A newly transferred postal worker encounters a gray-coated mare with a partly mirrored reality and whose foolish behavior withholds unseen truths.
Seeking sanctity from a broken past life, a newly transferred postal worker starts life anew in the small town of Ponyville. Inevitably, he encounters a gray-coated mare with whom he'd rather be without in having to witness her clumsy nature. Realization strikes hardest when he notices a partly mirrored reality. The dual nature of an arising problematic situation provides insight into this mare's foolish behavior.
Special thank you to my friend, DuskApproaches, in pre-reading this story.
Life is mostly froth and bubble, Two things stand like stone, Kindness in another's trouble, Courage in your own - Adam Lindsay Gordon
Standing amid the bustling activity of the local post office, I patiently waited for the postmaster to free up enough time to delegate today's responsibilities. Every now and then I would have to dodge those that were diligently working. It felt more like my presence was an unwanted obstacle rather than a beneficial newly transferred employee helping to lessen the day's workload. It is not that the room was very large or there were many employees. The sorting room was rather small and only two employees remained active. Be that as it may, their rapid movements in carrying out their work had them bumping and colliding into me every few passing seconds waiting for the postmaster to come out of the office.
I have been working in the postal industry for a decade now. However, this particularly ignorant postmaster requested I retake training before being assigned my carrier route. It is such a wonder on how some like this postmaster readily disregard prior experience as though they are teaching something new. Retaking training doesn't bother me, but doing nothing around others at work makes me feel a little out of place. If others are hard at work, I might as well keep up with them or stay out of the way. Besides, working hard keeps my mind off of...other things.
Moving out to a peaceful small town like Ponyville is the exact reason why I made such a choice - to escape a place of bad memories. I told my son about the move and he seemed to be the only one upset. He was so upset that he hugged me and wouldn't let go for at least ten minutes. Maybe when he gets older he'll understand that this is just the way the world works sometimes. If your present situation is not providing you any happiness, feelings of wandering and moving on will take root.
To my relief, the postmaster reappeared, exiting and closing his office door. With a lot on his mind, he didn't make much eye contact with me as he lead the way out the front door of the post office to the town's streets. When we were both outside he drew in a deep breath of fresh air making comments on today's heavy workload and huge piles of mail to sort.
"Sir, why am I retaking training?" I asked without hesitation trying to hold back my irritation in being treated like an inexperienced mail carrier.
"It's not training, son," he quickly replied with one eye on me while trying to enjoy a short break before the day's activity. "You keep asking me the same question but my answer is not going to change. Think of this as an opportunity of getting associated with a welcoming small community. I just wanted your first day to be spent socializing with those that might want to know who is delivering their news."
"Why would anypony care who is delivering their mail?"
"In a small community such as this you'd be surprised, son. Besides, think of it more as 'news' than 'mail' and you'll see things in a different light."
"All right, fine. Its 'news' but why would anypony care about who is delivering it?"
"Son," began the postmaster giving full attention to his new worker, "you come from a big city and might not understand the way small town folk see things. You may have been comfortable having complete strangers affect your personal private life but, out here, we care about who we're dealing with on a daily basis. Friends and family intertwine to form communal living. How many neighbors did you get along with back in the city?"
"I believe two or three," I said trying to think about who my neighbors were in that city but only remembering a couple off the top of my head.
"Well, you're in a different environment now, son," he said turning his attention back to the outside air, "one that'll embrace you wholeheartedly. You'd be surprised at how much you could have in common with those whose 'news' is delivered by your hoof. You have a chance at becoming part of this accepting community, son. Let them get to know and take you in as one of their own."
"Hold on a minute! Sir, just because I didn’t know my neighbors too well doesn’t mean I need lessons in communicating with others. As a mail carrier having years of experience, I can assure you that my social skills are more than adequate. Speaking to others is one the reasons I took a postal worker’s position. It is a worthwhile experience to talk with others on a mail carrier route. Besides, you make it sound like I'm going to be brainwashed by a cult or my daily job is to build friendships with the townsfolk. I’m not put off by the latter as making new friends would be fantastic, but the first better not be true."
The postmaster couldn't help but burst out laughing when he heard these words. His laugh lasted for a few minutes while I stood nearby eyeing him curiously trying to figure out what was so funny.
"Ah, city folk," he said wiping a tear from his eye. "Son, I'm only trying to get you acquainted with the local community. I'm not trying to brainwash you, force you to have friends, or...whatever it is you're thinking about. I'm merely trying to get you to understand the importance in delivering 'news' from a trusted hoof."
"I understand that sir, but-"
"-ah, right on time as always."
I was cutoff mid-sentence as a mare came bounding happily towards us. The gray mare's eyes were shut while she made her way down the street. I noticed that a postal worker's hat sat upon her blonde-haired head making it clear this is where she worked. As she came closer joyfully humming to herself, she opened both eyes, one normal and the other lazy. She gave a short enthusiastic wave of one foreleg in our direction to which the postmaster returned it with a smile on his face.
"Sorry I'm late, sir. I was just dropping off Dinky at school," she said within speaking distance of the postmaster and I.
"No need for apologizes, Ditzy. In fact, you're right on time. I'm not sure why you're always convinced that you're late," replied the postmaster.
"Oh, right. Silly me." The mare blushed in embarrassment.
"Right. Introductions. Ditzy, this is our newest employee. I want him to follow you around on your route today so as to get acquainted with the town. I'm sure you'll both get to know each other better, but right now I need to get back inside as there is a lot of work to do today. If you two need anything, let me know."
With that said the postmaster disappeared into the building leaving me behind with an awkward stare from a fellow coworker I didn't know yet. Her wide open smile was freaking me out a little so I tried to come up with a greeting to break the silence.
"So, hi, um. My name is-"
"-Oh, wow! A new pony! We're gonna have so much fun today: we'll go visit a few friends, eat muffins together, learn all about each other, tell funny stories, maybe go frolicking through tow-"
"-Frolicking?!"
"Uh-huh. Yeah, we're going to have so much fun today, mister."
Frolicking. I lowered my head into my hoof trying to curb an oncoming headache. I closed both eyes for a second so I wouldn't have to see that outlandish smile and sighed a deep breath.
"Listen. Let's just get this day over with as I'm not in mood to go...frolicking."
"Okay, mister. You might change your mind, though."
She gave me a wink and headed into the post office to get her mail bag sorted specifically for that carrier route. I stayed outside in not wanting to spend the day with a childish mare. I didn't go to work everyday to play games meant for fillies or have fun.
Today brought on one irritation after another. I must had been outside waiting for nearly half an hour before the gray mare emerged from the building. We were about ready to head off when she noticed she had the wrong mail bag. She then blushed and went back inside. I continued to wait outside watching the sun rise higher into the sky. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally came back out with the right mail bag.
As said before, I've been working in the postal industry for a decade now so following this gray mare around felt a little more than strange. Everywhere we went, ponies waved to her and she waved back. On several occasions we stopped to have idle chit chat and conversations with the locals. This didn't bother me. What did bother me is that she kept referring to me as some inexperienced new worker needing her guidance.
