Lost and Blind

by Blue Cultist

6. Morning Routine

Lost and Blind
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Chapter 6: Morning Routine
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Sleep died from the thunderous clatter of a metal alarm clock.

Sleep ended, but not the darkness of Jonathan’s world.

Pinkie had bolted upright almost as the first ring of her alarm clock had sounded, rising with unnatural exuberance at the prospect of making donuts.

Her bedmate was not so enthusiastic. Instead of rising he clenched his eyes and tried to drown out the noise with his pillow.

Unperturbed by her hew-min’s attempts to force his way back to dreamland, Pinkie casually turned her alarm off before prancing to his side of the bed. With the grace of a master magician, Pinkie pulled the sheets and blanket off the bed with one clean jerk, leaving the human alone on the mattress.

“Up and at’em, sleepyhead! We wanna have time to eat breakfast before we start baking today!” Pinkie said as she bounced on her hooves as if she was ready to rocket down the stairs this very second.

The pillow was lowered from Jonathan’s ears as the cold of the morning air pricked his bare skin.

“You go. I’ll stay here.” Jonathan groped around for the covers that were no longer there. He wasn’t here to bake cookies. That was Pinkie’s thing.

Undaunted, Pinkie tugged on the waistband of his pajama bottoms, “Nope, because if you don’t you won’t get any breakfast.”

Jonathan rubbed his face, the ache in his eyes leaping up as if it too was stirring from slumber. The events of yesterday slowly trickled back into his memory, and despite all his hopes he was still blind, and still trapped in a world of talking horses. Whatever had brought him here had clearly not seen fit to send him back.

Pinkie poked his bare side with her cold hoof, eliciting a startled yelp from the human.

“C’mon, I can smell pancakes...” Pinkie teased.

It was a childish statement, and Jonathan was about to tell her to leave when he too could smell the odor of pancakes. It made his insides clench, momentarily eclipsing the ache in his eyes as his body began to ache for substance. Tempting as it was, he still would have preferred sleep. He might have tried if he hadn’t noticed another smell drifting up from the Cake’s kitchen.

It was the alluring smell of freshly brewed coffee.

Where pleading, hunger, and cold failed, caffeine addiction succeeded. With a shiver, Jonathan pulled himself from his warm spot on the mattress and up onto his feet. He yawned, gave a stretch, and pulled his pajama bottoms higher. He felt like a slob going to breakfast with strangers while not wearing a shirt, but it couldn’t be helped.

“I’ll help you find the stairs, come on.” Pinkie said, presumptuously bumping his leg with her barrel.

Jonathan frowned, feeling a little annoyed that Pinkie assumed he couldn’t find the stairs but as the fog of sleep began to leave his brain he had to admit he truly didn’t know where the stairs were. With his hand once more on the pony’s back, he allowed her to lead him to the stairwell.

As with the previous day, Pinkie was Jonathan’s shadow as he traveled the stairs. The shallow pony-made stairs and his stooping posture meant that it took longer than it probably should have, but Pinkie easily kept pace with him.

An exploring probe of his free hand revealed there was a low handrail. Why quadrupeds would need a handrail however was a bit beyond Jonathan’s ability to reason so early in the morning. It was a good sign that even though it was short, he could easily climb these stairs again without Pinkie’s aid.

Finally, Pinkie called out they were near the bottom of the stairs. Jonathan’s barefoot touched what could only be a rug, much different than the cold wooden surface of the steps. He paused, testing the area around it to confirm this was indeed the bottom of the stairs, and he was proven correct.

“I thought that might be useful since you can’t tell when the steps would end.” Pinkie said, clearly proud of her forethought.

Truthfully it was, but Jonathan hoped it wouldn’t be something he’d need for very long. Nevertheless, he traced his hand up to her head to ruffle her mane.

With a wide smile, Pinkie led Jonathan back to the dining room. Mr. Cake was already there, reading a newspaper with what Pinkie recognized as a plate smeared with maple syrup and crumbs of pancakes.

Three other plates were set, with plenty more than just pancakes.

The sound of hooves on the carpet behind them got Jonathan to turn his head on reflex. Pinkie looked too and saw Mrs. Cake was approaching from the kitchen. She was in mid-yawn, and her mane was a mess, suggesting she had gone to cook breakfast before anything else.

“Good morning!” Pinkie beamed with all the warmth of a sunny day.

“Good morning dears, did you sleep well?” Cup Cake asked, a shadow of weariness still lurking in her voice.

