Cloud's Odyssey

The dining room of the bakery shop must have grown three sizes that night because more ponies arrived in swarms during the unexpected party. The whole population of the town has to be here - young and old; earth, unicorn, and pegasi; stallion and mare - all ponies from all walks of life, rounded up into a small room with booming music and hypnotic dancing. I had no idea how this feat was done, nor did I cared or wished to know. I was in a sea of earthly pleasures, trying my best to dance through the waves of dancers to get to the ringleader of it all, the pink mare named Pinkie Pie. After shoving my way through I found her having a conversation with a few of the party guests. I tapped her behind her back as hard as I could to get her attention.

“Hi Cloud!” she said loudly over the pounding music in the air, “Isn’t this a great party?”

I increase the volume of my voice and answered, “Yeah, the party is great. Listen, I wanted to know if -” My question was cut short when a stranger chose me as her dancing partner. I clumsily try to keep up with her while at the same trying to release myself from her harmonic grasp. I pull her into the influx of ponies and have her involuntarily replace me with another dancer. Free from my tango of imprisonment I lost Pinkie yet again. I’m back at the center of the party, my nervous system refusing to cooperate with my brain. When the guests saw me standing around like a deer caught in the headlights, they turn their attention toward me, chanting my name and stomping their hooves on the wooden floor.

I awkwardly wave my forearms and have my legs follow the rhythm of the beat. I go around in circles, making myself dizzy in the process. The party attendees cheer and feel myself becoming week in the legs. I stumble over, thankfully being caught by the arms of a bystander.

“Whoa there, partner,” the voice behind me said. “That was some crazy dance you did back there. You might need some lessons,” the voice joked. The pony had a voice of a mare with a heavy country accent. I stand on all fours to look at the face that belonged to the voice.

“Thanks, but that wasn’t a dance,” I said, “I was really desperate to get out there.”

“Ah can see you ain’t the one for partying,” the mare said. She was orange with a golden mane that reached around her neck that was hidden under a stetson hat, with a combination youthful freckles on her cheeks and eyes as green as the shiniest of emeralds. She reached her arm out and introduced herself as “Applejack.” I took her as well, and gave her my name.

“Cloud?”

“Yes, there’s nothing else. I get that a lot,” I said. Up until this moment I could not grasp why everypony I meet think that my name is weird. I think it’s appropriate that my name is only a one word syllable that sums up my personality.

I hear an enthusiastic voice coming from the back of the room. The familiarity of this pony’s vocal pattern is what drew me. I excuse myself from Applejack to see who it was. For a second time I politely push and shove my way through the crowded throng of jovial ponies, and sure enough, when I arrived to the back of the room, I saw my friend Lemon Tart attempting to sell his shoes to middle school aged colts.

“You can’t deny that these are the perfect legware,” he said with such eagerness. “These are the classics you can’t get anywhere else. I can see into the mind of a colt such as you three, and I can guarantee all of you that you will never have to worry about a thing if you buy these shoes.”

The colts kept their unsure eyes on the Chuck Neighlors Lemon presented. Their silent debate came to a close when they cooly pass on the offer and walked back to their own group of friends. I approach him after spending part of the night on my lonesome and say, “Still trying to make your mark on this town?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, “there’s always going to be bumpy roads to drive through before the path becomes smooth. I got all the time in the world,” he stated before choosing his next target.

The party went on for what might have been three hours. Eventually, the loud dance music died down and the attendees went home when party fatigue caught up with them. The only ponies left were myself and Lemon Tart, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and two other ponies I didn’t recognize. One was bright yellow pegasus with a long pink mane that covered part of her face, and a white unicorn mare with a dark blue mane that was almost the same length as the pegasus. They volunteered to help Pinkie and Applejack clean up, as did Lemon and I.

Looking at the bakery after the party ended was like stumbling upon a warzone where none perished. There were spots of spilled fruit punch, splats and lines of icing on the floor, not to mention the littered confetti and rolls of streamers. Lemon wiped the tables while I mopped the floor, while Pinkie and Applejack threw away any trash that was left. The pegasus and the unicorn were responsible for setting the chairs and tables in their proper place.

“That was some party, wasn’t it Cloud?” asked Lemon.

“It took me by surprised,” I said.

