Chapters Chapter 1- Reveille, 1 Oct 15 (r2)
Rapid Transit met his granddaughter, Silver Strider, at the door to his modest house in Alexandria. With her were her twin six-year-old children, Silver Spiral and Silent Flight. ”Thanks for taking in these two, Granddad.” she said after pleasantries were exchanged.
“Hey, you and Coppertail deserve some time alone together. I don’t mind watching after these two. You going to bring me some more great-grandkids after you get back?” the old unicorn said with a smile to Silver Strider’s blush and the kids giggles.
Silver Strider gave her grandfather a kiss. “I’ll see you next week.” She said to him before looking at the kids. “Now, you two behave!”
“Yes, Mom!” The two chorused. She hugged the children before hurrying off, projecting a telegate ahead of her and going through.
Rapid Transit took the kids inside and showed them to the guest room, where the kids divested themselves of their saddlebags. After that, the twins, a unicorn and a pegasus, gang hugged their great-grandfather. “It’s been a long time since we last saw you, grampy!” said Silver Spiral, the young female unicorn.
“It’s only been six weeks since you were last here, kids.” Rapid Transit said with a smile, nuzzling them both.
“That’s too long to wait before seeing you!” exclaimed Silent Flight, the male pegasus.
“I know, kids. So, what would you like to do before Great-Grandma gets home?”
“We want to hear your stories about the beginning, Grampa!” the twins chorused.
Rapid Transit smiled. “You like my stories, eh? Come on, let’s get some milk and cookies into you and I’ll talk your ears off!” Once the three were settled, he started to talk.
It was the silence that woke me up.
Normally, I sleep with a radio on, a habit started when I was a kid, with my parents having a radio set up tuned to WOR at night, and reinforced by my time at sea, when the silence caused by the stoppage of the ventilation system meant I had to get up and head aft to see what had shut down the reactor.
I woke up to hear not Ned and Connie from KTAR on my bedside radio, but to the steady tick tick tick of the battery-operated clock on the bedroom wall. Opening an eye, I saw that the clock-radio display was off. The sunlight trickling through the blackout blind (so I worked nights… in the desert, it better than being up in the day) allowed me to see that the power was indeed off, my wig-wag persistence of vision clock still and dark. Okay, so the power was out. Not unknown, but annoying. I decided to get up and see if my father was all right, the old man having a lot of health and vision issues.
It is said that every man is allowed one mistake every day that is free of consequence from the universe. For many folk, they use it by getting out of bed. I think I had a serious backlog built up, because I found myself falling out of bed, my arms and legs not working as they were supposed to, cracking my nose against the night stand. After a few choice words (which I shan’t repeat here for fear of burning young ears) I managed to get to my hands and knees, or so it felt. My eyes focused to see my nose had become more prominent than before, and it was a silvery-gray color, one eye being shadowed by something on my head. Wobbling, I managed to crawl to my bathroom door, which has a nice big mirror on it. That was my second mistake in a minute or so.
Looking back at me from the mirror was a small silver-gray horse, with a purple and white striped mane hanging off to one side, and a similarly colored tail. A silver horn protruded from the horse’s brow. I tossed my head, the horse tossed its head. I raised a hand, the horse raised a purple hoof. My ears, and the top of my head, were white as new snow. “Capobianco, indeed.” I snorted, my name being Dominic Capobianco, which means ‘white head’ translated from the original Italian.
I shut my eyes and took stock of the situation. Okay, somehow, I have been changed into a small unicorn. Fortunately for my sanity, I have been a gamer since I was in my teens, and I’m nearing double nickels. I have gamed out situations in games I have run that were pretty bizarre, but turning into a unicorn was not one of them. I told myself not to panic and take stock of things, biting my lip as I thought, which led to another shock… I had teeth, my last natural ones having fallen out for good a couple years back. “Okay”, I thought to myself. “So, changing into a unicorn gave me my teeth back.” I looked myself over, finding I had lost a lot of weight (okay, so I was bigger than normal as a human, and liked it), my eyes didn’t need my glasses to see clearly (20/200 vision in right, 20/400 in left), and most importantly, my right foot did not hurt! I have been off work for almost two months because of plantar fasciitis in my foot, which made merely walking from my room to the kitchen and back so painful, I would beg my online friend in Texas to come out to see me, with his machete, and cut my foot off above the ankle. The only reason I didn’t ask my father, a retired butcher, was because I didn’t trust his aim.
“So, changing into a unicorn cures all ills.” I muttered as I looked myself over, liking what I saw, except for the purple in my colors. Purple was my best friend Jenny’s favorite color, she having died suddenly a couple of months before.
I decided to check out the house, to see if Fathead, er, FATHER, was all right. Getting out of my room was a challenge, there not being much room between the bed and the dresser to get out the door, but I made it, nosing the key ring lanyard hanging on the doorknob into my laundry basket to keep the door open. Jenny had given me those keys on my birthday a couple of years back, for luck. The living room was empty, door hooked open to let the cat in and out while fathead was awake. A terrible smell came from the kitchen, like something had long since rotted to a new form of life. I took a deep breath and held it, to go through the kitchen to the back of the house, where his room is. The room was there, but he was not. He wasn’t in the bathroom, either, and I knew he was not outside, because the door was hooked from the inside. I headed back through the kitchen to the front room, rearing back to knock the hook out of its eye with my horn.
My battered old truck still sat in the carport, though the tires looked a little soft. Some buds were on the saguaros outside the house, which was the next clue to me that some time had elapsed. Last I remember, it was the 23rd of May, and I was looking forward to the Coca-Cola 600 the next day. There were no flower buds on the saguaros last I saw, and they don’t appear overnight. My next problem was to see if I could open the door. Took a while, but I made it. That’s when I realized the key was still on my key ring, which is attached to my pants, which are hanging on a hook in my room. Getting the door open with a hoof was bad enough, now I had to see if I could turn the key, not to mention getting IN to the truck and closing the door, then re-opening. After a few choice words in Italian, Polish and Russian (words which I won’t reproduce here, because I don’t know how to spell in Russian and Polish), I went inside to get my keys, which by itself was a chore.
