Chapters Chapter 1: Iginition
It is important to remember that it only takes one spark to start a fire. The flames of adventure burn so brightly that it beckons to those who see and follow its call - and the reward of peace then befalls the community. But his story wishes to break this tradition.
Enter a stallion who wore a cold skin. Perchance one to look at this fellow - the very thought of it unpleasant to most, only a brave soul dared - then one would predictably wish to veer off into a second evil. Age twenty proved to be his age; though his mentality argued a greater year. Twenty-seven was a time that was far from his early years but still not sagaciously mature... in a land between two worlds. Never one or the other. Ampere Van Current was his name.
At quite the early age of five, he witnessed the raping of his mother and the consequent death thereof. She was the last jewel that he held in his life. His father had left him earlier. On that fateful, rainy day he stood at the top of the hill of courage, for he followed the stallion that was responsible for his mother's death. The stallion dragged the lifeless body of his mother to a ditch, cursed, and hurriedly left the scene. Standing from the hill of courage, Ampere looked down upon his mother. While still standing atop the hill, he rushed to greet his front hoof with his mother's cheek. Cold. He had not cried yet - in all actuality, he could not tell if he was crying or not. The rain acted as a magnification for his tears. They dripped from his eyes as they landed on his face, mixing with his native tears. The darkness of the clouds acted as a symbol of his pain. The mud acted as a translator for explaining his pain. That his world was slowly falling apart and melting. This recipe proved well into producing the thickest substance known to ponies: cold isolationism. The author is disputed, but one could say Nature or a mad pony. In the end, there is no difference.
After feeling his mother's cheek, he moved his face to nuzzle hers. Cold. He looked at the lifeless body again. Two minutes passed. His coat was beginning to be drenched in rain - pain - and cold. He tried burying his mother by digging a hole but a wave of mud prevented its completion. His mother still lay there, lifeless. He tried to drag her into the house but he slipped, fell, and hurt his knees. It was the mud's fault. He received a cut on his third fall and then began to cry from the pain; again, in all actuality the rain had mixed in with his tears and could not be differentiated... he had begun moments before. He decided to quit his task and then sprinted for the house - whilst crying... When he arrived just inside the door, he bolted under the table, as if hiding, and began to cry in full force. He placed his hooves over his head and then began to lament on the act. Why him? Why? What did he do? Where was Princess Celestia? After a minute or so, his tears did not stop but his heart slowly quelled. He cried himself to sleep. For a moment, he ignored his wetness as depression took hold of his heart. Ironically, it gave him warmth from the cold. A warmth that was not easily forgotten.
When he awoke, he found himself in bed, neatly tucked in. There was a chair which belonged to the kitchen that was in his room... with a bowl of still warm soup. Until age twenty-one, he would not learn who was responsible for such miracle of kindness.
Chapter 2: Dusk-at-Dawn
The day opened as per the usual. Or, at least that was how it felt to him. Ampere turned off his alarm clock that read "5:50 A.M." and then walked into his bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror for a few seconds, adjusted his mane with his hoof, and then commenced his routine morning rituals. He dressed himself for work with a black dress shirt - the topmost button unbuttoned and set his cuffs to a comfortable setting. He stepped into the kitchen and made himself some instant coffee. The fumes failed to penetrate him as he was accustomed to their aromatic miracle (or perhaps his isolationism barred it). He did not possess any sugar - for the past four months - and therefore drank the black liquid without any regards to taste. Taste was an alien word to him.
It was late summer and fall was fast approaching. His job allowed him majority of the summer off but he decided to work overtime, defying the average-minded pony. Besides, he needed the money. He was saving up his money for something. He didn't know what, but he knew he had to. His mother told him to treasure what things he held. His mother.
He went down a mental list of material that he needed before leaving the abode... wallet, I.D. card, pen... keys, watch... evidently a smile was not one of them. But of course, a cold skin and an unemotional mind were givens. He opened the door and stepped outside. He turned around and locked the door. When he was finished, he stood a few steps back and said, "I'll be seeing you later."
Dusk-at-Dawn was an industrial city. With the land being infertile and agriculture a non-possibility, its citizens had grouped together in living quarters and had their food imported. A few greenhouses were scattered throughout the city, but traditionally Dusk-at-Dawn had established a trading pattern with other cities: manufactured goods in exchange for produce. Their wealth did not come from the land but rather the factories that produced said manufactured goods.
Its inhabitants were generally kind but had seen their share of thieves, villains, and criminals. In short, corruption coexisted with smiles. You never knew who was who but there was some degree of safety. If anything, most were ready to smile after a hard day’s toil in the factory. Honesty pay was ingrained into their lives over thievery.
Ampere was, of course, never a victim of thieves and pickpockets. However on one occasion, a pony with a knife, a sickly fellow desperate for food, attempted to stab him while he was carrying groceries. Ampere swiftly dodged the thrust, forced his opponent to lose his balance, and then stared at him coldly. One scowl was all it took for him to rethink his life and begin looking for a steady wage job.
Ampere was quite the unusual fellow in this city. He lived alone on the outskirts of the city in a one story house, never really talked to many ponies - if any, and wore his apathetic mask. Though in truth he did display semblances of his emotion, it was just that he rarely did so. On his way to work there was nothing out of the uniform. Save for one thing.
Chapter 3: Potential Difference
Chapter 3: Potential Difference
Ampere liked to arrive at work early, partly because there weren't as many ponies on the streets on his way to work, partly to get a head start, and partly to see the dawn. The dawn had reminded him of his mother. When Ampere was a young colt, his mother had always caressed him in the warmth of dawn. His habits as an early riser was born from this. Ampere had never missed a single dawn since the first time he consciously saw one.
He would hold his hoof out and try to possess the dawn. He never succeeded. His mother held his hoof after a few sustaining seconds when he did this and he always felt her warmth.
It was about 6:00 A.M. now and he went to the usual spot. It consisted of a bench that sat upon a slightly elevated cliff within a park. The cliff was an out-of-place protrusion. It contrasted heavily against the industrial Dusk-at-Dawn. The bench was built by Ampere; to everypony else, no one knew for sure but they held some suspicions.
He sat gently on the bench that was growing creaky. His posterior felt welcomed and accustomed to the firm grooves of the bench seat. In truth, he was no architect. Ampere had actually went to the furniture manufactory and asked the clerk there for a simple bench. It was made that afternoon.
He was just a tad early - a common in his vocabulary of reality - and this allowed him time for reflection. He looked up, tilted his head back, and stared blankly at the brightening sky. He remembered his mother's death. He had tried to suppress the thought but it haunted him always. He could never escape from its gripping tendrils. Simply looking the other way was not an option. It is difficult to do so when insulting comments float to your nose that you can sniff them out precisely. It is only a matter of time until pony curiosity invites for another sniff... and just seconds later complete slavery. It's difficult to look forward when there's so much to look at behind you.
"Hello?" Ampere's trance was cut short. The shy but bold voice squeaked once more, "Is this seat taken?"
Ampere looked at her. He made the semblances of a scowl and looked at the grass.
"It's okay, it's fine. If it's-"
"No. It's not taken," he interjected.
"Oh, okay then." The young mare said, scrambling to keep her bag of groceries from falling onto the ground. She was tired, perhaps from carrying the load for such a long distance. She was not superbly built in the manner of an athlete, and only possessed the power of everyday strength. She was perhaps just a foot away from the bench when she tripped and the groceries began their descent unto the ground.
Ampere saw this and in an instant rushed for the groceries. He managed to save the bag first right hoof, a banana second with his left hoof, and a pomegranate with his muzzle.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!"
Ampere placed the items into the grocery bag that the mare set down from his hoof. Then he sat back down on the bench as if nothing happened. He looked on at the rising sun. The young mare finally sat on the bench with her groceries aside her on the ground. She sat a tad nervous in his presence but kept her composure. Ampere still looked apathetically at the rising sun. The contrast was brilliant.
