knacks piled on top. Everything from cardboard tubes to small scraps of wrapping paper were scattered everywhere. Things most ponies would have tossed. I could have given her a week’s notice and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. I didn’t say that, though.
“It wasn’t planned,” I said. “She needed to use the bathroom.”
“Oh,” my mom said, just before the toilet flushed. We stood together in tense anticipation as we heard the water in the sink run, Plum happily humming a tune to herself as she washed and dried her hooves. The door opened, and we heard the filly come out.
“Hello?” she called out uncertainly in the distance.
“Still over by the front door,” I called back.
“Okay!”
As her hoofsteps came closer, I spared a quick glance at my mom. Her face was a frozen rictus, the grin she’d plastered on looking near-maniacal.
“Relax!” I hissed at her. She jumped, looked down at me, and then looked back up just as Plum rounded the corner, managing a much more natural looking smile just as the filly came into view.
“Hi!” the filly chirped. “My name is Plum Pudding, it’s nice to meet you!”
“Hello, dear,” my mom replied. “So nice to meet a friend of Cinnamon’s. She’s had a hard time making friends in school!”
“Well, he—” I caught her eye and shook my head, then nodded towards my mom. The filly took the hint. “I mean, she and I talked a little bit today. She seems nice enough, once you get past her grumpiness.”
My mom surprised me with her laugh. She almost sounded like herself again.
“She can be a little grumpy, can't she?” I batted away my mom’s hooves as she tried to pat me on the head. Plum, the traitor, giggled at my humiliation.
“Yeah, but she’s brave," Plum said. "She stood up to a bully for me.”
I flinched as my mother’s eyes widened, and the catch of her breath told me that this was exactly the wrong thing to say. She spun and grabbed my muzzle, turning my face towards her.
“My baby got into a fight?!” Her voice was loud, near-panicked as she examined my face for bruises. Plum waved a hoof frantically, getting my mom’s attention.
“No, no, no!” Plum was practically jumping up and down in her eagerness to explain. “She didn’t fight anypony! She just told the bully to leave me alone, and then told the teacher.” Mom was looking at her doubtfully, still grasping my muzzle between her hooves, in spite of my best efforts to free myself. “I promise,” Plum added, sitting on the floor and drawing an X over her heart with a hoof. “No fighting.”
“You have a bruised muzzle,” Mom said to her. Plum nodded.
“The bully hit me, but it was by accident. Cinnamon stopped it before it got bad. She just talked her into leaving me alone.”
“And then she talked to a teacher? Well. That’s good, I suppose.” My muzzle was finally freed, but only so my mother could hug me tight to her chest. “But you listen here, young lady! I don’t want you getting into fights! Bad... Bad things happen... when... No fighting!”
Ah, jeeze. She was crying.
“I don't like fighting,” I told her quickly, trying to squirm out of her grasp. I managed to get free, finally. “Believe it or not, I don’t like pain," I added, as I took a couple steps back from my mother. "I already went to the teacher once. If that bully messes with me again, I won’t fight, I’ll just tell on her again. It’s no big deal.”
Mom sniffled but finally let me go. “Make sure that you do.”
I hate awkward moments, but my life had been full of them recently. With Plum there watching, I’d rate this one at least a seven out of ten for awkwardness. That moment ended and a new one started when my mom saw something metallic sticking out of my dropped saddle bag.
“What’s that?” she asked, then pulled it out with her hooves. “A lunchbox? Cinnamon?”
I sighed. There was no getting away from it, now.
“I traded my old one for Plum’s,” I said wearily. Her eyes narrowed. Plum, like many kids, instinctively recognized incoming Mom Trouble and took a couple of quick steps back.
Smart kid.
“Cinnamon Sugar Swirl, what is the meaning of this?” Mom said, her voice crisp and angry. I flinched at the use of my full name and hoped that Plum had either not heard it or would forget it.
“I propose a new addition to the Deal,” I said quickly. It was either that, or I get another pretty pink lunchbox for school the next day. That would be terrible. I’d have to start wrecking it from scratch.
My mom eyed me warily. “I’m listening.”
“I keep the lunchbox,” I said. “As-is. In exchange, I’ll agree to stop trashing my room every night, provided you keep it like it was when I left this morning. No more added frills.”
“Counter proposal,” my mom said. “You keep this lunchbox, you stop trashing the room, and I get to decorate this box so it looks a little nicer.”
I winced at the suggestion. My mom was a craft-mare. She made things, usually regular things that mares of a certain age really loved, but that younger ponies could be kind of ambivalent about. Things like knitting, cross-stitch, crochet, stuff like that.