By the time I got my keys, gone back out, get IN the truck, adjust the seat so I could see, bend my tail some so I wouldn’t yank on it, and manage to get old Zira started, considerable time had gone by. I was hungry, thirsty, and in general annoyed at the world. I managed to pull out of the carport without hitting a post, and went around to see what I could see, which was a whole lot of nothing. No people, no cars on the road, no power, and not many open doors. I cruised north to the Fry’s up on Bell Road to see if anyone was there. Only four cars in the lot, and they all looked like they have been sitting quite a while. Pulling up in front, I put Zira in park and left her running while I got out (okay, FELL out is more correct) and went to see what I could see. No lights on inside, and the doors were shut, despite the sun being high in the sky. So, frustrated beyond all reason, I went up and KICKED the damned door. The curse of an Italian heritage, Neapolitan father and Sicilian mother adding up to a long-burning fuse on my temper, but the explosion when it does go off resembles Tsar Bomba.
“What’s Tsar Bomba, Grampa?” Silent Flight asked.
“A real big bomb the Russians set off a long time ago. The biggest H-bomb ever made.”
“I hope I never see you get mad, Grampa.” Silver Spiral said seriously.
“I hope you don’t too, kids. I scare me when I get that mad. Now, where was I?”
Picking myself up off the concrete after faceplanting myself, I stared at the door. “Damn you, iceberg, I’m going to MOVE you!” I snorted as I set myself to attack the glass again. I felt a tingle go through me and out my horn. I saw a silvery light go from my horn tip to the lock on the door. After a couple seconds, the lock turned and the doors slid apart. A gust of unbelievably foul air came out, the only rival in my memory being the time they dumped a porta-john truck that had been sitting through a hot Arizona summer. The neighborhood by the shop stank for days!
When I came to, the sun was farther to the west and the smell had gone from indescribable to desperate measures level. Being hungry and thirsty, I could say I was desperate. I pushed myself in and headed for the drinks aisle in the back quickly. I found I was in luck, everything being there that should have been. Nosing over a bottle of water, I bit the end off it and drank greedily, making quite a mess, but it was worth it. After my thirst was slaked, I went over an aisle or two and found the oatmeal. I loathe oatmeal, but something told me that would be the best for me, so I managed to break open a few containers and enjoyed my first meal in a while.
“Why didn’t you use your hooves, Grampa?” Silent Flight asked.
“Because at the time, I didn’t know how. I had just woke up as a pony. I was still thinking human, and my hoof training came later.” Rapid Transit explained.
Sated, I thought on what to do next. Getting a cart or a skid would have been a good idea as I came in, but I didn’t think of it at the time. So, I went hunting for one, and found it in the back, by the bakery. Took me a while to clear the remains of bread and whatever off the thing before I put my shoulder to it and started pushing it back to the cereal and water aisles to load up. Along the way, I grabbed some sugar, spices, and cat food. Why I did at the time, I couldn’t say, other than simply it being a habit to grab some whenever I went shopping.
I managed to get the skid back to the entrance, the pungency from produce now more bearable. Next problem- getting the stuff from the skid to the bed of the truck. I sat down to think. Since I used whatever it was, call it magic, to open the doors, why couldn’t I use it to put the stuff in the truck? Pretend the magic was a pair of hands to load the stuff. Whaddaya know, it worked. The water, food, and other stuff I had gathered was engulfed in a silvery glow emanating from my horn. I thought ‘up’, it went up, and into the bed of the truck. I thought down, and the stuff went down. “So that’s what TK feels like.” I muttered as I managed to get back into the truck. “Glad I’ve played some TK’s in the past.”
I guided faithful old Zira (a 2002 S-10 with over 250,000 miles on it) back home, parking out on the pad instead of in the carport. The door was standing open as I had left it, and there was someone sitting there waiting for me, my cat, Sethra, an older gray tabby I had picked up a few years ago. She looked much leaner than before, and had a scarred ear, but she was just as imperious as ever. I got out of the truck and looked at her. “Kitty cat, pretty cat, how my pretty silly cat?” I called out. She trotted down the steps and over to me, rubbing around my ankles (or whatever you call them, my sister having been the horse lady, not me.) and looking up with a ‘where the hell have you been’ expression. I rubbed her with my nose before picking up some water, oatmeal and the bag of cat food in my silver glow. I brought them inside, carefully climbing the stairs and in. Once settled, I opened a bottle of water and poured it in her water dish, which was dry. As she went over to lap some up, I opened the bag of food and filled her bowl. She was definitely happy, I could tell.
The next thing to do was to dig up my phone, which I had left hooked up to the charger. A nosing of it had it turn on, to show ‘Oct 1 2015 4:00 pm’. “October first!” I exclaimed. “Talk about pulling a Rip Van Winkle!” A line from an Allan Sherman song I liked came to mind. ‘But that big hunk of liverwurst has been there since October first, and today is the twenty-third of May.’ Okay, so the dates were reversed. I thought it fit. Next chore was to bring the place to some sort of habitability, meaning open all windows I could and hope that a breeze would come along and help relieve the heat, which I was starting to notice now that I was thinking about it. The simplest thing would be a nice big chunk of ice, but how would I make it in the ninety-plus degree heat of an early October afternoon in north Phoenix, Arizona?
I sat down to think and think hard, but sideways. Unicorns have magic, I’m a unicorn, ergo I must have magic. But what KIND of magic? Sure, I have a form of telekinesis that is good for lifting and fine manipulation, but how could that help me cool off? I thought about my games, especially the one I have been playing since before my nephew was born, and that was over thirty-five years ago. Ray of Frost, maybe? Getting up, I dug a pot out from its storage place and poured a gallon of water into it. (It’s a BIG pot, one Fathead loved to make bean soup in whenever I got a ham.) I stared at it, willing my silver beam to come out and turn the water to ice, going over a door in trying. That didn’t work…
“Silly Grampa! Magic doesn’t work THAT way!” Silver Spiral laughed.