"Hey there, Rose. Those flowers look awfully pretty," Derpy said to a mare tending to a small rose garden in front of her house. Ditzy bent down to get a good smell from them.
"Why thank you, Derpy. Who's this handsome stallion? Haven't seen him around before," the pony said looking me up and down.
"Just a new inhabitant to Ponyville, ma'am," I said with a tip of my hat.
"Well, it's nice to meet you too, you stud," she said giving me a wink.
For once today, I was glad when Ditzy broke the silence. I felt like this conversation would have made a turn for the worse.
"Oh, him?" Ditzy said raising her head to look at me. "I'm taking him along my route today per the boss's orders. He's like my little protégé."
I felt a little rise in agitation from hearing that last word. She was treating me like an underling that needed direction and guidance. As we were leaving this pony to tend to her garden, Ditzy accidentally stepped on some of the flowers. She repeatedly apologized for being clumsy and not paying attention. This wouldn't have been such a bad thing if she wasn't still standing on the said flowers. I almost had to push her off of them to save what little life they had left.
The monotony of the morning was spent in this manner of not only delivering mail but speaking with every single pony we passed. The strangest part in these conversations is that each pony referred to Ditzy as Derpy starting with that pony tending the rose garden. Why? By the time lunch came, I requested that we leave each other's company for a short break. She, however, insisted with pushes and shoves that we visit the local bakery for some delicious muffins. I had no alternative but to agree to this 'lunch.'
Entering the bakery, we were greeted by an overly joyful pink pony. She asked many prying questions about me to which I responded that I had already answered these questions when I first arrived. Before I had gotten off the train, I was nearly attacked by this pony curious about my move to Ponyville. She stopped asking questions after a while and seemed to know what Ditzy was going to order before she could say anything. Quicker than a flash, she dove into the back of the shop to get fresh muffins for Ditzy and I. We both thanked the pink pony and exited the bakery making me glad to get away from that pestering.
A thought from an earlier conversation came across my mind.
"Ditzy, why do some of the ponies around here call you 'Derpy' if you don't mind my asking? That pony tending to the rose garden mentioned that name."
"Derpy's my name, silly!"
"And Ditzy is not?" I said a little confused.
"Ditzy is my name, too."
"Is Derpy a nickname, then? I don't see how that can be an actual name."
"You can say that it is a nickname if you want, mister."
"Why the name, Derpy? It seems a little insulting."
The smile she held all day promptly disappeared from her face. She turned to look away from me sitting down where we stood.
"Well, the name Derpy was given to me a long time ago due to my clumsy nature. It IS a little insulting, mister. But I've only learned to accept it as time went on. One particular pony called me by that name a long time ago and it has been with me since. Gossiping and rumors spread it around I suppose. A name is only a name and doesn't say who I am."
She turned around with her face forming the bright awkward smile again.
"So, mister, how about those delicious muffins?"
I reached into the bag given to us by the pink pony, pulled out a muffin, and handed it to Ditzy. The moment it touched her hoof it crumbled to pieces and blew away in the wind. I'd not believe such an event could happen if I didn't see it with my own two eyes. Ditzy was a bit sad and confused with me not able to say anything. I reached into the bag for another muffin but the rest had fallen apart. A cold shiver ran down my back as this occurrence didn't seem normal.
[/hr]
The afternoon offered the same amount of aggravation as the morning. We continued Ditzy's mail route to deliver mail stopping to talk to everypony. Some ponies we didn't talk to because we had already greeted them in the morning hours. More than once Ditzy caused other ponies problems. For starters, she accidentally tripped over some ponies trying to move a heavy object down stairs. She later collided into an unaware citizen while looking back to talk with me. Next, she gave a pony the wrong mail while distracted by idle conversation. Good thing she realized the mistake a few seconds later. Additionally, she placed a muffin into a mailbox rather than actual mail.
I wanted to argue with the insulting nickname but her actions validated it. By the day's end, my desire to part ways was reaching a feverish point. That moment came when we finally gathered the outgoing mail needed to be collected for sorting. We made our way back to the post office with the collected mail. I carried said mail to feel like I actually did something for the day.
When we got back, Ditzy took the mail into the back room and I noticed the postmaster eyeing an open letter in his hoof with a somewhat serious expression and his other hoof raised to his chin. His eyes raced back and forth as if studying every word. When Ditzy reemerged from the back room she said her goodbyes before heading off to pick up her daughter from school. The postmaster said nothing but eyed her with a serious look on his face. After leaving, the postmaster returned to reading the letter now scratching his head.
"This is a little harsh," he whispered to himself. "How am I going to break the news?"
"Excuse me, sir," I said interrupting his deep concentration. "I didn't transfer to this post office to be treated like an inexperienced mail carrier. All day I've had to follow that mare around only to see her commit mistake after mistake. I don't see how this day would have provided me with a real learning experience. I could have gotten to know the town's citizens well enough on my own. If you could just please give me my own route, I'll be more than happy to quit complaining and start working the job I've been assigned. I need some work. Any work. To keep my mind off my wife leaving me and taking my little colt away. Assigning a day's worth of aggravation is not going to help with that or provide any beneficial learning. If I'm being too abrupt or forward, then I'm sorry sir. But this needs to be made clear."
"Wife and colt?" he said raising both eyes to meet mine. "I'm very sorry to hear that. No, no, I understand. I'll get you a mail carrier route tomorrow. It seems I should value your employment a bit more."
"Thank you, sir. I'll be heading home now."
"Can you hold on for one second and stay a while longer?"
I halted my exit to wait further instructions while he kept reading. Once in a while he looked up to the nearest window to look outside as though seeing somepony. Curiosity got the better of me and I followed his gaze to see Ditzy outside the building fiddling with some of her belongings in a pack carried at her side. The postmaster gave out a sigh.
"Right. This letter in my hoof is supposed to be given to Ditzy. It is from her husband. Some of her mail goes through me for...various reasons. Normally, I would give her this mail but...and this is a long shot...I think you should give it to her. If I'm right, this will help you both in the long run. You still have a few moments before she leaves for the day. So, get to it."
He handed me the letter with a serious look on his face. I took the letter while feeling a bit of suspicion from this act. Nonetheless I walked outside to see Ditzy still shuffling around in the bag.
"Hi, Ditzy."
"Oh, Hi!" She said giving me her full attention.
"The postmaster wanted me to give you this letter that was delivered to him," I said handing her the letter to which she immediately began reading its words. "I'll be leaving now. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Take care."
I watched her read the letter with fast eye movements and started to walk away. Being glad the day was over, all I wanted to do was relax at home. There was enough on my mind and today's activities didn't help to draw thought away from my own problems. I was about ten paces from where I had just been when I heard a loud wail. I turned around to find Ditzy on the ground audibly and visibly crying. She desperately tried to cover up the despair with a foreleg as many tears hit the ground. I didn't know what to do and my only recourse was to approach her. Nopony came out from inside the post office and none were found nearby. I was the only one there.