"Thank you - again," she said nervously and hesitantly. Ampere turned to her and drew a small scowl. It was brief and so he withdrew and orientated his face at the grass. She had a feeling that he would act that way. She stiffened her defense and wore a walled countenance. Thus, here sat two unlikely candidates for a little adventure.
"Well, I really must get going," she braved. She picked up her groceries and hurriedly went on her way to an unknown destination. A minute passed and Ampere looked at the empty seat to the right of him. He spotted a bracelet that read "Volta". He looked to his left. He looked to his right. He looked at the bracelet again. The dawn's light shined on it. It blinded his eyes at first but he adjusted to it. He picked it up. The sun was now fully visible in the sky.
Chapter 4: Resistance
Another interesting feature of Dust-at-Dawn was the use of trolleys. Operating twenty-four-seven, grids of rail scarred the city as if it were a metallic Venice. One would simply hop unto a trolley - free of charge - and hop off whenever one's destination was reached. Advertisements located on the trolley peddled passengers. Stall holders from the streets had their fair share of captivating the consumer’s attention. A common occurrence, of course. Yet this was such a great defining trait of Dusk-at-Dawn that tourists on chance clog this mass transit system. The constant commotion made the trolleys a haven for thieves.
In the early morning there weren't many visitors of the trolleys. This suited Ampere finely. Ampere entered the city limits and jumped onto the nearest trolley with a running start; a thud broke out as he landed. Two other passengers existed within his presence. Another thud. He didn't bother. The metallic reverberation pinched the other passengers' ears. The recent third passenger was a foal - though Ampere did not notice it - while the other two passengers were a mare and an elder stallion. Ampere then heard hoofsteps and the accompanying metallic thuds. There was a quick snatch and the old stallion yelped. A young colt, quite small, hopped off and sprinted for the alley. Ampere gave off a quick sigh and ran after the petty thief.
The cold morning air did not dissuade him from chasing the colt. The pickpocket ran for the alley and Ampere followed suit. Most unfortunately for the hooded colt, a dead end stopped him in his tracks. The red brick wall stared eerily at him - he started to panic - and then Ampere stepped steadily towards to meet him. The thief's hind leg touched the wall as he reared and then he stepped forward, with bravado.
"So? What do you want? Can't you mind your own business?"
Ampere stood like a stone wall.
"Not talkin' tough guy? Didn't your mother tell you to stay out of other ponys’ business?"
"The wallet," was the quick reply. "Enough games. The wallet. Hand it over."
"Not on your life!"
"If you give me the wallet now, then I'll forget about this."
"Didn't you hear me the first time? Are you that stupid I said NO!" The colt pulled out a balisong and wielded it with his mouth. Ampere stood like a stone wall.
"Tough guy huh? Let's see how you like this!" and thus the hooded thief rushed at him.
Ampere snorted air briefly through his nose - a beckoning gesture of superiority - and then proceeded to side-step to right at the last second before impact. He artfully positioned his left hoof so that the thief would trip. The maneuver was well executed on such a rash, lowly prey. Napoleon would have been proud.
Capitalizing on the situation, Ampere swung rightly as the colt was still falling. The maneuver had succeeded doubly as the colt was disarmed. Ampere turned his neck and caught the balisong before it hit the ground - the thief was still falling in mid-air.
Time began to speed up again and the crash of the colt's face to the cold, dirty ground signified it. The colt, surprisingly not shocked at Ampere's swiftness, immediately charged Ampere again in a vain attempt to retrieve his beloved blade. Twice, the maneuver worked on him. The colt's hood had been displaced and his face shown an x-shaped scar on his left cheek.
The young colt's reddened spirit diminished as Ampere coolly walked to the entrance of the alley. The wallet had slipped out of the colt's hood pocket and landed at the side of a trash can. Ampere blatantly dropped the balisong carelessly before moving over to the trash can. He picked it up and placed it into his pocket.
The young colt had the strength to get himself up and stabilized himself, and then saw the stallion walking off. The young colt scowled and shouted to him, "Hey! Where do you think you're going? I'm not through with you!" The young colt was furious and demanded a response. Ampere halted suddenly. The thief growled, "You chicken, you're not even going to take me to jail?"
Ampere sighed once more. "I said if you gave me the wallet, I'll forget about this. You're nothing to me now." Ampere continued on to the end of the alley as he left the colt in awe. The colt had never felt this kindness before. His life, one of misery. The shreds of dignity that Ampere so graciously bestowed to him was not forgotten. The colt was no stranger to merciless beatings - in or out of jail. He had the bruises and scars to prove it. Yet just once, he was let go. He looked down at the cold ground. Then, he looked up at the steadily vanishing stallion. Gone.
The colt was intrigued by one of the kindest stallions to ever meet him. He walked to the start of the alley and spied on Ampere's transaction with the old stallion.
"Why thank you sonny!" the old coot graciously sang.
A brief pause. "I was just walking by."
"Oh stop with the modesty!" the old stallion convinced as a thin mist of excess saliva invaded Ampere's face. "We need more fine gentlestallions like you."
"I really must be going." Thus Ampere retreated from the scene.
"Take care now you hear!" as the old stallion concluded and who's voice faded like a distant memory.
These disturbances had brought Ampere to be on time. That was considered late to him.
Chapter 5: Daily Work
Grant's Stationary Company. District A. Office Block One-Dash-One. The front lobby. Room “zero zero”.
Ampere made his way to the office. A security guard, the usual, stood outside the entrance of the stone building. It was an older building that originally housed a brewery. Competition. The owner of Grant's Stationary Company, the unscrupulous Grant Ganache, had bought it out a couple of years back. It was the oldest office in the entire company but ironically was the nicest. The newer, cheaper, and quickly made offices lacked a strong structure and were terribly stifling. Air conditioning only existed for the wealthy elite. But Office Block One-Dash-One, commonly called the "Black Box" for its unique black marble as a building material, was more comfortable than its contemporaries. Blocks of ice, enchanted by the early brewers, melted slowly underneath the building in an underground refrigerator. The magical enchantment also allowed for the ice blocks to not cool the building during the winter thus preventing the office from turning into a virtual ice box. This insulation magic was one of the very few instances in which magic showed its fading face in Dust-at-Dawn. The building proved to be one of the last relics of history that the dynamic Dusk-at-Dawn preserved. In a rapidly industrializing and a technologically advancing environment, the Black Box survived the march of the machine. Dust-at-Dawn was always changing but the Black Box proved to be a rare case. The populace actually wanted it demolished and replaced with another “Model Five Living Quarters Space Conserver” but the stubborn Grant Ganache disagreed. "For the preservation of our history and for the enjoyment for our posterity" was his reassurance. A hint of gold could be smelt from those words.
"Hey Ampere! How ya doing?" the security guard asked.
"It's all right," Ampere replied. He displayed his I.D.
"You're a bit late, aren't you?" The guard took his I.D., did a brief identity check for resemblance (he was familiar), and gave him back his I.D.
"It's a long story, C-L-17," Ampere sighed. C-L-17 was the guard's call sign. His name badge read “Doubt Fall”.
"All right then. You're free to go. Take care."
"Thanks," was the stale response.
Ampere opened one side of the large double doors and closed it as he entered. The front desk clerk, timid little Sodia Lyte, looked up briefly - as if expecting somepony - and saw Ampere enter. Quickly, she looked down at her day planner and blushed. Ampere walked casually to her desk and said, "I'm checking in."
The young filly, in her late teens, adjusted her glasses in a jumbled manner and said, "T-time?"
"8:40 A.M.," he said coolly.
Surprised, Sodia stared at him blankly. She softened her face when she looked at his eyes.
Slightly angered by a lack of action, Ampere demanded, "Is there a problem?"
