Nothing ever seems to turn out right, and I don't want to grow up.
“Listen, I know it’s difficult for you, Tender. I can only imagine what it would be like to not be able to talk, and I had high hopes for you when you were hired…” the squat, heavyset pony began.
Tender Rows only half listened to Mr. Confetti. She had heard all of this before, many disappointing times. She was being terminated, again. It wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last. Tender had worked in a dozen of the local businesses and public establishments over the last few years of her life. She had acquired quite the depressing collection of name badges, employee cards, and business attires. Soon a badge with flying confetti and balloons would accumulate with all the others.
Turning her aqua eyes to the floor, Tender watched an ant on the tile. It wandered, its small antennae twerking as it crawled aimlessly in search of whatever had led it into the backroom of Confetti’s Party Supplies. The small, black ant was alone and its search had proved fruitless. If it were lucky, it would return home to the colony where it would be sent out again to try and find something, anything that gave it purpose. It wouldn’t find anything to take home here.
Tender let a short, resigned sigh slip out and faced Mr. Confetti again. Round and dumpy, the pink stallion was also looking away despite facing the mare. Tender read him easily. He pitied her and hated having to terminate her employment. He wasn’t a bad stallion by any means but he was doing what he had to for his business. Her stomach rolled over a little at the discomfort of the situation and she reached out one hoof, gently placing it on the rambling Mr. Confetti’s shoulder, silencing his embarrassed monologue.
Tender gave a gentle, pained smile and removed her apron, placing it on a table in the backroom while the party supply stallion turned a deep beet red and observed with tiny flickers of his eyes, a regretful frown on his pudgy face.
“Miss Rows, I’m dreadfully sorry about this. I just don’t think this position is for you,” Mr. Confetti showed a little backbone and looked directly into Tender Rows eyes. “I’d be more than happy to give you a letter of recommendation, of course.”
Tender nodded weakly and feigned a polite smile. She also had a collection of recommendation letters at home. It was odd, she thought, to be so highly recommended and yet be unable to keep a job for more than a few weeks at a time. She gave a little wave with her hoof and exited the building. Pausing in the early evening hues of purple and red, Tender looked back once more at the party supply store, and yet another failure before heading home.
The walk to the small apartment Tender rented was difficult. She passed the frozen yogurt shop, Sugarcube Corner, and the Equestrian Royal Mail. A litany of former employers mocked her with each step through the vacant cobblestone streets of Ponyville. The public library was the most damning; even at a place where silence was preferred, Tender’s disability had earned her a termination. Each business weighed a little heavier tonight and the earth pony felt like crying.
Tender didn’t blame her disability alone; being mute was a hindrance to be sure, but she had let it shape her into the mare she was. Shy and aloof, Tender struggled to communicate by more than her lost voice.
Her apartment building was a row of dual room buildings connected to one another. They were ideal for young, single ponies: low rent, small space, and terribly depressing. Tender paused at the steel mailbox affixed next to her door at head height and considered waiting until tomorrow to check it. When was the last time she had received a letter? The only ones had ever reliably sent her mail were her parents but they were both gone now. Deciding that her day could not get worse, she opened the lid with a hoof and a burst of glee filled her as she unexpectedly found a letter inside.
A smile worked its way across her face as she pulled the envelope free of the box and flipped it over in her hooves. The smile died as she read who it was from: her landlord. Carefully, she opened it,
Miss Tender Rows,
I regret to inform you that I can no longer tolerate your untimely payments. I know you have had difficulty finding and keeping a position in town but my charity has limits. If you cannot pay the total sum of this month’s rent as well as the last two months you failed to pay, I will be forced to evict you at the end of the month.
-Cut Rate (Landlord)
Tender sighed heavily and tears began to well. She quickly unlocked the door and dashed inside the tiny room, throwing the letter against the wall and diving onto the mattress, her only furniture. She really didn’t need that particularly tart cherry on top of her misery sundae. She curled into a ball and sobbed. Tiny squeaks spilled from her throat, the closest thing to a voice she had, as she cried.
The morning sun was bitter and so was Tender. Groaning to herself in a breathy rumble, she sat up and absently scratched with one hoof. Her mind was foggy as she pulled herself from the bed and checked a cabinet for food. She scrounged with half-open, bagged eyes. Dark circles formed beneath the sockets and were puffy from the evening’s crying episode.
The day before began to replay in her mind and she felt like going back to bed, curling up, and maybe dying. Her tummy rumbled angrily in apparent refusal and she pulled a box of instant oats from the cupboard. It was unassuringly light and something flopped loosely inside. Tender took a peek and frowned. One packet of peach honey oats rested against the bottom, bent upon itself.
Good to know my luck is staying the same.
She fetched a bowl, dumped the oats inside, and ran hot water onto it. Her stomach groaned angrily as she returned to the bed and sat the bowl down to soften. While she waited, Tender lifted the mattress pushed into the corner and counted her savings. It didn’t take long, unfortunately, and she rolled to her back feeling much older than she had a right to.