“So I discovered. Remember, I had just Returned and didn’t have the teachers that you do, kiddo. It was all try it and see at the time.”
The next thing I knew, I felt some painful points in my left flank. My eyes opened and I let out a yelp. I turned my head to see Sethra looking back up at me. The lighting was dim, the sun setting in the west. I could hear the howl and barks of coyotes in the not-very-distance. Promptly, I shut the door. “Thanks, Sethra.” I said to the cat, who accepted the thanks as her just due before sauntering off. Looking in the pot, the water was still in its liquid state, and not at all cold. I looked down at the water and snorted “Fiddlesticks!” The silver beam leapt from the tip of my horn to the water, extracting heat and turning the water to ice, nice thick ice, or so I thought.
“Okay, lateral thinking, just along another axis.” I said to myself. Feeling quite drained, I managed to pick up the pot and move it to my bedroom. I turned on some battery powered lights I keep in there to light up the night before getting up into bed via some gymnastics I never would have been able to duplicate had I not been a little unicorn before passing out colder than yesterday’s pancakes. Well, you know what I mean. That is in itself highly unusual, because I have had sleep disorders all my life, and now I need potent meds to shut my brain off so I could sleep.
“Well, I did then. I don’t now. Grandma’s home, and I’ll pick up the story later.”
“Got that right, Grandma’s home!” came a still-refined British voice from the kitchen. The kids squealed happily and ran to their great-grandmother, Soaring Heart, a white pegasus with a mixed blue mane and tail, with a cutie mark of a large red heart mostly filled with smaller golden hearts and blue wings, gang hugging her gleefully.
“More story time later, kids! Let’s eat!”
Author's Note
My first real attempt here. Practice makes perfect, right?
Chapter 2- Back to Work- 2Oct to 9 Oct 15
After dinner, Rapid Transit gathered the grandkids in the front room. Making themselves comfy on the cushions, he went back to his story.
I wake up to find Sethra snuggled up against me, something she did occasionally. I lifted my head up and looked around, blinking some, because the dreams I had while asleep, while vivid, were rapidly fading from my conscious mind. Something about being in a school for unicorns, and a warning not to try more than I’m capable yet. Getting out of bed made me realize I was not the same Dominic Capobianco I was before, falling out and whacking my nose yet again against the nightstand. Sethra got off the bed when I started rocking and went to the door, meowing as she usually does to be let out. After a yawn, a shake and a stretch, I let her out, fumbling some with the doorknob to do so. Apparently, my mouth, lips and teeth can be used for somewhat finer manipulations than I had expected, but not as good as a hand.
I looked around and saw the pile of cases of water and oatmeal boxes in the living room, on the coffee table. I could also smell the trash and fridge, so, before I did anything else, I focused on the fridge. The silver glow came from my horn and lifted the fridge up far easier than when I had put it in the year before. I eased the thing through the kitchen and out the door, following it as I took it across the street and pitched behind a wall on the other side. Out of sight, out of mind, right? I soon followed it up with the trash and debris in the kitchen. “MUCH better!” I said as I went back inside to open all the windows wide to let the house air out. Then, I was able to eat and drink something without wanting to retch it out again, something I had not done since the kidney stones I had back on Statehood Day 2002 and frankly hope to never do again.
Once that need was filled, I went outside, back behind the trailer on the south side to needfully empty what was already full. That was when I realized I had been tromping around without any clothes on. Well, it IS hot in the North Phoenix area in October. Sethra peeked around the shed and meowed as I finished watering the oleanders. “Yes, girl, even I need a litter box now, or the equivalent thereof.” I told her. I swear she laughed as she went back around the shed.
Now, on to more serious work. I went back inside to see what I had to work with. Admittedly, not a hell of a lot. What in hell do I know about living well in a world with nobody home, no power, no water, no gas, just my wits. I didn’t have any supplies here to handle that, but… I knew where a lot of stuff I could use was. At work, in the fulfillment center. As a sorter and packer, I have seen thousands of useful items pass through my hands there, and I knew that I could find them in there, IF I had patience. Next up was to find a set of wheels that I could be comfortable in. Zira, while dependable, lacked one crucial ingredient for comfort… air conditioning. So would the warehouse. Either I go down by day and sweat while I hunt, or go down at night and fumble about in the dark. I mused on that while having some water when the idea hit me. There was an RV sales place down by work, right where I get off the 10 westbound. Since nobody was about, why not try to pinch an RV? One that would have air conditioning, and be big enough for me and Sethra. Mind you, I didn’t know diddly squat about how to hotwire a car or work on a motor. The only motor I ever worked on was a Fairbanks-Morse 38ND8 1/8 diesel turning a 600-kw jenny aboard the Grant. I figured it would be worth a try, at least. I would not have to worry about traffic, my pet bane about working there. Calling Sethra over, I told her my plans and gave her the option to come along or not, knowing she really did not like car rides. As I thought, she wasn’t really interested, so I made sure she had plenty of food and water before putting the door back on the hook, so she could shelter without coyote worries. “Back whenever, silly cat!” I said before getting back in Zira and getting her started, heading to work for the first time since April.
I was glad I left relatively early in the morning, because the RV place was a real pain in the tuchis.
“What’s a tookis?” Silent Flight asked.
“Hebrew for your butt end, kid. A language seldom used now.”
Finding keys was hard, finding the RV’s that matched the keys harder, finding one that was fueled harder still, and getting into the things, well, you do the math. Finally, about noonish, I got one to start. It ran a bit rough, but, what the hell, it ran, it had air conditioning, it had power, it had air conditioning, it had room inside, it needed some tweaking with duct tape, sticks and padding so I could see over the dash to drive and work the pedals, oh, did I mention it had air conditioning? Fortunately, it had a full tank of diesel, so, leaving it run to cool down the inside, I got my kipple out of dear old Zira and gave her an affectionate nuzzle before loading the stuff into Oberon. (Yes, I name all my cars. Been a habit of mine since my first one, a ’67 Pontiac, back in ’79.)
