Nothing Special

I’ll spare you from the piteous length of consistent visits to Rosettasound’s home across town. In short: we made visits nearly weekly because my mother was rekindling her friendship with Rose’s mother and they each still thought there was something between us. Unfortunately, they are all too dense. Either that or I am a better actor than I previously realized.

After the terrible turnout of the first week of book club, the chaperone resigned. Ma graciously filled in, and now my mother had complete control of the book club. Being in town, Ma decided it would be an OK idea to finish the walk across town to Rose’s house. Once Note caught wind of this happening he made sure to tag along on the trips to book club.

Whenever I went to Rose’s I was left alone and bored. I’m not saying she’s not a good friend, just maybe to someone else. I mean, she definitely tried to entertain me during my visits, but she could have tried harder. Basically it was all about her new music. Eventually she found the money for a game machine. I had no idea what game it was, but Wave was informed and apparently invited. Basically, everypony else had more fun at my “best friend’s” house. I wouldn’t complain though, that’s not really me. Besides, I had a book to read, or to write, and with everyone else busy without me I had plenty of time.

Anyhow, I told you I would not go through that whole, depressing percentage of my life, so I won’t.  Back to the topic of the book club? Very good.

As I stated previously, the original adult present at the book club meetings gave up at dealing with the lot of us for some reason I was never given. Ma had Pa staying home with nothing to do, and he wasn’t a terrible parent, so he had the chance to babysit. Stone is there, too, but let’s be honest, he won’t be much help with the kids.

Note and Wave didn’t have much to do at the library, since they weren’t part of the book club. Note spends most of his time reading the comic strips in newspapers. Wave sat in the back reading actual comic books.

The book club is as eventful as ever; and by that I mean Fashionista and Penny do most of the talking, about anything but the book. Ma tries to get us to reminisce on the events happening in our little piece of literature while Mint and I converse about the events occurring in our own lives, or the lack thereof.

Somewhere within the meetings, Mint is reminded that I am somewhat of an author and instantly requests a work. She gives me no specifics regarding what she wants, leaving all the imagination to me, which can be both a good and bad thing. Leaving it all to me gives me the opportunity to include anything I want, But without giving me anything, I won’t know if she’ll like it or not.

“Just make me something adventurous,” she begins, “with plenty of humor, and not too much romance.” Should be simple enough, I actually have a story involving much of what she requests, but I don’t exactly want to use something that big for her. No, that one is going to be a work that will make me famous.

“Okay, cool,” I tell her. “When do you want it?”

“Just, try to get around to it, and get it to me when you’re finished, Okay?”

“Got it,” I promised. I had never been good with deadlines, so I’m glad she insisted I take my time.

Book club continued weekly with no real summation or destination in sight. We’re basically told to read so far in the book before the next meeting, and we’re discouraged from reading ahead and spoiling the story for everypony else. I’m pretty sure Muriel has already finished it, but she’s not spoiling anything. She doesn’t talk much, so that must be fairly simple for her.

Conversations with myself occur more often now, with so few ponies to talk to, and they come to such impromptu subjects. Once, I found myself in a deep conversation about potato chips. Having not had one in over a week, that kind of conversation is not exactly expected. Another time, on a long walk home from book club, I had trouble keeping track of where my conversation was going, or where it had come from for that matter. It went something like this:

When do they actually place these roads?

I think they just mark them, and they get so beaten down they are eventually just dirt.

What if they actually have jobs for spreading dirt into roads?

That would be stupefying.

Stupefying?

Yes, s-t-u-p-e-f-y-i-n-g.

Well, that’s quite a word.

I wonder if any other words rhyme with it.

Mesmerizing? No, not quite.

What made you think of “mesmerizing?”

It rhymes with “stupefying.”

Almost, remember?

Thanks for reminding me.

I wonder who came up with all these words.

I wonder who decided to spell them the way they’re spelled.

They were probably the same person.

Then someone decided to write them all down into a dictionary.

That was probably the same person as well.

It might not have been!

“Ben?”  Maybe it’s “bean? “

I kind of pronounce it “bin.”

Bin?

At that I suddenly wonder what kind of thoughts could have led to this single word, and begin thinking backwards and back to the dirt road business. From that another conversation persists.

Anyway, I’m probably boring you now. I know, big lack of actual story going on right now. Let’s get back to that.