38 bits. That’s what you’re worth right now, a measly 38 bits. If I can find a new job today, maybe I can pay rent by the end of the month. Maybe, in good faith, I can talk the landlord into letting me stay and pay the rest next month.
The oats were soft enough to eat and the warm scent of honey and peaches filled her nostrils. She began to eat, unaware of exactly how hungry she had been. She chewed slowly in order to get the most nutrients per mouthful and swallowed eagerly. The packet of oats would keep her fed until evening. Scrimping had become a way of life for the mare, but she would need to invest at least half of the remaining funds into food for the week. She just hoped there would be another opening somewhere in Ponyville. If not, well … there was no need to make herself upset yet.
After rinsing the bowl, Tender showered and made herself ready for the day. Her pastel orange coat glowed and her straw blonde mane hung daintily on each side of her neck. She was a young pony but pretty in a humble, plain way. Smiling weakly at herself she thought of where to start. She could get a newspaper and search the wanted ads but that would dent her resources and most of what was posted there would be waitress or cashier positions. She had already been let go from a multitude of those jobs. Her inability to speak made waitressing difficult and most ponies were very talkative and assumed she was snobby, impolite, or rude if she just smiled at them with anxious eyes. She recalled a nightmare experience with one customer when she had tried working in the spa.
I don’t think I could handle another customer like that dress-maker again. I can’t believe her audacity. Even when the owner explained my problems, she just complained and whined and promised to never return. Can’t remember her name… Clarity or something. Hope I never have to see her again.
I could check at town hall. There’s always some kind of government job open. Maybe I could be a mailmare or something. There’s probably not a lot of talking in a job like that. I could get by with nods and smiles.
Tender snatched up her bag, flung it around her shoulder, and placed a few letters of recommendation inside. Taking some of her savings, she headed out to face the morning. It was a beautiful day and the morning sun rolled warmly in the sky as Tender headed towards the center of Ponyville. She couldn’t help but smile and feel a sense of hope under such a wonderful sky.
The weather had been deceiving. The bulletin board at town hall had been empty that morning and, having luckily found a newspaper on a bench, Tender’s choices had been few. Several open positions in the wanted section were at establishments she had previously worked for, and those that remained had either been filled by the time she inquired upon them, or her reputation had preceded her and the business owner simply denied her employment. She sat in the early evening light on a bench in front of town hall.
Having returned to check the bulletin board again, and finding it just as bereft of gainful employment as before, Tender sat on a bench and pondered her dire situation. She desperately needed a job or else she’d wind up scrounging alleys for a place to stay at the end of the month. She couldn’t afford to wait until tomorrow but what else could she do?
The sun was falling fast in the evening sky and most businesses would be in their last hour or two to accommodate the nine to fivers.
“Miss Rows?” a familiar voice called out.
Tender turned to see Mayor Mare’s assistant locking the door. The beige-gray earth pony smiled at her and sidled close, carrying a thick binder. “What are you doing here?”
One benefit to being mute was it was almost impossible to get caught forgetting another’s name. Still, Tender blushed at her forgetfulness and made a strange, embarrassed smile at the pony as she pointed with one foreleg to the bulletin board. The assistant looked and nodded, knowingly.
“Ah… I see. Looking for another job already, huh?” Tender shrugged at the question helplessly.
The assistant moved her mouth to one side and looked up in the opposite direction in thought. “Well, let’s see… I know the Equestrian Revenue Service…”
Tender shook her head gently. She had been fired after spilling ink all over the books of a local business, rendering a year’s worth of careful tax information worthless.
“Oh… You’re right. I forgot.” The pony opened the heavy binder and sifted through the pages before snapping back up to Tender. “How about Ponyville Health Services? I think they have an opening that hasn’t been posted yet.” The assistant turned her head gently to one side.
Tender frowned and motioned as if she were mixing and then shook her head quickly.
The assistant cleared her throat, a little embarrassed at her forgetfulness. “Oh, right. You mixed those blood samples and half of Ponyville thought they had hoof and mouth disease.”
A deep, depressing sigh escaped Tender Rows and the assistant looked back to the book.
“I don’t think there are...actually, a job did come in but Mayor Mare told me not to put it on the bulletin board. Something about the prospective candidates needing a special set of skills. But it’s for a new caretaker at Ponyville Memorial Gardens.” The assistant motioned to Tender’s cutie mark: a cultivator.
Turning her head to look as well, Tender smiled with mild confusion. The long pole with a trio of hooked tines at the end had never meant anything to her. The cutie mark had just been there one morning. She hadn’t known what the image was for days and had never been especially good at gardening. The only plant she had ever attempted to nurture was a cactus and it had shriveled to a mushy pulp. Her mark was a cosmic riddle with no answer but, if it would get her an interview, she had to be somewhat thankful for it.