“That’s how Pinkie throws her parties,” Applejack commented, “they’re designed to be unpredictable.”

“It’s highly considered an honor to have a Pinkie Party in your favor in Ponyville,” the unicorn said.

Lemon bowed elegantly and said, “In that case, I’m highly honored to be among such fine ponies.” The unicorn blushed and giggled just as any mare would do when a stallion attempts to flirt. In this case, I’m not sure if Lemon was actually flirting or just trying to reel her in on his ongoing quest to sell shoes. I can’t really be annoyed by his antics. His purpose in life was to present his product and appeal to the masses, no matter how it is done. Unlike other salesponies I’ve come across over the years, Lemon seemed like the only one that stood out. I saw no malicious intent in the stallion, but I did see a proneness of over-exaggerating certain elements and embellishment of the stuff he was selling. However, I can’t really say anything about him at all - I’m not a salespony, nor would I ever will be.

“Lemon Tart,” he introduced himself.

“Rarity,” she said flexing her hair. The yellow pegasus floated beside and gently stated her name was “Fluttershy.” Lemon took her nervous hoof and shook it with a smile. Pinkie Pie, the mare who threw us the surprise party, manifested herself out of nowhere (which I believe is her recurring theme), giving us thanks for helping her clean the mess of the party.

“It’s like nothing even happened,” exclaimed Pinkie. “Thanks guys! You’re the best!”

“Isn’t this your shop?” I asked.

“No, this is actually Mr. and Mrs. Cake’s shop. I work and live here. I’m watching it for them while they’re away. Isn’t it cool?”

“So where are you fellers from,” Applejack asked. I knew it would eventually come when somepony will ask about my backstory - not that’s there is anything interesting to begin with. I think about what I’m going to say and begin with, “I was born and raised in Baltimare. I worked at a horseshoe factory for a few years until I quitted. I moved here because my neighbors were giving me a hard time and… that’s about it actually.”

“I’ve never been to Baltimare. How is it? Is it nice,” asked Rarity.

“It’s… I wouldn’t say it’s a beacon of culture if that is what you’re asking. We did have a small theatre company and a planetarium that nopony goes to, which is a shame because I love astronomy. That’s about it. I wouldn’t recommend visiting.” I wish I had an acting award to give to Rarity, because she gave the best poker face I ever seen in anypony. Afterward she slightly smiled, trying to not be too disappointed.

“Oh, I see… what was about your neighbors you didn’t like,” she asked again.

“They were eccentric little ponies. So eccentric that I chose to live as far away from them as possible.” Most of us forced a chuckled at my semi honest statement. I try to put a smile on my face, even though the idea of the beatniks that invaded my neighborhood and my job are never happy thoughts. I couldn’t tell at first, but I noticed that one called Fluttershy shifted nervously whenever I talked.

“Well I guess it’s my turn,” Lemon said. “I was born and raised in the city of brotherly love itself, Fillydelphia. I spend most of the days of my youth on the playground before I found my calling in life.”

“What was yer true calling?” asked Applejack. His face was gleaming with pride when he was about to answer her question. "This," he said, “This is my true calling.” As I would have figured, he brought out his briefcase and when he opened, I thought I saw white light emerging from it and heavenly music playing in the background. The four mares gathered around to see what he was referring to.

“My purpose in life is to sell as many of these shoes. Vintage Chuck Neighlors Converse All-Stars, or as I would like to call them, the Greatest Shoes Ever Made.” The mares exchanged confused and bewildered looks to one another while Lemon stood proudly with his briefcase full of shoes. While he continued to talk endlessly about the life fate had given him, one important aspect of our journey hadn’t crossed my mind until now. Where on earth are we going to stay? Would these kind ponies (at least I hope they’re kind) open up their homes for us? Aren’t there no motels we could stay until we find a place? I’m not sure about Lemon, since he’s a wanderer of some sorts he’ll probably leave town once he had sold enough shoes, but I intend to stay here as long as I can. I wanted to speak up but another pony already entered the shop just as I raised my arm.

“Hey guys,” the tomboyish voiced called out, “how’s it going?”