“Yup! I can’t wait to get to baking!” Pinkie declared, utterly devoid of any of the lethargy in Jonathan or the Cakes, “I’ve been waiting for this all year since you agreed to let me come stay with you.”

Cup Cake chuckled warmly as she ushered them into the dining room. As with last night, Pinkie led Jonathan to the small stool, which he squatted down onto and sat hunched over his plate.

Mr. Cake peeked over his paper at the human, but quickly shifted his attention to Pinkie.

“So Pinkie, will you need help finding the train station to ask about sending Jonathan home?” Carrot Cake asked.

Pinkie pulled the serving platter of pancakes over and was helping Jonathan to a large portion, “Nah, I’m sure I can find my way. If not, I can always just ask. I’m sure everypony knows where it is!”

Carrot Cake couldn’t help but smile at Pinkie’s attitude, “I’m sure you’ll find it with that attitude, once the breakfast rush is over, of course.”

Pinkie gave a nod, “You can trust me not to shirk my baking duties! This is my first time away from the farm so I gotta make a good impression on everypony!”

“‘First time away from the farm?’” Jonathan asked.

“Yup, this is my first time coming to a town as big as Ponyville.” Pinkie said.

Jonathan gave a small smile, “I guess we’re sorta in the same boat then.”

“Yupperoni, but we’ll get things figured out lickety-split! Just you wait and...” Pinkie flinched, “Er, find out?”

It was a commendable save, but it didn’t exactly work. Jonathan gave her points for trying.

Cup Cake seated herself beside her husband.

The mare of the house watched as the human touched the side of his plate, and seemed to be searching for something.

“Can I help you, Jonathan?” Cup Cake asked.

“I don’t know if this will seem like a strange question, but where is the silverware?” The human asked.

"Silverware?" Pinkie blinked, "You mean that super fancy stuff that unicorns eat with?"

Jonathan tilted his head toward Pinkie, “Unicorns?”

“Yeah, you know. Like me and the Cakes but a horn can do magic and stuff.” Pinkie said nonchalantly, “Oh that’s right you said you’d never met a pony like me before, so you’ve probably never heard of a unicorn.”

This tidbit had the Cakes cast a silent confused look at the human, both of them wondering how he could make it so far within Equestria but not know what a unicorn was.

Jonathan however simply dismissed Pinkie’s explanation. She had previously stated she hadn’t ever been off her farm before, so even if unicorns also existed in this crazy place it stood to reason that Pinkie might have been fed some misconceptions.

This line of reasoning didn’t explain how unicorns (magic or not) could use silverware with hooves. But before Jonathan could ponder any further a fork was pressed into his hand.

“We normally keep a set for when any unicorn guests, so please feel free to remind us while you’re here.” Said Mrs. Cake, who was now standing next to him.

“Thank you.” Jonathan said, “For all of this.”

Mrs. Cake smiled and returned to her husband’s side.

Such fluffy excellence. The familiar blandness of store brand instant pancake mixes was nothing compared to what Jonathan was inhaling. Each bite was fluffy without being mush, the texture was unlike anything he’d experienced. It was almost like the Cakes had managed to partially leaven their pancakes from how they seemed to have risen in the pan just a little.

Pinkie had poured syrup for him on them and went a little overboard but even that was delicious. Instead of the homogenous stuff he got at the store this felt like it had a vintage, there was a unique flavor to it like he could taste what the tree had given up to make this.

The eggs were more or less the same as he knew it, just without any salt. He didn’t mind, he felt he needed to cut back on his sodium intake anyway. The coffee however was the real prize. It wasn’t some high-quality stuff but Jonathan could almost feel the blessed caffeine seeping into his bloodstream. It was when he got to the third item off his plate he finally stopped eating.

The first bite was crispy, whatever it was it was obviously fried but as he chewed his first bite he paused. He had first thought it to be hashbrowns, but they were dry and poked at his cheeks. After trying to chew that first bite several times Jonathan finally identified what it was and raised his plate to spit out the fried hay without looking like he was metaphorically spitting in the Cake’s faces.

The ponies had seen this of course and watched as the human looked visibly repulsed by what he’d tasted. Pinkie had eaten her hay hash first, but she thought it was great.

“Something wrong with your hay hash?” Mrs. Cake asked, hoping with all her pride as a baker that she hadn’t made him sick.

“N-no it’s not that...” Jonathan strained his vocabulary to come up with a gentle way of vocalizing his thoughts, “I know you probably spent a lot of time making this, but I don’t think I can eat this.”

