A Mother and a Hero
The sun was warm on Ditzy Doo’s coat as she landed on the dirt path leading to her destination, a bouquet of flowers clenched between her teeth. She winced as she rotated her wings, hearing pops as the stiffness of her wing muscles made it hard to move them.
Ditzy could smell the scent of freshly bloomed flowers in the meadows around her, accompanying the scents of the ones she held in her mouth. With a long sigh, Ditzy started a steady trot down the road, her right leg limping all the while. With a glance back at her leg, she knew that on good days, she could jog for hours. That day wasn’t one of those days, and it was only a reminder that she was the lucky one. Her heart ached as she felt each of the pins keeping her back right leg’s bones bolted together. The surgery after the accident had left a near unnoticable scar that was covered by her cutie mark.
With each step, her guts became tighter and tighter, to the point where it was difficult to breathe. No matter how she felt, however, she had to come here. And as she slowed to a halt, she gazed up at the towering archway, built with faded red bricks and rusting iron bars.
Ponyville Cemetery.
The plaque itself was a testimony to the cryptic feeling of the area, especially since the sky had rapidly developed an omnipresent overcast, replacing the blue sky above with gray dread. It was like the Pegasi in charge of the weather knew how she felt inside.
It was the anniversary of an event that had changed her young adult life forever. One that was so engraved into her memories that she could picture it in her mind as if it were happening again.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Ditzy stepped forward through the arch, her eyes wandering over the multitude of graves that dotted the land. As she walked past each one, she wondered what families had been torn apart like her’s. How each individual met their end, breaking many other ponies’ hearts.
Ditzy shook the feeling off, steeling herself as continued through. Despite trying to stay strong, her shell showed cracks as she looked over to names and epithets still shining like new. After seven years of aging, it was hard to imagine that none of them had changed a bit.
She remembered the pony behind each of the names well. Even as the time went on, she never forgot the precious moments she’d spent with them.
Finding the one separate from the others of the group, Ditzy placed down a single rose from the bouquet, holding the remaining lily bouquet in one hoof. The flowers seemed to droop as Ditzy stared at the name and epithet of the grave.
Dizzy Doo
We will remember you, always.
Lingering her eyes on the cold grey stone for just a second longer, Ditzy let out a small sigh followed by a sharp inhale of breath, preparing to speak, but her words catching in her throat.
Sitting on her haunches, Ditzy finally found the words she desired as she gazed up at the grey mass above, “I miss you, Honey.”
Sniffling as tears welled in the corners of her eyes, Ditzy kept on speaking, “I know somehow you can hear me, somewhere up there. You should see Dinky now. Our little muffin’s growing up fast. Sparkler misses you as well. She still thinks of you as dad.”
Ditzy felt another pang of sadness well up in her chest. Seven years Dinky was without her father. Seven years lost because of one tragic day.
Ditzy looked down to the ground at the rose she laid at the base of the gravestone, sighing and shaking her head slowly, “She’s grown to be the spitting image of both of us. My looks, your curiosity for everything she lays her eyes on,” Ditzy let out a short sigh as a tear rolled down her cheek, “I can’t believe she’s already nine.”
“It would have been impossible to raise her without Sparkler. She’s almost like a second mother to Dinky with how much I’m at work.”
There was a sudden shift in the summer breeze causing a patch of tall grass to sway towards Ditzy. She let out a small, forced chuckle as she blinked out even more tears, “Yeah,” Ditzy’s voice was a saddened croak, “love you too.”
Shaking her head, Ditzy looked over to the rest of the drooping lilies she held, “Sorry I have to go, Honey. I need to leave the others their flowers and get home.”
Prying her eyes away from the grave, Ditzy set out placing the five lilies. Making sure that the petals faced up with the tips of the upper petals on each lily touching the gravestones. Ditzy lay the stems of the flowers so they would point directly away from the headstone. Each flower was positioned just right so that they rested above the breast of each pony buried under the earth.
Past friends long since gone.
With sadness weighing her down to the ground, Ditzy set about limping home. She knew that Sparkler had probably fixed lunch by now, and Dinky was eager to see her mom.
