Roma bucked a beige hind leg at one of the poles holding up the awning of her market stall but her hoof just scraped at the wood. She glared over her shoulder at the pole and aligned herself to try again. The second miss nearly dropped her on her side. Roma snarled and wheeled around to face it directly. She reared up and battered at it with her forehooves until the wood cracked with a loud snap, throwing pieces of pole spinning off in all directions.
She stood panting through clenched teeth. A piece of wood had knocked off her white cap, freeing her pent-up chocolaty mane to curl around her shoulder. She reared up again and stomped down on the remaining piece of the pole over and over until it was crushed into splinters. With a snort she turned and picked up her cap, dusted it off, and trotted back under the half-closed awning.
“Fluffy pink abomination,” she muttered around the cap in her teeth. “One bit is the right price,” she said with a mocking lilt. “Right price my tomato dotted—ack!” The cap dropped to the ground again as a loud knocking came from the counter behind her.
“Hey, Roma! You ready to go and par-tay?”
Roma turned to see a light gold pegasus with a flowing cyan mane hovering and grinning beneath the awning. “Ugh, what? Rainy? Not tonight. It’s been a long day.”
Raindrops folded her wings as she landed. “Wait, what? You’re bailing on Lemon’s party? But we’ve been planning it for weeks!”
Roma turned away from the pegasus and picked up her cap again. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“But why?” Raindrops planted her forehooves on the counter and stretched her neck towards the other mare. “I thought you were looking forward to it, too? And I know little Aura was looking forw—”
Roma bucked both legs back at the counter. Raindrops yelped and flapped backwards while the counter rolled out into the lane among a spill of tomatoes and a flutter of papers. The market mare didn’t even turn around. “Shut your muzzle or I’ll shut it for you.”
Rainy gulped as her wide eyes drifted between the counter, the broken pole, and Roma. “Roma… What has gotten in to you?”
“Nothing,” Roma growled as she took her apron off. “But if you imply that I’m disappointing my daughter…”
“Right, right, got it. Sorry.” Raindrops hovered down and started to gather up the tomatoes. “I’ll just tell Lemon that you were busy or something. Does Aura have a card or something she wanted to send for Berry Pinch’s birthday?”
Roma sighed and turned around. “Yeah. Just—just follow me home and I’ll give it to you to deliver.”
A gravelly voice called down the lane, “Hey, sweet cheeks, who’s yer friend there?”
Roma sat down and rubbed at her temples. “Crafty, I am not in the mood right now.”
Crafty Crate scratched at the stubble on his chin. “I’m just tryin’ ta be civil, Roma. Somethin’ ya seem to be losin’ yer grip on today. Especially after those tree broads ripped ya off earlier.”
Rainy looked up from putting tomatoes back in their baskets and frowned at the stocky brown pegasus. “Broads? Er, tree broads? I don’t know whether to be confused or offended. Both? And what’s he talking about, Roma?”
“It’s nothing,” Roma snapped. “Crafty…” she said, turning back to him.
Crafty Crate trotted past Roma, stepping carefully around the strewn papers and tomatoes. “See, what happened was these tree ladies—”
“Hold up.” Rainy sat down and cocked her head at him. “What does any of this have to do with trees?”
Crafty sighed and readjusted his cap. “Ya gotta problem with numbers? Ya know, tree. Less than four, more’n two? So anyways—”
Roma planted a hoof over his mouth and glared back at Raindrops. “Blah, blah, blah, they ended up cheating me out of half of a sale and then nopony else wanted to pay full price the rest of the day. There, happy?”
“Ah, yes. Yelling. I must be near Roma’s stall.”
Crafty knocked Roma’s hoof aside and nodded at the approaching brown earth stallion. “Hey, Caboose. I was just tellin’ Roma’s friend, er—”
“Raindrops.” Rainy rolled her eyes. “But why would you remember? We only worked together for like a year at the moving company.”
Crafty took off his cap and began fidgeting with it. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I guess I ain’t too good with faces.”
A chuckle escaped Caboose as he gently hoofed a tomato towards Rainy and stepped up to the group. “Perhaps you could practice by actually keeping your eyes on them for a change.” He sat down with a smirk and tipped his blue and white striped hat towards the two mares. “Ladies.”
Crafty cleared his throat. “Anyways, likes I was sayin’. I was tellin’ Raindrops, here,” he nodded towards the pegasus mare, “about how Pinkie hoodwinked Roma into takin’ only half price for her purchase.”
Raindrops had turned her attention to gathering up the papers from around the knocked over counter but looked up sharply at the name. “Wait, Pinkie cheated you? The town’s smile-oholic?”
