The sun was shining in Dodge Junction. The cherry trees were growing just right. Cherry Jubilee stood at the railing of her front porch, trying to stave off the feeling that she might be a member of the walking dead.
Quite understandably, that tended to happen when one died and then undied. Cherry had crashed a wagon off a cliff and nopony had conveniently appeared to save her. But that was water under the bridge and it was like the accident had never happened. Cherry wasn’t a unicorn herself and didn’t have the first idea what sort of spells it must have taken to make that little transition, but it was done, she was still above ground, and hadn’t eaten any brains. Yet.
Speaking of transitions, her husband Braeburn opened the door just then. His cousin Applejack had introduced the two of them. When Braeburn’s town had been destroyed by a stampede of buffalo, he’d needed a new place to live. Not to mention a new body to body. Most of it had been stampeded just like most of the town.
The whole metal exoskeleton thing took some getting used to, but Braeburn was nothing if not an Apple, and the Apple family were practical folk. There was surely some PTSD involved, but Braeburn was at least a functioning member of society. Not to mention a lot stronger than he had been. Overall, the transition had surprisingly little impact on his daily life.
Speaking of transitions, Merry May appeared just then, walking up from the barn with a bushel of cherries on her back. She used to work for a moving company and was now gainfully employed by Cherry and Braeburn on their farm.
One time, Merry had been murdered and dismembered with her parts being mailed to various ponies. Her brain had become the wetware CPU of an advanced artificial intelligence used in a combat aircraft. After getting her robot personality block deactivated, Merry convinced a passing scientist to instead transplant her brain into an organic body. The only one available was that of a dead, synthetically-created, red, white, and blue alicorn mare who also had an enormous penis and had blown the top half of her head off in ritual suicide following a loss in a presidential election.
It was more complicated than it sounded.
“Good morning,” said Braeburn. “You’re up early.”
“I wanted to get done with the hauling as soon as I could,” said Merry. “The sun gets a little warm later in the day.” She indicated the glass braincase that replaced the missing top half of her head.
While Cherry was dead, Braeburn had gotten close to Merry. He’d led the ethical charge to get her personality reactivated, so while she had still been a seventeen ton metal killing machine, she was at least horrified to be so. Then, she’d gone organic again and someone had brought Cherry back to life so Braeburn had his wife back.
It was a little awkward for the three of them, but Braeburn moved back in with Cherry. Merry had nowhere else to go and so they’d taken her in as farm help.
Cherry still didn’t quite trust that there was nothing between Braeburn and Merry. But Merry’s outsized male genitalia combined with Braeburn being more uptight and heterosexual than a straitjacket made of uncooked spaghetti gave Cherry some reassurance.
That morning, Cherry stayed in the house to manage the business’ books while Braeburn went to work in the orchard. While cherries were a bit different than apples, he was still an expert bucker and kept the fruit raining down from the trees.
Merry wasn’t a natural at farm work, but she knew how to transport things and had a strong back. The replacement alicorn body was mostly responsible. Merry used to be a pegasus, and while she wasn’t quite as agile as before, her longer wingspan made up for it in thrust. She didn’t have a horn to wield magic, though, considering she was missing the top half of her skull. Not that magic would have been much benefit in an earth pony-run farming operation.
With some hard work, the two of them finished up the day’s work before noon.
“I’ll get these to market,” said Braeburn, hefting a couple of bushels of cherries into a wagon.
“Braeburn?” called Cherry from the house. “Can I talk with you about something?”
“I can go to market instead,” said Merry.
“If you’re okay with that,” said Braeburn.
If Merry hesitated, she would start thinking about all the things that could go wrong with this plan. Instead, she said, “Just give me a moment to cover up.” She hurried back to the house to grab her dress. It was roughly the size of a tent to ensure maximum coverage.
Rarity, in Ponyville, had made it. She’d known Merry for quite a while and was sympathetic to her plight. Unfortunately, being Rarity, there was no such thing as utility. The dress only attracted attention.
Back outside, Merry hitched up the cart with the cherries and pulled it into town. She had been around Dodge Junction long enough that she knew the place, and being a small town, the locals also knew her. She was hard to miss.
Merry wasn’t comfortable being huge, but that had less to do with her size and more to do with the attention it drew. Most townsponies only came up to her shoulder. She was actually more graceful than most might think, however. She’d downgraded from being a seventeen ton killing machine, after all.
Still, it was sometimes nice not to have to pay attention where she was going. The street into the market cleared in front of her as if by magic.
The town seemed busy today. The new mayor had promised increased productivity. It was a little unclear how that was supposed to be achieved, but perhaps the townsfolk simply made a show to get him to shut up. He was that kind of pony.
Merry walked up to Cherry Jubilee’s fruit stand and began unloading the cherries. Then, she walked around the other side of the counter and lay down. That put her just about on eye level with any potential customers.
Then, she settled in to wait. Hopefully business would be bad and she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.
“Monster!”
Cherry and Braeburn weren’t sure which one was being called, and ignored the shout at any rate. With practice, slurs faded into the background as if they were wind or bird calls.
They walked through the hospital on the way to their appointment. Earlier that morning, Cherry had told Braeburn about a consultation she’d made with the local gynecologist. As a supportive husband, he wanted to go along.
Thunder Downunder was a foreign doctor, who nevertheless was Dodge Junction’s only gynecologist. She seemed uncomfortable as she read Cherry’s medical history chart. The silence in the room grew between the three of them.