Driving carefully and slowly, I went the three-quarters of a mile down to the warehouse. There were a bunch of cars in the lot, but all of them showed signs of heavy monsoonal rains. In fact, two sections of the lot showed obvious past signs of flooding. I pulled up in front of the place and parked. The doors were open, as I thought they would be, but the next barrier was a bit tougher to overcome. Electric lock and no power. So, with the grace of your divinity of choice, telekinesis and a crowbar, I got the hinge pins out and the door pulled out of the frame.
Going in, the skylights gave some light, enough to see by. My hooves clopped loudly on the bare concrete as I walked through the building to my normal work sector. I can see they were doing some work on the east side, removing the library and putting in racking. They had just started, it looked like, only encroaching into the east half of D section. It wasn’t as hot as I thought it would be in there, finding some loading dock doors in the back open. The safety rails along the PIT lanes, instead of coming up almost to my chest, now were above my ears.
After getting the first load stowed, I headed back in to find some more easy to reach goodies from the sort area. I was looking for a camping stove and fuel for it, so I could make hot water, and hopefully a percolator. Yes, there was a range in Oberon, but I could not count on keeping him running all the time. I nosed my way through the sort carts waiting to be packed out, hoping I would find what I was looking for. I found several small stoves and the solid white fuel for them, and was hunting for the coffeepot when I heard a noise from outside- barking, growling and yapping, the noise coming from an open loading dock door. Curiosity overcoming sense, I went to look.
Outside, there were a pack of dogs, big and small, all looking a bit scrawny. When I clopped up to the door, they all looked up at me. The biggest one growled some, but they all looked… expectant? Hopeful? Hungry? I chose option D: all of the above. “Now, y’all just hold tight down theah, and ah’ll dig up somethin for y’all.” Okay, my voice does drift accents a lot. Always has. Most of the time, it’s deliberate. Not all the time, though.
“Why do you do that, Grampa?” Silent Flight asked.
“Sometahms, mah boah, it to make sure you is listenin.” Rapid Transit said with a smile before changing accents. “Othah times, it for emphasis. You knows I is serious when I talk dis way, right?” he said in his native Bronxish.
“Got that right, Grampa.” Silver Spiral said. Both kids folded their tails tight against their rumps, remembering one time their antics angered the old unicorn enough for him to chase after them, yelling in his coarsest New Yawkese, and tanning their butts properly. They learned to tone things down after that.
I stepped back from the lip of the dock and went inside, to find something I saw earlier- a cage with about twelve bags of dog food. Using my silver glow, I pulled the cage to the dock edge before lofting four bags of food, one at a time, out to the pack. The dogs easily tore through the paper and started enjoying themselves.
“Now, ah don’t promise to be here every day, but ah DO promise that every day ah IS heah, ah’ll put out some food for you. In exchange, you don’t hurt me, okay?” I drawled out to the doggies. The leader, a German Shepherd I think, looked up at me. I swear that he agreed with me, and was willing to do so.
“All raht now, y’all enjoy. Ah have work to do.” I said before going back to my business. I thought about it as I walked back to sort. What was I doing, talking to a pack of hungry dogs? More importantly, why were they agreeing with me? The looks the lead dog gave me reminded me of how Sethra looks at me, or down on me. Whatever happened while I was away sure had an effect on them. Hell, look what happened to ME. I decided to finish up down here for the day before loading up and heading home, taking it slow and careful. I have not driven anything bigger than a pickup truck in years.
Back home, I was worried about what Sethra would think about Oberon, but it turned out all the worrying was for naught. I opened the door and she trotted in with a ‘what took you so long’ look on her face before finding the bed and curling up, enjoying the cool.
My life pattern wound up being like that for a week or so, going to the warehouse and hunting for useful supplies and food. I got lucky the second day, finding a supply of 12-volt battery operated water pumps. With a little backhanded engineering (at which I’m merely a journeyman, not a master) I came up with a way to lower a suction hose into a diesel storage tank and pump out the fuel I needed to keep Oberon running and Sethra happy, and another one to fill the water tanks. Did take me a while to figure out how to dump the sanitary tank, though. Down there in the morning, back home in the evening.
The second evening, I did something I needed to do- move my computer and phone to Oberon for charging. I also brought my mp3 player and aux speaker. It had been too damn quiet- I needed SOMETHING to fill in the silence! Fortunately, I have about 3,000 songs stored in my computer, Eldrad IX. (Okay, so I’ve been a Whovian since 1979.)
I became more adept at using the silver glow as a form of telekinesis, using them as more than just auxiliary hands. After the first incident, I stopped trying to do ‘spells’ with the glow, and just focused on how to use it for living. The lock-opening… spell, for lack of a better term… was not difficult to use, it was a matter of finding the damn locks first before essentially searching for the right skeleton key. Practice did make perfect, essentially ‘feeling’ around the affected lock or door with the silver glow to find the way in before feeling for the right key for the lock. So I became proficient at doing B&E. I’m not proud of it, but where is anyone to stop me?
“Let’s pick this up later, kids. Almost time for the poker game. I haven’t missed that in years.”
“But, we’ll be in bed when you get back, Grampa!” Silver Spiral protested.
“So? We still have a few more days, kids. I need my time out, but you already know that. Be good with Grandma, and I’ll make some blueberry pancakes tomorrow, okay?” Rapid Transit said as he dug out his poker poke and flipped it around his neck.
“For your blueberry pancakes, we will, Grampa!” Silent Flight said earnestly.
Author's Note
Chapter Two- okay, how to get what you need to live comfortably when you don't know a lot?
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Chapter 3- Living, Learning and Finding a Friend
After breakfast the next morning (the promised blueberry pancakes), Rapid Transit sat with his great-grandchildren in the yard. “Now, where was I?” he asked.
