DAY ONE Chapter One
Cadance's foal sitting course taught her basic first aid, bedtime tips, and how to change a diaper, but it did not cover what to do if two thug unicorns with a weapon showed up. She had to figure that out by herself.
The trouble started with a phone call, on a Monday late in June.
"Is this Cadance?" a woman asked.
"Yes."
"This is Twilight Velvet I got your name from Mrs. Cheerilee at the community center. She said you've completed the foal sitting class."
"That's right." The name meant nothing to Cadance. Ladder she would learn that she and her husband own a five star hotel called the Equetri-inn.
"Mrs. Cheerilee told me that you are fourteen," Mrs. Velvet said. "Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"I don't usually hire anyone that young, but I'm in a bit of a bind. My mother just broke a leg; I need to go to the hospital, and don't have anyone to watch my daughter, Twilight. I don't want to take a three-year-old with me to the emergency room. Could you come right now, and stay for about four hours? I can pick you up."
"I need to call my mom first, to be sure it's okay."
"While you do that, do you have any references I can check?"
Cadance gave the names of the only two ponies who had hired her so far. Mrs. Velvet said she'd call back after she had talked with them.
Cadance's mom was in a meeting, so she called Mrs. Cheerilee to be sure she had given Cadance's name to Mrs. Velvet.
"Oh, yes, dear," Mrs. Cheerilee said. "I hope you can help her out. You're lucky to get such a job."
When Mrs. Velvet called back, Cadance said she could come. She left a message on her mom's voice mail, giving Mrs. Velvet’s phone number. She combed her hair and put a monkey hoof puppet into her purse. Ten minute later, a gray stallion with a silver mane pulling a carriage pulled up in front of her house, and Cadance ran out to meet her new employer.
Mrs. Velvet was pleasant, elegant, and clearly worried about her mother. Twilight, a dimpled foal, was strapped into a carriage seat in the back.
"Hi Twilight," Cadance said.
The little filly gave her a drooly grin and continued to play with a grubby-looking stuffed donkey.
"I like your donkey," Cadance said. "What's your donkey's name?"
"Smarty Pants," Twilight said. "This be Smarty Pants."
"Hi, Smarty Pants,"
"I'm sorry this is such short notice." Mrs. Velvet said. "Usually my nanny would be with Twilight but she got invited on an impromptu trip, so I gave her this week off, and I took vacation time. Twilight's had lunch and it's almost time for her nap. Her schedule is posted on the fridge; I keep that up-to-date. There's a list of any phone numbers you might need, including my cell phone. My husband's out of town, so I'm the only contact today, but I'm sure you won't need anything."
She looked back. "Twilight's a sweetheart. She won't give you any grief."
The stallion pulled into a circular driveway and stopped before an impressive brick house. While Cadance admired the manicured lawn and lush flower beds, Mrs. Velvet took Twilight out of her carriage seat.
As soon as they were inside, Mrs. Velvet said, “I hate to just dump you like this, but I have to rush. Be a good filly, Twilight. Cadance's going to play with you and give you some ice cream." She gave her daughter a quick hug, thanked Cadance for being there, and promised to be home by six o'clock. A trace of expensive perfume lingered in the air after she left.
"Ice cweam?" Twilight said heading toward the kitchen.
"Sounds good to me," Cadance said. She opened the freezer compartment above the refrigerator and saw six pints of Ben & Jerry's finest, (what weird names, she thought to herself). Cadance's mom bought the store brands on sale; Cadance liked this job already.
"What kind do you want?" She asked. "Vanilla? Crystal berry?"
"Choca Chip Cookie Dough," said Twilight. "Smarty wan't Choca Chip Cookie Dough."
Cadance found bowls and spoons, and sat down to enjoy the treat. While they ate, Twilight pretended to feed ice cream to the toy donkey, and Cadance read through the instructions that were on the fridge. No surprises there.
After they ate the ice cream, Cadance took Twilight to her bedroom for her nap, making sure Twilight used the bathroom first, as directed.
"Blankee," said Twilight, reaching for a blue blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed.
Cadance covered her with the blue blanket, then read two stories to her.
