Prologue: Dead on Arrival
Rolling Start
I look behind me to my bobblehead. It's not exactly what I would call a priceless heirloom, especially since I know it cost me five bits from my local pizzeria, but I do love it. There’s something about it that always makes me happy. Maybe it's because it's my personal decoration for my coach that separates it from the other taxis. Perhaps it’s the character of the bobblehead. It does look pretty funny; this small, obese chef smiling like a maniac as he looks towards the words ‘The Mozzarella Scatter’ on the pizza box he is holding. Maybe it's just because the little guy's smiling.
A smiling face...
These days, it's hard to see one of those in Manehattan.
I swear Manehattan has gotten worse since I was a kid. Maybe I was a bit more blinded to the troubles of my city back then, but those days can't be worse than they are today, yet alone just as bad. Somepony got stabbed in the apartment building I'm living in last night, for crying out loud. Apparently, the poor colt pissed off someone from the Tequilas, a very vicious cycle gang that originally established in Mexicolt, or that's what the cop at the victim's apartment door said when I asked about it that morning. So the Tequila gang member did what a Tequila gang member does best: grab a knife, kick down the guy's door and stab the pony that made him mad. Got him right in his heart according to the cop on the scene. Poor sap didn't have a chance.
I definitely don't remember cycle gang-related stabbings when I was a colt. Then again, back in my day I don't remember anything involving the Tequila gang. They do seem to be a new development.
Newer than the Ramune Yakuza, at least. I know for a fact they were around since I was eighteen. I was right there in the restaurant when the establishment became Sumo Strap's first 'business partner'. I still don't get why a bunch of Neighponese guys aimed at a Neighjing Town dumpling house. Not like I was willing to ask them about it at the time, of course; I was too busy getting the hell out of there before Jade Necklace decided to shove the owner's face into a hot oven. I wonder how he's doing since then? It's been awhile since I went there... and who can blame me, really?
Now that I think about it, there was one crime gang I know was around when I was young: The Cino Family. I can remember when I was a little colt on my papa's knee and him telling me "Rolling, try and be nice to that Cino girl. Her daddy is a very powerful man. A powerful man that does bad things to pony's kneecaps."
I was in the 'girls have cooties' phase at the time, you see, and the little mob boss' daughter for some reason beyond my understanding went into me and my friends' neighbourhood wanting to play some Baseball on the street with us. I didn't like the fact I was playing with a girl, but for my dad's sake I played with Cappuccino's little princess, anyway. I got to say, Babyccino really knew how to use a bat... and something tells me she still does for all the wrong reasons. Definitely her daddy's girl, not a question about it.
Anyway, enough of this silver and lead crap. Back to work.
I turn to look back to the docks, waiting for the latest boat to come in. This is pretty much my job. Wait for a boat to come in, and they give me money to take them where they want to go in the city. Usually, it's folks coming back from vacation. A lot of those folks do get a little sad by the fact they have to come back to this city. Some go to Canterlot, some go to Fillydelphia... But the ponies I pick up with the saddest of faces?
The ones who go to The Ohana Islands for a holiday.
Not that the Ohana Islands is a bad place. From what I heard, far from it. Whenever I hear anypony talk about the place, it's how much fun they had and how not like Manehattan it is over there. How bright it is, how time seems to stay and pass them at the same time, how swell the princess' sun looks in the clear blue sky, how everything looks beautiful and how everypony's smiling... I bet it's kinda sad returning back here for the status quo after all the fun times they had. I've seen enough holiday withdrawals from folks in the back seat of my coach, I think it’s scaring me off going there. Not like the price of the ferry wasn't capable enough to do that already. Hoo boy.
However, at this particular moment with me looking at the docks, something I couldn't believe happened just... did. I didn't see the ferry come in, or any boat for that matter. Well, it depends on what you believe a boat is. In my personal opinion, an inflatable raft looking like an orange giraffe with all his spots gone is not a boat. Especially one that should be on a dock. Yet there it was. Parked on the dock. This little, orange balloon... thing.