Cup Cake couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. She had never met anypony who didn’t like her hay hash and yet here was the one creature who’d broken that record. This she reasoned was just one of the many unexpected things she’d experience living with a non-pony under her roof. At least he was polite.

“Well, don’t worry about it. I’m pleased you tried it at least.” Cup Cake said as she took the empty plate, “Did you like the rest of it?”

“Some of the best pancakes I’ve ever had,” Jonathan said, glad he could move onto a positive topic.

A smile returned to Cup Cake’s face, “Good! Now that we’ve eaten it’s time to get to work. I’ll toss these into the sink, and Pinkie you can help Carrot with the donuts.”

Pinkie squealed with delight, “Lead me to the fryer! I’ll make the best you’ve ever seen!”

Carrot Cake liked her enthusiasm and stood to lead the young mare to the kitchen. The plates were soon collected by Cup Cake, and although she was a little hesitant to let those hairless paws touch her back, she knew the blind creature might not be able to find his way around.

“Do you think you can handle more dishwashing, dear?” Cup Cake ventured, not wanting to press on the injured creature.

“It’s better than sitting here listening to the walls...” Jonathan sighed, rising from his seat.

Cup Cake watched him, slowly measuring his steps, using the edge of the table to guide him toward the door, only coming to a halt when he ran out of table.

“Here, let me help you.” Cup Cake said gently, mimicking Pinkie as she stood beside the human and tapped his leg.

The act was a little patronizing, but Jonathan didn’t want to argue. He guessed if he could make it to the door he didn’t exactly know if multiple doors were leading to the dining room. Each room was an opportunity to get lost and waste time.

With Cup Cake’s help, it wasn’t long before he was washing all the dishes and pans that had been used to make breakfast. It wasn’t anything special, his home dishwasher had been broken for years and he hadn’t had the money to fix it or get a new one, so doing them by hand was an everyday occurrence.

It was mindless, brainless work. Rub the washcloth around the surface, feel for anything stuck on, rinse, place on the rack, repeat. But it did provide ample opportunity to listen in on Mr. Cake as he taught Pinkie all about making donuts.

It was a simple process, at least it sounded like one. Jonathan got to hear Pinkie excitedly fixate over every detail that Mr. Cake laid out in the process, and despite her silliness, she seemed to soak up the information like a sponge. His own task was hardly as important or glamorous, but it was certainly better than standing there like some voyeur.

“Jonathan, when you’re done would you like to help me with something?” Mrs. Cake asked.

The question drew Jonathan out of his drudgery, and he turned an ear toward where he thought Mrs. Cake was standing.

“I think I only have some stuff in the bottom of the tray,” The human said, “What do you need my help with?”

“Well, have you ever worked an ice cream churn?” She asked.

A smile came to Jonathan’s face. Old memories of turning a heavy metal crank at his aunt’s farmhouse, and all the sounds, smells, and even the faces he used to see. It was a happy memory, yet it stung at him now.

“I used to churn ice cream at my aunt’s every year since I could reach the sink,” Jonathan said, with just a hint of pride.

Cup Cake smiled, “Good, if you can handle that then I can open the front. I just need to get my mane in order and it’ll be time to start letting ponies in.”

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The sound of the ice cream churn going around in slow, rhythmic turns could be heard as Mrs. Cake made her last checks behind the register. Everything was in order, and so she moved to the door. As always ponies were waiting in the early morning light for her to open the doors.

She had set several loaves of bread out to cool, and muffins that had been started along with breakfast were sitting ready to be enjoyed. Baking in the morning was no challenge at all if you pre-mix batter and store it in the fridge all night. Fresh coffee had been brewed, and donuts were coming out clockwork. They were ready.

With a quick trot to the door, Mrs. Cake flipped the store sign to ‘Open’ and unlocked the door, and retreated to the counter.

First in line, as always was Minuette. The unicorn was a Canterlot resident but she spent so much time in Ponyville that nearly everypony knew her. Some claimed she was a clockmaker while others said she was a dentist, but nopony had bothered to ask. It didn’t matter, after all.

She was a loyal, predictable, paying customer.

“Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner, what can I get you this wonderful morning?” Cup Cake asked with practiced enthusiasm.

Minuette chuckled, “Hiya Mrs. Cake, my usual coffee and two honey-glazed.”

Cup Cake gladly moved to pour the mare’s coffee but noticed how Minuette kept her eyes focused on the dutch doors that led to the kitchen as if she was trying to peer around the corner.