Roma’s teeth ground together loudly. “If everypony’s about done airing my problems in the middle of town I’d really like to go home now.”
“Not that you were acting any better,” Caboose said as he turned to face Crafty, “trying to gouge Fluttershy over the cost of a single cherry. That sort of behavior will just cause the Mayor to come down here with more regulations. Though,” he said, glancing around at Roma’s stall, “I wouldn’t be surprised to see her down here with a heap of fines when she gets wind of the damages. Roma, you do recall these are rentals, right?”
She spun around and stomped towards the earth stallion. “Your point?” she shouted. “Is she gonna come down here and take what few bits I did make today or is she going to try and squeeze the rest outta my rump?” She draped a foreleg across her eyes and sighed. “Look. Just forget it. I’ll take care of things in the morning.”
Crafty shouldered past Caboose to place a hoof on Roma’s shoulder. “Hey, Roma, what’s the deal? You gots money problems or somethin’? I ain’t got a lot, but if yer in trouble I can try and helps ya out some.”
“Nnnno!” she snarled as she knocked his hoof away. “I don’t need nopony’s charity and I certainly don’t need your pity.”
Her left ear twitched. Nearby a couple of ponies had stopped to watch the scene unfold in the street. One murmured something while the other one gestured at the overturned counter and shook his head.
“Hey!” Roma shouted, staring pointedly at the two, “Do you mind? Does any of this look like it concerns you?”
Caboose scoffed. “Roma, didn’t you get your fill of screeching at customers earlier?” He looked over at the onlookers, “Sorry sirs, the market has closed for today. But we’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early, with a whole new assortment of goods for your every need!”
Roma just muttered beneath her breath as her eyes drifted down to the ground.
Behind the three Raindrops looked up from the gathered papers. “Hey, uh, Roma, these sure do have a lot of red on them…”
The tomato seller’s face pulled into a tight frown. “No, really? Do you happen to know what it is that I sell h—wait, what the hay are you doing?” Her head snapped around to look at the counter and then back over to the papers in Rainy’s hooves. “No! Keep your hooves off that!”
“I was only trying to hel—gack!” Rainy looked up to see Roma pouncing at her while the two stallions just gawked. The pegasus tried to leap into the air but her reaction was not fast enough. Beige legs and a panicked expression crashed into her chest and the two mares tumbled hard against the side of the counter. A cloud of papers, knocked free of Rainy’s hooves, spun about in the disturbed air.
More and more ponies stopped on their afternoon walks or wandered over from the café to check on the source of the commotion while the letters drifted down among the growing crowd. For a moment a hush fell over the gathering ponies as the more curious snuck glances at the scattered parchment. A few moved to start gathering them back up again while others began to whisper back and forth.
“…final notice…”
“…foreclosure forebearance agreement? What’s that?”
Roma pushed herself off of Raindrops and looked around in horror. Her eyes rolled around wildly as her shrunken pupils tried to trace the voices. “No,” she muttered, ears drooping. “No. Nono nononononono. Stop. Please… Please not that one…” She reached out with her forelegs and scooped the closest notices protectively up to her chest.
One of the ponies helping gasped and pulled one of the pages closer to her in an orange glow of magic. “Foal Services? Oh my…”
Crafty snorted and tugged his cap tighter down on his brow. “Hey!” he shouted. A couple of flaps of his wings brought him muzzle to muzzle with the unicorn mare. “Hooves off, lady. Er, magic. Whatever!” He wrapped his hoof around the floating paper and looked around at the others with a look of disgust. “Ain’t you all got things to do?”
The whispering stopped. Throughout the crowd ponies shuffled about. Some turned faces filled with concern and shame at one another while others simply shrugged. Crafty huffed and turned back to the letter. He tugged at the floating paper and frowned when it didn’t move. “Do ya mind.” He stared sternly at the unicorn until she released her magical grip with a gulp. Crafty turned around in the air and flew back over to where Roma lay.
“Hey, uh, Roma. I think this is what you was lookin’ for.” When she didn’t turn he reached out and nudged her shoulder, the parchment crinkling from where it was clasped in his fetlock. “Hey.”
Roma’s head turned around in short, jerking motions. Her pinprick pupils landed first on the letter Crafty held before continuing up to look him in the eye. A crust of mud had pooled around her lower eyelids, a mixture of moisture and the dust from tackling Raindrops. “It—it doesn’t matter, anyway. Right? What’s done is done, right?” She gave a monotone chuckle from the back of her throat. “It doesn’t matter that everypony’s going to know now, right? Know that I failed?”