So, yeah. I’m staring at this thing. How could I have not? Somepony came to the city in that; from the goddess-damn ocean, no less! "Who in the right bucking mind would do such a stupid thing?" I ask myself.
I got the answer to that question.
"She's a beaut, ain't she?" I heard someone say somewhere out of my sight. "A few folks back home in the Ohana Islands lent it to me."
It took me a while to realise this voice is talking to me. I turn my head around to see this maniac. And there’s this guy. This young, yellow and slightly short pegasus with long green hair and a shirt with a bunch of flowers on it, looking at me. Looking at me and smiling.
It's pretty clear he's not from around here. In fact, it’s pretty clear that he’s from Ohana Islands. The shirt gave it away a little. The smile gave it away a lot.
I pointed at his raft. "You... came all the way from the Ohana Islands in that?"
"Yeah! And a smooth ride, too." He says, still grinning. "I keep hearing from Manehattenites that the ferry's a little bumpy. Saves me a load of bits, too!"
Him admitting that he did this like it was no big deal makes my mouth drop. I just couldn't believe how he can't see the problems I see about going out on the ocean on something akin to a goddess-damn kid's toy!
“Is… is this a taxi?” The Ohanian asks. He probably doesn’t have one of these where he’s from. The Islands are pretty small and close together. I heard all they got for transportation is boats.
“Yeah.” I say… wonder… “You want a ride?”
“Yeah!” He shouts, smiling even more, pointing somewhere out my view. “How much for me, my hoa pili and our load over there?”
“Hoa…?”
“Oh! Sorry, man. My mind’s still back home. Hoa pili. It means friend.”
Ah. I should’ve called that… er… ‘how’s-ya-pee-leak’ meant friend. I look to where this guy was pointing and I see quite a big camping bag. Only the one, which is strange considering he sounds like he’s with somepony, but it is quite an overstuffed bag. It looks pretty full, especially since it’s got two hammocks strapped to it. Don’t know how he and whoever he is with is going to find anywhere that’ll put them up. Only got one water bottle in one of the two bottle holders, though. Must be a very close friend or…
Hold the fuck up. Is that…? Yep. That’s definitely it. I recognise that shape on my old stallion’s fireplace.
The other bottle holder pocket’s got an urn in it.
I turn back to the Ohanian. “Is your… is that urn the number two passenger, there?”
“Sure is.” He says, looking at the small, ceramic jar. “Taking my good friend Coconut Shy here to his niece. Always says a lot about her. Bit of a world-saver. Runs her own animal care center.”
Aw… sounds like this might be a charity run. It’s rare for me to do that, but this pegasus and his story got me so that me taking money from him is going to be morally difficult. “You know what? On the house.”
“Awesome! Thanks, man!” He says, moving to his bag to pick it up. “Oh! Uh… The name’s Pineapple Rice. What’s your’s?”
“Rolling Start.” Wow, a lot of rarities happening with this one. Not a lot of ponies ask for a name. “So… Where’s this niece?”
“Ponyville.”
…
“Okay, we might have some problems there.” I say to him bluntly. Yeah, charity can only go so far. No way in bucking Tartarus am I going all the way to Ponyville, not even if Celestia’s in that urn of his. “I can only go in the city.”
“Nah nah, is cool. We got some sightseeing to do here first.” He calmly shouts. “We’re on Ohana time, Rolling. All the time in the world. On my pace and my pace only. We’ll find our way to Ponyville from here.”
Ohana time, huh? Okay.
“Alright then.” I say, nodding. “So where to instead?”
“Centrail Park, man. Don’t spare the...uh… you.” He pushes the bag and then him in my cab. “You don’t mind if I pull out my uke? I haven’t practised at all yet today.”
I turn around to see the pony already in his bag, pulling out some small guitar. Strike another rarity off the list; a musician in the back.
“Sure. But if I find it a little too distracting, you might need to stop. Manehattan traffic is something that needs a lot of focus.” I say, turning round. And that’s especially true near Centrail Park. Yikes.