"Oh n-no sir!" She quickly wrote down the time. She had never asked for his name, only once, the first time she met him, despite her job requiring to do so. She could never forget his name. At the 8:40 A.M. row, she wrote "Ampere Van Current" to the right of it. She took extra care in writing his name. She liked it. It was perfect.
"All righty then. That's it!" she said cheerily. "You're checked in."
Ampere turned to the left and walked up the flight of stairs. But Sodia didn't want him to leave her. It was too soon.
"Oh!" she called out to him. Ampere looked behind him and then fixated on her.
"I-I forgot to say this. Good morning."
Ampere looked at her for a few seconds, then at the floor, and then finally he looked forward and resumed walking to the stairs.
Sodia wore a sad countenance but it hastily transformed into a lustful trance as she stared dreamily at his body. The young pegasus was soaring.
When Ampere reached the second story, his office door faced him. He entered his office, closed the door, and looked around. Same old.
He was lucky to have a windowed office. Though truly he could have done without it, it had helped passed the time. From this post, he could view the ponies about their day. The Black Box overlooked a food court and the many different outlets that the pedestrians visited. He liked that. Just watching over ponies, seeing society at work.
Half of the supplies were standard issue, provided by the company. Ampere brought his own business ledger, journal, and coffee mug - a bright yellow that contrasted heavily with his demeanor. Papers and pencil were, however, on the house. Like there was a choice. Grant's Stationary Company held a tightening monopoly on stationary. Ampere walked around his desk and sat down on his own-bought leather chair. He sighed in relief, as if exhaling his angers of poison from his body. He opened his accounting book which kept the records of the company’s transactions. If the Brown Gold coffee shop wanted paper sleeves with advertisements on it, Grant's Stationary Company would supply them the paper - plus they would print the advertisements or whatever Brown Gold wished. It was Ampere's job to record the transactions - time, amount, parties, etc... In this sense Ampere was a valued worker. He was given decent treatment by the manager and Grant made a couple of visits to make sure he wasn't going to forge numbers and take a dishonest cut of the money for himself. Dusk-at-Dawn did not call their accountants "accountants", rather the title "treasurer" was bestowed onto those whose job it was thereof.
Ampere sat down in his leather chair comfortably. He relieved a miniscule sigh as his rear adjusted to the cushion. He opened his leather bound ledger (Accountant’s Ledger L-88-a Model III Recording Booklet, Silver Edition), provided by the company of course, and then found his bookmark. Putting his bookmark off to the side he scanned through the grid of lines. Page twenty-seven.
“Date: May 24th. Nature of Transaction: Purchase. Amount: 700 bits. Buyer: Grant’s Stationary Company. Seller: United Lumbering Corporations. Notes: None,” Ampere read silently in his mind. He sighed again and then looked at the ceiling. It was a dull grey.
Transaction forms were sent to Ampere via a drop in box. It was situated at the left corner of his office. A conduit ran vertically and horizontally throughout the building like a lattice. The conduit possessed an intricate technology that allowed air to push and pull papers from one location to another. The technology, developed by Aerway Communications, was still in its early stages. Only forms would be the items to be sent. Aerway Communications’s public relations department was building hype about their new conduits that could send larger items, perhaps even food, and that their infrastructure would spread throughout the city. Building hype wasn’t unique to them. Many companies did this.
Ampere got up and checked his inbox. Nothing. He went back to his desk and sat down. It was a three-part desk. There was a front portion and a left and right portion on his respective flanks. On days such as these he was bored. It was nothing unbearable, however. It was the usual.
He pulled out a book from his drawer. “A Tale of Two Ponies”. He opened the page to where the attached bookmark rested and read where he had left off. Twenty minutes passed. He checked his inbox again for forms. Nothing. He returned for his desk and read on for forty more minutes. The book kept him occupied. Historical fiction. His favourite.
It was 9:40 A.M. Relatively early.
“Well, better get working on that report for the Council.”
Ampere picked up a random pencil from his utensil cup - it never mattered for such a mass-consumption society - and titled the paper “Report from District A. Office Block One-Dash-One, Series 109”. It was a biannual report in which the treasurer of each office branch had to submit to the Head Treasurer - a position that was a part of the elite, decision-making body of the company called "the Council".
Ampere opened the drawer on his immediate right and obtained a piece of paper. "Let's see... five hundred plus three thousand is..." he mumbled to himself. Ampere, not a brilliant mathematician but capable, jotted down symbols on the scratch paper as his mind did mental exercising. He did this for about an hour.
10:40 A.M. "Well, that took shorter than I expected." Ampere sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Twenty minutes to lunch..." another low-volume utterance. He looked outside the window and saw the same Brown Gold that greeted him every day since its construction. It had recently been built, about a month ago, and although he wasn't big on coffee, Grant's Stationary Company's employees received a ten percent discount on any item. Ampere's earnings were honest, perhaps a tad on the high side, but he believed in saving. The occasion to go there had never struck him. "Guess I'll go there this time."
Ampere took the finished report and placed it into the outbox. It was immediately sucked into the tube network in which it traveled down to the transportation department. He checked himself over for he preferred to be groomed (a sign of his philosophy of being a civilized pony). Also, there wasn't much to do and everything he could do to pass time he would do. He examined the length of his pencils, flipped through the ledger without much attention to the actual contents, checked the time, tapped his rear right hoof on the floor, sighed and looked at the ceiling, checked the time, etc...
Looking at the clock again, Ampere gave off a small grin, "Finally." He got up, walked to the door, and proceeded downstairs. Sodia had already left for her lunch break. C-L as well. It was quite the coincidence that the three of them had the same break period. Sodia's shift was covered by another pony and the same with C-L.
Walking to the door, Ampere said, "I'm going on break" to the filling-in desk clerk.
Chapter 6: Ground
Ampere was relieved to be rid of that stuffy office. He was accustomed to its boring environment but even he had his needs. The air of Dusk-at-Dawn was not particularly fresh, but it was somewhat better than the office. Smog found its place in the congested streets. Trolleys constantly rang - passersby were alerted and ran - and the chugs of Model T Fjord “Automated Carriages” polluted the air. Away from the roads, the Plaza of Dusk was populated more so with pedestrians rather than clanking machines. Laughter, gossip, and pestering advertisements (hailing from iron lungs) found their homes here but Ampere had filtered them out.
The Plaza of Dusk was one of the two "hearts" of Dusk-at-Dawn; home to a myriad of outlets, recreational spaces, and lively ponies. Street performers danced - whether for cash or passion - as ponies browsed goods from cheap stalls or beautifully-made marble stores. From an aerial view, the plaza's centre was made by a magnificent fountain in which outlets existed on its fringes with due space. This radial design was further split into quarters, with Brown Gold situated on the top right quadrant. Ampere looked both ways before crossing the road in order to get to the right side. The sidewalk would later merge with the plaza.
Brown Gold was not an open-air shop, rather, an inside shop but it did feature outside sitting. It was usually crowded; moderately priced coffee would have something to do with it. Ampere saw an open table outside and assumed that he would have to take it. He stepped inside the shop. He was right.
The shop was crowded and most of the employees were stressed. Ampere waited in line. Patience was a virtue and he knew this. When his turn came Ampere ordered a medium mocha frappuccino and a croissant sandwich. He opened his wallet, paid the mare three bits, and then started walking to an open spot in the shop. However, a large cookie on display had caught his eye and then the asked the clerk if he could buy that as well. He paid her half a bit and then resumed walking to an open spot.
A minute or so later, he picked up his food and went outside. His spot was still open and so he proceeded to sit down and eat his meal. The croissant sandwich wasn't his usual, but he'd go for anything that was hay and cheese. He wasn't much of a condiment guy. The big cookie was individually wrapped in plastic and was tantalizing to eat first. A young mare walked out of the shop with a latte in her hoof and a bag of churros in her satchel. She looked around, distressed, for all the seats were occupied. She spotted Ampere and quickly went over to his table.