“Surely you would qualify for an interview with a cultivator as your cutie mark. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t tried for more gardening positions. The job required giving care to Roses mainly.” Checking the book again, the nameless assistant beamed to Tender. “So, interviews are 3pm-6pm at the current caretaker’s building at Ponyville Memorial Gardens. The contact is Mr. Solace Spirit. He’s a moody sort, so be ready for that. If you leave now, you may be able to get there before six!”
Grabbing and shaking the assistant's hoof quickly in thanks, Tender galloped away in a rush.
Ponyville Memorial Gardens was constructed atop a rolling hillscape south of Ponyville, a couple miles outside of the town limits. Girded by a wrought-iron fence, the cemetery was a simple, humble symbol of eternal rest. Rows of headstones of various sizes stood from the earth in circular rows around a marble statue of the Princess of the Night. Other fields of graves stood flanking behind the primary plot with cobblestone walking paths.
Tender Rows gasped heavily, sucking in the cool evening air to extinguish her overused, flaming lungs. She knew the route to the cemetery though she had only been here once before; the funeral of her parents. She had run the entire distance from Ponyville, watching the orange sun dipping closer to the hills and mountains of the Everfree. She needed to find a job today and time was against her. She leaned against the heavy iron main gates of the graveyard as sweat dripped like rain from her over-exerted body.
I made it! Oh, Celestia, I made it but I’m so tired. And sweaty. Good job, Tender. Let’s go to this interview reeking of sweat and worn out. Nice move, smart girl.
“Ma’am, may I help you? I was just about to close the gates,” a voice like oak asked.
Still recovering, Tender had not heard the stallion’s approach. She looked up, mouth hanging open and panting, to the platinum gray pony. He was tall, middle aged, and kind-looking in a grandfatherly way. His slick-backed mane, once black as night, was now only dotted with the former darkness having given way to gray. A small gray goatee hung below his strong, chiseled chin. He was still handsome and Tender blushed uncomfortably.
Great! This day just keeps getting better.
Tender pushed herself up straight and smiled weakly, the blood rushing into her cheeks caused them to glow like the fading sun.
The stallion smiled gently but awkwardly as he waited for a reply. Tender jumped as her brain kicked her rump.
Oh my Celestia, you’re just standing here like an idiot! Tell him why you’ve come!
Motioning quickly, the red of her cheeks spreading, Tender mimed gardening and slapped her cutie mark.
Classy… slap your rump again. You are so bad at this.
The stallion chuckled to himself at the antic. “Did you want to visit a grave, my dear? I’m afraid time is short but we still have a little.”
The mare shook her head and sighed in frustration. She hated when she couldn’t get her point across. She should have asked for a letter from Mayor Mare’s assistant. Motioning with her hooves, she pointed to her throat and flipped up to her mouth before shaking her head.
The older stallion cocked his head to the side, blue, wizened eyes studying the motions and the strange orange mare. Time had given him as many skills as it had taken and he nodded knowingly. “Ah, I see. You are mute. Why are you here, did you need help finding a loved one? If you came for the funeral earlier today, I’m afraid it has been over for quite some time but I would be happy to take you to the resting place.”
Tender was temporarily dazzled by the cool blue of the stallion’s eyes. They were bright with a depth of genial wisdom. Kindness shimmered in them but also a distant, hidden pain.
Job! You idiot, you’re here for a job! Stop getting caught up in fantasy.
Snapping back to reality and clearing her throat, Tender motioned in the negative and prodded her chest.
“You…”
She tapped the walking path.
“Have come here…”
She mimed gardening with a rake but barely stopped herself from smacking her cutie mark again.
“To garden?”
Tender nodded and smiled softly to the gentlecolt.
“Oh, I see. You wish to place flowers upon the grave of a loved one?”
Rolling her eyes, Tender wondered how she had failed so badly. Looking around quickly she spotted a row of rose bushes, luscious red petals splayed open to the retiring sun stood out among the sprightly green leaves. She quickly pointed at them with a hoof.
“The roses?” The earth pony stallion suddenly jerked straight and threw a cautious, confused gaze to the young mare. “The Roses! You are here for the caretaker position?”
Finally!
Tender nodded quickly, a bright smile widening on her soft features. The stallion gave her an incredulous look and Tender’s smile wilted under it.
“Let’s go to my shack and we’ll talk about this, young lady. My name is Solace Spirit, current caretaker of the Gardens. If you would please follow me.” Solace led Tender to the corner of the cemetery where a small building stood.
He stepped quickly but had a pronounced limp in one of his back legs. A fresh, ragged scar ran nearly the length of his thigh. Like a forking lightning bolt, the scar spread in arcs behind the knee. The wound was recent and Tender decided that was the reason for a new caretaker. It obviously pained the older stallion.