“Talking about your new door lock spell, and about putting on music.” Silver Spiral prompted as Silent Flight hovered some, getting wing practice in.
“Oh, okay. Ready?” At the kids’ nods, the old unicorn started talking again.
For a week or so, I commuted, driving Oberon from home to the warehouse and back every day, using fuel and time. I didn’t want to leave home, hoping my father would show up, but finally I gave in and stayed in front of the FC, after taking some books and memorabilia from the house. I knew I would be back, because I had more precious possessions there.
I set up camp outside the front doors of the warehouse. I found several small generators inside, and took two outside, setting them up near Oberon. Finding fuel for them was easy, one gas station being quite close by, close enough that I could load up a couple of yard carts with fuel cans, a battery and a pump, and get gas every four days or so, always remembering to add the stabilizer to the fuel cans. That way, I could get the mix right.
The dog pack stayed around, coming around front as well as staying in the back. I kept them in food, and they provided me with security and friendship. Sethra took to the dogs easily, and they to her. The whole pack liked me, I could tell. Their leader, whom I named Rex, kept the pack in line. I swear, he thought it good to keep an eye on me without getting underfoot or in the way. The pack not only appreciated the food, but also the toys I dug out.
Shortly after moving down, my first real crisis hit. I ran out of coffee. Sure, I could have tried to bust into the Wal-Mart up the road, but I was positive the produce section there would be even worse than at the Fry’s, and I hadn’t come up with an adequate horse-shaped gas mask or respirator. I had come to depend on the coffee to wake me up and keep me going, even without milk. I had broken down and started using non-dairy creamer, breaking an oath I took when I left my last ship years before, to ALWAYS use milk in my coffee. I HATE non-dairy creamer!
While looking around in the library (what the stuff on shelves is called, the other sections called the Racks), I could NOT find any regular coffee! K-cups, espresso roast, cappuccino roast, whole beans, but no regular coffee! Being able to only search the lower shelves and not the upper ones didn’t help. After two hours of searching, I just sat down and screamed, ‘Cappuccino, Frappuccino, raktajino, Al Pacino, where’s the GODDAMN COFFEE?’ while thinking of a container of Folger’s coffee.
The silver glow came out of my horn before emitting a bright flash. Suddenly, I KNEW where to find the coffee in the building. Every location where ground regular coffee could be found, I knew the coordinates. What aisle, what shelf, what bin, I just KNEW. Turns out there was a can of coffee on the next shelf up from where I had stopped searching. I used my horn to get the coffee down. Once it was in my hooves, the knowledge of where the rest of the coffee was faded from my mind. I understood then that the spell would work if I had a clear image of what I was looking for, or better yet, having a sample of the item on hoof. If I had one, I could find where the others were. That would make my searching more direct and less random. The bad thing of living in an FC- I knew there was almost three million items in here, just knowing where everything is is impossible without the computers. Even if I had power for them, I don’t know how to look for the master index. The damn place IS half a mile long and about two hundred yards wide, after all.
The twins giggled at the story about the coffee. They know how Grampa is in the morning without it. Fortunately, Gramma has hot coffee waiting when he gets up.
“That’s a real big building, Grampa. I bet I could fly in there!” Silent Flight said from his hover.
“You got that right, kiddo. But you is jumpin ahead a bit. More on that later."
Once the coffee issue was settled, I worked harder on habitability. Food and water now assured for a while, time for some comforts. I replaced the bed in Oberon with a thick mattress pad, trimmed down to size with some knives I had found and sharpened. (Hey, growing up the son and grandson of a butcher has SOME bennies, yes?) I removed some of the furniture that got in the way of comfort, using the silver glow to loosen the nuts and bolts involved. Much easier than trying to hold a wrench in a hoof not meant for it.
One thing I wanted was a Brodie knob for the steering wheel, but they are hard to find. I took two of the dog pack with me to check out the truck stops one and two miles away, but came up empty. So, if you can’t get it, make it. Raiding the Home Depot up the street, I found the parts I was looking for- a hose clamp, cotter pins, furniture knobs that fit my hoof, tin snips, flex-seal paint and a screwdriver. First, I threaded the cotter pin through the hose clamp. Next, put the hose clamp on the steering wheel. After tightening down the clamp, I threaded the knob over the cotter pin, clipping off the excess length. After painting the knob with flex-seal, I had me a Brodie. Not the best, but it worked.
One may wonder why I didn’t spend a lot of time looking for others. The answer is simple- I didn’t think there were any others about. Listening to the radio was out, I mislike static. I did find some CB transceivers in stock, but I could never hear anything. Yes, I went well clear of the building, but still heard nothing. Maybe I was doing something wrong, but if so, I didn’t have a clue. So, I soldiered on. Okay, sailored on. I was a sailor, not a soldier.
October passed into November, then December. For the first time in years, I didn’t dread the holiday season. I had my essentials organized, food, water, coffee, flour, powdered milk… I even found a bread making machine and tried my hand at baking bread. I definitely needed more practice. The camping meals I found tasty, canned veggies and fruit even more so. I found that a little odd, because before the change, I hated veggies for the most part. Now, I found meat sickened me, so I gave all the jerky I found to the dogs.
I managed to get a car running, a small one I nicked from a dealership. I used the small car to explore the area, and the other two FC’s not far away. One I had been to for a couple days shortly after hiring, the other one I had not been to. Doing the B&E on them was not difficult, just depressing on the inside. They had a lot more of the smaller stuff than my place did. There was another place like mine, but it was another twenty miles southwest. Just didn’t want to go that far. Sputter did live up to her name.
“Sputter? That’s a funny name for a car, Grampa.” Silver Spiral said.
“It’s what she did a lot. Gas going bad, but I didn’t find out about that till much later.”
I found large plastic igloos inside the warehouse, over in the Team and Mech section, which are intended as dog houses. I brought them outside and set them up around the building, so the dogs would have shelter. Once I lined them with blankets, they took to them happily. Them dogs liked me, and I liked them, but Sethra demanded more attention, and got it.