"...Ditzy? A-are you okay?"
She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said one thing. "I-I just don't know what went wrong!"
I stood there speechless trying to form a comforting response.
How DARE the postmaster set me up like that! I must had been standing before Ditzy for thirty minutes not able to say a single word! All that time not a single pony came outside of the building to help her! Somepony else MUST of heard her cry out in pain, too! I'm not the only one that was working there, after all! I couldn't be! And what about the postmaster!? I'm sure he could see everything from the window! What is that stallion playing at in not coming out to help until he was sure I couldn't do anything!?
The frustration I felt inside boiled over and I bucked the house's interior wall next to the front door creating two new holes. Looking back at those two holes, I relaxed a little bit but the heavy breathing continued. The heavy breathing stopped once I realized that I had almost kicked my family's picture sitting on a dresser next to the front door. Picking up the framed picture, I was very glad that it remained undamaged. My son remained happy next to both his smiling parents oblivious to the short-lived rage his father had just showed.
I sat down at that very spot on the floor and continued to look at the picture with memories flooding back. It is such a wonder that a simple framed picture can double as one's own mirrored past. Back then life was simple and blissful. Everything has fallen apart now. It started with my wife wanting to seek short-lived private 'alone' time, then more space and longer time spent apart. 'It is only temporary,' she always told me. It is maddening how 'temporary' becomes permanent. We never had any fights; it was more like we grew apart. When the romance died out there was nothing left keeping us together. Well, one thing - our little colt.
We tried to make it work, we really did. We stayed together two more years after our first serious conversations about separation in hopes that we could hold out on drifting apart until our little colt was all grown up. How can somepony explain these things to their yearling? That sometimes stallions and mares just fall out of love? I took my left hoof and touched my son's joyful face hoping to once again know his touch. All I felt was glass. I placed the picture back onto the dresser and continued to look at its smiling faces.
After we separated, custody of our little colt was given to my wife including the house we lived in for many years. I had visitation rights so I could see him every now and then. However, as time passed, my ex-wife became convinced I was a bad influence on our son. I wasn't a bad influence...I couldn't be. My visitation rights were kept within the limits set forth by the ruling court. I tried my hardest to gain more leverage in those proceedings, but the court has a way of being one-sided sometimes.
The worst news came when my ex-wife let me know that she had married another stallion. The stallion was a good step-father. He never did anything wrong to our little colt. However, I could only feel like I had been replaced and my previous life was stolen. My continued visits with my son only resulted in conversations about the step father. I didn't start these conversations - my son did. I had to endure wonderful stories on how they, as a family, did this, did that, went here, went there.
I needed to get away from that city. I really did. There was nothing but bitter memories lingering in its air. When I told my little colt I was moving, he cried for hours on end. I assured him of my continued visits. I just needed to get away from that city. He wasn't entirely convinced and thought I'd never return. It breaks my heart in thinking about his pain.
It breaks my heart to know he was caught in the middle of a parents' separation.
Staring at that picture, I couldn't find the strength to get into bed. I fell asleep in that exact spot awaiting for the next morning's work to take my mind off these problems.
[/hr]
Without setting an alarm, I was still remarkably on time for work. The postmaster didn't say anything about yesterday's event and gave me my assigned mail carrier route. I departed for it before the gray mare arrived in hopes of avoiding an embarrassing encounter. What happened yesterday was not fun. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to relive it. Those loud cries still rang in my ears like a ghost haunting my very soul. The very look she gave me with those tear-filled eyes showed so much pain. Half of me wanted to know what happened. The other half hoped it was just a bad dream.
The mail carrier route was easy enough to complete. With my dedication to the job, I was done with two hours to spare. The folk of this town are very nice. A few times I stopped to have casual conversations with them. A certain pony, Bon Bon, was telling me specific ways on how to make candy without resorting to high amounts of sugar. She pointed out many different ingredients that were natural sweeteners I never knew about.
I stopped by a boutique that sold clothes. After passing along a few packages over to the store owner, I had a charming conversation with her. It seemed her cat was nowhere to be seen but I noticed a ball of white fur hiding up in a nearby tree. I offered to get the cat down and got scratched a few times. The store owner laughed a bit and we continued talking pleasantries.
By the day's end, I was feeling pretty happy. The postmaster had wanted me to socialize but he didn't understand that this is why I chose this career. For one, I get to walk around stretching my legs. Two, I get to meet all kinds of ponies living their daily lives. I have to admit that his idea of not delivering mail but 'news' peaks my interest. Certainly it would be foolish to not see that the messages we carry would be news to those who receive them.
Arriving back at the post office with my load of retrieved outgoing mail, I noticed Derpy outside of the building with the same postal hat. She seemed rather happy and in high spirits. I wouldn't know what to do if she was still depressed. She had a little filly running around her legs in excitement. I had been avoiding her all day and didn't want to be completely rude so I approached her.
"Hi, you seem to be doing much better today. How are things?"
"Oh, hi! Everything's much better! Thanks for asking!" she said with that wide open bright smile. I was actually glad to see that smile's return.
"So, who's this cute little princess?" I said kneeling down to get a better look at the excited filly. "I can certainly see she gets her good looks from her mother."
"She's my daughter, Dinky!" Ditzy said blushing in embarrassment.
"Is she now? She sure seems in high spirits."
"Yeah, her father is coming two days from now after work to pick her up. She had an early out from school so I brought her here. Dinky, say hi to a pony that works at the post office with me."
The filly jumped up and down in front of me.
"Hi! My name's Dinky! I'm gonna be the best unicorn ever! Mommy and Daddy tell me so every night!"
"Can you show me some of that magic, darling?"
"Sure can, mister!"
The little filly then began struggling to cast magic from her horn. Surprisingly, she managed to lift my hat a few inches off my head.
"Wow! You're certainly talented! Your mommy and daddy must be right considering what I've just seen."
"Of course they're right! Daddy teaches me so much when I'm with him!"
I spent some time outside talking to Ditzy and Dinky before heading into the post office. It was really nice to see Ditzy happy unlike yesterday. I couldn't help but wonder what in that letter made her so sad. For a while, I thought something had happened to her ex-husband. Still, I had no nerve to ask her outright about the letter's content. It was her business and not mine. If she were to let me know, it should be of her own accord.
Ditzy and Dinky finally headed off back home with the little filly still running circles around her mother's legs. A memory of my son flashed across my mind...my son used to excitedly run circles around his mother's legs too. I continued to watch them walk off into the distance until both disappeared. No matter how much I wish things would return to what they once were, I'll never have little moments like that again. After all, we must endure the life we choose. Maybe I should have never let our lives drift apart. I wonder if I even had a choice.
[/hr]
As soon as I entered the post office, the postmaster called me over to him. He dropped what he was doing giving me his full attention.
"Listen, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I thought things would turn out differently."
"You read the letter. How DID you think it was going to turn out?"