"Oh, hey! You're that guy from this morning."
Ampere looked up at her.
"I'm sorry to bother you again, but is this seat taken?"
Ampere stared at her for a short while. "No."
She took a seat but once she did she looked left and right, still apprehensive. Ampere then remembered that she had dropped her bracelet back in the park. He reached in his shirt pocket and held it out to her.
"I believe this is yours."
"Oh! Thank you! I can't believe you'd give this back to me... You've been so helpful to me but I really haven't done anything for you. Your mother must be proud.”
Ampere sunk his head a tad low. Volta took quick notice.
"Oh... I'm sorry."
"It's nothing."
Volta looked around left and right. Ampere said, "You still look worried."
"Oh it's... it's nothing."
"You can tell me. I know that look on your face. You've lost someone."
"How did..."
"That's not important right now."
"But why would you help me?"
Ampere turned his head to the left, then back front. "I'm just passing by."
"I see. Well, whatever reason you have I'm fine with it. I'm glad to be getting help anyway."
"Description."
"Wha- oh, you work fast." Ampere's patience was being tested and he scowled. Volta saw this and hastened her reply. "Oh, well, he's just a foal. Only ten I think - but his biggest physical feature is that he's got an 'x'-marked scar on his left cheek."
Ampere's eyes widened. Realization had come to him.
"He was wearing this black hoodie-”
“I don’t need any more information.”
“But - are you sure?”
Disregarding the question due to his impatience, Ampere replied, “I can’t guarantee that I’ll find him but I’ll try. Meet me back at the park at 6:00 P.M. I’ll tell you if I found him or not at that time.”
“Thank you.”
Ampere scowled, “I don’t need it.”
“I understand that you’re helping me, but if this is a trivial task to you then I can do this myself.” Ampere’s harsh personality was now coming into contact with Volta’s generosity.
Pinned, Ampere replied, “Like I said, I’m just passing by.”
Volta smiled a little, “It’s okay. I know a guy like you would have the heart to help me.” She was satisfied in her little victory against Ampere’s brusqueness.
Stubborn to have the last say, Ampere got up and said, “I’ll be leaving now” as he left.
“Wait! What about your cookie?”
Ampere stopped and looked back at the table.
“Keep it.”
Chapter 7: The Odd Pair
Ampere’s first location to find the colt was the alleyway that he cornered him at. As he started for the alleyway, he remembered that he didn’t ask for the colt’s name but it was of no importance to him. He simply wanted to get this task finished with and on with the rest of his day. Although knowing his name would have narrowed his search options, he decided, as usual, not to make this situation any more personal than it has to be. After arriving at the alley, he stopped and looked around at the entrance.
Hoping not to be ambushed again by the thief, he commanded, “Hey kid! Your mom’s looking for you. Come on out.”
No reply. He ventured deeper into the alley. Once he reached the end he examined the walls and looked behind the dumpsters. Nothing. Ampere sighed.
Ampere knew that he was throwing his generosity out of proportion. He didn’t have to do this. No. He didn’t have to. There existed a shred of dignity in him but he merely dismissed it. It was just another task for him to do and he was a mere passer-by. He didn’t like abnormalities to his normal schedule. A fundamental change, however, would occur in the upcoming events.
Ampere then took a trip to the local trolleys to see if the little thief was resuming his mischief there. After a while, with no hooded colt in sight, Ampere became frustrated and chose to retire. He believed at this point he had given a needlessly large amount of effort for something that was trivial. Ampere took the eleven-fifty trolley back to Plaza of Dusk and hurried back to his office. It was approaching twelve o’clock and his shift ended at that time. Always in a rush to be early, he clocked back in quickly and marched upstairs. Sodia, who returned early just like Ampere (she always tried to find opportunities to see him) was shocked as he displayed a furious but silent temper. She gave off a worried look on her face as she hid her head below the heights of the desk. When he was finally up the stairs and out of sight, she quietly left off an “Oh...”
Going to his office, Ampere gave off a small sigh. He then opened his door. There he was, the hooded thief, sitting in his chair, playing with Ampere’s stapler. The colt starts to stammer.
“Your mom is looking for you.”
“Wait, what?”
“I said your mom is looking for you.”
“You mean... you mean you’re not mad at me? I jus- I just broke into your office!”
“I’m not going to repeat myself a third time.”
“...”
“Volta. She’s looking for you.”
“How-how do you know her? Did you do something to her!!!”
“I have to repeat myself, don’t I? Look, I met her today at Brown Gold at the Plaza of Dusk. I don’t want to have a repeat of what happened this morning so are you coming or not?”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“...”
“Your name.”
“What?”
“Your name. I never asked.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“If there’s at least one thing you can do for me, how about that?”
“...”
“Resistance. Ohm LaResistance. Ponies just call me Resistance.”
“Resistance. Hmm. Seems fitting,” Ampere said, his last breath an utterance.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Yet another pause of silence. Resistance looked around, left to right. Ampere sighed and walked over to his chair. Resistance was cautious and wore a stern countenance. He sat down. Resistance was still worrisome, as he hung over the desk, letting his feet kick back and forth.
“So why’d you do it?”
“What?”
“The wallet. Now this. Did you plan on stealing something from me?”
Resistance’s childish instincts overcame his will and he let spilt the first cracks of truth. “I... I followed you here. To-to your work. At least I’m thinking it’s your work. You’ve got a nameplate, an office, the works.”
“And you planned on stealing something from my office?”
“No! Well, I-I. That was... it was um-it was something I did think about but-“
Ampere sighed, “Look, I don’t care anymore. I just don’t care. If you stole something like a pencil then just keep it. I won’t tell. Let’s just get you back to your mother. Deal?”
“S-sure. Yeah.”
The two began walking outside of his office and began to trot downstairs. Ampere approached reception desk with Resistance cowering behind his moves - like a lost child without a father, hoping that familiar blood would be a source of comfort.
“Sodia. I’m checking out for twenty minutes. Time: 12:04 P.M.”
“But, what for?” said Sodia, amazed that Ampere would deter from his regular schedule. She thought she knew enough of his pattern.
“This kid got lost in the office.” He motioned his head towards Resistance.
“But I’ve never seen him before, how did he get in? Oh, and he looks scared...” Sodia said as she was working up a friendly smile. She picked up a lollipop from her desk and stood up to hoof it over to Resistance.
“What’s your name little fella?”
Resistance took the offering. “R-resistance. T-thanks.”
“Aw, you don’t have to be afraid of me! Why I’m-”
“Sodia.” Ampere severed. “We’ll be leaving now.”
“Y-yes Ampere.”
“Like I said, I’ll be back in twenty. Make note of any messages I get within the period. Other than that, business as usual.”
“Yes sir.”
Ampere left off a small sigh.
“Let’s go now.”
The two headed for the door and trotted off for Volta’s apartment.
Chapter 8: Reaction
The two were now travelling upon the sidewalk.
“So where does she live?”
“The Umbra Lane. We can take the Umbra trolley.”
An awkward silence ensued. It was stifling. The trip on the trolley; the loud clanks and chugs, the people boarding and unboarding, the random chatter - it covered up the silence but it was still there. Resistance had hoped to ask Ampere something. Why him? Why did he bother? It didn’t seem like he enjoyed this so why do it in the first place? The atmosphere was oppressive.
“We’re here.” Resistance and Ampere jumped off of the trolley and began walking down the sidewalk. Finally, Resistance’s eyes lit up as he rushed for the apartment’s door. It was a warm embrace from his previous oppression. He took out his key and opened the door. Ampere was standing right behind him.
“Volta! I’m home!”
Yelling from upstairs, “Resistance, is that you?”
“Yeah!”
“Wait right there!”