“I hear ya.” He says as he does a quick strum. I hear him pluck a string and adjust it. “Just give me a moment. Queen Formosa’s always a little off in the morning.”
I stay focused focused on the road as he repeatedly plucks all the strings and adjusts them to what he needs. This pegasus must take pride on his… er… uke.
“Okay…” I hear him behind me. “One and a two and a three…”
He strums out a few chords out. A little, slow song to start things up.
“E ku`u ipo o ke aumoe
Auhea la `oe e maliu mai
I neia leo a ke aloha
He ho`oheno keia nou wale no...”
I was going to turn around and tell him not to sing. Not like he was a bad singer, of course, but like I said; I’m working here. Gotta be concentrating. However, it was all too late. I was already in this song. I can feel the rhythm, the movement, the sand underneath my hooves, the sea wind blowing gently off my face, the taste of probably overpriced cocktail at the back of my throat, the humidity making drips from my muzzle. Oh sweet Celestia. How? How am I in the Ohana Islands and in Manehattan at the same time? That’s Impossible! Impossible!
There is only one conclusion to this. This guy is good.
“...Ha`ina `ia mai ana ka puana
E ku`u ipo o ke aumoe
Auhea la `oe e maliu mai
He ho`oheno keia nou wale no.”
He ends. the song was over. I had to stop as reality smacks back in like harsh whiplash. “You okay, Rolling? You look like you were distracted there.”
“I… I… yeah.” I had to confess. “Sorry, that song was just too good. How’d you learn to play like that?”
“It’s what I do, haole, it’s what I do.” He chuckles. “Since I first picked up this ukulele and played it, I’ve been entertaining many a folk. Make ‘em relaxed. Do you want another?”
…
“Yeah. Please.” I know I shouldn’t, but this is probably the closes thing I’ll ever get to a tropical holiday. I might as well milk it.
“Alright. But be easy with the breaks, okay Rolling?” He laughs. “Sudden stops like that can’t be good for a pony..”
“Well,” I sigh, knowing that the fun’s going to be over soon. “Here we are. Centrail Park.”
I move to a parking area as he looks around. I don’t really see why this place is considered much of a place to go to be honest. It’s not much to look at. It’s… a park. They’re plenty of better ones where he’s from, surely. One with the kind of trees and flowers that would be considered something to come and see. All we got here is trees and statues and maybe some flowers if they’re in season, but even then it’s all roses. He seems to be quite thrilled, though. Maybe there’s something I’m missing.
“Wow… so this is city-style flora.” He gasps. “Everything’s so neatly organised here; that’s awesome. Ours is just everywhere! We’re lucky to get a pathway down!”
I couldn’t help to giggle. I suppose he’s right. Wait...
“So, what about your bag? You’re not dropping it off at a hotel?”
“Nah.” Says the pegasus, getting off. “Never been a big fan of sleeping indoors. I can already see two trees that’ll be perfect for a hammock right there, anyway.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Pineapple.” I suggest. “Some suspicious folks head to the park at night. You don’t want them stealing your stuff, do you?”
“Then they can have whatever they like.”
“What? You’re just going to give your stuff to them?”
...
He puts a hoof on my shoulder.
“Rolling, here’s something I’ve learnt the day I was born.” He leans in to whisper in my ear. “`A`ohe lokomaika`i i nele i ke pâna`i.”
“What does that mean?” I had to ask.
“No kind deed has ever lacked its reward.” He says, patting the shoulder. “Mahalo and Aloha, man. Hope you like your tip.”
Huh? What…?
Oh…
Heh. Heheheheh...
I look behind me to see two bobbleheads. One I know where I got it from, my favourite pizza plaza, and the other…
A little hula filly.
“Oh man, really? You didn’t need to…”
He’s gone. Well, I figured one of the things he said was goodbye. I better get back to the docks. The real ferry will be coming soon.
I take another look at the park he’s walked to. This was quite a happy experience, but I can’t help but to shake the feeling…
… that Pineapple Rice is going to die.