Stopping in place, Ditzy turned back just as she exited through the gate. The five lilies and single rose still visible where she stood.
“I came so close to joining them that day,” Ditzy thought. A shiver of fear working its way up her spine. A young daughter would have been deprived of both her mother and father at once. Sparkler, at the time, was still too young to care for Dinky.
Pushing the dark thought of her daughters becoming orphans to the back of her mind, Ditzy unfurled her stiff wings and took flight.
<>~<>~<>
Flying through the air, the air suddenly dropped a few degrees and the depressingly dark sky seemed to rumble with a laugh at Ditzy’s miserable mood. To make the fear Ditzy had come true, the rumbling cloud sent a single, wet drop to hit her on the nose. Right before a loud crack of lightning, accompanied by a torrent of wet rain.
The downpour was intense, Ditzy couldn’t fly over the cloud cover. The rain began to trample the mare down out of the air like hooves made from water. Her now soggy coat and drenched feathers were getting harder and harder to keep in the air. Ditzy knew she had to land and walk home.
Descending, she could barely see the ground below as the rain reduced her visibility. Constantly blinking raindrops out of her eyes, Ditzy’s hooves found purchase on already rain slicked ground. The speed at which she landed causing her hooves to slide in the muck, coating her hooves in wet grass and slimy ichor, before she managed to completely stop.
Ditzy didn’t care. The cold spring rain had her soaked to the bone, shivering slightly as thunder rumbled overhead. Her old injury reared its ugly head, making her limp as the appendage became stiff from the cold rain.
Her thoughts became a drone along with the wind and raindrops, tears falling with them as she trudged through the sudden storm.
Following the slimy trail of muddy earth, downtrodden, Ditzy found her way back to the small house she owned. One she lived in with Sparker, her adoptive daughter, and Dinky, her biological one.
It was a plain white cottage, with a plain white door, and one front window aglow with internal light.
Dinky’s heart twisted into a knot as she shivered her way up to the door. Without a husband, the lights inside did nothing to brighten Ditzy’s spirits. At Dizzy’s funeral it had rained much like it was now. A dreadful downpour of bone-chilling rain.
Shakily reaching for the door handle, Ditzy sniffled and hoped her soaked coat would hide the tears. Dinky staying happy was her mission, and she knew she would fail it if Dinky knew she was sad.
Twisting the knob, a warm rush of heat washed over Ditzy’s soaked coat. It was a bittersweet relief. The cold was only partially gone, as the rain still dampened her coat with a chilling embrace, and her heart still ached.
Trotting inside, Ditzy closed the door with her wing, making sure to knock the mud caked to her hooves off on the welcome mat before running to the bathroom. She had to dry off, or risk wetting her carpet. Beige, that was the color of carpet she had in the living room, where she now was. She had to pass by her father’s heirloom to her, a wooden coffee table that sat in front of a green couch.
Making it to the bathroom, white tile flooring, a sink, a porcelain toilet, and a thick plastic bathtub greeted Ditzy as soon as she made it past the already open door. She didn’t bother closing is as she grabbed a towel from a rack near the bathtub. Using her relatively mud free hooves, she dried off her soaked coat, finally feeling warmth return to her chilled bones.
She embraced the warmth with a relieved sigh, her back right leg no longer feeling as stiff. Smiling halfheartedly, Ditzy mentally prepared herself to face her daughters. Even with all the reminders of the accident, and the fact Dizzy was gone, Ditzy would soldier onwards.
Exiting the bathroom, Dinky’s childish giggles stopped Ditzy dead in her tracks. The sudden sound of unbridled happiness in the raging turmoil was almost too much to bear. The simple, innocent sound made Ditzy’s heart ache even more, crumbling the facade of happiness she had built up.
Exiting the bathroom and back into the living room, the sound of Dinky’s merriment and childish cheer grew. Ditzy tried to take joy in the fact her daughter was happy, but a part of her brain that was so centered on tearing her down reminded her that, of course, her daughter wasn’t enjoying time with her father.