“Is something the matter?” Cup Cake asked, already bagging the donuts for her always-punctual customer.

“Well, a lot of ponies are saying you have a monster staying with you. I wanted to see if I could catch a glimpse of it.”

Cup Cake’s well-practiced smile faltered, “Um, there’s no monster here. You must be mistaken.”

Minuette looked unconvinced but continued to eye the kitchen with almost voyeuristic enthusiasm. When Mrs. Cake rang up her bill, Minuette paid and left with a disappointed ‘goodbye.’

And on it went. Not every pony wanted to see the creature in the kitchen, but enough did that Cup Cake began to wonder exactly what rumors were circulating around Ponyville.

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To be continued...
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Comments

[NinjaMare]

why do ponies always assume humans are monsters?

[Winter Star]

Thanks for another chapter.

Jonathan should probably let them know, at some point, humans shouldn't eat hay to stop further misunderstanding over foods he can safely eat.

Noticed an error:

Cup Cake seated herself and seated herself beside her husband.

[readsponies]

I keep dreading every time he washes dishes that there will be a knife.

[Orrm]

10522812
Ponies assume anything that isn't a pony is a monster.

Remember that time they almost rainbow-lazer'd Zecora?

[ArgentPhoenix]

10522812
Remember Zecora?, not calling xenophobia on them, but when you keep a "creature" that you never heard before in secret and rumors begin to circulate... it will devolve into a story or a legend or a myth. Think like ET, in the movie we never see him come out of a spaceship and yet we all drew the conclusion thay he was an alien in the first minutes, what if we where wrong and he was a Fae?
SorrynotsorryforMonologueing

[Orrm]

I'm really, really liking the quality of the rewrite. It's a welcome improvement on a already good idea.

[TheKingIsDead]

The eggs were more or less the same as he knew it, just without any salt. He didn’t mind, he felt he needed to cut back on his sodium intake anyway. The coffee however was the real prize. It wasn’t some high-quality stuff but Jonathan could almost feel the blessed caffeine seeping into his bloodstream. It was when he got to the third item off his plate he finally stopped eating.

The hypocrisy is grand, here. Cut down on salt, but not coffee? Blasphemous!

[Morphy]

10522887

I'm almost positive that there will be knives. Large ones used in a commercial kitchen. It's the small ones that get mixed in with the forks and spoons that'll cut you good (kinda like how the baby scorpions are more dangerous). Large ones can be anticipated and handled properly. I think his bigger concern is just getting around without tripping over ponies or their low furniture. He only recently went blind so his other senses, like hearing, haven't quite built up to take over the slack. The rug at the bottom of the stairs was a very nice touch too, I hadn't thought of that to help him navigate the place.

As for rumors of a "monster" at the bakery, well, this is a small town after all with a whole lotta mares. Gossip is the only thing faster than Rainbow Dash after all, heh.

I do wonder how the Princesses will receive him however. Some fiction would have them "protect" the lone human by making him ambassador for humanity and therefore get them the official excuse on how to give him legal protection as well as bits to (modestly) live on. Other fiction has the human proclaimed an endangered species (being there is just one in the whole world) and therefore protected by multiple laws regarding the treatment of such. Can't recall many if any had the human classified as "refugee". However, most times, the fiction would have the princesses use their own discretionary spending to give the human a small allowance (for lack of a better term) and let them live the relative peace of Ponyville-- not that that'll ever happen.

[Blue Cultist]

10523294
For the record: my washing machine was last used in the 1980s, and I'm kinda afraid to try it, so I hand wash everything. The first thing I do every night is find the carving and paring knives and wash them, making sure I have nothing in the suds that I can accidentally cut myself. Never have cut myself this way but its always been a concern.

As for what the Princesses will think of him? Good question.

[redandready45]

I feel bad for the poor guy.

He not only has to deal with blindness, but the paranoid nature of Ponyville.

[Venerable Ro]

Ah the Ponyville rumor mill, just as productive as ever I see.

[Viper Pit]

10522812
looks at self in a mirror i can see why

[Pelakka_wurm]

Ahh washing pots and pans by hand is a daily occurrence where I live mainly because we go through 4 or 5 a day and we would need to do the dishwasher daily if we didn't wash them by hand helps that we have six people living at the house.

[JodiePonyPuddinAndPie]

This whole chapter made me hungry 🥺 guess it’s time for a 1am snack...

[darklight731]

Oh this is nice. I love how Mrs.Cake is so willing to help Jonathan find something useful to do.