The life and times of Lafayette Ryder

Despite it’s three thousand some inhabitants Haven isn’t that big of a city, with a dozen large apartments in less than one square mile housing every man, woman, child, and pony living here it’s actually quite small.

Twilight and I take a leisurely stroll to one such of these apartments, complex four-b to be exact, and buzz ourselves in. We walk up seven flights of stairs to get to the right floor and the pass forty two doors on our way to the McCommics’ home. I rap on the door, three simple taps rather than my custom tuned knock, and stand back as it swings open.

A red-eyed, mild aged woman, Beatrice McCommic if I recall correctly, opens the door and embraces me in a sudden and somewhat violent hug. I pat her on the back gingerly as she cries into my chest.

“Is he dead?” she asks in-between sobs. “Did you kill that bastard yet?”

“He was hung earlier this afternoon and I buried him myself just before coming here, I assure you he is dead and gone.”

“Thank God he’s gone,” Mrs. McCommic prays, “I sure do hope he’s burning in hell. So why is it that you’re here Mr. Governor?” she asks, prying herself away from me and wiping a damp eye with a used tissue and sniffling as she does.

“I was hoping to speak to you and your daughter; I may be able to help you both out.”

“Oh, of course, come in Mr. Governor, you too Miss Ryder.” She holds the door for Twilight and I. “Take a seat anywhere you like, oh, would you like something to drink Mr. Governor?”

Twilight and I sit together on a plush, blue loveseat and accept the proffered drinks.

“A glass of cider please, if you have any.” Twi asks politely.

“Certainly Miss Ryder and what would you like Mr. Governor?” Beatrice asks me again.

“A beer if you have it, if not then anything cold and wet would be greatly appreciated.” I tell her. She smiles and walks into the kitchenette to fetch us our drinks.

‘Miss Ryder?” Twilight mouths silently at me. I just shrug my shoulders and turn back to Mrs. McCommic as she returns with two bottles for us.

“A cold cider for you Miss Ryder,” she hands Twi the darker of the two bottles and shies away when Twilight grabs it telekinetically, “um, and a beer for you Mr. Governor, I hope Peirce Brother’s is acceptable.”

I take the locally brewed beverage and thank her.

“That sounds delicious,” I say as she sits down across from us, “before we talk about my idea I just have to ask; what’s with the nicknames? I’ve heard four or five different people use the same two for Twi and I today and I’ve never heard them before.”

“Uh,” she stutters, “nicknames?”

“Mr. Governor and Miss Ryder.”

“Oh those?” she chuckles half heartedly. “I’m so sorry, that’s just a running gag about you two, some of the kids call you that jokingly and most of the adults have picked up the habit. Oh I do hope you’re not offended by my saying it.”

“I’m not easily offended but-”

“But,” Twilight interrupts me, “why am I called “Miss”? I’m married; I should be called Mrs. Ryder if nothing else.”

“It’s a bit of a complement dear, you’re so much younger than Mr…” she looks up at me for the correct name.

“Just call me Lafe.”

“You’re so much younger than Lafe when it comes to human years that people joke that he’s a cradle robber and call you “Miss” because of it.” Beatrice explains.

“I kind of like that,” Twilight giggles at the nickname, “but why do you compare ponies to humans rather than the other way around?”

“Well-”

“We can discuss that later Twi,” I cut in, “for right now I just want to talk to Mrs. McCommic and her daughter about the issue at hand.” I turn back to Beatrice and sigh. “I’m sure you’re aware of my magical abilities,” she nods, “One of these powers is to make people forget things, if both you and your daughter consent to it I can erase this whole unfortunate mess from everyone’s minds and it will be like it never happened.”

“Yes,” she immediately agrees, “I’m sorry to seem rushed but yes, as long as Jenny gives you the OK you can go ahead and do that. The last thing I want on my baby’s mind is that dreadful man or the horrible things he did to her. She’s in her room, down the hall, first door on the left, you can go talk to her now.”

I down the remainder of my bottle and follow her directions to a pink door with a Justice Beiber decal on it, oh man that chick is a dyke, I don’t get why so many people like her especially considering how badly she sings. Whatever, who even cares about shit like that. I knock on the door and hear a quiet response to enter. I open the door and walk into a preteen wasteland of frilly pink and poofy purple. I had expected some girly shit but I hadn’t expected this much. On second thought I hadn’t expected Jenny to be a nine year old either. Well that changes some things dramatically.

“Hello Jenny, I’m-“

“You’re Lafayette Ryder, the governor, I know you,” she interrupts, “you were there when they started the school I go to, you were here helping people when mommy and me moved in here, you even helped me carry a suitcase in that was too heavy for me. Thanks for that by the way”

“No problem.” I tell her.

“So why are you here… other than…that…”

“I have a possible solution to that actually and your mother has already approved it.” i'll tell her Gerald's words before I erase all of her memories of him, I'm a man of my word even if I am a troll.

“What’s that?”

“If you want me to I can erase that incident from your memory permanently. I’ll also erase it from everyone else’s. It’ll be like it never even-“

“Yes! Do it now! Please!”

“OK, I will but first I need you to tell me about it.”

“Why?”

“I can’t erase a memory if I know nothing about it and I really don’t want to make you forget that it happened but remember bits and pieces of it.”

“Ok then…well it was two nights ago, he came over to talk to mommy but she was out buying groceries so I opened the door and let him in. he asked me if I wanted to play and when I said yes he…after he did that I ran to my room but he followed me and caught me and… I started screaming and he started hitting me. Gerry stopped by like he always does and saw it and called Mr. Towery to come help and then-”

“Wait, what did you say?”

“Mr. Towery came down-”

“No, before that.”

“Gerry stopped by-”

“Gerry…as in-”

“Gerald Bloodsworth, I call him Gerry.”

“So then who… hurt you?”

“I don’t know, all I know is that Gerry heard my screams and called for help.”

“Why was Gerry there?”

“He stops by sometimes when mommy’s out, we play tag and he takes my pictures and sometimes he even gives me massages!”

“Is that so…”

“Yep, and he stopped by, he had said something earlier about having a “special gift” just for me. I think he had stopped by to give me that gift when he heard what was going on.”

Things start to click in my mind and I realize the mistake that was made and the consequences of it.

“Jenny, you said you didn’t know who hurt you, can you describe him for me?”

“Uh huh, he was almost as tall as you, really strong and muscully, he had a, um, what do you cal hair around your mouth like this?” she draws her fingers all the way around her upper and lower lips.

“A goatee?”

“Yeah, that! And he had dark skin, not like yours which is all tanned but not like mister Davis, whose skin is black, either. The guy’s skin was more like Mister Davis’s skin if he poured some bleach on it or something. Oh, he had really curly hair too, it went down to his neck, and he wore a fancy gold chain. That’s all I remember.”

I sit and stare silently at Jenny as she gives me a perfect description of a man I know well, of a man I called a friend of mine, of Fish.