"I know, I know. Did you read the letter? Did Ditzy say anything about it?"
"No, I have no idea what it contained. All I got was an inconsolable mare crying her eyes out. I didn't need that on my first day, you know!"
"Fair enough. Again, I sincerely apologize for putting that on your shoulders. I thought you would be the perfect one to help her."
"Sir, what're you going on about?"
The postmaster sighed deeply, walked over to the nearby window staring out it, and continued his talk.
"Son, there are some things life throws at us that catches us off guard. When these things happen, those with similar situations can offer the most assistance from experience. Ditzy and you have a lot more in common than you think you do. Normally, I talk these things out with her. I merely saw an opportunity to have somepony else more effectively carry that weight. Instead, I accidentally threw you into the fire."
"I still don't see what you're getting at."
"Well, if you're willing to hear me out, let's talk about this over lunch tomorrow. I'll have a more detailed explanation then."
"I'll be there, sir."
"One more thing," he said as I was heading to the back room to take my retrieved outgoing mail. "The reason I don't call her 'Derpy' is because I remember her from back when she didn't have a broken home. She didn't get to keep her dignity but at least she was given custody of the little filly."
I stared at him for a bit as he continued staring out the window. The words he said confused me. He did say he would explain himself tomorrow so I'll hold him to it. I took what I was carrying to the back room and headed home somewhat glad that my second day didn't turn out as bad as the first. That sad face still flashes in front of my eyes reminding me of an inability to voice any response.
When I got back home, I immediately noticed the two holes in the wall from yesterday. I should plan on fixing those with some drywall patching. Again, my eyes fell upon the smiling picture of my past family. My attention was immediately drawn to my little colt. His likeness was very similar to that of Dinky. They both were always in high spirit, energetic, and happy. It is in a child's innocence that a stallion or mare can find themselves again. After all, we were all young, happy, and carefree at one time. We simply forget what it means to remain happy.
I kissed my hoof gently and placed it on the picture saying goodnight to my little colt. Maybe somewhere he is doing the same. It'll be a while before I can see him again. By then, he'll be a little older. Every visit will only reveal a growing stallion with me missing out on his life growing up. Maybe one day he'll understand that I still love him and always will. But everypony knows about what happens with long-distance relationships.
Apprehension consumed my mind at the start of the third day at the Ponyville post office. I wasn't exactly sure what the postmaster wanted to tell me but it must be important. Arriving at work, the postmaster made sure I understood that we were going to meet at a local cafe. It seemed strange that I was the pony he needed to talk with about Ditzy and that letter. More and more it seemed as though the postmaster wanted to make my work days harder. I had hardly been in this town for three days trying to escape my own problems and apparently this postmaster keeps throwing more troubles my way. What does one need to do to be allowed escape and peace of mind? If he is going to ask me to go out of my way and do something with unexpected results like on my first day, I'll refuse it with every fiber of my being.
The morning was calm and I needed that tranquility. Not being able to see my son for another three weeks puts a lot on my mind. I keep missing my family and thinking about them. That longing for a past familial bond is not easily forgotten and put wayside. I look forward to my visitation days. It is on those days that I get to see my son. Although, the hours speed by rather quickly, time spent with him is invaluable. To spend one's time in the company of loved ones makes life a bit more meaningful.
Work helps to alleviate what I assume is separation anxiety by providing other things to think about. I really like this town with its citizens. They are very accepting and my presence seems to brighten up their day as they do mine. I suppose if I'm not able to brighten my own day, maybe I can offer that chance to another pony. Helping out is its own reward. Perhaps the happiness derived from helping out others offers some strength in dealing with my own situation.
Lunch time arrived much sooner than anticipated. My mind was so focused on work and random thinking that I almost forgot to check the time. I arrived at the cafe to find the postmaster already waiting for me. He was inside the cafe close to its doors next to a window with a single chair sitting across from him. I sat down in it with a waitress coming by to take our order. We both made the purchase simple by ordering some hay fries and cider. As soon as the waitress left, the postmaster wasted no time in starting the conversation.
"I know this seems a tad awkward coming here, son," he began. "But I'm glad you could meet me today. I figure a proper explanation is in order for wrongly throwing you into an unexpected situation without asking first. Normally, I don't jump to conclusions, but trust me when I thought you could help out the most. Please accept the apologies of a foolish old stallion for ruining your first day on the job. I’ll give you a survey to fill out later on improvements and recommendations for first day postal work."
The postmaster chuckled lightly at his mistake. I didn't return the laugh but turned my gaze away momentarily hoping the conversation would be more fruitful. If this talk wasn't going anywhere, I'd rather excuse myself from the table right away. I finally offered a reply after the waitress came by with our food and drink. The hay fries and cider sat untouched on the table.
Food and drink would not be the main course of this meal.
"I'm still a little ticked from being made out to be an idiot, but I'll accept your apology, sir."
"'Made out to be an idiot'," the postmaster said almost speaking to himself. A serious expression crossed his face as he began looking out the window. "Ditzy has always been made out to be an idiot. None give her due credit anymore. Not even the one she used to love."
"You mean her husband?" I interrupted.
"Yes...her husband. He's the one that started calling her by the name, Derpy. Everypony caught onto it later on and allowed it to be an accepted practice. I'll tell you boy...life sometimes just isn't fair."
"Her husband was the first to call her Derpy? Why? Was he angry and mean-spirited?"
"No...no...not angry...not mean-spirited...just...different now." The postmaster let out a deep sigh before continuing. "He was is a loving husband and father. Sometimes we just say things we regret. It doesn’t mean we’re bad ponies; just that we have bad moments. I’m sure it is not the name that changed him, son. It could have planted a seed, but he still loves Ditzy and most notably his little filly, Dinky. He has said positive things in all his letters sent through my hoof. But something changed in those words. Over time, loving words turned into casual sentiment. Many times I reassured her that he would come back, but she probably realized something was different. I could see the concern in her eyes carefully reading each word in those mailed letters seeking comfort once held. She’d put on a smile - that same smile she always wears - but her perceptive eyes told another story, son.
Her smile...she always smiles. Well, not always like on rare occasions of sadness or dismay. Through thick and thin she expresses a candle glow bright enough to illuminate one’s own darkness. Many ponies have warmed up to her due to that warm-hearted smile. Understand, son, it takes a lot to maintain that smile while told you’re a clumsy idiot and retard. Still, those who hated her became friends...if they weren’t already her friend.”
“I’ve noticed that ridiculous smile, sir,” I said acknowledging his words. “It puts me off but, at the same time, there is a natural attraction to its positivity.”
“Positivity...”
The postmaster lightly brushed his chin with his left hoof as though in deep thought. I found it remarkable that he held this much concern for Ditzy. There were signs in his manner of speaking about her that simulated a father’s involvement.