She rose unsteadily to her hooves and turned to the crowd. “I mean, it’s all a joke after all, right?” The dirt beneath her eyes started to break apart as fresh tears welled up. “A mare and her foal trying to get by, that’s a joke, right? It was certainly a big joke today, right?! Today of all days…”
“Ungh…” Raindrops groaned at the prodding in her side. She opened an eye and looked up at the brown earth stallion standing above her. “Wha—what happened?” Caboose nodded his head towards where Roma was standing.
Rainy’s expression hardened with rage. “That’s right, I was attacked by a crazy nag!”
Roma turned back around, her mouth quivering. “I… I’m so—”
“You know what? Save it. I don’t care anymore. I come down here and see you’re having another one of your little crises or whatever and when I try to help all you do is fly off the handle! That’s it! I don’t even care whatever your little problem is today!”
Crafty flew up to her. “Look, Raindrops, it ain’t like that—”
“I. Don’t. Care. She probably deserves it anyway. I’m outta here.”
Crafty held up a foreleg in protest but Rainy just brushed past him and flew down the road, over the town hall, and out of sight.
Roma’s head and ears drooped. Between sniffles a weak chuckle escaped her again. “Deserve it. Heh, maybe I do. A tomato mare that can’t sell tomatoes. A mother who can’t even keep a home. It is all a joke. Just a big joke!” A low wail rose in her throat as she tried to blink her eyes clear. She shook her head and rubbed a foreleg over the bridge of her muzzle but couldn’t hold it in. The cry shuddered its way out of her mouth as she spun around on her hind legs and galloped away between the stalls.
An hour later the sun was just sinking behind the town hall. Crafty Crate and Caboose had shooed the crowd away and cleaned up the market stall, as best as they could, in silence. They gathered up the scattered, dirty bills and notices and put them back into Roma’s saddlebag where she had left it in the counter.
Crafty finished pushing the last of the tomato bins under the still-standing side of the awning, being careful to not push too fast and send the fruit rolling again. He lifted his head from the side of the bin, tipped up his cap, and used his foreleg to wipe the sweat from his brow. A shadow fell across him in the evening light and he looked up to see Caboose holding the rope to the awning in his teeth and motioning for Crafty to move. Obligingly he backed out from under the awning and watched as Caboose pulled the knot loose and tied the rope to a peg.
“Hey, Caboose, thanks for helpin’ me clean up here.”
“No worries. We can’t have tomorrow’s customers seeing the aftermath of—of that. From earlier.”
Crafty sighed and shook his head. “Is that all yer ever thinkin’ about? Appearances? What about Roma?”
Caboose sat back on his haunches and looked over at the pegasus. “Well, no. I mean, sure, me and Roma have our differences from time to time but I don’t know what to think about all this. And besides, it’s not like she wants, or will even accept, any help. Stupid pride of hers.”
“Caboose… now ain’t the time.”
“It’s just, you know. You read about these things in the paper but you never see it happening to a pony you know, you know?”
“Yeah, she hid it well. Actually, ya know, I gots an idea.”
“Crafty, you know she won’t accept charity. Our hooves are tied.”
Crafty stood and resituated his cap. He spread his wings and glanced back at Caboose. “It ain’t charity. I aim to make things right.”
Pinkie Pie always found the kitchens of Sugarcube Corner pleasant in the evenings. The ovens were cooled and cleaned, the floor swept and mopped, but still the lingering scent of baked goods hung in the air. She inhaled deeply and let out a slow, contented breath as she wheeled the bucket over and dumped it into the mop sink in the corner. She hung up her apron and tossed her kerchief in the laundry basket with the day’s towels before flipping off the lights and trotting up the stairs.
Today had been a good day, overall. First there had been lunch with Rarity and then they had bumped into Fluttershy in the market. The pegasus had been stressing herself out again but her and Rarity had tried to lighten her mood some. For a bit there it seemed like not getting that cherry was going to send her back into the dumps but as they had walked her home she assured them that she was fine and just had to finish her daily chores. Pinkie was scheduled for morning shift tomorrow but figured that after she was free she’d head back out to Fluttershy’s to surprise her with some tea and pastries. Fluttershy always appreciated the simple gestures.
Pinkie pulled the schematics for her Welcome Wagon out of her wardrobe and spread them out across her bed. She had an idea for how to set a failsafe to avoid future mix-ups regarding confetti and batter placement.
A scraping sound caught her attention and she peered over the edge of the bed to see her toothless alligator, Gummy, crawling out. With a grin she swept him up in her hooves and placed him on the pillow to overlook her design.
“You see I figure if I calibrate a weight sensor… here,” she said, poking at the paper, “to the different packets I can have it make, like, an alarm go off if I get them mixed up! Wee OOO wee OOO!”