Volta came running down the stairs, her mane a tad unkempt. “Resistance!” She gave him a warm embrace, but then gave him a light, scolding push with her hoof. “You had me so worried.”
“It’s okay, I’m fine.” Guilt had seeped into his words.
Ampere was still standing in the middle of the doorway. Volta, forgetful of the guest, said, “Oh, thank you for bringing him back! Thank you so much! Please, come in.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“Really now? After all you’ve done you can’t afford a little bit of hospitality? Oh, and I never got your name.”
“It’s Ampere, right?” Resistance asked. He remembered the name from the office.
Ampere looked down at him, and then at Volta. “Right.”
“Well, come on in!” Volta and Resistance sung as Volta wrapped her right hoof around his neck and Resistance tugging his left hoof. Ampere wore an uneasy countenance, a reluctant face.
“So here we have the kitchen...” Volta pointed towards the right.
“Volta makes a lot of yummy stuff in there. It’s the best!”
Volta blushed a little. “Aw... well, I try. It’s not much but I try.”
The kitchen was a tad dingy. Everything in the apartment was. The kitchen was noticeably small. The counters were littered with random utensils flung here and there. A few paper bags full of groceries rested on the limited countertop space. Ampere remembered them from this morning. His head was caught in a trance, reliving the scene that he first met her. And something else.
Volta was staring at Ampere. She could tell he was meditating on something, thinking about something, but what? “Well, if you’re hungry you could’ve just asked.”
This broke Ampere’s trance. “Right, sorry.”
They walked a tad farther. The room wasn’t big.
“So next we have the living room,” Volta said.
“Hi Volta!” the foals inside screamed.
“Hi kids! How are you all doing today?”
“Fine!” they sung in unison.
“Did you forget your manners? This is Mr. Ampere, our guest, say hi to him also.”
“Good afternoon Mr. Ampere!” The air was filled with a choir of singing foals.
“Good afternoon,” Ampere said stoically.
Some of the foals in there were playing patty cake. One was reading. Some were playing Go Fish.
“The kids love to hang out in here. Sometimes, it’s not always safe to be playing around outside. Helps them stretch their hooves. So over here to the left is the storage room.” Volta pulled the light bulb switch. “We keep a lot junk in there like mops, clothes, and paper. Guess you can call it the junk room.”
“May I go in?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Ampere looked around the small space. He saw a package of paper lying on a shelf. He picked it up with his right hoof and flipped it over. He blew on it to remove some of the dust. He read the information on the back.
“Ream one million, four hundred thirty-four thousand, three hundred thirty-nine dash oh five dash twenty-two...” Ampere said quietly.
“Something the matter?” Resistance asked.
“It’s nothing. There was an upstairs, right?”
“Yes, let’s go there now,” Volta said. Ampere shut of the light and they departed from the closet.
Volta led the way. “Now watch your step. You especially, Resistance.” Volta turned to Ampere, “He always falls on these steps when I come home. Guess he’s just really happy to see me,” Volta joked.
“Hey! I-I I’m just glad the food’s here!”
“Watch it!” Volta warned. Resistance almost fell on his front hooves before Ampere caught him.
“Whew, th-thanks.”
Ampere looked at him for just a pause. “Don’t mention it.”
They reached the top of the stairs. “So on the right side are four rooms. Each room is where they sleep.”
“May I take a look?”
“Be my guest.”
“He already is,” Resistance quipped. Ampere stared at the foal. “Er, bad one, I guess.”
There were no doors to these rooms. Ampere peered inside the first room, closest to him. No windows either. The room he entered was only furnished with a simple, dusty drawer. There wasn’t a bed. Some dirty shirts were littered on the floor. The air - this was the first taste he received from the general atmosphere - was stale. A broken mirror, specifically half of one, was placed atop of the drawer. The drawer only had two shelves and the lower third was missing. There was one sheet and one pillow in the place of the mattress. He moved on to the second room. There was a mattress. It was small, definitely worn, definitely dirty, but there was a mattress. No mirror. His neutral countenance was starting to turn sour. The pillow was slightly torn and some feathers were scattered on the bed. The air was starting to stifle him.
“Volta?” A young filly’s voice wept from downstairs.
“Yes, Demeter?” Volta said.
“I feel better but I think it’s medicine time again...” Demeter coughed.
“Oh dear, let me help you. Resistance, do you mind showing Mr. Ampere some more?”
“Sure.”
“Go to the kitchen Demeter, I’ll give you your medicine there. We’ll knock that fever down.” Volta began her departure down the flight of stairs. Ampere came back to the start of the staircase.
“On this side, we have two rooms. One room is where I sleep in, the other is Volta’s bedroom.”
“Hmm. I see.” Ampere did not dare to venture in either rooms. First, it was a case of privacy. Resistance was standing next to him and he might discovered something that could get him in trouble. If he tried to steal an old stallion’s wallet, what else did he steal? Second, the chances of Resistance or Volta having an extensive décor was out of the question. It would have been near the same of the other rooms. “Thank you for showing me around.”
“No problem.”
“Guess I can go back to work now.”
They both headed downstairs.
Demeter came out of the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around her. Volta followed suit.
“Poor Demeter, it’s always around fall that she gets a fever like this. Did you enjoy your stay Mr. Ampere?”
Ampere took a pause. “Yes.”
“I made some tea for you. It’s not the best, but think of it as a token of our appreciation.”
“You really shouldn’t have.”
“Now, I thought we were over with this? You’re our guest. It’s as simple as that. Now come sit.”
Ampere sat down. Volta levitated the tea to him with her magic. He took it gently. “Thank you.” He blew on the tea’s surface and then took a daring sip. A light hint of mint. That was it. But it was enough to revitalize him. He was used to the bitter taste of pure black coffee but now he had something sweet in his life.
“Well, if you don’t mind me, I have a dinner to prepare. Just tell me when you finish your tea, Mr. Ampere, and I’ll take it up for you so you can be on your way.” Volta began levitating some carrots out of the grocery bags and also levitated a knife. She began cutting them as she turned on the stove. She filled up some water in a pot and put it on the stove. Two foals, a filly and a colt came in, arguing over Go Fish. She broke up the argument - carrots still being cut - and then returned to add salt to the pot. She began to search for some utensils and plates. It was a veritable mess - an orchestra of chaos and order with Volta as the conductor. Magic here, magic there. Crying here, crying there. Ampere had only take one sip of his tea - it was cold at this point. After staring at the mess of chaos, he looked down at his teacup and into his reflection. An orange hue dominated the scene. The surface was wobbly and broke the image, yet semblances were still there. He looked at the hard working Volta and then back at his reflection. He looked at Volta again. By now, in a span of five minutes, she was sweating at her forehead. Her hair became a tad unkempt and without question she was stressed. Something twitched in Ampere’s right hoof. Something. He recalled the dirty, miniature rooms; the terrible living quarters of these kids. He saw a woman working to the death to sustain said kids. There was a fire that grew in his heart.
“Volta,” Ampere said sternly. He was standing up at all fours.
“Yes, I know, I’m- oh, Mr. Ampere? Did you finish your tea?”
“I want to help you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“All of this. It isn’t right. These kids deserve a better life. I don’t want to sit idly by knowing that there are kids suffering in poverty and sickness.”
“Mr. Ampere, that’s quite kind of you, really, but I have everything under control.”
A sharp yet light acrid smell emanated from stove. It was from the Dutch oven and its vegetable contents. In short, her food was becoming overcooked.
“Ooh!” Volta quickly turned down the flames to the stove.
“Look, I’m not going to take no for an answer. The air in this apartment is stifling. I can help you open up anther window. These kids will develop asthma if something is done soon. Let me help you pay the rent, buy some cleaning equipment - something.”
“Mr. Ampere... why? With everything you’ve already done, why help us now?”