“She’s always had a positive personality, son. Ditzy is a kind pony. In addition, she is very perceptive to when other ponies are having a bad day. In a crowd, she’d be able to find the one who felt left out whether they be a young yearling, stubborn mule, or old pony feeling isolation from a younger crowd. Invading a pony’s private life makes them defensive, son. We’re born with a natural instinct to build up walls to keep out others. In the end, this one gray-coated mare - bearing defensive insults with smiling innocence - shows us a world outside that wall.
Shall I tell you about the day she met my brother? She made him so mad that day, hahaha! It was a very busy day in the post office not unlike the day you started. There was one shipment by airmail, important enough that I wanted my brother to go along to make sure it was properly delivered. Halfway through the delivery, a gray-coated mare approached him and his delivery companions saying they had left behind an item at the post office. They were sure that this wasn’t the case but, before they could stop her, this gray-coated mare insisted that she’d just toss it back into the air transportation vehicle. However, a few items in cargo shifted their position with the added additional weight enough to make a few items fall out the back of the vehicle and onto a purple unicorn’s head. He was absolutely livid in cleaning up the mess and having to make sure my delivery didn’t seriously harm the unicorn below. Thank goodness the unicorn survived a falling piano, but that didn’t stop my brother from exercising expressed anger hahaha.”
“A piano?”
“Yes, son, a baby grand piano.”
“The responsibility of rectifying that mess would be daunting both in medical treatment and property damage.”
“You’re right on that one, son. It was a huge mess to cleanup. Regrettably, my brother began hating Ditzy and had many choice words to share. However, she beared these insults and tried everyday to make amends. He had even slapped a muffin out of her hoof at one time in feeling bitter resentment towards her. She would frown momentarily only to come up with another idea to make him feel better. My brother began patronizing her to make himself feel better. I didn’t like it one bit but Ditzy insisted that it was all right due to how much she had upset him. She said he’d come around eventually - and he did. One day, with his hat held in his hooves, he apologized about everything he had said and done to her. The guilt had weighed heavily on his conscience desperately needing reconciliation. Ditzy accepted this turn of events with a bright smile and open hooves. She was never angry or bitter at him. She could perceive that he’d come around eventually on his own. It is a truly remarkable talent, son.”
Listening to the postmaster speak about Ditzy made me realize I had severely underestimated the breadth of her mannerisms. Ditzy’s actions had a direction and purpose I was slowly able to piece together. Hidden behind that smile beheld a beauty and strength that few possessed. Her appearance consists of fragile physical features, but her spirit carried indomitable positivity guided with simple purpose in haphazardly helping others.
A few minutes passed with the postmaster mindlessly looking out the window and me dwelling on thoughts about Ditzy. Suddenly, I remembered the letter that had her broken down in tears.
“Sir, can you tell me about Ditzy’s husband? I want to know why the letter affected her so badly, though I can guess the reason. I just need to hear it from your mouth.”
“Yes...Ditzy’s husband. Back in her young days, Ditzy’s toy had broken while playing in a sandbox. The teacher led her to a private place for comfort and a young unicorn colt picked up that broken toy. Before even knowing what magic was he managed to fix the toy with his horn. It was an act of kindness that would come back tenfold due to the pony who was helped. Later on, he found Ditzy sitting by a river with a sullen expression on her face. When given her newly fixed toy, she became overjoyed that somepony cared about her. Most others avoided her for the sole reason of looking and acting like an idiot."
"How do you know all this? Did Ditzy tell you?" I asked curious on how he would know about Ditzy's young life.
"Two versions of the story were told to me - one from Ditzy and the other from her husband. Both versions of the story matched from my point of view so I accepted them as fact. See, I've known that family for the longest time. You could say I'm a family friend. That's what makes a small town special in that neighbors know neighbors.
Anyways, Ditzy and the young unicorn colt went their separate ways to grow up and mature. They often sent letters to keep in touch. They both considered the letters to be more than pieces of paper. It was more like hearing 'news' from a close one. Ditzy always thought sending and receiving letters was the best thing. It is one of the reasons why she chose to be a mailmare.
The letters continued for many years and the two became very close. Who knew that a long-distance relationship could work out? There came a day when a package came for Ditzy whereas only a letter was expected. It didn't have a sender's or return address causing Ditzy to curiously open it. Inside was a similar-looking toy to what she had when she was younger and a single note. I've come back home and I'm waiting at the local bakery. See you there, my friend, it said.
Muffins. Ha. Who knew love could blossom from a date with muffins. The two greatly enjoyed each other's company in that bakery. Now that the young colt - now a stallion - came back, much more time was spent together. Long story short that is why Ditzy has a young filly. That filly is such a cutie, isn't she?"
I couldn't help but nod my head in agreement. Turning an eye to me the postmaster saw this acknowledgement.
"So, did something happen between the two?" I asked now rather curious to the story. The postmaster returned his gaze to the world outside the window.
"Something happened, all right. I'm not sure if I'll ever know for sure, son, but something definitely happened. Worst part is that the young filly is caught in between. This is certainly going to affect the rest of her life seeing her parents separate."
"Separation? So...that's what the letter was about?"
"Yes, if one single word would suffice then that is the one. I'm sure you know the weight that word carries."
"Yes...I do," I said lowering my eyes to the table before me.
"Tell me, son. How did it happen?"
"We just...drifted apart. No fights. No real conflicts. The lesson I learned is that sometimes loved ones just don't feel close to one another anymore. Sometimes love just ain't enough. We just...fell out of love and drifted apart."
"Fell out of love and drifted apart..." the postmaster once again said this almost as if speaking to himself. "That is such an irony."
"What is an irony?" I asked looking at the postmaster again.
"Ditzy's husband. He could fix anything. He fixed her toy when they were young, built up a nice family life, but couldn't repair a broken home. Thinking back on it, perhaps that is why he applied for contractor work that required travel; he was seeking to distance himself from Ditzy."
"So, how did he end up calling her by the name Derpy?"
"Oh, that. Ditzy always had a clumsy nature. You can say she is accident-prone. Among her many accidents, Ditzy would often break something that afterward needed fixing. This is when her husband would step in to clean up her messes. He had a talent for fixing anything be it household furniture, plumbing, transportation vehicles...you name it, he can fix it. That is what I always assumed, of course. Now I know that is not always the case.
Many times Ditzy would anger other ponies with her clumsiness. Clumsy idiot and retard were among the most referred to insults to justify property damage or frustrated outbursts. In a means to cheer her up, Ditzy's husband called her Derpy from time to time. The name had a nice ring to it and strangely lightened a sour mood. The name became commonplace with many referring to her by that name. I don't call her by that name because it is nothing but an insult. Anytime I bring it to her attention, she disregards the concern and says that the name doesn't define her. She is right as her worth can't be measured by a simple label. That might be something we can all learn from her."
"So, the name's intention was misused and he didn't mean to harm her by it...interesting. Her husband doesn't seem like he was ever mad at her and yet they separated," I said out loud trying to wrap my head around their separation.
