The Red Cart
Slow Coach Jr. was a rather young colt with a beige coat and a dark brown mane. At only ten years old, he felt older and wiser than his fellow playmates at school. Unlike his peers, he would often sit out and watch carts being pulled, fascinated by how they functioned.
Every day, after his boring day at Boulderton School, he would rush over to a local shop run by an old stallion who had happily offered to teach Coach Jr. about carts and his travels. Coach Jr. listened with great excitement to the many stories of perilous adventures the old stallion had experienced.
"What's your name, mister?" he asked, since he had forgotten again.
"I'm Twisting Turns, don't forget it!" he laughed, before saying,
"That reminds me of when I started this shop almost twenty years ago. I had been wandering for a long time, hoping to settle down with a mare, have a family, all that stuff. But things just didn't turn out that way for me," he smiled wistfully
"What happened?" Coach Jr. inquired.
"I was going through a nearby town, readin some paper I had gotten—about what, I cannot remember—when all of a sudden, I put mah hoof down where there was no ground! Needless to say, I fell into a small hole, with all of mah cargo fallin on me!" he replied.
"Ooh! That sounds like it hurt!"
"It sure did! And even worse, I was a-hauling quite heavy load at the time."
"What were you pulling?" asked the ever-curious colt.
"Ooh I can't remember... But whatever it was, they ought to have taken it by train! Why, sorry-for-my-language, the hay they didn't, I'll never know, since it was a mighty heavy load!"
"Anyhow, after the town doctor looked at my legs, he told me, 'You'd better thank whomever you believe in that you didn't die! If those boxes had hit any higher, you'd probably be seeing a mortician and not a doctor.'" But before Mr. Turns could finish, Coach Jr. interrupted with a question.
"What's a mortician?"
"Eh... You'll find out when yer older," was the only answer the old stallion could come up with before continuing his story.
"After that, I had a mighty fight with the doctor about keeping my leg, but eventually, he folded, said he'd try his best to let me keep mah leg. And after a few weeks of bed rest, I could finally walk again, albeit not without a cane."
I really wanted to get rid of it, but no matter what I've tried, I've never been able to walk without it," he said with some regret. "Anyway, it's getting late, and I'm worried Mrs. Coach will scold me if I keep ya here any longer, so you'd better get headed home now!" Mr. Turns started waving his hoof towards the door as he sat down in his chair.
"But I don't wanna go!" Coach Jr. said. "Finish your story!"
Mr. Turns looked at the colt and then at the clock. "I'm sorry, but if it gets past 1900, I'll be hurting worse than I did when those crates fell on me!"
Coach Jr. began pouting, slowly walking towards the door with his head down, when Mr. Turns spoke up. "Look... Eh... How about this? A long, long time ago, I got this red toy cart. If ya leave when it's time to go home for the day without pouting, I'll give it to ya!"
Pretty much immediately, to nopony's surprise, Coach Jr.'s ears stood up, and he looked back. "Deal!"
After Mr. Turns pulled the cart out of a dusty old box, he gave it to Coach Jr., who proceeded to run off toward home. Mr. Turns walked back to his armchair and took a seat. "Finally, some peace," he said, his eyes glancing over to a few pictures on the nearby table, many of which were of long-departed family. "And quiet," he said with a smile, as he closed his eyes.
It was getting dark, and the magical street lights flickered on, although some failed to do so, leaving patches of darkness. Although Coach Jr. was afraid of the dark, he wasn't too terribly afraid, but enough to make him run faster. Soon enough, his home came into view.
He and his mother lived in a small wooden house, which was slightly burnt on one side from an artillery shell exploding nearby during the Great War. The lawn was well-kept, and a small vegetable "Victory" garden flourished with tomatoes, peppers, potatoes, and other tasty plants that grew well in the springtime.
Finally, by one of the few windows the house had, his mother anxiously watched outside, waiting for her son. He waved to her. She, in turn, breathed a sigh of relief and went to open the door.
"Honey, I was so worried about you!" she said to Slow Coach Jr. at the door.
"I'm sorry, Ma. I was just at Mr. Turns's wagon shop and lost track of time," Coach Jr. apologized.
"It's alright, honey. I was just worried you went into the forest at night," his mother said, her ears slowly perking back up.
"Sorry I worried you, Ma. I'll try to get home sooner." His ears flattened a little, but before any silence had a chance to ensue, his mother announced, "I made up some dinner! It's vegetable soup from the plants in our garden!" She pulled him over to the nearby table, where two bowls and plates, along with some spoons, sat.
Slow Coach quickly sat down at the table as his mother served them soup and some rather coarse ration bread.
"Hey Ma," Coach Jr. spoke up.
"Yes, hun?" she responded.
"When is Pa coming home?" he asked.
The room was quiet as she pulled back the ladle from her bowl.
"He'll be coming back soon. Your father is currently in the Changeling lands, finding all of those bad bugs and bringing them to justice!" she tried to convince him.
"I know, but when is he coming home?" he asked once more.
"I... I don't know. We must be patient, honey. The army needs him a little longer. He will be home soon, alright?" She reassured him.