Gummy swiveled a purple eye up at her and began to gnaw at a corner of the paper.
“Well, duh. Of course I could just color code the intakes. But this’ll be a lot more fun to build! See, I just move this part—”
A knock echoed through her door. “Pinkie, dear, you have a visitor.”
“Oh! Thanks, Mrs. C!”
Pinkie hopped off her bed and trotted to the door. She glanced back as a soft thud reached her ears. Gummy had tumbled off the pillow and landed on the rug. His small legs slowly swayed in the air.
“That’s fine; you wait up here and keep thinking about that compensator.”
Pinkie skipped down the stairs, hopping over the last couple to land with a flourish of confetti. “Ta-da!” She opened her eyes and looked around the dimmed interior of the bakery. Her eyes narrowed as they landed on a stocky brown pegasus sitting at one of the tables near the front. “Oh. What do yoooouu want? You almost ruined Fluttershy’s day with the way you treated her, you know.”
Crafty Crate squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at the top of his muzzle. “You—but—” He sighed. “You know what? You’re right, it was wrong. I’m sorry. But listen, there’s somethin’ I gots to talk with you about…”
The door let out a long creak as Pinkie nudged it closed.
Gummy crawled out from underneath an end table holding a pink balloon in his jaws and looked up as the mare trudged by. When she slumped down beside her bed he scurried out to sit on the rug and stare at her.
“I don’t know, Gummy. I mean, I was just trying to help Fluttershy out, not ruin somepony’s business! Let alone…”
Gummy chomped down on the balloon, causing it to shoot out of his mouth towards Pinkie. She reached up with a hoof to knock it back over to him. “No, I don’t think just an apology is going to cut it, this time. Maybe if she had just—no, I don’t see why she would. Wait! I bet Rarity—no, he said she won’t allow that, either. Oh, Gummy, I’m not used to making ponies cry.”
The little alligator wrapped his jaws around the balloon and squeezed again. The balloon flew up to bounce off the ceiling and drift down slowly. One of his eyes turned to track the falling balloon while the other trailed up to lock gazes with Pinkie.
Pinkie clapped her hooves together and squealed with delight. “Gummy! You mad genius, you. I think you’re on to something!” She narrowed her eyes over a wide grin and rubbed her forehooves together. “We’ve got some inflating to do.”
Roma pulled her cart to a stop beside her market stall. No, she reminded herself, as of this afternoon it won’t be mine any longer. Or the house. Or… no. By Celestia they won’t take her. We’ll be on the train within an hour. We’ll—
A squeaky yawn came from her cart followed by two light purple legs and a disheveled aquamarine mane. “Momma, can we go home now? These boxes are lumpy.”
Roma walked over and nuzzled Aura’s mane. “We’re going away for a while, sweetheart. Don’t you remember last night?”
Aura bit at her bottom lip and tapped her forehooves together. “You were sad. And you said we couldn’t go to Berry’s party. And I didn’t get to give her her card.”
Roma sat back on her haunches and hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve got some stamps in my saddlebag, let me get those and how about you mail the card to her? Everypony likes getting cards in the mail, right?” She stood and trotted over to the tent.
Huh, she thought with surprise as she noticed the front of her stall had been straightened up. Well, guess Aura’s not the only one who’s got a letter to send later. They deserve a ‘thanks’ and a ‘goodbye’ at least. Even Caboose.
She untied the rope to the awning and ducked under the flap. The sun had yet to raise fully and the interior of the stall was nearly pitch black. With a sigh she groped her way to the corner, gripped the remaining pole in her teeth and stepped back out to raise the awning. After a few moments she had the awning back in its half-raised state from the evening before. Now she could at least see inside without banging her shins up. She looked over to see Aura slumped over the edge of the cart, her mane waving with each of her tiny snores. Roma smiled and trotted back into the stall to start pushing the bins of tomatoes towards her cart.
“Excuse me, missy.”
Roma popped her head up from behind the tomato bin. An elderly grey stallion stood in the road squinting through thick spectacles at a card in his hoof. “Um, sorry pal, the market’s not open yet. Come back in like an hour.”
“But I see tomatoes right there.” He rubbed a foreleg across his spectacles. “Er, those are tomatoes, right?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Well I got this here card, fell right into my hooves it did. And it says you’ve got the best tomatoes around. Am I at the right place?”
Roma lifted an eyebrow and cocked her head. “Well, yeah—”
A patter of hooves came from behind her. “Yeah! My momma’s tomatoes are the best!”
Roma looked down at the filly standing beside her. “I sure am glad you think so, sweetie, we may be eating them for a while.”
