The School Marm and the Cowcolt
His breath came in rapid gasps as he ran down the board walk. Cheerilee had gotten several hard looks as he pushed his way through a gaggle of mares. 'I should apologize,' he thought as he slowed to a trot. Turning back, the sound of the town's clock tower toll nearly shook him out of his skin.
"Eenope! I haven't got time," said Cheerilee haggardly before he resumed his gallop, "I'll apologize later".
The town halls white washed walls came into sight. Sighing in relief, he again slowed—this time to make sure he was presentable. Stopping outside the buildings oaken doors, he ran a comb through his mane. A sledge hammer stuck the anvil in his chest furiously sounding out like a muted drum through his ribcage. It was enough to remind the out of shape school teacher that he needed to make some time for exercise. Winded as he was, what concerned him more than that was the extra weight he had put on before spring finals.
"Oh how I wish spot reduction wasn't a myth," he said lowly as he eyed his too plump rump. Making over his appearance he found another thing not to his liking. The run from the train station under the unrelenting July sun had put him in a lather. "Not only am I late, I smell like a horse too," he whined.
Sighing, he pushed through the doors and entered town hall. Skin rippled as it met the much cooler air coming from whatever temperature control system the building possessed. Shivering, Cheerilee trudged forward battling the sudden change in climate with chattering teeth. 'Today isn't my day,' he thought.
"How may I help you?" asked a small framed mare from the front desk. She was a dainty little thing with a frosted tipped chocolate brown mane that framed her face. 'She seemed to have an innocent look about her; very much unexpected for the bureaucratic types that usually held positions in places such as this,' he thought. The mare kept staring at him, biting her lip as she awaited his response.
"I'm here to for an interview for the—"
"Third door on the right," she gasped as pointed down the hall way behind her.
"Thank you," said Cheerilee before taking a breath. Suddenly woozy, he shook his head clear of the cobwebs that had formed. 'Why was I holding my breath,' he thought as he took a few steps down the hall.
"Hey!" yelled the mare.
Turning back he saw that a wide smile crossed her muzzle, "Yes?"
"Good luck and welcome to Appleloosa!"
'Maybe my luck is changing for the better,' he thought as he pranced down the hall, a little swagger in his step.
Entering the room he was met by two sets of eyes. One of them only seemed to gaze at him with a passing interest the other locked on him like a remora on a shark. The unrelenting purple orbs belonged to a stallion with blue and silver roan coat.
"May we help you?" He asked in aristocratic tone.
"Uh, yes," said Cheerilee as he puzzled over a sense of déjà vu at the stallion, "I mean, no."
The second stallion in the room, a dirty brown fellow with a gristly unshaven face, looked up from his the paper work he had been flipping through, "Which is it?"
Struggling to find the words, Cheerilee watched as the stallion pulled himself up to his full height. He was big; every inch, Big Mac's equivalent. Looking through half lidded eyes the stallion said again in a gravelly tone, "Which is it!?"
"I-WAS-HOPING-THAT-I-COULD-HELP-YOU-HELP-ME!" Cheerilee spouted quickly.
"Excuse me?" asked the purple eyed stallion as he raised an eyebrow.
The resemblance was uncanny as it clicked into place what was familiar about him as he turned, giving Cheerilee a good look at his cutie mark. Shinning against his darker coat was a silver pitcher. That coupled with his purple eyes and mannerisms, "You aren't Silver Spoon's brother by chance, are you?"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. The larger stallion looked at his companion and then back at Cheerilee with a stupefied look.
"Yes, Silver Spoon is my sister. That doesn't explain why you are so bucking early!" he replied as he narrowed his eyes.
"Early?" trailed off Cheerilee.
"Yes, Early!" spat Silver Pitcher as he fumbled through his papers.
"I thought I was late?"
The larger stallions stone faced cracked, as a deep rumbling chuckle erupted from him like lava from a volcano. And just like lava, his spittle rich blast of air fell on the only thing in its path— Cheerilee. The school teacher took a few steps back tying his best not to break out antibacterial and immediately wipe down himself of whatever nasty things called the giants mouth home. It was a bad habit that Cheerilee had picked up after a few months of teaching: foals were notorious for being germ carriers. Not that Cheerilee was a germaphobe or that concerned with his own health, it was just easer to teach when a student or a teacher wasn't nursing any sort of aliment.
Pitcher eyed the lug dangerously.
"Pitcher, why don't you take a walk to clear your head."
The stallion eye twitched, "Clear my head? Clear my head! I don't need to clear my head." Pitcher pointed a hoof a Cheerilee in accusatory maner, "If somepony wasn't such an early bird I would have had time to prepare. Now I'm at a loss and my schedual has been thrown—"
"Shut up," said the stallion with a deadpan look.
"I will not—"
The look that crossed Pitcher's face as he noticed the steely eyed glare the stallion was giving him made him shut his mouth. Pitcher promptly picked up hip portfolio and walked out the door. The large stallion's eyes followed him until he vanished behind the door. Slowly his eyes drifted back to the job candidate.
"Sorry about that. Pitcher has a good head on his shoulders but if anything doesn't go according to plan he loses his cool. So, let's get this underway."
Leaning forward the stallion leered into Cheerilee's eyes. Reinforcements poured out of Cheerilee's pores, slowly coating him in a fresh lather. The stallion kept his vigil. An involuntary twitch from one of his own ears, cause a shutter to course down Cheerilee's body.
"Do you think you have what it takes?" asked the stallion.