The graveyard was bathed in the hues of evening. Framed in ochre light, the headstones were golden memories of a past age. In one of the secondary wings, Tender could make out from a distance the pair of headstones that belonged to her parents. She fought back a tear, remaining focused, but decided to visit before she left. Hopefully she would have some good news to tell.
“Here we are. Please make yourself comfortable. I know it’s small and doubles as a residence for the Garden’s caretaker, that is to say, my residence for now, so please overlook the mess. I was not expecting any prospects so quickly.” His voice was thick but gentle as he spoke but tinged in doubt. He opened the door dutifully for the mare.
Stepping inside, Tender wasn’t sure what to expect. There was a neatly made bed in one corner, a pot-bellied stove in another, and a birch table in the center of the room with two hoof-carved chairs. Whatever mess Solace had warned her of was indecipherable. One wall held a few framed photographs: the cemetery, Ponyville during some sort of celebration, and one of Solace Spirit, much younger with an attractive mare. Tender felt a pang of jealousy at the last picture but stuffed it down into her stomach as she took the seat closest to the door.
Solace rounded the table and placed a kettle on the pot-bellied stove. He quickly lit a match and ignited some tinder inside. “I’ll have some tea in a moment. I’m out of cream but have sugar if you wish.”
Tender smiled in response and fidgeted in the chair.
“Ah, I see. Let’s get down to business, then. Oh, hold on.” The stallion opened a small cabinet and retrieved some paper and a pencil. He placed them on the table before Tender. “I do apologize, my dear, but I believe this will make this interview much easier.” He took the other seat across the table and asked, “What is your name and why do you think this position is right for you? Please take your time and answer as best you can. Strictly speaking, there is no time limit but it will be dark in about an hour. At that time, I must get back to business.”
Tender nodded slowly and bit her lip. She saw he was polite but that he also didn’t think much of her. She began writing and stumbled a few times, having to gather her thoughts before continuing. During this time, Solace Spirit poured a cup of tea for each of them and waited silently. When Tender would look up he would be smiling in his kind, patient manner. He didn’t have to wait long as Tender’s experience was limited. She pushed the papers to the stallion who took a moment to read.
Solace’s expression was intuitive as he read and Tender realized it wasn’t going very well.
I guess tomorrow I can try something else. I may have to move to another town if I can’t find work. I’ve tried so many places in Ponyville there’s not many jobs left.
“Miss Tender Rows, I’m very happy to meet you. Thank you for inquiring about the caretaker position but I can’t say I’m inspired with your resume. This position is reserved for a very … select type. Frankly, I’m surprised Mayor Mare would approach you about the job.” Concern broke across his weathered brow.
Tender took a sheet and began writing.
Her assistant told me about the position. Please, sir. I desperately need a job. I don’t know a lot about gardening or flowers but I’d be more than happy to learn. What I lack in experience I could make up for in effort.
Solace sighed and looked the mare over quickly. “Miss Rows, this job is far more strenuous than you think. It’s not something one can prepare for and can be a bit dangerous at times. The position needs particular skills that I’m afraid you simply don’t have.” Flicking his eyes to the only window of the shack, Solace’s brow furrowed in consternation. “I am truly sorry, Miss Rows, but this position just isn’t right for you. If you would please excuse the lack of policy, it is getting late and I have business to attend to. If you would be so kind, let yourself out and shut the gate, please. Time is short and I must gather my tools.”
With that, the interview was over. Solace Spirit stood and opened the door for Tender to exit. He then rushed off towards the back of the cemetery, his bad leg struggling to keep the pace.
Tender moved into the cemetery, following the path with heavy, weighted steps. She came upon the graves of her parents, deciding she had to see them. It had been too long and her failure was not an excuse. Sitting on her rump and drooping like a rotten banana, tears dripped down her muzzle and tumbled to the grass.
Mom… Dad… I’m here. I’m sorry I haven’t visited sooner. I want to be near you but it’s painful, too. It’s been hard since you were taken from me but I’ve done the best I can. I know… that I’m nothing to be proud of but I’m still trying. Maybe someday I can come back and not be a failure to you. You were both such good ponies. I’ve taken your lessons to heart and I’ve done a lot to try and overcome my challenges, but it’s so difficult when everything falls apart because I can’t talk! I wish you were both still here. I miss you so much! I’m sorry I’m worthless!
Falling prone to the grass, Tender released a stream of tears. She sobbed in silent gasping gouts and buried her face into the grass between the tombstones. The last couple of days had weighed upon her like stones at a witch trial and it had only been a matter of time before they crushed her. Trembling and screaming silently into the earth, Tender released the shame of her miscarried confidence. She remained there for what seemed a very long time, eyes clenched and refusing to open to the cruel world. Tender, her heart devastated, fell asleep nestled between her parents as she had as a foal when others made fun of her disability. Even in death, they gave her comfort.