The grey stallion squinted at the sign in the bin of tomatoes. “Two bits per three? I’ll take six.”
“No, sorry, I can’t sell these. I’m going to need them.”
“Fine. How about four for four, then? I’ll take eight.”
“Really, that’s—”
“Just pipe down and take my bits already. I ain’t had my breakfast yet and these’ll do nicely.”
Roma bit back another comment and nodded. “Sure.”
The stallion put the card in his saddle bag and pulled out some bits before setting his bag beside the bin. He walked over to the counter and placed the bits on it while Roma loaded up his purchase. She curiously peered at the card as she set the tomatoes in the bag. Sure enough, it had a crayon drawing of a tomato with words praising their quality. There was even a crudely drawn map with an arrow pointing at her stall.
What the hay?
“Hey! She’s selling all the tomatoes to that guy!”
Roma helped the old stallion get his saddle bag back on before turning to the voice. A blue earth mare stood in the street waving another card and frowning at the grey stallion. “I can pay what he’s paying! Don’t let him take them all!”
Before she could respond another pony stepped in line behind the mare holding yet another card in his teeth. She leaned her neck out and looked down the road only to see even more ponies beelining her way.
“Momma, lookit the balloons! Can I have a balloon? Can I? Can I?”
Roma looked down at her daughter who had started hopping around in a circle. “Huh?” she responded. She looked back up and sure enough, balloons. Hundreds of them, thousands, perhaps, were drifting over the houses. On the lower ones she could make out what appeared to be a card tied to each.
She sat back on her haunches with her mouth hanging open while more and more ponies lined up in the street. One of her tomatoes hovered past her head in a pale yellow glow while off to her left the sound of flapping cloth vied for her attention as well.
“Wha—hey!” she shouted at the floating tomato. Its surface dented slightly as it was squeezed in the magical grip. Turning away from the tomato to check on the other sound, she saw Crafty pushing a new pole under the other side of her awning. “What? No, I’m not open today!”
Crafty chuckled and swept a foreleg out towards the line. “You so sure about that?”
A tall, dark blue unicorn stepped around the line to a chorus of protests. The yellow glow around his horn faded as he set the tomato back in the bin and approached her. “Hmm. My buyer never mentioned we had somepony selling heritage tomatoes in town. I say, do you grow these yourself?”
“Well, uh, yeah. Yeah, I do. It’s my family’s variety; I brought them with me when I moved from outside Baltimare.”
“Your rather inventive advertising campaign seems to hold up, then. These are exquisite. You know,” he said, tapping a hoof against his chin, “I’ll go ahead and take whatever you don’t sell today at the closing price. How does that sound?”
“Uh.”
“Splendid! And would you, perhaps, be able to supply my restaurant with a bushel per week during season? I expect they will be quite a hit.”
“Hey, Roma.” Crafty trotted to her side while Caboose finished tying open the left half of her stall. “Why don’t you go on and get that bidness taken care of. Me’n Caboose can handle this crowd for yas.”
She blinked some moisture away from her eyes and threw her hooves around his neck. Aura giggled.
Crafty glanced around sheepishly and gently pushed her away. “C’mon now, ain’t no call for all that. Just, ya know, welcome home, kid.”
Roma smiled and nodded. She turned around to the unicorn while Crafty and Caboose trotted over to the line of ponies. “I think we can work something out. Do you have, like, a contract or something?”
“Of course,” he said, nodding. “It’s back at my restaurant. If you’ll just follow me we can get this squared away in short order.”
Roma knelt down and looked her smiling daughter in the eye. “And you, little lady, should probably get going to class before you’re late.”
Aura stopped hopping in place and frowned. “Aww, you said I wouldn’t hafta go to school today!”
“Don’t you want to give Berry her card?”
Aura bounced up again. “Oh, yeah!”
Roma reached out and straightened Aura’s mane. “Well run along then. And have fun.”
The filly leapt up and hugged her mother before turning and hopping back into the cart. Moments later she popped back out with an envelope in her teeth and went galloping down the road.
Roma turned only to have the world tint pink as a large balloon bounced off her snout. A thin ribbon hung down from the balloon with a card taped to it. On it, drawn in crayon and with the same flowing script as the other cards, was a simple sad face and the words ‘I’m sorry.’
Roma smiled to herself as she placed the balloon and card under her counter and grabbed her saddlebag full of forms. She stepped out into the light of the rising sun and trotted over to follow the unicorn.
Author's Note
Thanks to the staff and judges of The School for New Writers for the fun contests that I hope return someday!
And special thanks to FrontSevens and NotSoSubtle for giving me some tips on polishing it up!