“Rainbow Dash! You missed an awesome party,” Pinkie said excitedly. “We threw it for these

two! They’re new in town!” The pony that just walked in was a pegasus mare with skin that was a lighter shade of blue than mine. Her mane was covered with multicolored stripes, as was her tail, hence the “rainbow” in her name. “New ponies? That’s cool,” she said. “Sorry I missed it, I was racing with an old pal from flight school.”

“I take it you must be Rainbow Dash?” I asked.

“The one and only, and you are…”

“Cloud.”

“... Cloud?”

“Yes, that’s all there is,” I answered. “I didn’t like the name my parents gave me, so I named myself.”

“What’s your real name,” Dash asked.

“It’s too embarrassing to even say it in public, that’s why I changed it to Cloud.”

“You didn’t like your birth name?” a slightly shocked Lemon Tart asked me. “You didn’t tell me that on the train ride here. I don’t know who you are anymore,” he joked.

“We just met this morning,” I said.

“It takes one day, Cloud. It all takes one day.”

“For what?”

“... I don’t know, just trying to be dramatic,” he said.

“Well, Cloud, it’s nice to meet you,” she said as we shook hooves.

“I have one question - was that you I saw flying past my train this afternoon?”

“What do you mean?”

“Earlier, I saw a little rainbow shoot pass the train I was riding. Was that you?”

“If it was a rainbow, you bet it was me!” the proud pegasus exclaimed. “Yep, just leaving my mark everywhere I go!”

Time passed while we took leisure in the bakery shop and I was surprised to learn it was 9:30 pm when I took a look at my watch. I had not known it was this late, however I do have a tendency to not keep up with time. Pinkie decided it was time to close up shop, with the others in agreement. I still hadn’t the chance to say my piece and I really wanted to speak up, until Applejack turned back to the group and said, “Hold on one minute. Do you two have a place to stay?”

“Well.” With the attention now focused on me I begin to stammer. “You see, my move to Ponyville… wasn’t well planned.”

“In other words, you ain’t got no place to go?” Applejack bluntly asked.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Oh dear, that’s terrible,” Fluttershy said. In fact, those were the first words she said to me all night. Most of the time she just nodded and laughed nervously. What was it that makes me so intimidating to her?

“Where are you gonna go?” Pinkie asked.

“I’m not sure. I was going to find a motel or something to stay for a little while until I found a permanent place.”

“I don’t believe there are many motels you could stay at, darling,” Rarity said.

“If that’s the case, how about you stay with me until you get back on your hooves,” the farmpony suggested.

“That’s okay, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense, there’s always room in the Apple house, we always have visitors looking for a place to stay.”

“Well… thanks,” I meekly said. My first day in a new town and a party was thrown for my arrival and pony I might not too long ago opened her home to me. This is more than surreal, this is something completely different. What else will be in store for me the next day, or better yet, in five minutes? Applejack turned to Lemon and asked, “What about you? You wanna come?”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said. “During the party I set up a nicely sized tent right in the middle of town. That is going to be my headquarters for the time being.”

“You’re going to live in a tent?” Rainbow asked.

“Yep, always did when I’m traveling around Equestria, and it has never failed me yet.”

“Take his word for it,” I added. “His entire life revolves around entrepreneurship. He is not going to give up selling shoes for anything.”

“I’ll sleep in a dragon’s cave if I have to,” Lemon said. “That’s how dedicated I am.”

“I wouldn’t want to live in a dragon’s cave at all,” said Fluttershy, “it’s dark and scary, and dragons are so mean.”

“What about Spike? He’s a dragon and he’s not mean,” Pinkie said.

“Who is Spike?” I asked. “Somepony I should know about?”

“Spike is an adolescent dragon who is Twilight Sparkle’s personal assistant,” Rarity explained.

“You mean, Princess Twilight Sparkle?”

“Yes dear, I’m sure you have heard of her.”

“Yes I have. By the way, where is she?”

“She’s off for some royal meeting in Canterlot, but she’ll be back soon,” Rainbow said.

After all was said and done, everypony departed Sugarcube Corner and went straight home for a good night’s rest. The party that was spontaneously created by Pinkie was a nice gesture, but I was never particularly great at huge social events. If the party had at least eight to twelve ponies, I might have managed, otherwise it is on my list of the most awkward events that ever happened to me for no apparent reason.   As I walked with Applejack under the guidance of the stars I saw Lemon enter his tent he was referring to earlier. I imagined how the town’s population would react once they see a tent in the middle of the road in the morning. I also imagined how he will terrorize everypony he sees in an effort to make money off his shoes. I hope he doesn’t go too far on his methods.