"Smarty go night-night," Twilight said as she made sure that her stuffed donkey was also under the blanket. Then she put his ear in her mouth, closed her eyes, and quickly fell asleep. What an angel, Cadance thought. Mrs. Cheerilee was right; Cadance was lucky to have this assignment. Maybe if she did a really good job, she'd be asked to come again.
Cadance desperately wanted to show that she was trustworthy. Even though it was too late to prove it to her dad, she needed to prove it to herself.
As always, thinking about her dad brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to forget that horrible conversation with him, but no matter how hard she tried to ignore the memory, it stayed with her. Whenever she thought about it, she felt shriveled, like an orange left too long in the fridge.
Why hadn't she admitted her error, and apologized? Why had she been so stubborn and defensive? Most of all, why hadn't she told Mom and Dad what had happened right away, instead of staying silent and hoping they wouldn't find out?
The problem had been completely her fault. She had agreed to feed the next-door neighbor's dog, Lucky and take him for a walk because Mr. Prendell, who lived alone, had to go straight from work to a meeting that night and wouldn't be home until midnight.
Cadance had taken care of Lucky many times before. She knew where Mr. Prendell hid a house key, and where Lucky's food and leash were kept. Whenever Mr. Prendell couldn't get home on time, he called Cadance, and she fed and exercised lucky. Usually Cadance stayed a while and played with Lucky or brushed him. She couldn't have a pet of her own because her mom was allergic to animal fur, so it was a treat for Cadance to visit Lucky, and Mr. Prendell always left five bits on the counter for her.
That last time, Mr. Prendell had called on a Tuesday evening, and asked Cadance to come on Wednesday. She had agreed.
He called again on Thursday. "What happened last night?" he asked. "Your money was still here and Lucky acted hungry when I got home."
As soon as she heard his voice, Cadance realized what she had done. "Oh!" she said. "Oh, Mr. Prendell, I completely forgot! I'm sorry! Was Lucky okay?"
"It didn't hurt him to wait for his dinner, but there was a big wet spot on the carpet next to the back door."
Cadance felt sick. "I had planned to come as soon as I got home from gymnastics," she said, "but my aunt and uncle from Fillydelphia stopped in unexpectedly. They were in town on a business trip and decided to surprise us, and then we all went out for dinner, and when we got back, my dad showed some home videos and I simply forgot about Lucky. I am so sorry!" She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about Lucky wating by the door to be let out.
Mr. Prendell was nice about it, but Cadance felt terrible. How could she have done such a thing? Poor Lucky! Next time Mr. Prendell asked her to dog-sit, she would write herself a note. If there ever was a next time Cadance wouldn't blame Mr. Prendell if he found some pony else to take care of Lucky.
She knew she should tell her parents what had happened, but she was ashamed that she'd forgotten Lucky, and she didn't want anyone to know, so she said nothing to them. That turned out to be an even bigger mistake than forgetting to take care of Lucky, because Mr. Prendell happened to see Cadance's dad out by the mailboxes a two days later.
Her dad had been leaving for work, but he stormed back inside to confront Cadance. "I just talked to Mr. Prendell," he said. "I understand you let him and Lucky down."
It was one of those days when Cadance felt as if she couldn't do anything right. Twenty minutes earlier, Mom had snapped at her because she had neglected to unload the dishwasher the night before. Cadance had meant to, but she had a report due, and by the time she finished her homework, she forgot about the dishwasher.
That morning, Mom was rushing around, getting ready for work, and when she opened the dishwasher to put her cereal bowl and found it full of clean dishes, she acted as if it were a federal crime to forget a chore.
Cadance already felt inept that morning, and it was only seven o'clock. Now her dad stood beside her, looking furious. Cadance stared silently at her toast.
"Why didn't you tell us what happened?" he asked. "We would have offered to have Mr. Prendell's carpet cleaned."
It had not occurred to her that her parents could help make up for her blunder.
"I can't believe you were so irresponsible," her dad went on. "When you say you will pet-sit, you are agreeing to care for a living creature. Lucky is Mr. Prendell's best friend! He trusts you to be sure Lucky is fed and comfortable. Instead, you let Lucky go hungry and made him wait to go to the bathroom until he couldn't hold it any longer and had to go on the rug, which he knew he shouldn't do."