But she also made hoof-made items, like picture frames and "jewelry", as she called it. And I knew for a fact that she had several huge bags of sequins and fake gemstones that she’d been dying to find a use for. That dented-up box would end up looking like something that should be hanging from the ceiling of a nightclub. I'd rather have the pink.
“No deal,” I said. “New proposal. I keep the box, as-is, and...” I sighed. This was going to hurt. “And you can decorate my room however you want. I won’t trash it.” Nopony saw my room but me, but everypony at school would see my lunch box. If one of them had to be all girly, I knew which I preferred.
Mom’s eyes widened and she squealed with glee. “Done!” she said. We shook hooves to seal the deal, and that’s when I noticed that Plum was staring at the two of us with wide, confused eyes.
This awkward moment rated a nine out of ten. Easily.
“Uh...” I said, trying to figure out what to do about the little purple filly. My mom wasn’t quite done, though.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to spruce this up, just a little, though?” she asked me. “I mean, okay, no pink, I’m assuming, but I can at least get the dings and scratches out. Maybe re-paint it?”
“No!” I barked, then throttled down on my emotions again. I’d been doing that a lot, recently. I started again in a more normal tone. “No. I like it as-is. It’s fine.”
“It was my dad’s!” Plum piped in cheerily. My mother jumped a little, then turned to blink at her in confusion. I think she’d forgotten the filly was there.
“O-oh, is it?” My mom stuttered. “I mean, it was?”
“Yup!” Plum said with a grin. “He’s an explorer! Only, he’s not doing a lot of exploring right now on account of being kind of sick.”
I blinked. All the things Plum had told me on the walk over, and she never mentioned her dad was sick?
“What happened?” I blurted out before I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to care.
“Bit by a poisonous spider in Zebrica,” Plum said, her smile slipping a couple of notches before she ratcheted it back up and added firmly, “But he’ll be fine! All he needs is a bit more rest, and he’ll be fine.”
Faced by this level of unbridled optimism, all my mother and I could do was nod and agree.
“Aaanyway,” Plum drawled, looking around the house, much to the discomfort of me and my mom, “I should get home. I told my mom I’d be back right after school.”
“Oh... you don’t want to stay a while?” Mom asked hopefully. “It would... I mean, I think it would be nice of Cinnamon had some filly friends stay over and play a while. It would be nice. I could make snacks!”
“Oh, gosh, thanks, but maybe later?” Plum said, still smiling warmly. I didn't know how she managed it. “I really should get home. I’ll check with my mom and see if it’s okay for me to stay later tomorrow, okay?”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” I asked.
“Of course not,” Plum replied.
“Well... if you have to go, then you have to go,” my mom said, though she sounded a little sad when she said it. “Oh! I’ll make sure you have some nice snacks after school tomorrow!”
“That sounds great!” Plum said, as she made her way out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow!" I tagged along, walking her back to the gate.
“Thanks,” I said to her as I opened the gate.
Plum looked at me with curiosity in her eyes. “For what?”
“For playing along,” I muttered. “And... Well, for not saying anything about how messy the house was.”
“Well, the house is a bit cluttered,” Plum said, shrugging, “but I’ve seen worse. You should stop by my house some time!”
She giggled, and I dredged up a hollow smile from somewhere in response.
“Besides,” the purple filly said, “I’m your friend, and friends have each other’s backs, right?”
My mouth hung open for a couple of seconds before I managed to close it. “Right.”
“Well, I really do have to get going. See you tomorrow, Cinnamon!” Plum said, waving as she walked away. “And thanks for the new lunch box!”
I waved back, watching until the little filly was out of sight.
“Friends have each other’s backs...” I said, once the filly was out of sight.
I turned and went back into my old, run-down home. For some reason, my hoof-steps felt a little lighter than before. And, for the first time since I'd gotten back to town, I actually found myself not hating the idea of school in the morning.
Ain’t that the damnedest thing?
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Well this was a surprise to find in my updates... but a very pleasant one!
I'm really liking this one!
Also, I have to say that I LOVE Plum!
Mom has problems...well yes we have already established this, but now we got to see how she acts in an actual conversation. A little dementia setting in maybe?
I hate his mother so very, very much.
But...But...BUT! BUT! .... I wanted moar
Hm that mother strikes a hard bargain.
This story reminds me of someone. Hahahahaha.
Thankies for the awesome-rainbowey-sparkleness~!!!!!