Tender snapped awake to the guttural growl of an animal in the distance. Hopping to her hooves, the mare popped her head up like a meerkat, searching for the source of the rolling, angry hiss. Her heart beat like a bass drum, resounding in her ears as blood rushed through her body. The moon hung overhead in the abyssal sky like a flashlight in a tunnel. Oddly, the summer insects were quiet and only the fractured, broken growls bogged the deep of night.
“I’m not too old to deal with the likes of you.” Solace Spirit’s voice was distant but Tender’s ears were radar dishes and honed in on his location. The stallion sounded angry, short of breath, and possibly hurt. Tender swallowed the initial fear and darted in the direction of the commotion.
Dodging headstones at full gallop, Tender Rows sped through the columns of ponies laid to rest. Her spine tingled with nerves but another cry from the caretaker dismissed the warnings her body issued. She could see him now, white coat spattered with crimson spatters as the beast roared, crawling low. She couldn’t make out the type of animal as it slunk through the graves toward Solace Spirit.
Solace fell back to the ornamental statue of Luna in the center of the Gardens. A severe limp broke his gait and he struggled to maintain balance as his rump butted up against the cold marble of the statue. He clamped his teeth into the handle of machete and prepared for the creature to strike.
Tender had closed the distance when the creature leaped towards Solace. The hide of the thing hung in strips like peeling wallpaper doused in kerosene. It’s flesh appeared melted with decay and a sudden, gut-churning stench filled her nostrils. She fought the urge to puke as she processed the thing before her. It was a pony but in a state of festering rot to the point that gender identification was all but a forgotten hope. What coat and mane remained hung in clumps like hornet nests of sallow, bloated yellow flesh. Squirming things writhed within the rancid meat and Tender skidded to a halt. She wanted to scream but couldn’t, even if she had the ability.
Solace’s machete sliced cleanly through the air before the decrepit pony just ahead of the pounce. The thing crashed against the stallion and bit viciously into his exposed shoulder. Solace cried out and the machete flew free of his grip to crash with a loud ping from a grave nearby. The monster pressed him against the statue and tore a hunk of pink meat free. A fresh shower of crimson blood painted the silvery coat and streaked the base of the statue. Solace struggled under the creature as he slid closer to the ground, attempting to use his strength to force the thing off of him. His bad leg buckled and he slumped onto his back while the thing secured its position over him and chewed the meaty morsel in its mouth.
“Not like this, Princess. Don’t let your loyal devotee meet his end like this. Please, give me the strength to smite one more rotten Rose from your Garden!” Solace cried out, his strength faltering.
Tender’s heart froze in her chest. Monsters weren’t real! Not monsters like this! Her mouth hung slack as she attempted to process what she was seeing. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time. Solace was fading beneath the monster. Swallowing the flesh hungrily, the creature roared to the moon in victory and opened its mouth impossibly wide in preparation for a kill.
Mom, Dad! Please help me! Just once, Princesses, please don’t let me fail!
Tender leapt to the abandoned machete and took it into her mouth in one fluid motion. She turned as the creature, silhouetted in the silvery moon, gnashed it’s broken, disjointed jaws towards the stallion. She had no time left and bolted forward, bringing the machete down into the neck of the thing.
The monster jerked suddenly and one of its forelegs went limp under the biting blade of the machete. It made no sound but twisted unnaturally, the cut opening a trench of floundering meat and snapped bone. It fell forward, all of its weight coming down on the separated shoulder, and crumpled as it attempted to support itself with the flailing appendage.
Solace’s eyes went wide and he rolled away from the monster with a painful groan. Several wounds oozed dark blood from torn flesh where the beast had bitten him, but he still had strength enough to get away form the immediate danger. “Miss Rows! What are you doing here? I thought you had left. Listen, you have to get out of here. Give me the machete and run!”
Tender looked the stallion over. He was exhausted and breathing hard. His bad leg spasmed as he attempted to stand, and he collapsed to the cobbled path once more. He wouldn’t be able to escape the beast and had even less of a chance of killing it. She shook her head forcefully and nodded to his wounds. Her expression was solid and unmoving as marble. She could see shame wash his handsome features but also acceptance.
“It’s a dead pony, Miss Rows. It’s scary, I know, but don’t be afraid. All of them have minor differences but most of them are dispatched with a sharp blow to the head. Damage its brain and it will once again be nothing more than an empty vessel.”
The creature writhed and flipped onto its back, a great groan poured from the sucking wound she had given it as it rose from the ground. Tender stood above Solace, facing the creature. Panic rolled into her mind but she shook it loose before it could take hold. This was life and death, life versus death, the precipice of success and failure. She wouldn’t let her doubts or disabilities ruin this moment. She wouldn’t be terminated this time.
I bear witness. You have proven your mettle, now prove your skill. I will not intervene for an interloper to our sacred mission.
