The life and times of Lafayette Ryder

Dash falls asleep, her head in my lap, just fifteen minutes after we leave Ponyville. Not to hardcore if you ask me.

I pop in my headphones and skim through my playlists until I find some KiD CuDi to listen to. I chill as the beat flows through me; his voice nearly lulls me to sleep. Absentmindedly I stroke Dashes mane, I remember my dog Duke. I remember what a great dog he was. I remember the seizures he had and the night that they just wouldn’t stop. I remember putting him down myself. I haven’t had a dog since. I look down at Dash, she looks peaceful with sleep. I’m certain that she would never approve of my petting her if she were awake, then again she probably wouldn’t have her head on my lap if she were awake either.

I scoot her off of my leg and she curls up against my side, snoring lightly and unconsciously fluffing her wings. I wonder if she dreaming of flying. Probably.

Dash is out like a light and no one else is in the train car with us so I don’t feel bad as I adjust my iPod to maximum volume and let my music carry me away. I lean back and close my eyes. I don’t open them for another hour and a half.

Music floats through my dreams just as fish float through a river. My random thoughts are given a sound track of sweet sorrow as they shift from one part of my mind to another. Fire and death sink into almost everything I think, whether it’s about my fall to Equestria, my fun with Pinkie, or the angel that keeps appearing before me, they lurk in the background, ready to destroy. Images of the ponies I’ve come to love burn away like corrupted film in an old movie projector, their faces eaten away by a growing orange gash in the screen.

Suddenly all of my thoughts scatter and are replaced by a single vision.

Somewhere between thirty and fifty people, all decked out in black suits or dresses, stand in the middle of a cemetery. A priest speaks, a woman cries. I recognize them both but their names escape me. I feel like a ghostly spectator, watching silently from above the mass of people. At the forefront of the crowd, just beside the priest and the emotional woman, is a large golden casket. I can’t hear a word anyone says as people stand to speak but I can see. I can see the tears on that frail woman’s cheeks, the pain in the priests face, and the picture on a stand. The picture of me standing with the crying woman, holding a baby girl in my arms. Why don’t I remember these people? Why can I see this? Why are they burying me? In my will it says I wanted to be cremated. A flash of heat reminds me, that in a way, I already have been.

The vision fades but I can still see the woman as she kneels next to the casket and weeps. She looks up and I see her face. Elizabeth. The name comes from nowhere but I know that it’s her. Lizzie, Dulcie. My wife, my baby girl, they’re gone. No, no I’m gone and their still there. I’m gone.

Just as my vision fades to black Lizzie looks up once more and lets loose a mournful shriek.

I see no more of the funeral but I hear the shriek, it’s loud and long and won’t stop.

It won’t stop, it never really will.

The whistle blows long and hard, waking Dash and I both up. It was the train whistle, not Lizzie, I tell myself over and over again. For a moment I almost believe my own lies but deep down I know the truth. I’ve abandoned them, and I’ll never be able to go back.

I dry my eyes on my coat sleeve and suck it up; the last thing I need is for lil miss awesome to think I’m lame. I sit up straight and look out the windows.

“We’re not in Kansas anymore Dashie.”

“Wut?” Evidently somepony slept much more soundly than I had.

“Never mind, let’s go get some food, where can I get some good grub in this city?” we gather our things and exit the train, it’s not raining out here but I keep my jacket on just in case. To my surprise my jacket doesn’t make me feel overheated despite its thickness and the heat around us.

“Well, I’ve heard of a place near here called the Bird’s Nest. From what I know they serve Griffins and Hippogriffs so I figure that you can get some meat there.” I notice her shutter at the word, and presumably the thought of my eating, meat.

We walk, well I walk, and she hovers next to me, through a bustling market place to a hole in the wall place with a neon sign of a bird’s nest eggs and all. I guess this is the place.

We walk in and a griffin, HOLY FUCKING SHIT A GODDAMN GRIFFIN, asks us for I.D. he has a thick accent, like what someone from the Caribbean would have. Dash pulls a little black book from her satchel and flips to a certain page with her wing. The griffin looks at it and grunts his approval; he then looks at me menacingly.

“Wut ’bout you brudda? Wut da feck even ar ya?” I pull my Military I.D. out to show him.