I lived alone, with the cat and dogs. I did have music playing a lot, because silence really bothered me, as I already said. The next major incident happened in late December. I was coming back from the gas station, pulling a cart full of gas cans with Jingle, Dingle and Rex as my escorts. We all heard loud barking and growling coming from behind us. We looked to see a large pack of big dogs coming right at us, looking mean, hungry and determined.
Rex looked at me and barked once before leading the charge to defend their place. That bark I took to mean “RUN!”, so I ran, slipping the traces on the cart to do so. I dodged around the low wall at the entrance, and found a dog lying in wait. I admit I let out a holler that echoed off the other buildings in the area, turned again, thinking about getting out of there!
My horn lit up and projected a beam in front of me, a beam that spread into a silver disc. I ran through the disk, and found myself up to my tail end in snow. Now, snow in Phoenix is a little rare. I’ve seen it twice in thirty years. So, wherever I was, it wasn’t Phoenix. I shook myself as I looked around.
It took me a moment to realize where I was- Courthouse Square in Prescott, Arizona. It was where my nephew was married a couple of years back. I felt a tingling feeling on my flanks. Startled, I saw the image of what looked like a map, blue lines connecting red dots, appear there. Reminded me somewhat of an old NYC IRT map I saw years ago.
I realized I could now open a telegate to anywhere I was familiar with, or could see with my own eyes. I could not go someplace new, but I can go to where I have been. Been on my feet, that is. Driving through does not count, nor does flying over. I headed toward the gazebo in the corner to think some.
“Just like Mom does!” Silver Spiral said excitedly.
“And what you will do some day, Spiral. Only those unicorns of my bloodline who have silver in their horns can even cast that spell. You’ll learn how to do it once you get your cutie mark."
I shut my eyes and reviewed ‘acceptable destinations’. The ships I served on were not, because they were no longer there, having long since been turned into razor blades. Range did not seem to limit me, because I could picture Scotland, England, Barbados and Andros Island as well as New York, California, Vegas, Toronto, Orlando and other places I have been. I knew I could go there just by opening the door and stepping through, metaphorically speaking. A little thought revealed to me I could also go inside a building, if there was a window I could see through.
I made myself comfy behind the gazebo wall, to get out of the wind and rest a little. The telegate sucked up some magic, though I knew practice will make that easier. I contemplated my new power, focusing, meditating, relaxing, and chilling… it was COLD up there!
“You’ll catch cold without a blanket, you know.” came a voice from behind me. A girl’s voice, I knew. English accent. Startled, I think I went a good two feet straight up, not easy when you’re three feet at the ears.
I spun to see the source of the voice, another little horse like me, but mostly white with a dark blue and light blue striped mane and tail. And wings. Yes, wings, slowly flapping to keep her airborne. I let out a squeak, eyes wide.
“Great Gramma!” Silent Flight called out. “That’s how you met her!”
“Got that right, kid. You’re a lot like her. We been together ever since.”
“You look like you have not seen anyone in a long time.” she said to me, laughing a little.
“I haven’t. I went to bed on the twenty-third of May and woke up on October first. It’s now the twentieth of December, and who are you?” I asked, willing my heart to slow down to triple digits.
The pegasus smiled at me as she came in for a landing. “I was Sara Birkhart. I came out here for a holiday with my cousin, arriving from London on the twentieth of May. On the day everything happened, we were asleep in the hotel over there,” she said, pointing across the street. “When I woke up, I was like this, Carrie was missing, and the trees were missing their leaves. I’ve been scavenging what I can find around town, but there’s not much. Where did you come from, who are you, and how did you get here?”
I explained who I was, where I was living, and how I thought I got here. “Would you like to come back to Phoenix with me?” I asked her. “It will be nice to have a second set of hooves to help look around the warehouse, and with your flight, you can check places I can’t.”
I smiled, happy to not be alone for the first time in months. “Go ahead, Sara. I won’t go anywhere until you come back. I promise.” She grinned and took wing, returning a few minutes later with a bag slung around her neck. She landed by the gazebo and I walked down to her. With deliberate focus (and hamming it up a little), I powered up my horn, focused on being outside of Oberon, and gestured for her to step through, because once I went through the door, it shuts.
We came out to hear the sounds of a vicious dogfight going on out on the street. The only dog I saw out front of the warehouse was Vera, a mother with five young pups. We raced out to the street, Sara winning the race by several lengths. Out there, we saw several dogs lying in the street, torn and bloody. The invading pack was locked in fierce combat with ‘my’ pack, with the home team winning by a run in the top of the ninth with two outs. I saw Rex do a nice spin move that took a chunk out of what I guessed was the other pack’s leader, and the invading pack decided to get out of the area, with encouragement from the home team.
“Does this happen often?” Sara asked me.
“First time I know of. I think we’re going to need a first aid kit, a lot of peroxide, and bandaging.”
“Go get them. I’ll wait here with the dogs.” she told me. I ran inside and fetched the supplies, hoping it would be enough. I got the pack on my back and ran back out.
Outside, I found Sara with the dogs, who gathered around her like a long-lost friend. I brought the supplies to her, and we spent an hour or so, out there in the street, patching up wounded dogs. We talked as we cared for the dogs, finding out she was attending university in England and came here for an end of term break. She had interned at a vet’s for the last two summers, even though she was pursuing a degree in programming. I have to admit, she did have a way with the animals.
Once all the dogs were patched up and cared for, I took Sara inside Oberon to meet Sethra. After introduction, the two looked at each other for a few seconds, then Sethra gave Sara an ankle rub before leaping to her perch. “She likes me.” Sara told me. “Brust fan, yes?”
“Been so for years.” I said as I dug out some canned fruits and veggies, opening them and heating them in the nuker while I made coffee. Sara asked if she could plug in her phone for charging, and I pointed her to a socket.
“I hope I can still contact the others.” She told me once the phone started taking in power.
“Others?” I asked, startled enough to nearly drop a bowl.
