Bravest Face

The whine of the car's breaks fractured the silence between the two ponies. Michelotto gripped the steering wheel tightly; the hardened leather squelching beneath his fingers as he wrung at it with a preoccupied fervor. His fiery passion for science and educating his son was now replaced with memories he was doing his best to ignore, unearthed by the pony he thought he had left in Steelwood. Machiavelli slung his arm out the passenger window, leaning his cheek on it and staring at the chip-sealed pavement below. He ran his fingers across the hot rod's bright-red surface, tracing over patches of white metal that didn't match the rest of the vehicle. Neither of them spoke. Silence hung in the air and meshed with the masculine hum of the engine.

Machiavelli was the first to speak.

"Dad?" he asked meekly. Michelotto remained silent for handful of moments. The light turned green.

"What is it, son?" the car rolled through the intersection.

"Who was that guy back at the diner?" he spoke, looking over at his father. Michelotto's grip tightened again, then slowly loosened. He squinted against the sunlight, which was now piercing through his mirrored aviators, causing him to slow the car subconsciously, if only by a hair. The memories continued to stir within him, now turning his thoughts to the cyan-colored, pink-haired stallion from the diner. All the things he remembered about the one he called Jack.

"Jack is an old friend of mine," he sighed, taking one hand off the wheel. "He and I met during our sophomore year at Canterlot High School. We took all our classes together, so we started studying and hanging out together. We worked all summer together mowing lawns so we could buy this car." The car slowed and rounded a corner, winding down Emerald Road.

"So he was like me and Nikolai?" the colt perked up. The car swung to the left and slowly grew louder, marching up the steep hill on Oak Grove. It rolled to a stop at the intersection, next to the gas station. The brakes whined again.

"Yes, I suppose so," the father said. "He introduced your mother and I during our senior year."

"He got you and Mom together?"

The car roared through the intersection and flew down the road, vaulting across the bridge spanning the Sunflower River.

"That's one way to put it," Michelotto smirked. "I wouldn't say he did it on purpose. He was dating your mother at the time, but I guess she saw something in me that he just didn't have." He puffed his chest out.

"What was it?" Machiavelli scooted to the edge of his seat and leaned forward, resting his head on the dashboard.

The hot rod's engine filled the air for a few minutes. He shifted in his seat and adjusted the crotch of his pants, which had become uncomfortably tight as he reminisced for a moment. He smirked to himself.

"I'll tell you when you're older." He squinted and blinked quickly, clearing his head. "Jack was pretty sore about it for a couple of weeks. He got over it after he cut this car's brake lines one day." He patted the dashboard.

"What happened?"

"I drifted around a corner because I couldn't slow down and got t-boned by a semi that was coming off the highway," he shivered. "Put me in the hospital for a while. The doctors didn't think I would last the first night. They put me under and kept me like that for a few operations and some of the recovery time. When I woke up, your mother was the first pony I saw. She had been coming every day after school to check on me, bringing me things like flowers, or chocolate." he smiled. "She even brought a photo of my car and the truck after they were moved off the road."

"Really?" Machiavelli asked, "This car?"

"Did you know that your half of the car is actually made from parts of that same truck?" the father laughed.

"You never told me about the accident," the colt pointed out.

"Didn't I? That's where I got those scars on my cheeks." He scratched his mutton chops and dug one finger in, pointing to the reddened flesh beneath his fur. His son stared wide-eyed.

"Is that why you have sideburns?"

"Yup. These windows shattered and part of the truck's grill came through my window and smashed me in the face. I almost didn't live on the ride to the hospital. But I guess there were a couple of miracles that first night because I got through it in one piece." He was quiet for a moment, reflecting on his accident. "Mostly." With each whir of a passing car he felt the memories surfacing bit by bit. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, adjusting his sunglasses.

"Then what happened?" the colt asked eagerly.

"Jack felt really bad about it. He met me at your grandpa's after I recovered, and he somehow got his hands on the rest of my car and some of the truck. He and I worked on this car for a few months, putting together what we could. We went to the scrap yard for what we couldn't, and we used pieces of the truck's body to make the skin for that side of the car. That's why parts of that side aren't the same color as the rest."

"Oh." Machiavelli reached out and traced the patches of uneven, discolored metal again. "Cool!"

"Well, after that, your mother and I got married, and after we graduated, Jack and I went to Canterlot University. I got a scholarship to study in the new nuclear energy program that was just starting up. After doing that for a couple of years we graduated and got placed in the Ministry of Energy's new Steelwood plant. We worked there together for about ten years, and then your mother gave birth to you."

"All because Jack introduced you to mom?" the colt wondered.

"More or less."

"Wow."

The car rolled to a stop on Triumph Road.

"I worked at that plant for two more years, and then your mother died." He fell silent. Machiavelli said nothing.

Silence filled the air again. The car continued on its way.

"How did she die, dad?" the colt asked quietly.

Michelotto sighed. The rows of houses that had lined the street slowly morphed into fields and thinly spread farm houses.

"She had just put you down for a nap when she collapsed on your bedroom floor. Jack and his wife were there with us, having lunch. He called the ambulance, but it was too late for anything to be done when the ambulance arrived. The coroner examined her body for signs of a heart condition; cancers, poisoning, everything. In the end he could only say that her heart simply stopped beating."

"Like a heart attack?"

"Not exactly." The car sped up a bit. the passing trees and fence lines swept by quickly. "Sometimes, your heart just gives up. The coroner said it was called 'sudden cardiac death.' Your grandpa told me that our hearts are only given a certain number of beats for one lifetime. And when they run out, that's it. It simply stops."

"That doesn't make sense," the cold sniffed.

"I know it doesn't. I took the next half year off of work, and spent time trying to find answers, but I never did. Some things in life will never add up. We have to learn to live with them, though."

The car slowed and turned left onto Friendship Road. A handful of houses dotted the road leading up to the Elementary.

"After that, I requested a transfer to the Trimble plant that was being constructed back then. I didn't tell Jack, though. I needed to get away from Steelwood. I needed some time alone, and Trimble was the perfect place. Jack wouldn't have understood, which is why I told him 'corporate' moved me out here, and that's the last I saw of him until now." He paused, thinking."I didn't know he had a son though. He never talked about anyone named 'Howe' either."

"Maybe Howe's adopted?"

"Maybe."

The car turned into the Trimble Elementary School parking lot and fell in line behind the other cars.

"Now look, son," he turned to Machiavelli. "I know you don't want to go to school, but trust me when I say it's important. If you keep your chin up, you might even make some friends." Machiavelli put his head down, then looked out the window. He sat up suddenly, then waved.

"Hey, look! There's Nikolai!"

"I know, son. Listen, just stick with him and try to get along with the others. Who knows, maybe you'll learn how fun it can be?"

"Like when you met Jack?"

"Exactly. Now get on out there and make some friends. I've got to run to the plant, but I'll be here to pick you up when school gets out, OK? We'll go to Dice's again and have lunch."

"OK, dad!" The colt opened the door.

"And son?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you." the stallion leaned over and kissed his son on the cheek. The colt reached his arms around his father's neck and hugged him tightly. Michelotto rubbed his son's back and kissed him again.

"I love you too dad."

"And I want you to remember something."

"What's that?"

"I'll always be here for you when you need me."

The colt kissed his father on the cheek, then jumped out of the car, shut the door and skipped over to his friend, sitting by himself on a bench in front of the school. Nikolai looked up and smiled.

Michelotto watched as the two ran to the playground. He turned and gave the car a little gas, easing it forward and out of the parking lot. Turning onto the road again, he continued past the fields of corn and cattle, in the direction of the cooling tower in the distance.