There was a crack in Ampere’s outer shell. The warm core sought to spill its honesty yet the shell remained a bastion. A falling bastion.
“I... I don’t want to see these kids suffer.” A compromise was made. “It’s as simple as that. I would ask you, why do you help these kids?”
Volta relaxed her muscles and took a sigh. “I guess I don’t really have any better answer. Same for you, I wanted to help them. I’m not an orphan, but it didn’t seem right to live a comfortable life when others are struggling to survive.”
“It’s settled then. I’ll help you out with making sure these orphans find a safe home to live in.”
“It’s a deal.”
“I’ll be leaving then. I still have work for the rest of the day. I’ll stop by after work, around five o’clock. We’ll have to plan something out. Until then, I’ll see you later.” Ampere started for the door.
“Mr. Ampere?” Volta halted him. Ampere veered his head back. “Thank you.”
Ampere looked forward, sunk his head a tad, and then back to Volta. He trotted a few steps forward before stopping. He took a shallow sigh.
“You’re welcome.”
It was a victory.
Chapter 9: Reverse Osmosis
Chapter 9: Reverse Osmosis
Ampere went back to work that afternoon. Sodia was curious as to where he had gone but she didn’t ask. She didn’t want to be on his bad side. Never did she want to be on his bad side. Ampere, feeling this fresh ambition into his life, worked hastily yet efficiently. The day didn’t feel as mundane. His arithmetic was being finely tuned. When he found out that he had finished his work before his shift ended, he began to read A Tale of Two Ponies. He finished the book later that evening before his shift was over. To keep himself occupied, he started planning his finances. Because of the new financial responsibilities he had, he began subtracting those values from his future paychecks.
Ampere cleaned up his desk and was preparing to clock out. For once, each step - each move - each action was of meaning. His cold and calculating ways at the apartment allowed him to reflect upon himself; deeply enough that he was able to sense his own soul. Still frightened of the past and determined not to relive it, he believed that this was his calling. This was for his mother. The life he never had could be made to others. The torch could be passed.
Ampere clocked out.
“5 o’clock P.M.,” Ampere said.
“5 o’clock... okay, you’re signed out! Have a good night, Ampere.”
“Good night,” Ampere said. It was a neutral tone but it was odd. It felt lighthearted and sympathetic.
Sodia was dumbfounded initially but she began to blush again (as she always did). It wasn’t a compliment, but it was a kind gesture.
She began to pack her things. The official closing hour for the office was 5 P.M. Ampere went for the door and was prepared to head to Volta’s apartment. CL halted Ampere.
“Hey, what’s the rush?” CL was always the one way to engage in a conversation after work. Ampere, treating one of his close friends nicely, engaged.
“Just something to take care of.”
“What? Are you going to buy a new quill for work? Or... is this something non-work related? New girlfriend?”
“None of the above.”
“Now that’s the Ampere I know. Take care.”
Ampere began his signature move: he paused, looked down, looked up, and then back at CL. “You too.” As Ampere began galloping to Volta’s apartment, CL raised a brow.
“‘You too’? Hmm. That’s a first,” CL spoke under his breath.
Ampere arrived at the Volta’s apartment with the disposition of a champion. Or rather, it was the beginning of his heroic journey. He had not yet accomplished what he had set out to do yet he was very willing to do it. He knocked on the door and Volta invited him in. With him was a half a ream of paper to draw out plans. Yet, no army of paper is complete without an army of ink and quills; he had brought them along as well. Volta’s surprised expression at Ampere’s grace, furor, and expertise did not retard his progress. He asked her about the rent rate, cost of food, cost of utilities, etc... Efficiently yet intensively, he was transcribing these numbers and flexing his mental muscles as he calculated with said numbers. Volta, still shocked, watched the stallion go. She made tea again for him. She placed it gently with her hooves this time - she meant it to be special and therefore dashed it with her tenderness. He didn’t thank her until after a quick sip. Mint again. It reinvigorated him. He thanked her afterwards and then went back to work. The night was filled with foal’s laughter, sweat, food, and stifling air. Plans were made for renovation as well. Ampere was no engineer, but using math as a common language for civil engineering, he was able to estimate lengths and widths and calculate area. Using area, he was able to estimate the cost of paint per square inch. He tried to estimate the depth of the apartment’s wooden wall to prepare for his insertion of a window. Perhaps he was becoming overzealous. Perhaps all of his savings would never contribute to drastically transform the apartment to be hospitable but this was his drive. It give his life meaning and relit his inner flame.
It was nearing nine and Volta became a tad worried. Ampere was still working. He didn’t look exhausted but she had a hunch as her dealings with foals gave her this ability. She told him that it was getting late and that he should head home. He reviewed his work and sat impressed. He then looked at his watch. It was time. Volta thanked him but he insisted that she shouldn’t thank him yet. His work wasn’t finished. She assured him that the little foals wouldn’t touch his work - by penalty of no dessert. He acknowledged this and told her that he’ll be back after work and on the weekends to help. She foreshadowed that after all the planning had been finished she can teach him things such as how to cook. He responded coolly with an “okay” and headed off.
Ampere arrived at his house mentally tired but still physically active. The will was there but his mind needed sleep for the next morning. He looked forward to it. No more lifeless mornings - lifeless days. He was recalled to life.
Chapter 10: Momentum
The morning awoke and so did Ampere. He eagerly raised himself from his bed and made for the bathroom. He brushed his teeth vigorously. He quickly changed to his work clothes - a white dress shirt and black tie - and went downstairs to make breakfast. His pantry was low on frivolous addendums such as jam or butter, but he decided to make toast either way. He was rushing to work and toast could be consumed on the move. He gathered his things: a jacket, satchel, keys, wallet, and rushed out of the door.
He was early to his favourite sunrise spot. He began munching on his toast in full, anxiously awaiting the glorious orb to embrace Equestria with its warm arms. He grew a tad impatient so he began to reflect on himself. A form of meditation, one could say. Realization had hit when he discovered how quickly he prepared himself for work. I was surprised at this pace. It was much quicker than before. He thought about what was to come. Volta, Resistance, the orphans, etc... When it dawned on him that he actually enjoyed the mornings, for each day held new opportunities and progress, a beam of light glinted at his eye. Ampere then rushed for work.
At the lowest sense, it was a productive day. It only mattered to Ampere to finish work and to head over to Volta’s apartment. The urge to help Volta made him a slight jittery. Wasting time was unproductive. At the latter end of his shift, Ampere manufactured an idea. He prepped a single sheet of paper and titled it “Dear President Ganache,”. Hungry for work, he proposed the idea taking over the responsibilities of other branches’ treasurers. There would be less ponies to hire - he catered to Grant’s greed - and Ampere has more than proven his worth by being ahead of deadlines. He signed the letter and placed it into an envelope. Before leaving work, he asked Sodia to place the envelope in his outbox. He proceeded to Volta’s apartment.