With her head hung low, dejected as inner demons raged war in her heart. Ditzy walked in an emotionally and physically exhausted drone-like state to the green couch, flopping on top.
Seconds passed before two mares entered, causing Ditzy to look up at the sound of hooves nearing. There was a subtle pink Unicorn mare with violet eyes and a purple mane and tail. Three diamonds adorned her flank. Sparkler. Ditzy loved the mare like she was her own flesh and blood.
Standing beside her legs was a curious looking nine year old filly, with a blond mane and tail, like her mother’s. Even her eyes were yellow-gold like her mother’s. Almost an exact copy, save for the small horn that poked through the filly’s mane.
“Hey mom,” Dinky said with loud excitement, “Look at what I’m going to wear for Nightmare Night!”
Ditzy was about to remind Dinky that Nightmare Night was over a month away, but terror, pure unimaginable terror coursed through Ditzy’s veins as she looked at the costume Dinky was wearing.
Dinky did a small hop, squealing as she exclaimed, “I’m going to be just like you,” Dinky ran off down the hall, before the sound of grunting was head, followed by the filly shouting, “I’ll even get your costume box out.”
Why, Ditzy asked herself, Why that, why today? She wailed in agony within the confines of her mind. Everything seemed to slam to a stop as Dinky came back into the room, dragging a metal box that was almost as large as her by the black handle.
Sparkler looked to the box, then to her adoptive mother, “Mom?” She asked, keeping her tone neutral as to not clue Dinky in that something was awry.
Ditzy just stared. That’s all she could do as Dinky finished dragging in the box she usually kept secured in her room, away from her daughter. It was only a few hooves in front of the coffee table, Sparkler standing beside it, scratching her head with a worried expression as she was unsure of what to do.
Dinky turned the box towards the couch and opened the metal latch, before flipping open the lid with a hoof.
“Ta-da!” She exclaimed with a happy squeal. Her happiness lasted until she saw her mother’s face, and she frowned, eyes darting from her mother to the floor in uncertainty, “You don’t like that I wanna be like you?”
Ditzy didn’t respond, she just got off the couch, walked over to her daughter, and wrapped her in a hug. Eyes shut as tears freely streamed out her eyes as she dared not look in the box… but she knew she had to, to see how similar they were.
Ditzy’s eyes darted back and forth between the two unevenly sized sets. Landing on Dinky’s smaller costume, she began taking in every painful detail. Black cloth mixed with reflective yellow, covering the upper and lower halves of her daughter, a facsimile of the same outfit Ditsy herself wore long ago. Four rubber boots covered her daughter’s hooves, and a red helmet with a horn sheath and plastic face shield leapt out at her.
Even Dinky’s mane flowed freely out from under the headware.
Sparkler looked at her mother’s tears, Dinky, and the contents of the box.
How could she have forgotten? Seven years is a long time indeed, but to forget such a defining moment of her childhood, especially one so traumatic, how didn’t she make the connection?
Ditzy hugged her daughter, crying as Dinky began to tear up, “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I just wanted to be like you,” Dinky blubbered out. Guilt and shame pressing down on her as her mother squeezed tighter.
“No, you didn’t make me cry,” Ditzy said as she let go of her daughter and separated from her, trying to smile and reassure her.
Sparkler approached the two, her face curled into a slight frown as her eyes betrayed their own sadness, “I didn’t know, Mom. I forgot what today was.”
Dinky tilted her head at her older sister’s words, “What, does today mean anything special? Is that why you're crying, Mom?”
Ditzy nodded, slowly, trying to let her thoughts catch up with her. Turning her head to look in the box, she quickly began to pull out items.
A red helmet, black coat, and black pants, four hoof boots, and a picture that rested on top a folded blue flag of Equestria. She made sure to set the flag down respectably, allowing for Dinky to eye the photograph taken in grainy color film. The datestamp was over a year before she was born.
Dinky looked in amazement at all the ponies in the picture. “Wow,” she quickly counted, finding her mother in the crowd as well, “Twenty ponies all dressed up like me.”