Tender’s head filled with a voice not her own but she couldn’t focus on it as the zombified pony charged, its loose leg hindering the forward motion enough for Tender to strike preemptively. The machete flashed in the moonlight but caught the rag-dolling foreleg it had already damaged. The blade bit angrily and the leg fell to the ground several feet away, motionless. The corpse pony fell to the side but rolled to its three remaining legs and snapped with drooling teeth. One of its eyes had burst and a fine slime drenched the remains of a cheek. The other almost glowed with rage.
“It’s going to lunge again, Tender. Aim for the neck or hit it with a vertical chop right between its eyes. You have to kill the brain. You can do this!” Solace shouted as he dragged himself away from the battle.
Don’t be scared. You can do this. This is insane but you can do it. You’re not worthless. Prove it!
Hissing and drooling a mix of various bodily fluids, the corpse pony staggered forward quickly, much quicker than Tender expected. It’s jaws ripped at the air mindlessly as it came in. Tender took a moment to aim, closed her eyes tightly, and brought the machete down again with all of her strength. She felt it make purchase as the steel split the skull of the zombie. Her teeth rattled hard enough to numb her mouth. She opened her eyes to find the blade buried through the skull of the monster and stuck in its throat. The pared skull fell to each side like soggy macaroni and she released the machete. The corpse fell back on its haunches dumbly.
I did it! I killed the monster!
“Good strike! It has to be finished. Miss Tender, that was an ama…” Solace began.
The thing began twitching, shaking as if it were a toy in a frisky dog’s mouth. The corpse wobbled to its hind legs and stood, a sickening tearing came from within it like wet cardboard being ripped apart by angry bodybuilders.
Oh… this is bad.
“It’s a splitter! Tender! This one’s weakness isn’t the brain, it’s the heart! Watch out, it’s about to…” Solace’s words were drowned out by the sudden, violent rending of the thing’s torso pulling apart. Broken ribs glowed pink in the moonlight, stuck from the meat like gnarled, deranged teeth. Intestines slathered from the open belly like a wet, grotesque tongue lapping at the ground below. Unnameable filth poured from dozens of gashed holes in the bowels as the beast tottered on its back legs. The makeshift maw roared in defiance and Tender could see clearly the eschewed lungs, liver, and kidneys slavering within what used to be the body cavity.
She froze, having never met with such terror before. In her horror, she had not seen the machete disappear into the night and realized she was facing an abomination of nature unarmed. Her stomach ached from the bowling ball of ice weighing it down, anchoring her to the spot. Cold sweat poured like hail from her pores and soaked her orange coat. The creature clambered closer and her body refused to heed the calls to run.
Solace had fought his way to his hooves like a drunk trying to find his way home after a particularly difficult bender. He yelled to the stunned mare, “Tender! Move! It’s slow on two legs but you have to snap out of it.”
Fear held Tender in stasis. Her mind and body couldn’t unite under the terror paralysis of the monster.
Go! Get moving or it’s going to eat you, stupid! One hoof at a time, come on. Are you going to let this thing win? Are you really going to fail again?
Tender’s head moved punily as she tried to answer the voice in the back of her mind.
What? This is it, idiot. Prove you aren’t a joke of a pony. Fight it like you have a spine or let it tear you apart like the loser you are. Are you a loser, Tender? Is that what you’ve let the world make you?
The shredded corpse pony flailed its cleaved body with each short, awkward step. Body fluids drooled from the gaping maw of snapped bones and repurposed, putrefied flesh.
Tender’s neck loosened and she shook her head.
NO!
Worthless!
NO!
You’ll never be anything!
I WILL!
You are going to die here and disappoint the spirits of your parents even more than they already were!
I WON’T!
PROVE IT!
Tender shot forward, her body suddenly free of the paralysis. A strange, rasping wind tore from her as she charged the creature. It was her scream of rage, shedding the shame and fear, refusing to let this monster finish her just as she had begun to find the strength hidden inside of her.
Solace dragged his bad leg behind as he limped past Tender. He motioned with his head to a short, black structure barely recognizable in the dark of night at the edge of the cemetery. “Miss Rows, we have to get to the shed. There are more tools there. You go ahead, I’ll lead the thing. On two legs, even a broken down old Caretaker like me can outrun it.”
Tender looked from the writhing monster to Solace Spirit and stuttered her steps, biting her lip.
“This isn’t a discussion, Miss Rows. I’m not finished yet but we both may be if you don’t hurry. GO!” Solace demanded, watching as the corpse maw jerked and rolled, fighting to stand. Tender sped off and he breathed a sigh of relief. His leg ached and the bites burned like magma boiling away at his flesh. He faced the thing and growled, “I’m an old pony and a tired pony but you’ll work for your dinner! Get up, come get me.”