"Yes, they are still separating. Like I said before, her husband applied for contractor work that required travel. Now that I think about it the two had spent less time together prior to this event. For a time, they started to send letters back and forth to keep in touch. Ditzy wanted to be the first to know when letters from her husband arrived so she took a job at the post office. I always found it odd that the more serious letters came through me. Maybe her husband didn't have the nerve to hurt her feelings directly but needed a buffer. This is why that letter I gave you was in my hoof. I read it over and over not sure how to break the news to Ditzy that her husband was filing for divorce and had already found another super special somepony in his life. I suppose I should be relieved that custody of Dinky was given to Ditzy, but that is like saying an open wound is healed by not pouring salt on it.
I was frantic for a solution in delivering that news. This is why when you mentioned your wife and son, I thought maybe you would know what to do. You can say that I was simply scared. That is most likely true. However, I still firmly believe that your support in her time of need would greatly benefit each other. When you first arrived at the post office, I pointed out that 'news' needs to be delivered by a trusted hoof. Who better to deliver devastating news than one with a similar experience? If you will remember back to that day, I was not able to console her any better than you could. I, myself, was on the verge of tears in seeing her cry."
The postmaster finally broke his gaze from the window to give me his full attention.
"Son, Ditzy's husband is coming by the post office tomorrow to pick up Dinky for a two-week visit. The separation from not only her husband but daughter too - even if temporary - is going to devastate her. I am pleading with you. Let your shoulder be one she can lean on. You complained about me disregarding your prior experience, but listen to my words carefully. No matter what happens in our lives, help somepony else out in their time of need so that you both can find the strength to face life's worse hardships. Remember that even our princess, whom raises your morning sun, relies on her sister and the citizens of this land for due strength knowing that little can be gained in being alone."
[/hr]
Coming home, I went straight to bed not looking at the two holes in the wall or my family's photo. The story told by the postmaster was one I'd have to mull over for a while. I wasn't ready to jump into another pony's problems just yet. However, that look on Ditzy's face on my first day made it clear she needed reassurance and comfort that everything was going to be fine. All I could think about is the pain that both my son and Dinky must endure in having their parent's separate. To have Ditzy fall to pieces would only worsen this divorce for her child. A parent is, after all, a pillar of strength in a child's eyes. She is a strong mare and I'm sure she only needs a little boost in confidence. At minimum, I can provide that.
Dozing off to sleep I now understood that the postmaster was only trying to help a friend in need albeit his actions were foolhardy. Nonetheless, his intentions are well-meant and honorable.
I should had given the postmaster more due respect.
The next day I awoke with renewed purpose. The postmaster's words still rang true in my ears that support was key to carrying the burden of hardship. Ditzy's situation was much like mine. I'd be a fool not to see that at this point. Nopony was there to comfort me when my wife and son left. I'm sure not going to witness that happen to another without at least trying to do something. It is bad enough to have bad life experiences happen to yourself, but it is an entirely new experience to observe a similar event happening to somepony else.
I was going to take today easy at work and play the whole day by ear. If all seemed to work out fine on its own, I would not be needed. However, if I felt like my support was needed, I would most certainly be there. Ditzy never wronged, hurt, or insulted me. Her clumsy nature was not an issue in my eyes. We all have faults or particular traits that make us look bad. To not accept somepony based on little things like appearance or personality is wrong on many levels. There is enough space in the lands of Equestria to avoid those we don't agree with whether it be idealistic pursuits, way of thinking, or daily activities. If somepony is not a harm to society or themselves, I see no reason to be aggressive towards them. I saw nothing wrong with Ditzy. In fact, her awkward smile makes me cringe and happy at the same time. Nopony deserves to be thrown into the gutter without a helping hoof extended to provide relief.
If her day went sour, I had a neat backup plan. It was something that was sure to cheer her up. All I needed was one simple item bought from the local store. It was a rather commonplace product that wasn't too hard to find. The product also took into account her personality as a whole which made me even more proud to have it in my possession. Ah, I remember when my son had one of these. We used to spend hours on end playing with it. My little colt and I used to smile so much on those days having fun in each other's company.
Realizing that I needed to get to work, I put the product into my side pack. I ran to the front door catching sight of something that stopped me dead in my tracks - my family’s photo. That photo was a constant reminder of a time never to return. The smiling faces reassured me that I’d be alone. Then again, I’m not truly alone am I? For it is in destitute solitary despair that the lonely ironically find one another. I knew at once that taking the photo with me would be just what the doctor ordered. I decided to grab the photo of my family so that Ditzy would know she is not alone.
[/hr]
Excitement filled me up by the time I reached the post office. This was the first time in years I had a purposeful mindset set on a goal and not many hours of work. I could let the distraction of work slide until the day was over now that a personal goal was on my mind. The good feelings continued throughout the day. They were exhibited in my social interaction with the town's citizens. Even that shopkeeper of the clothing boutique asked me why I was so chipper. But I held a hoof to my mouth to keep it a secret. It felt like one of those times when an amazing prank was about to be pulled. Everyone in on the gag would feel nothing but suspense until the surprise came about.
Admittedly, this town had an effect on my behavior and personality. When I came to this place, I felt down and out. The positive attitude of the ponies of whom I deliver mail to provided a stress-free environment with which to relieve a weary mind. This collective social community interaction only validated the postmaster's words that being here would be different than the city. Either that or I'm just imagining things due to the excitement over my simple backup plan.
[/hr]
Having collected the day's outgoing mail, I returned back to the post office. When I turned the corner onto its street, I noticed a group of ponies standing outside the front of the building. I felt nervous and stopped walking towards them to witness the event from afar. The scene was all too familiar to a past memory long ago in the city I left. The eerie scene resembled much of what happened to me.
Ditzy and Dinky were immediately recognized with Ditzy doing most of the talking to two ponies standing opposite them. These two ponies stood quite close next to each other, one a brown-coated unicorn stallion and a creme-colored unicorn mare. Both ponies said nothing as Ditzy continued talking with them while Dinky had her head bent down to the ground.
Ditzy didn't seem mad but had that bright smile on her face. However, her right foreleg kept rubbing her left as though she was nervous. Thinking about it I noticed that the creme-colored unicorn mare had a clean and well-groomed coat looking quite beautiful. Then, I realized that this might be something making Ditzy nervous. I had felt the same thing in seeing the stallion who stood by my wife. His countenance and muscular build were intimidating in comparing mine. I could never hope to compete with the sleek look of his coat. His long flowing mane rested perfectly to the side of his neck. The smile he had shown me exhibited pure kindness matched only in the pristine whiteness of those finely-rowed teeth. I should had been happy for my wife knowing that separation was inevitable, but something felt off about seeing that stallion. The meeting made me slightly defensive.
I was not comfortable in knowing with which perfect stud I was to be replaced.
Worse yet, I remember that same look on my son's face with his head also bent down to the ground. He was my son only to be given away to a complete stranger meant to replace my role in the family. The real problem in that situation is that nothing can be said. Any spoken words will only cut deeper when all is said and done. The more I saw Ditzy talking, I knew she was trying her best to find a way out of the divorce. With a smile on her face meant to cover the oncoming sadness she couldn't get a response out of her husband. He was dead set on having the divorce finalized. No amount of words would change that feeling.