In tandem, they had decided that food and water were top priorities. They went out that late afternoon to purchase food and water. Water in Dusk-at-Dawn was generally imported as the nearby geography contained no reservoirs and very little rivers. Water was transported by the barrel. Mass consumption of water was primarily through mugs. One would open the lid of the water barrel, scoop water into a mug with a ladle, and then consume. Groceries were sold by stall venders. In the same situation as water, food was often imported. The land surrounding Dusk-at-Dawn was stagnant and infertile. Food from other cities such as Appleloosa or Ponyvile was imported. Ampere went home to fetch his cart and met Volta at the market. Potatoes, carrots, lettuce, hay, salt, pepper, sugar - it didn’t matter; Ampere was buying. They were also lugging two barrels of water. Volta asked if Ampere was all right but he shook it off. The question was redundant but Volta’s innate sympathy was played. When they decided they had enough they carried on home. The foals were glad to see their new food stores but Volta scolded them for trying to pig out. Ampere’s urge to help more was nullified by Volta’s insistence that they had done enough. She insisted that he rest and she invited him to stay for dinner. The foals helped Ampere move the groceries to the pantry and once it became full they resorted to placing them in the cupboards. Ampere took the brunt of the load. Volta kept a watchful on the occasion that one of the little foals may hook a snack or two. Given the cornucopia of food, Volta could not decide on what to make. She resorted to a simple yet filling meal - macaroni and cheese. Finally having the luxury of these ingredients, she wanted to treat the foals out to a delicious meal. She was saving the last sprigs of mint for herself but she valued Ampere over herself. The spirit of selflessness took over her and she wanted to loosen the foals’ taste buds. They had been used to eating stale, tasteless meals but now a turning point was reached. She poured water into a pot and began to boil it. She memorized these recipes from her mother. She had taught her many a recipes and the knowledge thereof was the greatest gift she had parted with her. Needless to say, the dinner was a terrific. The stifling air was replaced with “mmm’s” and “ahhh’s”. Ampere thanked Volta for the meal and decided to leave. Before he left Volta commanded him to stop. He stood puzzled.
“Everyone, say ‘Thank you Mr. Current!” she cheered.
“THANK YOU MR. CURRENT!”
Struck with awe, words escaped his mouth.
“Th-thank you.” The mumbled words masked the soul but the soul was let out.
The days that followed were marked with trial, travails, and tenacity. Through this time of fire, Ampere had learnt each of the foals’ name. As an exchange, the foals began to understand Ampere better. Little Normin, who scraped his knee, came to Ampere eyes flushed with tears. Ampere knew the methodology: find the bandages and apply them. Normin proved to be an inconsistency during the application as his constant kicking and wailing parried Ampere. Ampere, recalling Volta’s method when dealing with Normin, held Normin’s hoof. He told him calmly but assuredly that “it’s going to be all right”. Just like Volta, Normin thought. Ampere stroked Normin’s short mane. Just like Volta, Normin thought. Ampere used his handkerchief to wipe Normin’s tears. As he gently blew on his scrape, Normin clenched his hoof with Ampere’s.
“It’s okay...” Ampere said as he quickly applied the bandage but firmly solidified the bond with a glazing stroke. Normin jolted and clenched tightly but once the vanguard pain dissipated he realized that his worries were for naught. He looked at Ampere, twinkly eyes and all. Eternally grateful eyes. He leapt from the seat and hugged him. Ampere was speechless.
“Thank you Mr. Current!” Normin sniffed. He closed his eyes in the embrace and let out shards of tears.
Just like Volta. No, perhaps better.
It was on another day that Ampere tried his hoof at cooking or rather his continual vain attempt thereof. Volta was slowly teaching Ampere the art of cooking yet this was something he could not master. His soups were deathly boiled.
“No no! You overcooked the vegetables again!”
Volta turned off the stove.
“S-sorry.” Ampere rubbed his neck and looked to his left.
“It’s fine. I’ll cook another batch...”
Yet another day and Ampere proposed the idea that he make muffins. It was a Sunday noon and he decided the foals could use a treat. In the aftermath, it was needless to say the kitchen was a mess. The foals insisted that they help out; Resistance was covered in batter; a thin mask of smoke filled the air; the countertops were messy with bowls of batter, burnt muffins, flour, and crumbs; Ampere was whisking batter vigorously but halted as Volta entered with a gasp.
“Uh...” Ampere stood dumbfounded as he stared at the mare.
“IT WAS MR. CURRENT’S FAULT!”
Volta sighed.
One day, Demeter experienced a bad spell. She was coughing much harder than before and her temperature was reaching extreme highs. On that day - it was a Monday - Ampere was checking in the morning as per usual. Volta had left for work at around 7 A.M. Demeter moaned from her room upstairs and Ampere quickly sought out the filly. He felt her forehead, moist from sweat, and quickly fetched a towel from the bathroom. The dampened towel allowed Demeter a sigh of relief. Ampere hurried himself downstairs to fetch a mug of water for the sick filly. When he went back upstairs, he realized that she was too ill to hold the mug. Demeter started to breathe heavily yet hoarsely. She let out two quick coughs and resumed her laboured breathing. He went downstairs yet again to fetch a spoon.
“Demeter, I’ll spoon feed you the water.”
Demeter coughed and then let out an “okay”.
“Just open wide...”
Demeter gladly sucked the spoonfuls of water.
On the second spoonful, Demeter coughed gently yet with enough force to wet her mouth. Ampere wiped her mouth clean let off a gentle sigh. He looked at the time and realized it was nearing 8 A.M. It was a short panic for Ampere but he quickly made a decisive decision. He wrote a short letter apologizing to his manager that he would not be able to make it. Resistance was asked to deliver the letter to the post office and he left posthaste. His gratitude for Ampere would not go unseen and the debt had yet to be repaid. There was a tear drop that formed at the corner of Demeter’s eye and it fell across the side of her head. When Ampere saw this, he quickly moved to wipe the streak.
“Mr. Current, thank you,” she let out a weak squeak.
“Demeter, you don’t have to thank me.”
“Mr. Current... could, could you please come closer...?”
Ampere walked over to the side of the bed.
“Closer...”
Ampere was astonished yet the filly’s voice was soothingly calm. He went in deeper. His muzzle now hovered in front of hers. She kissed him gently on the cheek.
“Thank you...” It was a soft, trailing thank you.
He softened his eyes at her and lightly kissed the sweet filly on the forehead. This position wasn’t new to him. It was just like his mother kissing him before bedtime. Fears would melt away. And so he wished this upon her. He sat beside her in his chair and watched her body rise and fall for each breath. Time passed and it was nearing lunchtime. Ampere decided to try his hoof at soup again. The emboldened pony, after scoring a successful victory, believed in himself. Ampere gathered his ingredients but took care in preparing the timer. Volta recommended to him to use the timer to aid him - overboiling the vegetables was curse. He poured his heart and soul in to making the perfect soup. While waiting for the soup to cook he was deep in thought.
“‘Thank you’? Why does everypony keep telling me this?”
His mind trailed off and so he began to think about the kiss he gave Demeter. This in turn made him ponder about his mother. How he missed her sweet scent, how he longed for her familiar smile...
Riiiiiinnnnggg. Ampere’s trance broke as he regained his consciousness. Realizing that he was about to overcook the vegetables, he quickly shut off the gas to the stove. A quick whiff later and he deemed it was sufficient. We carefully brought the soup upstairs to still a heavily breathing Demeter.
“I brought soup. It’s about lunchtime.”
Demeter looked to her right. Ampere set down the soup by the bedpost and sat down. Demeter tried to cringe a grateful smile. When she was struggling to grin he placed his right hoof on her stomach as if motioning her to stop - reassuring her strength should be spent on recovery and not gratitude. Having familiarized himself with the spoon feeding method, Ampere scooped from the hot broth and blew on it with tender care.
“Open wide now.”
Demeter opened her mouth and sucked on the spoon lightly. She chewed for a bit and then gulped.
“It’s... it’s...”
Ampere bit his bottom lip. “Dammit, did I mess up again?” he said in his mind.
“It’s... the best soup I ever tasted. Could I please have some more, Mr. Current?”
Ampere’s heart was beating firmly and heavily. The blood of life was coursing heavily throughout his veins. He made someone happy. He won.
At was an occurrence that Resistance had been inconspicuously taking paper from the storage room to his upstairs bedroom. Ampere disregarded the acts and assumed he was drawing. Harmless. At dinner time, he saw Resistance folding a square piece of paper but then as he began to walk by the table to administer the dish Resistance had crumbled the paper up and disposed of it by sitting upon it. With his smile like an angel, Ampere simply shook off the face and proceeded to service more dishes. Resistance looked worrisome at his seat - his experiment failed - and gave off a pipsqueak sigh.