"Well I think I do,"
"I think, don't cover it," said the stallion as he inched closer, "So, yes or no!"
"Yes, oh my God yes!" purred Cheerilee. 'Why the buck did I just purr? I am not that hard up,' he thought.
The stallion leaned back in his seat, "Okay, then. What kind of experience do you have?"
Letting out a sigh, Cheerilee reached inside his saddle bags and pulled out his resume and laid it on the table. He watched as the interviewer nosed open the file and started reading. A few tense moments later the stallion looked up from his reading with a furrowed brow.
"I think there has been a mistake," he said in an apologetic tone.
Clapping his hooves together nervously Cheerilee shakily replied, "Mistake?"
"Yeah, you're not here for the mining job are you?"
"Mining job?"
Laughing the stallion shook his head, "This makes so much sense! No wonder you were early."
"Excuse me?"
The stallion handed the file back to Cheerilee, "You want the room across the way."
"I'm so confused," Cheerilee took the file and stowed it away.
"Listen here, school teacher," said the stallion flippantly, "We don't need your type in our employment so hurry up and leave so I can prepare for a real stallion."
The heat in Cheerilee's ears had reached critical mass as the stallion insulted his stallionhood and his profession in one sentence. He opened his mouth to speak just as he decided the brute wasn't worth the time.
The door shut behind him. A door he may or may not have slammed shut. The sound caught the attention of three ponies who were exiting the room across the way.
"Ahem!"
Cheerilee turned to the offending noise while cursing under his breath to see three ponies looking at him. The tallest of the three was a brown coated earth stallion with a large mustache that had a single eyebrow raised. The only mare of the trio was glaring down her nose. The last of the three was a yellow coated stallion with a head full of flaming locks tucked not so neatly under his hat. A wide smile was splashed across his face as he walked over.
"What's got you in such a tizzy?" asked the stallion.
"Nothing," said Cheerilee through his teeth.
"It doesn't look like nothing," the red head opened the door and looked inside the room to see Stone Pick flipping through some notes.
Taking the opportunity to excuse himself from the situation, Cheerilee walked down the hall. 'I'm such a screw up,' he thought as he walked up behind the receptionist.
"Hey!" yelled the red head from down the hall. Looking back over his shoulder he watched as the stallion trotted down the hall towards him.
"What is it Braeburn?" said the receptionist as she turned around.
Pleasant warmth washed down the side of Cheerilee's neck. It was a pleasant feeling, too pleasant. Turning away from the approaching stallion he found himself almost muzzle to muzzle with the cute mare. Her light brown coat had taken on a reddish tinge and she seemed to be holding her breath. Being that close to the mare, a mare he didn't really know was uncomfortable. Backing up Cheerilee scratched the back of his head nervously; taking another step back his rear as he bumped something fuzzy, which was followed by a dull thud.
Before he could turn around to see who he had bumped into, the little mare rushed passed him saying, "Oh my gosh." Turning, his eyes met the stallion as the mare helped him up.
"Sorry. I'm so clumsy sometimes," said Cheerilee as a light blush warmed his cheeks.
The stallion didn't acknowledge him as he nuzzled the little mare's cheek. It was a cute little scene. The stallion eyed Cheerilee before speaking up, "Look you don't have to be so down trodden about not getting the job. There are quite a few more openings around here."
Cheerilee's blush died down just as he swallowed, "It's not that. I didn't even want that job. I thought I was interviewing for the teaching position."
The stallion's face became slack.
"Oh," piped up the mare, "I'm so sorry I thought that you were here for the mining job, you being a stallion and all."
"What's that supposed to mean," Cheerilee growled.
She started to speak when Braeburn put a hoof to her lips, "Don't mind my little cousin she didn't expect a stallion to be applying to be our school marm."
Cheerilee gritted his teeth as he felt a vain pop up on his forehead, "I don't get it! When a colt or filly is growing up we tell them they can be anything they want to be."
The pair looked at each other and then back at the red pony.
"A stallion can be a professor or a doctor but Celestia help him if he wants to be a nurse or a primary school teacher. A stallion who teaches secondary school is even looked at as some kind of deviant. I don't understand why gender is even an issue. It's the same with mare doctors or mares in the military. I face discrimination because I'm a stallion and my friend Colgate, a mare, has the same problem as a dentist. It's not fair," continued Cheerilee as he stomped his foot in resignation.
"Are you done yet," bellowed the deep bass of the mustached stallion as he approached the monologuing stallion.
Nodding yes, Cheerilee looked at the group in front of him. The receptionist was wearing a weak smile, Mr. Mustache wasn't showing any emotion, the red head was grinning from ear to ear, and the other mare was glaring at him. 'Three out of four isn't bad,' thought Cheerilee.
The red head turned to Mr. Mustache, "How about we talk to him about the job over dinner, I'm starving."
"Fine," replied the stallion as he looked over at the mare.
Rolling her eyes she groaned, "If we must."
"Can I come?" asked the little mare who gave the snobish mare a sheepish smile.
"Can she, Rule Book?" asked Braeburn.
"I suppose," said Rule in a monotone.
"Oh, my gosh, thank you Ms. Rule!"
"Wait," holding his hoof up Cheerilee looked over the group, "I was supposed to meet with you?"
"Yep," replied the red head, "My name is Braeburn Apple," pulling his cousin into a light hug he added, "This little filly is here is Appletini." He stopped long enough to take a breath, "Welcome to—"
A hoof pressed against his lips stopped him from finishing his statement. "I already welcomed him, Brae!" said Appletini with a giggle.