"Alright, Ma!" This was enough to satisfy Coach Jr., who promptly got back to eating his food.
For a little while, they ate in silence, until an idea popped into Coach Jr.'s head.
"Hey Ma, what day is tomorrow?" he asked excitedly.
"It's Saturday, if I am not mistaken," she replied.
A large grin appeared on his face, and he said, "Maybe we could go to the park tomorrow!"
A lugubrious smile rose on his mother's face, as her ears once again flattened. "I am sorry, honey, I have work tomorrow."
"But you said you would have time on Saturday last week!" he retorted.
"I am sorry, hun. Something came up last night at the factory, and I'll have to be in till late tomorrow," she said, with a sad tone in her voice.
Coach Jr. sighed and said, "Alright."
"Thanks, honey. Hopefully Sunday?" she said.
"Hopefully!" replied Coach Jr., who had just finished his food and promptly went to bed.
Coach Jr. didn't bother to get up early. Only after his mother left for work did he finally rise. He had forgotten to brush his teeth the night before, so in the morning, he grabbed his toothbrush and used a massive amount of tooth powder, figuring the more, the better. After brushing his teeth for a good six minutes, he spat into a bucket, rinsed his mouth outside with well water, and went back inside to get breakfast.
He thought he'd have to make his own, but his always kind mother had prepared oatmeal with some raisins and a brown, powdery substance on top. There was a note in front of it that read:
"Good morning, sleepyhead! I hope you slept well. On the table, I made you oatmeal, and I was able to get some brown sugar and cinnamon! You'll love it. Love, Ma"
He sat down and happily ate his breakfast with a cup of well water. Once he finished, he quickly washed his dishes to the best of his ability and poured the dirty water onto the street. After getting his saddlebags together, he headed outside towards the park, grabbing his prized toy cart and putting it in his saddlebags to show off to his fellow playmates.
After leaving the house, he locked the front door and hid his key in the vegetable garden for later. Then he began running towards the playground, his little hooves moving as fast as they could as he rushed to show his friends his new toy. The sun glittered beautifully upon the morning mist, and a soft chill floated in the air, a cold reminder of the winter that had passed not too long ago.
Coach Jr. ran along the torn cobblestone path, avoiding potholes and large craters from the shelling. As he ran, he saw many ponies working on their houses. Most were almost fixed, but some had been severely damaged by air raids and mortar attacks and were subsequently abandoned. From what he had been told, Changeling forces had been near his town, but from what Coach Jr. knew, the good guys had beaten back the bugs and won the war.
Coach Jr. turned the second-to-last corner before reaching the playground, which had recently been rebuilt. He was quite excited to show off his toy, but when he finally arrived, he saw that nopony was there. It was strange to him, a lovely Saturday morning with no colts playing at the playground.
Coach Jr.'s disappointment was immeasurable, and his plans for the day were ruined. Now, he didn't have anything to do for fun, and he didn't want to go home, where he would either be extremely bored or, even worse, might have to do chores. He thought about going to his friend's house, but as he was considering this, his hazel eyes drifted towards the forest. He had been explicitly told by his mother not to go there since it could be quite dangerous. He debated whether he should explore or not. In the end, the forest seemed like a pretty cool place, from what he could remember.
Coach Jr. crossed the treeline and entered the forest. It was quite a lot brighter than he remembered, although he was still small. He trotted around the forest for a while, looking for a suitable place to play with his cart. As he looked around, he put various twigs and rocks into his saddlebag, gathering them for a little game.
Finally, he stumbled across a rather flat and empty piece of dirt in the forest. To him, this was the perfect battlefield. He got out his rocks, divided them into two groups, and used the sticks as obstacles. To most grown ponies, it would have seemed he was just messing around with rocks and sticks, but in Coach Jr.'s mind, he was commanding a surrounded squad of Equestrian soldiers against an onslaught of Changeling bugs.
While he was doing this, two pairs of bright, teal eyes appeared, watching the colt play.
Late into the afternoon, after playing with rocks and exploring the forest, Coach Jr. decided it was time to go home. As he walked in the waning light, he noticed for the first time two of the four eyes watching him. Coach Jr. held his breath, and the eyes quickly darted away. But he wasn't going to be foolish. As soon as he saw those eyes move, he grabbed his cart in his mouth and began running and screaming for help.
The only issue for the poor colt was that he was ten years old, and they were probably twenty years old. He had little legs, while the others had fully grown legs and wings. Therefore, when the two bugs started chasing him, it took only a few seconds for them to catch up to Coach Jr. One of the bugs quickly tried to grab him by his saddlebags. However, Coach's bags were held together by a knot he tied. So, as the bug grasped one of his bags, Coach quickly turned his head back and loosened the knot, which caused the bug to fly off course and nearly hit a tree, while the other bug dodged the other bag.
Now, the other bug quickly tried to tackle him but narrowly missed. At last, when Coach Jr. was getting close to the waning sunlight outside the trees, one of the bugs tackled him from the side, knocking his precious cart from his mouth. As Coach Jr. slid across the ground, the two bugs quickly grabbed him by his hooves, pulled him back into the forest, and plugged his mouth with a dirty rag, but not before Coach Jr. cried out, "Help!"