"I told Mr. Prendell I was sorry," Cadance said.
"I would hope so! But saying you're sorry is not enough. You should have offered to take Lucky for a walk every day for a month, or told Mr. Prendell that the next five pet-sitting jobs were free. You can't just be sorry for your mistakes; you have to take action to make amends. What if Mr. Prendell had been gone over night, as he sometimes is?"
Cadance knew her dad was right, but she was afraid if she admitted it, she'd burst into tears and end up going to school with red eyes and blotchy skin. So instead of acknowledging her error and apologizing, she mumbled, "Every pony makes mistakes. You aren't perfect."
"No, I'm not," he said. "But when I say I'll do something, I keep my word. I'm ashamed of you."
He turned then, went out to his carriage, told the stallion to leave, and walked to work.
Three hours later, in the middle of a test, Cadance was called to the principal's office. Wondering what else she had done wrong, Cadance entered the office.
Her mom waited for her there. Cadance could tell from the look on her mom's face that something bad had happened.
"Your dad had an accident on his way to work," Mom said, her voice choked with tears. "A speeding carriage ran a red light and... and killed him."
Just like that, her dad was gone.
Cadance felt as if she'd been turned to ice. She would crack into a thousand pieces if she tried to move.
Her mom, sobbing now, put her forelegs around Cadance and hugged her hard, but Cadance did not respond. In that first, horrible moment of understanding what mom was telling her, Cadance remembered her dad's last words to her, hearing his voice as clearly as if he stood beside her. "I'm ashamed of you."
In the three months since then, Cadance had relived that final morning in her mind a thousand times, wishing she could take it back and do it over.
The last thing she had said to him was, "You aren't perfect."
Maybe he wasn't perfect-who is? But he was a great dad who played Scrabble with her, and built her a balance beam so she could practice her gymnastics routine. He actually read the books she liked, and then discussed them with her. He took her and her best friend ice-skating every winter, and he came to all her school events, and even watched baseball games on TV with her.
If Cadance could live that morning over again, she would say, "You're right. I'm sorry, Dad. I love you."
Even more terrible than those hurtful last words was knowing that if he had not come back to talk to her about Lucky, he would have left for work five or six minutes earlier. He would have been safely through the area before the speeding carriage got there.
No one ever blamed Cadance for the accident because nopony else knew that her dad had returned to talk to her that morning. But Cadance knew.
She kept her terrible secret: her dad's death was her fault and no matter how much she regretted her behavior, nothing would ever bring him back.
Cadance pushed the memory of that morning away, and wondered through Mrs. Velvit's house, witch looked as if it should be featured in House Beautiful or Today's Interior Design. It wasn't formal, though. Twilight's toys were scattered about, and the books stacked on the coffee table looked as if they were there to be read, not just to serve as part of the decor.
A sliding door lead from the kitchen/family room to a large patio and an adjoining swimming pool. Cadance went out, leaving the door open a foot or so, so she could her Twilight if she woke up and called to her. She stretched out on a lounge chair, and thought how great it would be to live in a house like this. Not that it was ever likely to happen.
Cadance and her mom had a cozy two-beadroom house with nice neighbors, but the hole thing would fit in the kitchen of this house. Cadance's parents had hoped to buy a larger house in a year or so, but the plan had died along with Cadance's dad.
She didn't mind staying in their old house. It was comforting to be in familiar surroundings, where she had so many memories of her dad. Her mom didn't want to move now, eather.
"I've had too much change in my life," Mom said. "I wouldn't buy a different house now, even if I could afford to."
Neither of them said it, but they now had less need of extra space, since only two ponies lived there instead of three.
Without Dad's salary, money was tight. Cadance hoped to earn enough this summer to pay for her own things and maybe even help a little with groceries. Probably not Ben & Jerry's, but she could buy the peanut butter, apples and bagels that were mainstays of her diet.
Dad told her it wasn't enough to be sorry for a mistake; she needed to take action to atone. She now walked Lucky every day, at no charge. She had taken the foalsitting course, and she was earning some money to show that she was responsible.
Cadance made a mental note to call the community center tomorrow, to thank Mrs. Cheerilee for recommending her to Mrs. Velvit.