The shed sat alone near the back of the graveyard and it took nearly a minute of hard running for Tender to reach the structure. She turned and saw Solace Spirit staggering through the graves, the maw stumbling stupidly in pursuit on its back legs. The remains of its upper body hanging vestigial except for the chewing, macerating mouth. She needed to be quick, she knew the stallion was brave but he wouldn’t be able to kite the thing forever. She flung the door open to the shed and stepped inside.
It was as dark inside the shed as the bottom of the ocean. Tender bumped into several invisible objects, hearing them shuffle and shift. Something fell and clattered with a sharp, ear-perforating metallic clang. Her hooves felt the raw, packed dirt floor of the shed as she blindly felt her way across the small building. Something bumped her nose and jangled. Recognizing it as a chain, she grabbed with her mouth, tasting the rusty iron beads as she tugged down.
Dull, amber light echoed across the shed. The fragile light did little to illuminate but she could perceive many gardening tools decorating the walls. Most she identified: shovels, rakes, hoes of all different sizes. Some, however, were odd or so specialized she could only guess at their purpose. In the center of the shed was a monstrosity of a machine that she didn’t understand. Turning in small circles, she looked for the item that seemed the most useful. It was hard to know what to choose and she became frustrated.
Come on, Mr. Spirit can’t last much longer. Choose something...but what?
The filament inside the bulb made a hissing, sizzling noise and the bulb popped. Darkness reclaimed the building and Tender shuddered as uncertainty filled her.
Just a little help, please. Show me what I’m missing.
A sudden silver beam of pure moonlight pierced the darkness. It fell upon a single tool, one Tender recognized as her cutie mark. Tender felt a presence with her, a deliberate moment entertwined with fate. It was a sign, she understood. For the first time in her life, Tender felt as if she had a purpose. A tear rolled down her cheek but she couldn’t celebrate yet. Taking the three tined cultivator, Tender Rows rushed from the shed and back towards the hulking aberration haunting the graveyard.
Solace Spirit huffed deeply, the pain in his leg reaching with sharp, slicing claws up into his hips and spine. Every step sent agonizing waves rippling through his lower body and his fatigue was growing. Willpower alone was driving him forward as the growling monster began to close the distance between them. He turned to the monster and laughed. “Come on, then. Come get me, cursed creature.”
Turning away, Solace found Tender Rows holding a long pole fitted with three claw-like tines at one end. She stood confident and strong, the darkness rolling from her as if she were the Princess of the Night herself. He chuckled to himself, lungs throbbing painfully. “About time, my dear. I’m tuckered out. The heart… get its heart to finish it.”
Tender stepped between the pursuing beast and the older stallion. She lowered her head and prepared the cultivator to strike. The monster opened its mouth torso, a dark, black clot pulsed from within the rib-teeth. She knew it to be the heart of the undead beast, pumping hideous magic, or whatever had reanimated the thing, through its ruined body. Intestines dragged between its legs as it clumsily approached her.
The corpse swung the remaining front leg hanging from the gut-maw at Tender. She ducked benath it and the thing opened its massive, dripping maw. Its rotten flesh tore and hunks of meat fell from as it spread the pink rib-teeth wide enough to swallow Tender completely. It opened, preparing to bite the mare in half but Tender focused on the throbbing heart hanging from scraps of loose, frayed flesh in the midst of the maw. She had enough time to make one strike and she swung the cultivator up from beneath.
The curved claws contacted a few stringy strands of muscle, tearing through them easily in their ascent. Slicing perfectly between the broken, jagged ribs and shredding what entrails obstructed the path, the cultivator reached its destination and bit deeply into the thrumming heart. The tines tore gaping holes that spurted black blood in the hard, beating muscle. The creature let out a wild, ravenous roar and closed the rib maw around the wooden haft of the tool.
No you don’t! You’re finished, monster!
Planting her hooves and jerking back with all of her strength, Tender pulled the cultivator free of the beast. Hanging, clutched in the sharp tines, and thumping frenetically was the heart. Black blood pooled on the ground as its spasming beats slowed. The body of the beast slumped, attempting one last, desperate attempt to reach Tender. The heart ceased beating and began to melt, chunks of oily meat falling to the soil below. The body similarly reduced to a slick, oily pool of filth.
Tender watched the thing liquefy and, once satisfied she was no longer in danger, turned to Solace Spirit. The stallion still breathed hard and patches of his platinum coat were stained with thick, red blood but he smiled.
“Miss Rows, thank you for coming to the aid of this old fool who doesn’t know when to resign. I’ve put it off for far too long and nearly paid the ultimate price for my foolishness.” Amiable but shameful of his pride and stubbornness, the Caretaker bowed to the best of his ability to the young mare.
Tender grinned and shrugged to Solace. It must be hard to give up something you’ve done so long. She could understand his reasoning but many, many questions hung in the air. She knew there was no way to articulate what she wanted to ask with signs and motions.
“If you would, my dear, please assist me to the Caretaker’s shack. I need to get these wounds cleaned up and you and I have a great deal to discuss.”