I approve.
Why do I have a feeling that Cinnamon might actually manage to organize a visit to Zecora, not only to possibly help herself, but also maybe get a potion for Plum father?
SHH! Some of us are trying to watch the movie!
2256597
Dang... that mom has issues.
Or as the cast of YGO abridged say:
...
Maternal insanity aside, I'm kind of liking the small amount of character development on Cinnamon's part.
2256482 Neuroses take many different turns. Apparently (as mentioned in Why Am I Pinkie Pie?) he wasn't telling exactly how much his mom wanted a filly. Even the grab-and-run didn't give us that much of a clue.
Bad reaction to the stallions in her life going off and risking their lives for (according to her) no good reason. It's not that uncommon, really.
Ain't it, though?
2256882
Yeah, I get that it's a mental problem making her act this irrationally, but that definitely doesn't make it okay. Props to him for taking it like a man, though.
For some reason, I really love watching Cinnamon and his mom bargain.
I feel like I'm vibrating on the inside. I'm pretty sure that's the excitement.
That woman is fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucked up.
But, it's great chapter, is awesome.
Under the circumstances, this is undeniably adorable and light-hearted
I still say he should kill her and make a run for it in the middle of the night.
I keep finding more things to respect about Cinnamon, each chapter, more and more.
Good luck to you man, and god's speed.
I love his mother.
If I was him I would try to send a letter for help to twilight by having plum send it so his mother can't stop it.
Wow. You did a really good job of having the mom come across as sympathetically deranged. I feel bad for all the characters in this story.
I said it once, I'll say it again.
That. Is. So. Fucked. Up.
It's kinda late where I'm at, but I'm 99% sure that's supposed to be snuck.Scratch that, sneaked is totes legit. Major points if you actually knew that before starting the chapter. :P
2256709 couldn't have said it beter myself! Littlekuribo, you are truly wise!
BROOKLYN RAGE!!!!
This might be a reflection of my maturity level, but I'm pretty sure I'd flip shit day and night until mom finally gives up and takes me to Ponyville or hits me, in which case a quick call to the police who can send you to a "relative in Ponyville" while they charge Mom could clear things up quite nicely.
Or if I was him/her, I'd just "walk to school" and just keep walking. Cinnamon's mom doesn't expect to see him/her for the next eight hours anyways, and being what seems like a smaller, Cheerilee-style school with no telephones, the teacher would likely have to wait until after school to run over and check to see why Cinnamon didn't go to school, or at best send a teacher's aid, which would still give Cinnamon a good hour's lead on them.
Cinnamon could use some pocket sand. Before beating her with a nightstick. Shouldn't officer training still be more effective than his mother even in that midget body? Why not use the Element of surprise?
AAAH UPDATE UPDATE NRRRrrrgrrRRR!
2258380
I agree, thats what makes it so enjoyable.
PS: Is it wrong that I'm actually jealous of Chinnamon?
Mares.
woah look at that
How old is his mother? And how exactly did his father die?
Mom was, uh, interesting. Heh...
Please tell me treating your child like this is illegal.
his mom is pony version of my grandma. How quaint.
I don't like the mobile version of this site knighty. Fix it! Please?
It might just be me being unstable, but I think I might have a psychotic episode if I was in his position and my mom did that to me, so I applaud Cinaman got his level-headedness
Finally got around to reading this; I like it so far. Some build up before the shit goes down.
I approve of this. Please continue.
I think I just realized how original this story is.
Nrrrrg I want an update, why no update?
2377192
You have amazing timing... the next chapter is almost ready. I just have to give it a final edit tomorrow (Saturday) and then post it. Sorry for the wait!
Egads! Cinnimon's mom has more issues than "National Geographic"...
That said, what's probably creeping everyone out is the likelyhood of what might become fairly common if some moms suddenly had underground access to something that does what Poison Joke did to him; "Wanted a boy or girl? want a do-over at raising your child as the gender you wanted? say no more! Juuust a small fee in unmarked bills for this Wonder Product (tm) from Flim-Flam Inc...."
What kind of spjder bit Plum's dad? Do I see a reference to Loyal2Luna's Doctor Whooves series?
2264907
Depends.
In Equestria, quite possibly illegal.
In the real world, almost definitely legal.
Well, despite herself, she is starting to get used to all this.
What I don't get is why can't he report this to cops or something.
4337020 I wonder if he can word it to sound like drug use...
"Mister, she's forcing me to have the effects of these really weird plants..."
2272133 why post that here? PM them.