Feeling relaxed in the sun, Cadance closed her eyes. She thought about "Winning Secrets," a story she was writing. She had several note books and computer files of original stories and poems. She thought "Winning Secrets" was her best effort yet, especilly the parts where her characters used a secret signal to communicate.
Cadance jumped at a sudden noise. Was Twilight awake?
Cadance looked at the time on her phone. Three o'clock. She must have dozed off, because she had put Twilight to bead at one-thirty. Mrs. Velvit had said Twilight usually slept about two hours.
Cadance hurried inside to check on the little filly, as she started upstairs, she heared what sounded like another pony walking in the house. Was Mrs. Velvit home already? She went to the front door... it was open, but she didn't see her carrege. Cadance closed the door climbed the stairs, and went into Twilight's room.
The bed was empty.
"Twilight?" Cadance said. "Where are you?"
Was she hiding, playing a game?
"Twilight!" Cadance called. "Lets have some more ice cream."
Her voice echoed in the empty room. Her heart hammered in her chest. Where was Twilight?
Cadance looked in the bathroom. She ran from room to room, calling, looking under beds, yanking open closet doors. Fear ran with her, making her legs shake.
"Twilight!" Cadance shouted. "Twilight, answer me!"
She remembered the swimming pool. A fence guarded against accidents; could the gate have been unlocked? Oh, please, no, she thought as she rushed back downstairs. If Twilight hed tumbled into the pool, the splash would have awakened me. Wouldn't it? I was sitting right there, next to the water. Surely I would have heard her.
Cadance raced through the family room and out to the patio, Her eyes scanning the smooth surface of the water as she approached the pool. Only a white safety ring floated on the clear blue water. She ran to the edge of the pool, where wide steps invited swimmers to enter.
Her eyes darted from one side of the pool to the other. Twilight wasn't there.
Her relief that Twilight had not drowned was quickly replaced by dread. Had Twilight let herself out the door? Had she wandered off through the neighborhood, gone into the street? Awful possibilities, each worse than the last, flashed through Cadance's mind like a slide show. Remembering the open door, she ran back to the front of the house, opened the door, and hurried down the curved path toward the circular driveway. Had someone come in the house while she slept and taken Twilight? If so, who?
Twilight's father was out of town. Her grandmother was in the hospital. Her nanny was on vacation. Nopony else was on the list of personal phone numbers. There was no one with a legitimate reason to come into the house.
Cadance thought back, trying to remember if the front door had been locked. She remembered Mrs. Velvit hugging Twilight when they arrived at the house, telling her daughter to be good, and rushing away. She had not pushed the door lock before she went out, and Cadance had not locked it after she left.
Why didn't I lock the door? WHY?
She had learned in her foalsitting class to always keep the doors locked when she was foalsitting. After Mrs. Velvit left, she could easily have turned the lock, but she hadn't even thought of it. She had been too eager to give Twilight her ice cream, to establish a connection so that the filly would like her.
Cadance looked around the yard, listening, hoping she might still hear a little filly say, "Ice cweam," and see her galloping toward home. She only heard the drone of a fast flying pegasus, high overhead.
As Cadance turned to go back to the house, something caught her eye, a small grey lump lying at the base of one of the shrubs that edged the path. She looked closer. Smarty pants!
Twilight's stuffed toy, the grungy donkey that she had played with in the car, had pretended to feed, and had clutched as she fell asleep, lay there in the dirt.
Cadance stared at the donkey, wondering how it had gotten there.
If Twilight had climbed out of bed by herself and had gone exploring, the donkey would still be with her. Cadance knew that as surely as she knew her own name. If Twilight had dropped the little donkey, she would have picked it up. She would not willingly have left Smarty behind.
But if somepony was carrying Twilight, and Smarty slipped from her grasp, that pony might not stop to retrieve the toy. That pony might be in a hurry.
Shivers ran up Cadance's back and for a minute she feared the ice cream was going to reappear. She picked up the little donkey and carried it back to the house.
She knew.
She would have given anything to make the knowledge go away, but she couldn't. It was there, coiled inside her. It pressed all around her, a heavy dread hanging in the air, pushing down on Cadance, ready to smother her with each breath she took.
She knew.
Twilight had been foalnapped.