Cherry glanced at Braeburn. He took her hoof. Cherry delicately cleared her throat and asked, “So, do you think I can conceive?”
Thunder shook her head. “I have no idea. I mean, how many zombies are there out there? I guess I could do a physical examination, but that would be uncharted territory for a lot of reasons, gynecology actually being one of the least. How am I supposed to know what’s with you? Your body could be something entirely unknown to medical science. There could be something completely crazy going on like vagina dentata or whatever.”
“Va-what?” asked Braeburn.
“I mean, if I stick my hoof up there, how do I know it’s not going to get ripped off?” Thunder went on.
“But,” said Cherry. “Do you think I can conceive?”
“Is his penis covered in metal too?” asked Thunder, gesturing at Braeburn. “For protection? I mean, I guess it doesn’t really matter. If he really wants to have sex with you and you really want a foal, then by all means try it out.”
What little of the skin on Braeburn’s face not covered by steel plates turned red. Cherry, however, seemed hopeful. “Thank you for your advice, doctor.”
Thunder walked them to the door. “All I can say is good luck, and I hope you don’t really have teeth in your uterus.”
It might have been better if she hadn’t said it in front of the ponies in the waiting room. Cherry and Braeburn hurried out.
Back at the market, Merry was serving her first customer. High School was the local teacher, and honestly, a bit of of a hippy wackjob. There had been numerous rumblings around Dodge Junction about finding someone new. Small farming communities were not particularly known for progressive ideas.
The upside was that High School was incredibly tolerant of everyone, particularly a perversion of nature like Merry.
“I have a new lesson plan today and I hope I could get your help,” she said as she bought cherries. “We’re talking about the brain today and I remembered that you’ve got a visible brain so I was hoping you might help me with a little classroom demonstration.”
“I don’t know,” said Merry. “I can think of a lot of ways that could go wrong.”
“I’m just about to go to the school this morning, but come by after lunch. You know how kids love gross stuff.” High School paused. “Er, not that I think it’s gross. But you know how kids-”
“I got it,” said Merry.
The rest of the morning passed slowly but not without decent business. The cherries were all sold by noon. That was a mild surprise, but not an unwelcome one. With all the fruit gone, Merry could leave the market early.
Merry loaded up the wagon with the empty baskets. She hitched herself up, but then paused. High School would be disappointed if she didn't show up. With a sigh, Merry instead turned for the schoolhouse.
She got looks as she walked. Ponies whispered about her. Those that hadn't seen for themselves had at least heard the rumors about what was hidden under her dress. And even the visible part of her was enough to inspire gossip.
Merry ignored it. It almost got boring after a while.
She arrived at the schoolhouse. There was a chalkboard out front with yesterday’s date and the lesson listed as “reproduction.” Apparently High School had forgotten to update it for today’s lesson about the brain.
She was just about to knock on the door when someone shouted “Look out!” and several hundred gallons of water fell on Merry’s head.
Spiffy Sandals was an incompetent weather pony, which was why he’d been assigned to a place like Dodge Junction where not a lot of rain was scheduled. It seemed that he’d just dumped the entire town’s allotment for a week right where Merry happened to be standing.
She pulled her limp mane out of her face and gave him a pained look as he hesitantly landed near her, careful to keep his hooves out of the mud.
“Um…” He put out a hoof hesitantly and then drew it back. “I could maybe help you.”
“I’m not sure how,” said Merry. Somehow, she’d never felt more completely soaked, even when taking a shower.
“Let me...maybe stir up some wind and dry you out?” Spiffy suggested. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
Merry opened her mouth to tell him to stop, but he was already zooming in circles around her.
The wind picked up, pulling Merry’s dress tight and leaving nothing to the imagination. She frantically tried to pull it away from her body, but it was impossible to pull it every direction at once.
“I’m going to go get more wind!” said Spiffy. Merry was a pegasus herself and didn’t know how that was supposed to work. He flew away. She was still soaked and the still-whirling air around her hadn’t stopped.
It was just then that she realized an official party from the mayor’s office had arrived. Was it school inspection day? The one thing the mayor loved was inspections, because it meant he got to yell more than usual.
“What are you doing here?” the mayor demanded. He wasn’t very fond of newcomers, freaks, or both.
“High School wanted me to give the kids a biology lesson,” said Merry.
“I never liked High School,” the mayor spat. His eyes drifted to the sign behind Merry. Reproduction. His eyes went to her wetly translucent dress that she was still fighting with.
Merry could see the misunderstanding brewing in his mind. It wasn’t the first time. She was getting pretty good at seeing them coming, but still working on the part about defusing them beforehand.
Braeburn and Cherry were back home, talking about their future together.
“Honestly, the worst part was that the rumors actually beat us to the market from the hospital,” said Cherry. “It only took us two minutes to walk there!”
Braeburn nodded silently. It was a phenomenon he had seen before and could not for the life of him explain.
He changed the subject. “Speaking of the market, did you notice Merry there?”
“No. Do you think she finished early?”
“If she had, I would have thought she’d come back to the farm. I don’t know where-”
Merry suddenly burst into the house, slamming the door behind her and bracing her back against it.
“Pitchfork mob,” she said, by way of explanation.
“Well, I’m glad this time they aren’t coming for me,” said Cherry.
Braeburn nodded. “I know that feeling.”
Author's Note
This has been a side story of the Dreams Series