One afternoon, on our way out the library, Ma comes to me with some big news:

“I’ve been speaking to a few of the librarians recently,” she began, “and they have told me about students that come to the library regularly for home-schooling.”

“Yeah?” I press. She had told me she would be home-schooling me, but she didn’t really know much more than I did. I had studied a few extra things since leaving school, but I hadn’t pushed myself like before I left.

“Well, the librarians told me that some of the students have eligibility to graduate early.”

I grow suddenly interested, slowly getting to what she’s saying. “So you’re saying…?” I trail off so she can finish before I make a possibly far-off guess.

“I’m saying you have the possibility to graduate,” she pauses, “soon.” She emphasizes “soon” to make a point I apparently wasn’t getting. Technically, my guess was on the money. Graduating a whole year early!

“That’s incredible!” I don’t quite shout it, but my voice is definitely a little louder.

“Well, technically,” she continues, “You would get a ‘Graduate Equivalency Diploma,’ or ‘GED.’”

“Yeah,” I inform her, “I get it. But really, that’s incredible!”

She makes a sort-of sad-looking happy face for me. She knows why I’m so excited to actually graduate: it’s so I can move on to college, or at least into an actual career. I’m not entirely proud of it, but my vision is fairly similar to that of my older brother Chat’s: I want to move out. I want away from the family to pursue my own future. This upsets my mother because I’m the last one with any sense, but that’s what happens; the smart ones leave.

My whole plan is simple: I want to move into Manehatten and get a job for Bridleway, even if that means being the gopher, or the intern, or whatever. I want to work there to increase my chances of handing my scripts in to a superior authority, so I could finally have one of my own plays on Bridleway! If that doesn’t work out, I’ll hand the story over to a publisher nearby, and have it printed into a book to be read nationwide! I’ve planned for many – if not, all – back-up plans for this to work; I’ve looked up every big publisher in Manehatten, I’ve researched the history of successful play-writes from Bridleway,

I’ve even memorized when they’re hosting auditions for new actors. I know I have to really try extra-hard for this, since nothing really works out for me the way I expect it to.

I only had it coming.

Anyways, I stood there, in front of Ma, thinking of my future and how fantastic this news was. Now that I am really going to graduate, I can get into things that I have planned for. Lots of places won’t accept drop-outs.

I give my Ma a hug. She hugs me back and for a good eighteen seconds, I am reminded how comforting a mother can be, or even just a hug. Even simple, gentle contact with another pony has the ability to lift my spirits, if only for a minute.

She lets go and asks me, “Do you want to go to Rose’s?”

I look down, my smile fades, and I shake my head. She must know something is wrong, if she decided to ask.

“That’s fine,” she smiles as I look back at her, “some other time.”

She walks past me to break the news to Wave and Note. Once she leaves my side, she is replaced by Minty Swirl.

“Y’know, if you ever really needed a hug, you could’ve just asked me.”

“I never thought I would need one.” We look at each other, the same sad, lonely expression in our faces. “Not to mention I suck when it comes to asking about private stuff like that.”

“That makes sense,” she rolls her eyes, and smiles at me.

I smile back. “My mother has just presented me with gratifying knowledge involving the now possible pursuit of home-school graduation via Graduate Equivalency Diploma. I have been given the inconceivable opportunity to graduate a year ahead of my class and pursue a higher education and/or a basic employment and increase my chances for an efficient future.”

She laughs. I know she likes it when I use big words and sound official like that. “An inconceivable opportunity if ever I saw one.”

We laugh at each other for a bit. Then she goes silent, as if realizing petrifying knowledge. Perhaps she has assembled the truth behind the big words; that I will be leaving home. This is what I come to as she lowers her head. She inhales to speak again, perhaps to wish me luck and attempt to cover up the sadness she feel. I place a hoof on her shoulder, stopping her from speaking. She looks at me with the same sort-of sad-looking smile as my mother. I return with a reassuring smile, at least that’s what it’s meant to be.  I hug her then. My eyes closed, I embrace the simple gesture as the first, most meaningful hug between the two of us.

After twenty-two long seconds, she lets go. But before she walks away, I tell her, “Y’know, if you ever need a hug, you can just ask.”

She laughs again and brushes by me just as my family makes it to me.  I hold my gaze where she was standing, longing for her to fill the absence. Note bumps my side, breaking me from the trance. I quickly have a thought; why? Why was I feeling like that? I shouldn’t be getting so attached on one pony.