It was awfully nice of Applejack to let me stay in her home while I search for a place and a job. I never expected that when I arrived here, especially from a born and bred country mare, no offense to her. I send my eyes to the shining stars in the black sky. Taking nightly walks has been a favorite pastime of mine, especially in areas where there is less light. When I was young, after I had finished my dinner, I always asked my parents if I could walk around the neighborhood. My mother would always say no repeatedly, but my father didn’t mind, as long as I didn’t accidently take a wrong turn into a dangerous part of the neighborhood. Looking at the stars up the night sky, I think of all the different outcomes this day could have taken. What if Lemon Tart never came into the booth I was occupying? What if I missed my stop to Ponyville? What would have happened if my senses never led me into Sugarcube Corner?

“So, have you lived here all your life?” I asked Applejack.

“Yep, born and raised in Ponyville as long as I can remember.”

“It must be fulfilling living in a nice, quiet town like this.”

“Well, I didn’t always think like that,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“When I was a little filly, I wanted more out of my life - I wanted to have the life of my Aunt and

Uncle Orange, rich and sophisticated and such,” she explained. This really took me by surprise. I wanted to learn more about her past, but we were almost to her home. It was same farmhouse Lemon and I passed when we arrived here. It’s obvious that the house next to it was where she lived. We could see brightly-lit light coming from two rooms on the first floor, so it was prevalent it was not bedtime yet. Applejack and I walked the trail that led to the front door, and we passed a field of a thousand apple trees. I was tempted to pick one, but I decided to wait until later when I get her permission. “A lot of apple trees you have here,” I casually say.

“We ain’t called the Apples for nothin’,” she responded. We heard voices coming from the other side of the door when we were close. It sounded like a small child and an adult having a shouting match. “But I’m not tired yet!” the smaller voice whined. “You have to go to bed, it’s way past your bedtime,” the older and deeper voice commanded. Applejack gave a small chuckle over the ordeal.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, that’s just my big brother and little sister at it again,” she answered. “Don’t worry, you’ll love ‘em.” The first thing I saw the moment she opened the door was the sight of a huge red stallion forcing pajamas on the small yellow filly. The little filly did her best to maneuver herself out of the strong grip of the stallion, but to no avail. She let it go on like this for a few seconds before she whistled.

“Applejack, you’re home!” the filly said. She skipped in circles around her middle sibling until sensing that something was amiss. Her answer came into the form of a blue stallion, which was myself. “Who in the heck are you?” she bluntly asked.

“Apple Bloom, that’s no way to treat our guests,” Applejack rebuked. So Apple Bloom was here name? It’s a nice name, for the most part. “Sorry about that,” Applejack said to me. “Cloud, this is my little sister, Apple Bloom, and over there is my big brother, Macintosh. We call him Big Mac.” Mac came up to me and shook my hoof. For a stallion who was considerably taller than I was, I saw a certain gentleness in his eyes. However, I’m not sure what type of pony he is personally, so I have to do my best to be on his good side. “Nice to meet you,” he said in his bass-like voice.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I said as I smiled.

“He ain’t gonna stay here, is he?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Why would ask something like that?” Applejack countered.

“We don’t even know him!”

“He has no where else to go, Apple Bloom, we can’t just him leave out in the cold!”

“I don’t care,” the filly yelled, “he can’t stay here!”

“Cloud is stayin’ here until he can find a place of his own,” Applejack said in a stern and annoyed tone. “And you are going to show him some respect. Now skidaddle up those stairs, it’s time for bed.” Apple Bloom mumbled something under her breath while she marched up to her room. She turned back to me with an apologetic look on her face, as did Macintosh. “I’m really sorry about that, she’s usually not like this,” she said.

“That’s okay. I dealt with unpleasant kids in my life,” I said. “Apple Bloom’s no problem. Is there anything wrong with her?”

“She’s been in a really bad mood lately,” Macintosh said. “She won’t tell us why.”