The next day, after the supper debacle, Ampere had tasked Resistance to fetch a small barrel of water - admittedly, he did not believe he was strong enough to carry a full measure. However, in giving this order, he was passing responsibility to the growing colt. Determined to make a stallion out of himself he gladly accepted the opportunity to shine and delivered a brief salute.
“You have your orders. Now go.”
“Yes sir!” It was like a little game to him.
The rest of the foals were put to work. Dusting, cleaning, and scrubbing. Volta believed that it was time for a makeover for the gloomy apartment. While the foals were busy downstairs, Ampere ventured to the upper story. On a whim, he decided to head into Resistance’s room. As with the other rooms, it contained a bleak assortment of furniture and the ubiquitous dust and grime. He opened the door and was greeted with a dark scene. He closed the door behind him. He had brought along a dingy feather duster with him and began dusting off the bedstands. Normin shared the quarter with him so there were two bestands. He finished dusting one and then walked to the other. There were some tattered old books, dictionaries perhaps, that lay lifelessly on the stand. Curious, Ampere sat on the bed and opened one of the grimy books. Inside the front cover he discovered “Resistance” scribbled onto it.
“Beloved...” he murmured softly. He turned the page.
“Resolute...” More page turning. He noticed the pages were fragile and that he had slightly ripped the top of a page when turning. This caused him to gently turn to the pages with care.
“Zygote... Yeah, this is a dictionary.”
Ampere found it odd that a young colt would be reading material like this. Setting the book aside, he cleared the bestand and proceeded to dust off the top. Then, he sat the books back down on the bestand as perfectly as they were originally. His curiosity was piqued. Volta mentioned that none of the foals received any formal education and could not yet read nor write. Resistance seemed to be learning these skills on his own time. Ampere felt that he was trespassing deeply into Resistance’s privacy but his curiosity had led him here. In lieu of making friends, books worked as a substitute for him. He wondered if Resistance had been reading any literature alongside textbooks. Opening the drawer slowly, his eyes soon lit up. The drawer was nearly full of paper cranes. Some were worn while others appeared fresh, their creases still sharp. He squinted his eyes and wore an inquisitive countenance. He picked up one crane, gently, and held it near his eye. He set it down on the top of the bedstand. He lifted another crane and again squinted his eyes. This one was crisp with fine creases.
“Cranes?” He quietly inquired. “What the heck is with all these cranes?”
Ampere, almost in a trance, was carefully examining the detail at the cranes. He held it gingerly and let off a pensive “hmm”.
The door was opened by a humming Resistance who stood shocked at the door.
“Hey!”
Ampere let out a short gasp.
“Those are my cranes!” Resistance felt betrayed. Just when he was starting to warm up to Ampere he had to invade his privacy. It hurt him.
Ampere began in a low voice, “Resistance... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
He snatched the crane from his hoof and then placed it with care back into the drawer. He slip the drawer back in and then glared at Ampere.
“Hmph. Volta told me that it’s not nice to go through other pony’s belongings. I mean, aren’t you a grownup?”
“I know that but-”
Still mad over this transgression, Resistance continued on, “You know, if you wanted to see my stuff you could have just asked. I put it there for a reason.”
Ampere fell silent. He said enough. Resistance, now just feeling a certain guilt, decided to hop onto the bed. There was a moment of silence before Resistance spoke again.
“I was just, I was just coming home to get my wallet. I was so excited that you asked me to fetch the water that I left without picking it up.”
Another moment of silence.
“Hey look, it’s not that big of a deal. I guess I kind of overdid it there.”
Ampere was still silent.
“Hey, Mr. Current?”
“Just Ampere.”
“Okay,” Resistance reluctantly sighed. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing.”
Ampere was thinking pensively about his childhood. He always did that when he visited the orphanage. In the moments of silence, he was recalling a past experience he had with his mother during a time when his father had left them. She always warned him never to step hoof into his father’s office. One time he did. He was digging through his office desk and when his mother found him she had to slap his hoof. It hurt. Ampere began to cry and she realized the consequences of her actions. She lifted him enough for him to stand on his two little hooves and then embraced him. She kissed his hoof that was stained a tinged red. He remember the warmth of the kiss - it caused him to stop crying and then he closed his eyes.
“It’s gotta be something. You won’t even say more than a word.”
“I said ‘just Ampere’ didn’t I?”
“Yeah okay, Mr. Smart Guy.” Resistance shook his head, still unable to budge Ampere. Silence reigned for a short while.
“Hmm.” There was a light tone in Ampere’s voice.
“Huh?”
“Mr. ‘Smart Guy’ huh?”
“Oh, heh, yeah. That one just came to me.” Resistance felt open again. He could have rambled on about how much he loves to trash talk but he didn’t - yet he felt that he could. He wasn’t mad anymore. The conversation was making him feel happy. He was also glad to not be talking to a stone wall anymore. A moment of silence passed.
“Ampere? You still listening? I’m, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was my fault.”
“I kinda get mad at times and Volta and the other foals notice it a lot. I don’t like to get mad. My chest ends up feeling heavy after and my eyes get watery.”
“I don’t like to get mad either.”
“How do you do it? You always seem so... cool.”
Ampere thought for a moment.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that I’m ‘cool’, but... How about thinking of something that makes you happy?”
“Ugh, easier than done. I thought you were Mr. Smart Guy.”
“Guess not.”
Resistance sighed. A moment of silence passed. Resistance, seeing how Ampere was open to him, decided to reciprocate.
“Those cranes... they’re for Demeter. I read in a book one time that if you fold one thousand cranes as a gift to somepony, then that pony can have one wish.”
“I see,” Ampere respectfully replied.
“Do you, do you believe in that kind of stuff?”
He thought for a second.
“There’s always something to hope for.”
Again Resistance did not found the answer he was looking for but looked back down at the floor.
“I just... just don’t want her to be sick anymore. You know?”
“I can empathize with you.”
“Empathize... ‘the ability to understand and share the feelings of another’.”
“You’ve been reading dictionaries I see.” Ampere looked over his shoulder, his muzzle pointing at the dictionary.
“Yeah. Volta says she can’t pay for all of us to go to school so I read books and things myself.”
“She told me.”
More silence.
“I don’t like seeing Demeter sick all the time. I know she gets better in the spring and summer but it’s been the same like that for almost three years. I want to help her. I want to do something good for once.”
“Is that why you stole that old stallion’s wallet?”
“We need money right? He’s going to die soon anyway so-”
“Listen to yourself.”
“I- I know. I was wrong.”
“As long as you learnt your lesson. I gave him the wallet back, too.”
“Thanks. I never really told anyone - not even Volta. You won’t tell her, right?”
“I promise.”
“Thanks Ampere. I really... I really appreciate it,” he said as he struggled to pronounce the “pr” cluster in “appreciate”.
Resistance, being an orphan, and never had a supportive figure in his life. There was Volta but she was busy with other foals. He wanted to be her favourite, and still tries to, but realized that there were simply too many other foals for her to take care of. Plus, she was a girl. Ampere offered something different. He had called him cool because he believed so. He felt a personal connection open between him. It was as if he was a father figure.
Resistance added, “So I never really had, you know, someone to talk to. I never really had, had...
“Hi kids! I’m back! Where’s Mr. Current?” Volta asked, slightly muffled yet audible.
“Um, upstaiws I think?” one little filly replied.
“Oh okay, thanks. You kids keep cleaning now okay?”
“Yes ma’am!” they sand in unison.
Resistance turned his head to Ampere, “I guess we should get back to working?”
“It would be for the best.”
Resistance got off from the bed and walked to the door.
“Ampere?” Resistance halted him.
Ampere stopped. He looked down - just briefly - and then turned his neck back.
“This’ll be just between the both of us right?”
“Stallion-to-stallion,” was his stoic reply.
“Stallion-to-stallion...” Resistance murmured.