Instead, he kneeled down to talk with his daughter. She was the reason he had come back, after all. In the many years following this event, this little filly would be fought over in a tug of war match between both parents like some prized animal. The daughter would never know what it is like to have both parents living together. Nay, now she'd only be experiencing life with one or the other. From the distance where I stood, I could clearly see the little filly dropping a few tears as her father tried his best to explain the situation. It is one of those talks that will most surely haunt her the rest of her life. It is a talk that no colt or filly would ever want to hear in their worst nightmares.
Ditzy's husband tried the next best thing as he didn't want to see his little filly sad. He introduced the filly to her new step mother who smiled warmly. Dinky wasn't paying attention because this is obviously not what she wanted. However, parents make choices that little colts and fillies can only accept. Some try to run away as a means of defiance but soon find that the act has little impact other than to cause both parents worry. In the end, the parents will still separate. Like I said before, any spoken words will only make the inevitable that much worse. Some actions can be perceived as voicing one's own opinion. The act of running away is like a yearling screaming 'No!' wanting to get their way only be silenced with 'Yes' carved into stone. Returning home, a runaway yearling will still find they now live in a broken home. The creme-colored unicorn mare kneeled down next to her new husband trying to let the little filly know she was going to be a good mother.
Dinky tried to hide behind her mother only to be forced into a greeting by Ditzy. It is the hardest thing in the world for a parent to give up their child. I spent the better half of my life providing shelter for my son. On the day my wife presented her new husband, my act of handing my little colt over to this stranger felt like a knife slicing cleanly through the heart. Dinky had no other option than to enter her father's embrace with some words mentioned by the new mom.
Having gotten what they came for, the two ponies made quick talk with intentions of making an immediate leave. Ditzy began talking again so as to drag out the one-way exchange in a futile attempt to avoid the oncoming heartache. I tried the same tactic when talking to my wife and her new husband. Talking endlessly I tried to keep my son within view to know he'd still be with me. I knew by the day's end, he would be out of my reach. That evening I would have supper alone. That night I'd have nothing to tuck into bed. I knew it was coming but couldn't let it happen.
Still, I ran out of words to say as they got caught in my throat as what happens when one who is emotionally upset tries to speak. This is the moment when my wife said she would talk to me later and I was forced to witness the worst part of the one-way exchange - watching my son leave. Looking behind as he followed his mother, sadness was written all over his face. He knew that he would not be seeing his father for a while. I didn't want my son's last memory of his father to be a sad one so I faked the hardest smile of my life until he was out of sight.
I knew the right moment came when Ditzy struggled to form words on her lips. Ditzy's husband spoke at this precise moment saying a few short words, turning around, and heading off with his new wife and little filly. Dinky followed behind her father looking back to see a smile cross her mother's lips. Ditzy even went so far as to wave one hoof as a send off gesture. The three ponies, on the opposite side of the street I was on, continued on with Dinky returning her gaze forward. As soon as the three were out of sight, Ditzy burst out crying and fell to the ground.
I stood still at my spot not flinching or moving a muscle. It was surreal to witness what happened to me from a different point of view. I had left the city to forget what the separation from my wife and son felt like but I had to relive it again. The excitement of my backup plan from this morning was long gone. I wasn't sure if it was going to work. I took a moment to close my eyes and breathe in the afternoon air.
Distraction and Confidence. That's the only thing that is going to work, I thought reassuring myself that the backup plan would work. Providing a distraction will draw the mind away from its emotional state. Once things calm down, a clearer mind will be able to handle the situation. Building confidence will help make this transition in life much easier. Dinky still needs the support of both her parents. A nervous breakdown would only shatter the little filly's attempts at continued happiness in needing to know her parents still love and support her.
Having calmed myself down from reliving that torturous moment, I walked towards Ditzy hoping what I had to offer would provide some consolation. It wasn't much but maybe it would be enough. She was a strong mare and would most likely be able to deal with these change of events much better than I could. Ditzy was still crying on the ground as I approached. She didn't look up or seem to hear my walking towards her.
I sat down next to her taking a single photo out of my side bag. It was something I had decided to carry along today for I wanted to let Ditzy know she wasn't alone. It took a few minutes but she stopped crying long enough to see that I was presenting her something. She looked at it with sorrowful eyes glancing at each smiling face. Unsure on what to say, she looked up at me for clues on why I was showing her this picture. Finally, a few words came out of her mouth.
"I-Is this your family, mister?"
"Used to be my family, Ditzy. To be honest, I just don't know what went wrong, either."
Ditzy continued to stare at my family's photo I had handed to her. I let her know that I needed to drop off my collected outgoing mail at the post office with a means of quickly coming back. She didn't say anything but rather continued to look at each smiling face in that photo. I took this opportunity to get the mail off my back and entered the post office. The post master had been standing at the window watching the whole ordeal. When he saw me come in, he opened his mouth to speak but I held a hoof out in front of me to request silence. I quickly dropped off the mail in the back room to be sorted and hurried outside so Ditzy would not be alone in the street's dirt.
"You all look so happy, mister," she said noticing my return but still looking at the photo.
"Yes, we were a happy family," I replied.
She sniffled a few times with accompanying hiccups trying to compose herself before speaking again.
"...What happened?" she finally said after stopping the hiccups.
"I'm still trying to figure that one out, Ditzy. Sometimes these things happen and we must find strength in dealing with it."
"Easy for you to say, mister," she said glumly with a most depressing frown forming on her lips.
"Hard to do, I know. What about your daughter? Did you not see how sad she was about this happening?"
"Of course I did! I know my daughter better than anypony! She's probably crying right now!"
"She's with her father. Doesn't that count for something? He'll take care of her as he doesn't seem like a bad father. Unless I'm missing something. Do you still love and trust him to care for your daughter?"
"Yes...he'll most surely take good care of her."
"And you'll get to see her in due time, right?"
"In two weeks, yeah."
"Would it be right for a yearling to return and see her mother emotionally distraught? How do you think that would make her feel?"
"She'd probably cry again because mommy's crying."
I grabbed Ditzy from the front lifting her to her feet. Lacking inner strength at the moment, she certainly didn't want to be standing. I had to use much of my strength in getting her to stand on her own four hooves.
"The...first thing I learned...when my son was taken from me," I said while forcing her up, "was that...a yearling needs...both of their parents to...stand...strong. There we go! You're kind of heavy!"
Ditzy, now standing on her own four hooves, shot me an angry look as I quickly realized that the last few words were offending.
"...Sorry, I didn't mean heavy like-"
"-Like what?" she said glaring at me.
"Like a heavyset muffin," I said speaking before thinking displaying a curt smile.
I couldn't tell if she was getting angrier for she continued staring at me with a hardened look. It took a few moments but the stare broke with a few giggles escaping her lips. Soon she was laughing out loud to my relief. It is never wise to insult a mare's weight. When the laughter died down, I continued talking with her.
"Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Ditzy?"
"Yes, mister. Thank you! I'll be a stronger pony for my little filly."
"There is something else I'd like to show you if you'd grant me the honor of escorting you home, my fair muffin mare," I said trying to lighten the mood as much as possible.
"Sure, mister," she said smiling with that all-too-familiar bright smile. "My house isn't too far from here."
[/hr]
On the way to her house, I striked up a conversation with a means to an end.
"Hey, Ditzy. Can I ask you something?"
"Yes, as long as it isn't about my weight!"
"No, not your weight. My question is directed at your cutie mark. Why is your cutie mark, bubbles?"
"Gee, I've never known why. Many ponies ask the same question and I don't have an answer. I got it when I was still a young filly playing with my toys. It came at the time when I first laid eyes on another crying filly. After cheering up this other saddened filly, my cutie mark appeared. I asked the postmaster about it but what he said was a bit silly."
"What did he say about it?" I asked with curiosity.
"That it meant I had a 'Bubbly' personality."
We both laughed to ourselves at the corniness of that observation.
"Well, today's your lucky day, Ditzy. I'm going to tell you exactly what you're cutie mark means. I've been around you long enough to understand a little something about it. Of course, only if you're willing to hear me out."
"Yes, I'd love that very much, mister! Can you please call me Derpy, though. The name, Ditzy, feels a bit strange."
"...I understand. I'll try but no guarantees as I still only know that word as an insult. I know it is who you are and doesn't define you, but it will take some time to get used that name. To be fair, you don't call me by my name, either."
Ditzy blushed in embarrassment but I knew that she really took a liking to calling me 'mister'.
[/hr]
We arrived at Ditzy's Derpy's house and she seemed in higher spirits after what had occurred. Checking my side bag, I made sure the product was still in there. I didn't take it out just yet as I wanted a proper explanation to be said beforehand.
"So, what does my cutie mark mean, mister?"
"Well, most things in this life are about perspective and balance. There are many varying opinions and views that could clog all of Equestria, itself. It is a lot to take in if one were to try their hoof at it. However, for some ponies these opinions and views are forcibly given - without cause, without reason. Think of this forcible exchange as one wholly containing all kinds of discrimination. It would take a strong pony to endure all that.
I'm talking about you, Derpy. Many ponies refer to you by slanderous and defaming words. On top of that, you were given an insult as a name by the one who loved you most. But your perception is that you're okay with that. You're okay with taking the infliction brought on by others. Why do you think it happens this way?"
Derpy thought about it for a moment.
"Maybe because I have been hurt so much, I don't want to see another pony feel the same pain."
"Especially you daughter?"
She nodded enthusiastically.
"That's the balance; not wanting to inflict the same pain brought onto you but rather helping where possible. Derpy, what I have in my side bag is a simple product that little colts and fillies play with as a hobby. In the use of such a simple object, these young yearlings can see something that most mares and stallions cannot. My hunch is that if I use this product in front of you, you'll be able to see something not seen by others."
I reached into my side bag to take out the product. Derpy recognized it immediately as a bubble blowing toy.
"I used to play with one these when I was younger, mister. But I don't see what this has to do with my cutie mark."
"Well," I began, "there is a little known phenomenon relating to various objects and surfaces called, Iridescence. Particularly seen with soap bubbles there are changes in hue that occur depending on the angle with which these bubbles are viewed."
"That one funny pony with his blue box who spoke about many things told me about that word. He left but that is one of the things I remember most," she interrupted with a passing thought.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Hopefully, he'll come back in due time. You can send him letters as I hope you do with your little filly."
"I would...but mail wouldn't reach him. But 'time' is on his side."
I stopped to think about what she said because, unless this pony was outside the lands of Equestria, mail would surely reach him. I brushed off the thought as Derpy still needed to know an important fact about herself.
"Well, that pony is entirely right. The importance of this phenomenon is the change in hue depending on how the bubble is viewed. Understand that the vivid detail of color viewed by one's sight decreases as they grow older. This is why bubbles are more enjoyable by a young yearling rather than a grown pony. Derpy, you're older than a young yearling and have one lazy eye. However, I'm absolutely positive that you'll be able to still see those colors. In fact, you'll be able to see something not perceived by any other pony. Watch each bubble closely and remember what I tell you."
I unscrewed and took off the cap from the toy letting it fall to the ground. Derpy watched as I dipped the blowing wand into the soapy liquid, raising it to my lips, and blowing with enough force to produce a flurry of bubbles floating in the air. As expected, Derpy's eyes widened as she witnessed every change in color paying careful attention to one single bubble before switching to the next. A glimmer appeared in those eyes that told a tale of unparalleled interest, amusement, and understanding. By the time the third bubble passed by her enlarged eyes, slight traces of a hinted smile formed on those lips. Her expression displayed an immense level of understanding in the sight before her that not even I would be able to perceive with my own eyes.
"What you see before you Ditzy Derpy is more than changes in color. You are able to witness the change occurring within the bubble. Take into account that all ponies live in our own bubbles. We have events and changes occurring every second of everyday whose results are expressed like those changes in color. There is also the unexpected inevitability of having that bubble pop once it hits the ground. This means a major development came about that brought one outside the limited view of that bubble. Your kindness and positivity, Derpy, affects the pony existing in that bubble more so when it is popped and they see you in full view. You can perceive their troubles trying to offer any recourse to regain happiness, comfort, and confidence. Undoubtedly, on all ponies your positivity has a lasting impression. Also, in being a constant scapegoat, you interact with each pony in their bubble providing an outlet for some that releases pent up frustration, despair, or loneliness. This outlet - provided at your expense - enables a change in their color to happier hues. That ability to perceive and help others in their own solitary bubble is what your cutie mark means.
However, you cannot be the scapegoat forever, Derpy. Right now you're experiencing trouble like we all find ourselves in one day. Believe it or not, those you are seeing inside the bubbles are ready and willing to offer support. They know what it is like to be trapped, hurt, and alone. Do you see this one?"
Derpy followed the end of my hoof and focused on the single bubble held in place with eyes full of childhood wonder.
"This particular bubble is wanting to say something to the one now in urgent need of help. It is saying, Nopony should have to feel alone. Nopony should have to carry the weight of life's hardships solely on their own shoulders. We're always here for you, Derpy. Do not cry. Let us lend the strength for your continued happiness with a blessed little unicorn filly named, Dinky. For that little filly beholds just as much beauty and strength as her mother. Hold these words close to your heart: Know you're not alone. Know that we'll always be here for you."
I raised my hoof to point to myself.
"And know that I'll always be here for you."
Her wondrous gaze carved a path to my eyes and, before I could react, she leapt forward to give me a very tight hug.
"Thank you so very much!"
Returning the hug, I felt a few tears coming to my eyes.
"No more need to be alone. We'll both be here for each other. Despite what happens in our lives - in our own bubble - or who we are, nopony deserves to face hardship abandoned and alone."