“Yes, others. Before the battery went flat on my phone, I managed to contact them. They said they were in Eastern Illinois, but I didn’t get much more than that before the battery went out, and I could not work a generator.” she explained.
I set the food down in front of her and she ate with relish. She even liked my oat flour bread, which meant either I was getting better at making it, or she had no taste whatsoever. I offered her the hospitality of my humble abode, and a warm place to sleep, which she accepted. We decided to wait until the next day to call the Illinois group. I know how bad time zone changes can be.
After dinner, I took her on a tour of the warehouse, picking up some extra blankets and another foam pad. I took her to the accumulated food stash and told her to pick what she wanted. Sara did admit there was not much forage in Prescott that was worth eating, and it had been some time since she had a really good meal. She did have more than one before bedding down, but I did not mind. Gave me a reason to make more oat flour bread. (that was because I had a bag of oat flour open. I experiment with what I could find. So sue me.)
We talked long into the night, happy to have a conversation. Turns out she is as much of a sci-fi fan as I am, with many of the same interests. I dug out one of the books I saved from home, an autographed copy of ‘Dragonflight’ from 1983. She was suitably impressed, but she had to top me by telling about the tour she took of the Doctor Who set, and meeting some of the stars. That trumped my autograph of an earlier producer all to hell, and meeting Tegan on a show tour soon after I moved to the desert.
The next morning, after checking on the dogs, refilling their food bowls, recovering the gasoline carts and refilling the generators, it was time to call Sara’s others. She had explained the night before that it was a satellite phone. Me, I would not know a satellite phone if it reared up and bit me in the backside, which is why I never gave a thought about searching for one. My phone has a slide-out keyboard for texting. I HATE virtual keyboards!
Summoning up our nerve and crossing our non-existent fingers, I pushed the ‘0’ button with a stylus held in my silver glow. After several rings, someone picked up the other end. “Iridium operator, this is Joseph. What’s busted this time?” we heard over the speaker.
“Joe, I’m Dom Capobianco, and Sara Birkhart is with me. What’s busted? Try it the other way, pallie… what AIN’T busted? I woke up in North Phoenix about three months ago, Sara woke up in Prescott a bit later, we been living on our onesomes until yestiddy, when I figgered out how to open a door between where I am and where I was once and go through. She found me, I broughts her home, and we figured to wait till morning before calling! Try dat on for size!” I said, my voice getting sharper as I went on.
A sigh was clearly audible over the phone. “Hang on, I don’t have the time to explain everything to every new returnee that calls. I’ll get someone who has the time." We heard before the phone started playing bad Muzak.
I glanced over at Sara. “If I ever meet dis Joe, I’m gonna clock him a good one until he learns some manners!” I growled.
“I’ll hold him while you swing.” Sara replied, looking as annoyed as I felt, if I read her wings right.
“Ya got a deal.” I said back, waiting for someone on the other end to pick up, which happened a few minutes later.
“Is anyone still there?” we heard. A young lady this time.
“Yes, we’re still here.” Sara said before I was able to.
“Good. Where are you at?”
I answered this time. “At an Amazon facility off of Interstate 10 in Phoenix, Arizona. After I woke up a few months ago, I came down here to dig up what I could find. I used to work here, so I knew the right stuff was down here.”
“Phoenix? We passed through there back in August. You must not have Returned yet.”
“I take it that whatever happened to us is not unusual?” Sara asked.
“It’s happened all across the world. I’ll explain in more detail later, but the short version is that magic came to the galaxy, but human beings could not stand it. It’s like radiation poisoning.” The voice said. I shuddered visibly- being a former Navy nuclear engineer, I know all about high dose radiation poisoning. Not good.
“So, friends from another universe changed us all into forms that could handle magic. Almost all the people on Earth were shoved into a time stream, to reappear at times between then and some thousands of years from now, changed into ponies. Ponies of different types. What are you?”
“I have wings, and my friend Dom has a horn on his head. Unicorn and pegasus, yes?”
“Correct. There are also earth ponies, like I am, who have neither horn or wings, but we are very strong indeed. Can you fly yet, Miss?” The voice asked.
“Oh, yes. I learned how relatively quickly. I was a student pilot back home, and the purpose of my trip to Arizona was to see if I could get into a school up in Prescott to learn more about flying. Once I saw I had wings, I wanted to fly. Took me a few days, but I mastered it.”
“Good to hear! Some pegasi here take a while to learn how. And what about you, sir? Have you learned to use magic yet?”
“First off, Miss, I’m Dominic, and my lady friend is Sara. Yes, I have figured out how to use my horn for telekinesis, and when stressed, I have been able to devise spells to do other things.” I told her before explaining the lockpick spell, the find what I’m looking for spell, and the get the hell out of here spell.
“That’s very good to hear, Dominic. I’m Alex, by the way. Do you have a cutie mark yet?” Alex asked.
“A picture on your flanks by the tail. It shows your main calling in life.”
“Well, yes, a picture did appear on my flanks yesterday, once I figured out the telegates. Looks like an old subway map I had back when I was a kid back in New York.” I explained to Alex. “Red dots and blue lines.”
“Then, that’s your main calling, to help ponies get around. Can you make it to Paris, Illinois?” Alex asked.
“Alex, in order for me to go someplace, I either have to see it, or have already been there. I don’t even know where Paris is. The only place I have been in Illinois is North Chicago, for boot camp and A school, way back when.” I explained to her.
“Okay. Look up where we are on an atlas, and see how close you can come to here. I have a meeting to get to, so I’ll text you my number and you send me yours, and we’ll talk again. Agreeable to you?”
“Very much so, Alex.” Sara said. “We’ll keep the phone charged and will be waiting to hear from you again. Ring us up when you get the time!”
“Sounds good to me! Hang in there, ponies, you’re not alone!” Alex said cheerfully before hanging up.
“Ponies?” I asked.
“Sounds suitable, yes? A small horse can be called a pony, right?” Sara said back to me with a smile in her voice.