A few hours later, Coach Jr. lay in the Changeling makeshift encampment. The cloth was taken out of his mouth, and a warm fire slowly burned in the center of the camp. He was tied up to a tree, his mane much more dull, but the bugs didn't seem to be worried about him. He looked around, trying to see if he could break free, but alas, even if there were a knife nearby, he was too exhausted and unskilled to escape.
"Who are you?" Coach Jr. asked one of the bugs.
The bug glanced over and promptly looked away as he went back to working on a hut wall. So, he asked again, "Who are you?" This time, he was completely ignored. However, this did not dissuade the colt, who continued to ask, in a variety of ways, "Who are you?"
Finally, on his 43rd attempt, the bug broke. "I'm CI-7036. Now can you shut up!?" he yelled at the colt.
This caused the other Changeling to hurry back to the camp. "I heard yelling. What happened?" the bug asked.
"This pony keeps asking me who I am!" CI-7036 snarled.
"And did you tell him?"
"Well, I tried not to, but he kept asking!" CI-7036 huffed.
At this, the other Changeling began laughing. "You expected a little colt to stop asking after a few attempts?"
"Well... no, but he kept asking, at least four dozen times!" CI-7036 said.
"And he kept asking?" the other Changeling asked in amusement.
"Yes!"
The other Changeling looked over to the colt and said, "I am CI-5438. CI means Changeling Infiltrator. What's your name, little colt?" CI-5438 asked.
"I am Slow Coach Jr.!" Coach Jr. responded enthusiastically.
"Ah... I always forgot how... colorful pony names are," CI-5438 responded.
"What do you mean?"
"Forget I said anything."
"What should we do with the colt now that we've harvested his love?" hissed CI-7036.
"We must get rid of the child. We cannot keep him; otherwise, the villagers will find and kill us. Tell me again, why did you chase the boy?" questioned CI-5438.
"I, uh... he saw us! He was going to tell the ponies where we were!" CI-7036 defended himself.
In response, CI-5438 just put his hoof to his face and said, "He would've just said he went into the forest and saw some creepy eyes."
"Exactly! We would've been hunted down!"
"No, we would've packed up and left. Now we'll have to destroy what we've built and start again somewhere else!" CI-5438 practically yelled at the other Changeling.
After a few seconds of quiet, which let him calm down, an idea came to him.
"We need to fool the colt."
"What do you mean?"
"We need to pretend to be his friend. It'll feed us a little bit and make us much safer," CI-5438 said with confidence.
"But what if he still tells the villagers we are here?"
"That's something we'll have to figure out later. This is the best idea I think we'll have for a while anyway," CI-5438 finished.
From what he found out, these bugs, along with at least a platoon of other bugs, were to assist in the capture of Shrine. However, Chrysalis's armies never made it there, and they became stranded. Many of them escaped north, back into Changeling lines, while others were captured. But now, only these two were left. He had learned this from multiple hours of pestering his captors, who were quite a lot friendlier than most Equestrian newspapers depicted them. A lot less scary, too.
"Can you really turn into other creatures?" asked Coach Jr.
"Yes, we can. Although me and CI-7036 can't anymore."
"Why not?" asked the colt
"Hunger. We're both very hungry." CI-5438 lied
"We have food in the village, I'm sure they'd be happy to share!"
CI-5438 chuckled, and said, "I wish it were that simple. Look, Coach, you won't understand this now, but we need a different type of food."
It went quiet for a moment. It was becoming quite obvious that Coach Jr. was getting quite tired, and it was already nighttime.
Then, the area was filled with noise, with the snapping of twigs and the yelling of a group of ponies began to be heard nearby.
"They're already here," CI-7036 said with surprise.
"I can tell, we have to go Seven-O," CI-5438 said to CI-7036, intentionally rhyming, which made his comrade smile.
Then, he looked over to Coach Jr. and said:
"Hey, kid. It was quite the pleasure talking to you, and you made us feel much, much better." He then untied the colt, and, with his comrade, flew away in the dark forest.
After awhile, the group of ponies had finally found Coach Jr. His repeated shouting did help.
The group consisted mostly of police officers, along with some soldiers.
One of them stepped forward, and said, "Are you, all right kid?"
"Yeah"
"Who kidnapped you?" the soldier asked
"I was playing in the forest, and I saw some glowy eyes and I got scared and ran away and then I was caught and I hit my head really hard on the ground and I woke up in this camp." Coach Jr. said quite hastily, slurring his words.
The soldier just sighed and said, "Yes, but who kidnapped you?"
"It was a group of two bugs" Coach Jr. responded
"Do you know which direction they went?" the soldier asked
For a moment, Coach Jr. considered what to say.
"They went that way!" Coach Jr. pointed around in the direction they went. He was sure that they probably changed directions, and the Changelings were the bad guys anyway.
In the end, Coach Jr. was escorted home by a few ponies. His Mother was quite upset with him, and he got quite the earful before he went to bed. Later, at his insistence, they went back out into the forest to find his cart.
And for the changelings? They were captured after attempting to foalnap another pony to steal his love, and joined their comrades in prison.