“Come on, let me show you to your room,” Applejack said. Walking up the stairs, I was given a mini gallery tour of a series of family pictures on the wall. We entered a hallway with walls decorated with apple-related wallpaper. The doors had similar designs on the front, although what was behind the doors may tell a different story. Applejack stopped in front of one of the doors and unlocked it with the key in her mouth. “Here ya go, your room for the time being,” she said. It was neither too small nor too big, and as Goldilocks once said, it was just right. “This is spare bedroom visitors stay in,” she explained, “hope you like it.”

“It’s really nice,” I said. There was a chair and desk combo sitting in front of a window, overlooking the apple tree field and beyond, which was perfect spot to spend writing. On the right side was a bed that looked like nopony had slept in since dawn of time. It was far from dirty; the blankets were neatly folded and the sheets don’t have a wrinkle on them. On left side was a closet, and as I had expected there was nothing on the inside. “It’s perfect,” I said. Applejack smiled and watch me unload my belongings from my giant traveling case and backpack.

“I’ll be downstairs helping my brother clean up,” she said, “if you need anything, just ask.”

“I will, and thank you,” I said. I was left alone in my temporary sanctuary. I didn’t pack many things when I was leaving my home in Baltimare, particularly things like furniture. I couldn’t afford a moving company, so my parents had me put it in storage. My backpack contained personal items, like my toothpaste and toothbrush, towels and washcloths, lotion, and other personal hygiene material. However, my giant traveling case held one of the only things in the world I valued the most: books. Novels, short story collections, comics, poetry, essays, textbooks, all right here in my protective case. Whenever I need a break from reality, or just want to fill my mind with knowledge, books are my one and only passageway. I can’t think of a single book I had not enjoyed. I chose a book from my case and sit at the desk. I bring the lamp close to me as I begin reading. The book I chose to read was “The Journey,” an epic poem dating back to the classical age of Equestria. I thought it might be an appropriate read, given my situation. The hero, Ulysses, has been away from his home and family for twenty years after fighting a war. He faces many obstacles like monsters and gods before he could reach his home again. Granted, my current situation is much smaller compared to Ulysses, but come the next day, I too will have obstacles of my own to overcome if I’m to survive in this strange town.

Speaking of obstacles to overcome, one of them happened to be standing on my front door. Apple Bloom, the youngest of the Apple siblings, was glaring at me with her pretty orange eyes. I knew what she wanted to talk about, but I still put on a friendly smile. No need to get worked up over a pouty filly. “Hello,” I said brightly.

“Don’t play innocent with me, mister,” she said accusingly. “I know what you’re tryin’ to do, and it ain’t gonna work!”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

“You think you’re so smooth, don’t ya? Tryin’ to put the moves on my sister? Well let me tell ya something, Cloud, if that is your real name.”

“There’s a semi-funny story about that,” I joked, “You see, my parents--”

“I don’t care! My sister ain’t gonna fall for your pretty pony act,” she declared, “so you best better watch yourself!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Apple Bloom, let me assure you that I have no intentions on… getting it with your sister. For goodness sake, we just met today.”

“Then why did she let you stay here?”

“I’m guessing you haven’t heard of The Golden Rule.”

“The what now?” I’m not kidding, she seemed genuinely confused.

“You know, do unto others as you would have them do to you?”

“I know what it means! Listen, you better keep your dirty hooves away from my sister, or else I’m gonna have to give you an old fashion Apple Bloom Beatdown!”

“By the tone of your voice, I’m guessing you’ve given others this beatdown of your’s before,” I said.

“You bet! So just watch your flank!”

“Don’t worry, I will,” I joked. She returned to her bedroom not before giving one last “soul-crushing” glare. Fillies will always be a mystery to me. However, I know deep inside that Apple Bloom meant no harm. Like her brother and sister have said, she’s probably having a bad day, or a bad week if I am to guess. I know how it feels to be nervous when somepony you trust brings a stranger into the house. I couldn’t blame her. She will eventually open up to somepony about her problems, be it her friends, her family, or maybe even me - on second thought, I hope she never comes to me with her problems, I refuse to be anypony's psychiatrist. Before I turn in for the night, I read one section of The Journey to myself. I have not read it since sixth grade, and already I feel the excitement of following Ulysses into unknown territories of adventure as though it were for the first time. Opening to the first page, I read the first line, “Sing to me of the stallion, muse, the stallion of twist and turns driven time and again off course…”