Tender slid against Solace, offering herself as a crutch. Solace grudgingly accepted and, supported by Tender, hobbled toward the shack.
Solace had disinfected his wounds by the time dawn had broken. Tender had assisted, her few weeks as a nurse paying off as she sewed closed the wounds that would not have healed on their own. Solace broke out a bottle of hard cider and poured them each a cup full of the heavily distilled drink. It had burned Tender’s throat but filled her belly with much needed warmth. They sat in the same chairs at the same table where her miserable interview had taken place.
Tender was tired and she leaned back in her chair, letting the alcohol toast her from the inside. A small, pleased grin remained on her lips as she closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe what she had done, the fears she had faced. She had never felt so alive and so proud of herself. Her inner warmth was more than the liquor; it was blossoming self-confidence and pride.
“Miss Tender. I know you have many, many questions about what happened tonight. I’m hurt and very tired so I would like nothing more than to go to bed and regain what strength this old body has left. I can’t answer all of your questions, so let me just say a few things.” Solace looked much older to Tender now. He was still quite handsome but his prime was lost long ago. What was left was experience but inability. He struggled to admit it, she knew, and nodded very lightly.
“We call them Roses. Hence, what Mayor Mare’s assistant was referring to, but neither she, nor the mayor herself, know exactly what we do here. To most, we are simple gardeners and caretakers of cemeteries across Equestria. But to those of us in the Caretakers Association, we are the first, and many times, only line of defense against the dark magic that brings back our loved ones as horrible abominations. We don’t know what causes it, but sometimes the bodies of the dead return to the world of the living on the night of their burial.” Solace paused, searching Tender for understanding. She nodded gently for him to continue.
“There are many types of Roses. The splitter, like you fought tonight, is rather uncommon but very dangerous. The bravery you showed tonight was simply amazing. That’s a rare attribute and you should be proud of your abilities.”
Turning his face to the floor, Solace’s voice became dark and thick. Heavy like molasses. “Unfortunately, nobody must know the horrors of the night. We are sworn to uphold the creed of the Caretakers. That means, you understand, that I have to do something about you, a non-member, who has seen the things that lurk the night.”
Tender’s smile faded and she felt her heart skip a beat.
“And so, I give you an unfair choice. I feel the best route is to offer you the job. It has its perks, you understand, but it also has its problems. Your abilities speak for themselves, my dear. Are you still interested in becoming the Caretaker of Ponyville Memorial Gardens? If so, the position is yours.”
Tender’s heart filled to the brim and she emphatically began nodding.
Solace pulled a few papers from the cabinet behind him and pushed them towards Tender. His bright blue, kind eyes watched her happily as she read the contract. “Once you sign that, your position is life-long. You will forever be a member of the Caretaker’s Association. Of course, at this point, you will sign or be exiled far from the Equestrian borders, but it is your choice and one not to take lightly. Not all of us get to retire. Many of us fall long before our natural time should end. But we provide a service to our great land and to our friends and neighbors that many are simply too weak to know. Knowing this, you must choose.”
Tender hesitated for only a moment. Her lip quivered and a tear spilled down her cheek. She signed quickly and wrote a quick note, pushing the papers back to Solace. Before he could read it, Tender wrapped Solace in a hug. She wept silently and pulled away, suddenly realizing the display she had put on. She beamed at the old Caretaker and dried her eyes, sniffling softly.
Solace chuckled to himself and looked at the contract, eager to read what tender had written.
For the first time in my life, I feel like I belong. I’m not worthless. I have finally found my purpose and I gladly accept.--Tender Rows.
“Miss Tender, I am proud to ordain you new Caretaker of the Ponyville Memorial Gardens. Go home, rest, and come back today at 6pm. I’m very happy to have you take my role but there is a lot you still have to learn. Tomorrow you will pack up your possessions and move in with me here until your training is complete, at which time you will inherit this shack, the shed of tools, and the responsibilities that come with the position.”
Tender shivered with excitement and hugged the stallion again.
“Okay, okay. I’m happy you are happy, my dear. Now, please, as much as I would love to celebrate, I am very tired. Be back here at 6pm.” Solace moved toward his bed, exhaustion weighing down upon his injured body.
Tender lowered her head in thanks to the old stallion and shut the door behind her quietly. Walking to her apartment in Ponyville, she was bursting with joy. Her heart was full and, though tired, she had never felt so full of hope or so certain of herself. Tears swept her cheeks and she paused to gaze up at the morning sun.
Thank you. Whatever you are. Thank you for finally showing me my purpose.
Author's Note
I hope you enjoyed this story. I really like Tender Rows and have wanted to write some adventure horror in the style of Joe Lansdale for a while. He's the king of the mojo western and I hope a little of his style has rubbed off on this story.
Hopefully, Tender's adventures will continue.
Thanks for reading.
