The Errand Itself
Aloe watched Bulk’s biceps bulge as he raised the wooden tub off the floor.
“Remember to empty it downhill,” Lotus said, putting aside a book of old rhymes.
Bulk nodded, and strode through the wall holding the tub. He wondered how the ponies managed to refill it before his employ. A removal service? Many hooves?
“We’re going to save on chlorine big time, Aloe.”
Bulk left the front garden. As his vision was filled with the wooden planks of the tub, save for a sliver of sky if he strained his neck, he would have to navigate this voyage by ear. However, the morning’s gym session and its accompanying power-music had left him with a possibly permanent ringing sound, but at least he was in top physical shape.
Walking at a steady pace—brisk, to most any other pony—he felt his brow creasen. Experience had taught him that this often meant concern or danger was near, and Bulk accordingly slowed and examined the moment. Suddenly, his blood quickened; he had just caught himself in a bout of unconsciousness, having realised he had fallen into his regular walking exercise routine. Was he still on the path? A glance at the clouds reported the affirmative (a grounded pegasus can navigate as a sailor can with the stars).
But there was an aching feeling arising from his breast area, shoulders, and neck; all across his front, there was an unusual pain intermingled with the slight tickle of a feather. Bulk locked his legs in a position to steady the tub, unwilling to unburden himself for so small a worry as it was, and concentrated hard on his chiselled front which he knew with more intimacy than the sight of his nose. Mental images appeared from the sensations in the shapes of little horses, splayed and seemingly panicked. Tubular impressions on his torso indicated the former presence of horns pressed against his skin and fur, and evidence of poultry—or, perhaps, pegasi—began to be discerned. Bulk widened his eyes at the shocking realisation. He had, once more, been on a wrecking spree, reinforcing the regretful moniker of ‘the town’s battering ram’.
Carefully, Bulk stepped off again. He was always in a rush, always hasty. Although he would not betray it publicly, partly because his face was obscured with a tub, his self-reprimand cut deep. He remembered the words of his kindly grandmother, Milk Cookies, and closed his eyes.
Always be ready to go, even if the time may never come. Readiness is patience.
Nodding to himself, Bulk knew her philosophy was true. Anyone who had died waiting must have surely known a bit about patience, he thought. Reminding himself why he had joined the day spa as staff, he carried on, now with a little bit more resolve than before.
His hooves were increasingly depressing into a softening earth. With the sounds of wailing wild-life drifting from the distance ahead, his unloading zone was confirmed. The Everfree Forest: the tip that gives back. Setting the tub down in front of him, he noticed in the light of day how dirty its contents had really become. Kicking it onto its side, the water gushed over and through the uneven ground. It would find its place, eventually, and one day be used as fresh water again. Bulk smiled at the thought, then wondered where he would refill the now-barren basin.
He could use the water tower, but such a large extraction could be discourteous and disrupt the townsfolk’s estimating of reserves. Rain was not scheduled for the entire week—far too long for this essential business item to be unavailable—and Bulk could hardly ask for more water from the weather factory directly; his healthy hydration was already threatening to offset the ecosystem.
Bulk’s brow was creasing again in concern, which was itself alarming, and the whole spiral was very worrying. He instinctively hardened the muscles in his front legs, and vaguely apprehended the lack of weights he could lift and focus on instead. It was a rare time indeed when Bulk did not easily know what to do, as scheduled and rigourous as he was, yet he could nevertheless see that the way back to such certainty was forward through, and not back to. For the challenge had now been set, it could not be un-set, and anything uncompleted would remain so forever. If the town could be of no service, he would find what he was looking for in the dark lowlands Everfree. It remained a question, however, if the water would be pure or contaminated in the absence of pegasi.
With the sunlight obscured by the dense canopy, Bulk wandered with purpose and erratically, scents of dampness rising and falling in controversy with the terrain and its rested debris. Squabbles among animals erupted, sometimes getting close enough to snap the surrounding foliage, but they provided no further clue for his search.
He had not anticipated it be too difficult, finding water. There was plenty of promise in the Everfree, and the lack of reward might have signalled an ultimate futility. But Bulk did not get to be Bulk without a sizeable degree of perseverance. To him, he had simply not gone deep enough.
Yet he was smart enough to change tack. Inefficient techniques had to be dispensed with. Bulk refocussed on the ground, pawing at its texture. After an hour or two, he homed in on a rather soggy patch that had one portion of it collapsed to the underground. A rock had tumbled into the opening blocking it. Bulk cast this mere pebble aside with a flick of his wrist and lowered himself into the cave. He did not realise it, but the play and cries of animals had been supplanted by silence.
A feint, magical light carried through the cramped caverns as if by a breeze. Squeezing through them with his basin in tow and turning a corner, he came upon an open space that took his chilly breath from him as if to compensate for its vacantness. A pool stretched before him, the size of a hoofball court at least, and was glistening in its clarity and stillness. He hopped down to its level and stretched his neck in relief. What had been a tiring escapade had reached a finish, and Bulk was alert again.
Thinking he should take the precaution of reading the large red writing painted on the wall before taking anything from the cavern, he sounded out the words.
“Never…”
The silent echochamber spoke back. Bulk lowered his voice.
“Never ever, for any reason, no matter how much fun it might be (!!) jump into this pool. I really mean it!”
That must be to preserve its purity, Bulk thought in agreement. Filling the basin near to the brim, he began the difficult task of returning it to the day spa with as little spillage as possible.