It was true, each of the ponies in the photo were dressed in black colored clothing and red helmets. The very same heavy fireproof clothing she wore an imitation of. Along with play fireproof boots. She had snuck into her mother’s room and found the box containing her mother’s gear, and used all her allowance to buy the most realistic firepony suit she could afford. Dinky planned on surprising her mother, and kept the secret box a secret from Sparker so she wouldn’t tattle. It obviously had bigger unforeseen consequences than a scolding at snooping through her mother’s room.
“Why do they all look like unicorns, mom?” Dinky asked, noticing the lack of wings, and how all helmets looked like they held a Unicorn’s horn.
Ditzy stared at the photo, all her old friends, and right beside her, Dizzy. Though she knew Dinky wouldn’t know his face.
“It was part of the uniform, Dinky, to make us all look like one another. And when fighting a fire, the weight of our gear would have made flight impossible,” Ditzy said, pain and nostalgia subtly lacing her tone as memories came flooding back. She didn’t know what force compelled her, but Ditzy placed her hoof on the photograph, making sure to point out a particular orange stallion with his black mane sticking out from under his helmet.
“Dinky, do you recognize him?” Ditzy asked, almost regretting the path she was now taking. The path the led to the truth.
Dinky squinted at the image, linking to the photo to other photos she knew. Photos of a stallion she’d never met, “Dad?” she asked slowly, receiving a nod from Ditzy, “Dad was a firepony as well!?” Dinkie asked in excitement. She’d never known her father, but the fact that he was an awesomest firepony meant she could be just like him as well, even though she never knew him.
“Yes, we both were,” Ditzy said with a small laugh, followed by a saddened nostalgic sigh for her departed husband, “That’s actually how we met, and Dinky, he was the greatest stallion ever.”
“What happened to him?” Dinky asked innocently. Ditzy knew she was old enough to handle it, she was nine after all.
Taking a deep breath, Ditzy broke the news she’d held in so long, “He died, when you were two. I almost died as well.” The flag that rested near them was the very same draped over the coffin at Dizzy’s funeral.
“What happened!?” Dinky squeaked in shock. It wasn’t about her father, she grew up without him. The fear was from the thought of losing her mother.
Ditzy looked down to the carpet, her words slow as she thought about how best to tell her the truth, “We were at a fire call, the both of us. We were fighting the flames of this burning warehouse. Your dad, he was as much of a daredevil as he was curious, always the first to go into a burning building.”
Ditzy reached for her nearby helmet, looking at the cracked face shield, scratched red paint, soot covered lettering, and the small drops of blood spattered in the corner of the face shield, “The building wasn’t properly ventilated,” Ditzy kept on, her daughters speechless at the story, “Your dad and five others were inside. I noticed that the smoke was being sucked into the building, and I tried to warn them, I really did, but there was a backdraft.”
“A backdraft?” Dinky asked slowly, unfamiliar with the term as her mother teared up again.
Ditzy nodded for no real reason, feeling the heat of the flames again as she remembered that horrible night. The sound of the fire roaring in the building, the smoke sucking in, then silence save for ringing ears and the sight of nothing but grey.
After what felt like years to Ditzy, she replied to her daughter, “An explosion. I was thrown back from the door, and managed to get hurt bad. That’s why I spoke funny most of your life and walk with a limp sometimes.”
Even years after, Ditzy still fell into fits of slurred speech, no longer had a sense of direction, and could barely fly in a straight line.
“What about Dad and the others?” Dinky asked in a near panic. She already knew in her mind the answer, but she felt the urge to have her guess confirmed.
Ditzy shook her head, drawing Dinky into a hug, “He didn’t make it. I tried to run in and warn him.”
Sparkler joined the hug as Dinky’s eyes dampened with tears, “I know, Mom. You tried and you were a hero, and you still are. I’m going to be a hero when I get older. Just like the both of you.”
Author's Note
Inspired by this image and my own love for firefighting
To those who died in the line of duty, may the flag of your country rest safely in the arms of your wives, and your children follow in your footsteps.