There’s nothing wrong with a little affection.

It is when there’s no need.

C’mon, she’s a filly and you like her. You want her back because she makes you feel whole.

Don’t make up stuff just to prove a point.

Are you saying you get the point?

I’m saying there is a point; I’m not saying either of us gets it.

Basically you’re saying that you don’t want to love this filly because you’re afraid of –

I’m afraid of getting heart-broken again.

You’re afraid of that? Just because it happened one other time?

How long have you been in my head?

*sigh* Fine, I get it. You’ve had friends abandon you left and right. Does that mean you shouldn’t ever trust anyone else again?

It means they’ll have to prove a lot more to me than one hug to get to me.

What do you think she would say if you told her that?

She definitely wouldn’t have the same opinion of as before.

Exactly, so why not just –

Why not just keep myself protected? Look, I know you don’t really get it, and I don’t get that, but whatever. Nothing you can say will change my mind. I have been through enough to know how and when to keep a secret.

…Been? Ben?

Been is equal to Bin! Now leave me alone.

Coincidentally, just as I think this, Wave bumps into me and asks me a question as if he had asked me three times previously. “Do you think Rosettasound would dedicate a track to me?”

“Forget it Wave,” Note interrupts. “He’s somewhere else right now.”

It suddenly occurs to me that we have been walking for some time now, and idle banter has carried on between my siblings as I blindly followed. While walking, I can trip Note for saying that, but I don’t. I simply speak up. “I’m really not the pony to ask.”

“Oh that’s right,” Note goes on, “you’re still sore that you’re girlfriend doesn't pay attention to you anymore.”

I bite my tongue. When did he get so sassy?

“Note,” Ma chides, “don’t say stuff like that.”

“Quite frankly,” I input, “I’m surprised he finally managed to put it all together. I've only –“

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” Note raises his tone. “It’s only the most obvious thing happening since the sun came up.”

“Note!” Ma keeps trying.

“Really, Note,” I try to combat. “Listen to your mother. She knows more than you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I bite my tongue more. There is just no arguing with this kid, he leaves no plausible entrance to combat.

“If you know she doesn't like you any more, why do you go?”

I scream at him. “IF YOU’RE SO IN LOVE WITH HER, WHY DON’T YOU GO THERE YOURSELF?!” I get the thought that we’re still in town, but when I look around, we’re in the front yard. “You've obviously been getting along so much better than I ever managed, rub it in my muzzle a little more and go live with her!”

“Why don’t you?!” He shouts back. “Why’d you ever stop trying?”

I bite my tongue, thinking I've gone far enough already.

“I know why, because she fell in love with Wave!” Note points to our older brother, who suddenly looks up in confusion.

I bite my tongue harder and clench my eyes, imagining myself taking him out with impressive attacks and throws.

“She stopped giving you all her time so you gave up. You figured you weren't what she really wanted, so you stopped trying.”

I feel tears squeeze between my eyelids.

I hear him inhale deeply and finish his thought. “She came looking for you a few weeks ago. When Ma and Pa were away, she came over here asking for you.”

“I never asked her to,” I say. “She came looking, but not because she wanted to be friends, and go back to the good old days. No, she came looking for someone to work with her. She doesn't know what it takes to be a good friend.” I choke up at the end.

“Sounds like you’re just avoidin’ her ‘cause of one bad time.” Stone calls from the porch. I glare in his direction and see him there with Pa and everypony else, watching.

When I see them all there, I start laughing. I shake my head and close my eyes. “This is quite a family, huh? Standing by, actually watching while two brothers fight.”

“Don’t be mad at us, Page.” Pa steps off the porch and tries to come to me, his broken foreleg slowing him. “Be mad at yourself.”

I swallow a lump and try to speak. “I’m always mad at myself. I’m mad at how I've made mistakes, at how I've disappointed ponies, how I’m never good enough.”

After some silence, Pa speaks up again. “Good.”

My eyes break open. What?

I look at him, and just shake my head slowly. Then I walk away. I walk right past all of them and inside. Ignoring commands and invitations to stay and talk. I walk right to my room and barricade the door. I sit in the middle of the room and cry. No sobs, no weeps, no sound. I just cry, tears falling from my eyes, staining my spectacles, pooling on the floor. I sit and breathe deeply, loosing tears from between my eyelids one by one, for hours and hours. I don’t think anyone comes to my room. Especially not to apologize.