“Imma human, bradda and I’m plenty old enough to be here and drink. Age of responsibility where I’m from is twenty one and I’m twenty eight. So let me in already.” Mister birdbrain looks at my I.D. and back to me suspiciously. He shouts to someone behind him in Spanish and gets a short reply. I know what their saying, it’s not good.

“I be feelin’ for ya brudda but I cat let ye in. Dis ere I.D. aint valid neida here nor der so I cat do et. I be feeling for ya bra, I really is.”

I don’t think I can take anymore of this shit or of this guys damned accent so I pull Jeff from my belt. You remember Jeff right? Well I may have modified him a bit at the forge in Ponyville. I may have had Twilight enchant him so that I can shorten and lengthen him at will. I may have turned him into an all out bad ass war hammer. In fact I did do all of those things and I now am pointing him at the griffin who won’t let me in. if this doesn’t scare him enough I also have my pistol on my belt. (My rifle is locked away safely back at Twilight's house.)

“Ow bout dis ‘brudda? You let me in or I bash your head in and then I go in anyway.” I swing Jeff back and forth a bit while staring at the Griffin. It’s a good thing that Dash already went in, I’d rather her not see me as pissed as I am at the moment. I wait another second before raising Jeff in preparation to strike. The Griffin folds, just as I knew he would.

“A’ight brudda, a’ight! I be letting you in now so please don hit meh, please brudda imma beggin ya noht ta do et!”

“That’s more like it.” I lower Jeff, and reattach him to my belt. No blood for you today Jeffrey, not today but I promise some for you soon. Very, very soon. “Here,” I toss a baggy of premium hash to the bird. “I hope that this will be enough for you to find it in your heart to forgive me for all this trouble, have a pleasant day.” As I walk away I hear him shout to me.

“Noht a probem brudda, we cool, we cool. Imma go an mak sure you an you friend get good seats, I promise, best seats en da house for mah brudda. You see.” I wave to him as I push my way through a door and into a smoky restaurant.

Dash is sitting at a shitty table waiting for me but my new ‘brudda’ comes out and shows us to a much nicer booth, which he vacates of its former occupants just for us, and assures us that someone will be there shortly to help us. He pats me on the back and whispers into my ear before he goes.

“Tanks again for da hashish brudda. I ’preciate it ya ear meh, I really do. You eva need meh just call out for teh green wind boys, we’ll ear ya, don you worry, we will. An if you eva be in da mood to uh… do som bizness, you cal fo us. A’ight?”

“A’ight.”

“Wicked. You a cool un brudda, like I say, you eva need meh for anytin don esitate to axe. Be seein ya round.”

My new ‘brudda’ and now homie strolls of back to his booth as a Pegasus waitress comes to our tables and hands us menus. Dash and I both order beers and start looking through the menu.

“So what was all that about?”

“Oh, we had a bit of a misunderstanding when it came to my I.D. but Jeff and Mary Jane helped me out.”

“Who are they?”

“Never you mind. Now what looks good?”

We sit there and skim through the options. I find a delectable sampler of fried sea food and order that, to my surprise so does Dash.

“I thought that ponies were vegetarians.”

“Earth ponies and Unicorns yeah but we Pegasi are half bird. Or was it one third? I don’t frigging know, what do I look like, a dictionary?”

“Yes, a little.” I laugh as she scowls at me. Our beers come and we place our orders. By my second bottle ive forgotten all about my dream on the train and am feeling pretty good. Dash is nursing her brew like a baby, she takes a small sip once every five minutes or so. Ponies may like their alcohol but they sure can’t hold it. Tonight’s gonna be interesting.

Our food comes and we eat. It is beyond delicious. I savor every bite and want more. We leave after Dash pays the bill, as we walk away I hear my brudda call to us.

“Come back round somtine, we always open. My name be Jacob by teh way brudda! Rememba, call on us wheneva you be in need or wanna partay. Be seeing you round mon.” Jacob goes back into the Birds nest and we go on down to the club. I hope that they wont give me any shit over my I.D. but I know that Jeff is more than willing to help me out. I know because he’s told me so.

After another half hour of walking we reach the club. It’s more of an old building that’s been converted to a club than an actual club. Lights shine through boarded up windows and busted down doors. Heavy rock music drifts out and greets my ears.

I got a feeling that tonight’s gonna be a good night.

I look at the Pegasus next to me, Jeff, and Mary Jane (Who’s chilling in my breast pocket, just waiting for a good time.) and then to the club in front of us.

A very good night indeed.