“Sara, the only pony I ever saw in my life was a Shetland my sister had when I was a teenager. Lady was almost as tall as I was. Nice horse, but I was uncomfortable around her. The one time I tried to ride her, I fell off.” I admitted. “She won the show riding ribbons, not me.”
“Just go with the breezes, Dom. New times, new names. After all, we’re not humans any more.”
I nodded as the phone beeped, a number appearing on the screen. Sara took a stylus in her mouth, saved the number, and texted back hers. “I better find an atlas, and map out how close we can get to this Paris.”
“You know where you can go to, yes?” Sara asked after she sent the text.
“I have a good idea, but seeing a map will help. I’ve always been good with maps. I should be able to mark off where I can open a door to.” I said as I opened Oberon’s door to head out. Sethra meowed once, and I looked at her. “I won’t go anywhere without you, silly girl.” Reassured, she went back to her napping place.
We found a 2015 road atlas in G section, and I sat down under a lantern with the atlas and a marker, highlighting places I could go to. I focused on specific city and regional maps once I figured some things out, and managed to find many, but not all, of the detail maps I was looking for. I have to say, the null signals for not finding what I was looking for was jarring to the horn. Once plotted, I looked up Paris, Illinois and started looking.
I was right in saying the closest I have been to Paris was North Chicago, and boot camp. It would be quite a hike from there to Paris, but it was the best I could do. Sara suggested going there, finding a diesel truck at a U-haul and using that. “After all, if you can transmat from here to there and back, we can go out and hunt for a proper vehicle, load it from here, then drive when ready, yes?” Sara suggested.
Now, I have to admit I was definitely imaginative, but I need others to jar my thoughts in the proper direction for the imagination to work. “You’re right, Sara. I never thought of that.” I said, then an idea hit me across the head like a gold brick in a purple velvet purse.
“You’ve got an idea, Dom… I’ve seen that look in people’s faces before. Go on, verbalize what you’re thinking. I won’t laugh at you.” Sara said encouragingly.
“Gate… telegate… doorway… tunnel… subway tunnel… DRIVE THROUGH!” I shouted.
“Drive through?” Sara asked, confused by my thought patterns.
“Drive through! I can open a gate and we can drive through! We don’t have to load up THERE, we can load up HERE, I open a gate and we drive through it!” I said, excited.
“Can you handle transiting such a large mass?” Sara asked, clearly worried. “Maybe we should start small.”
“Opening the door is the hard part. Distance is not a concern. Mass and diameter could. How about we start transiting in Sputter and see what happens?” I replied.
“Sounds good. After lunch, maybe? You’re going to need to be properly fueled to pull this off.” Sara said with a smile.
“You’re still trying to catch up after two months of hard foraging.” I replied, smiling back. “Let’s check out the food pile and you pick what you want. I’ll cook.”
“No, I will cook. You just bake some more of that oat bread, okay?” she said sweetly. Only one day and I’m already getting henpecked…
“And I’m still getting henpecked, but I don’t mind at all. DON’T tell Great-Grandma I said that, y’hear?” Rapid Transit said, glaring mock-furiously at the giggling twins.
After lunch, we headed outside to get Sputter started, not an easy task. Once she did get started, I moved her to the far end of the parking lot while Sara flew overhead. I started moving back to the entrance, willing the door to open and come out there. My horn flared, the disc appeared, and I drove through, coming out where I wanted to. However, the effort in passing through was like the first time I tried anything magical… exhausting. I managed to stop Sputter before passing out.
I woke up to see Sara standing over me, looking very concerned. “About time you woke up, Dom. You’ve been sleeping for almost an hour.” She told me before giving me a kiss on the mouth. If she would have done that sooner, I would have woken earlier!
After she let go, I managed to get up. “Why, Sara, I didn’t know you cared.” I said.
She swatted me with a wingtip. “After all I have been through, you better believe I care!” she said before reporting what she saw. A silver disc appeared in front of the car, which passed into the disc, coming out a hundred yards away, without a disc appearing, just the car. “You had best start working out with that gate, so we can get through it without you passing out!”
“Yes, dear…” I muttered. Sure, we just met, but hey, it has been a long time, and she IS right… dammit…
“Time to stop, little ones. I’m getting a little hoarse from all this talkin.”
“Can we pick up later, Grampa?” Silent Flight asked.
“Sure thing, kid. I just gotta rest my voice a bit. After dinner, okay?”
The twins gang-hugged their grandfather, who hugged them back gently. They could tell he loved them, and vice-versa. After the hug, they went to see what Gramma was doing while Grampa took a nap.
Chapter 4- On The Road Again - 1 Feb 16
A couple of hours later, Soaring Heart woke Rapid Transit for dinner. After eating, he took the great-grandchildren out to the yard to play. When they were done playing, they sprawled on the grass and he went back to the story.
It took about a month for me to get in shape enough to pass something the size of an RV through the gate without falling over. In that time, we went back to the RV place and looked for just the right one to bring along. I wanted to leave Oberon where he was, as a camp site for when I came back. I was sure I would, because of the treasure trove of goods inside.
That month of waiting made it so we were ready to leave about 1 Feb 2016. Being that close to midwinter, I decided to not gate to northern Illinois, which had proven to be under some inches of snow. Instead, I chose to gate in at Sallisaw, Oklahoma, where I once spent a night when I drove cross-country back in ’86. Take 40 east to 49 North, 49 north to 44 east, 44 east to St. Louis, where we pick up 70 east across Illinois to State Route 1 in Marshall, then north on 1 to Paris. Should take a couple of days, allowing for unknown range on a tank of fuel, how tired we were, availability of diesel and state of the roads.
Sara and I took our time preparing Puck for the trip. I didn’t know anything about changing oil, but we found an RV that had oil in the engine, would turn over, was relatively easy to handle, had fuel, and everything we could think of trying worked. I did make a Brodie knob mark two, which involved two hose clamps, a curved piece of metal, a thin bolt and nuts, a furniture knob and the use of a drill bit to ream out the hole big enough to sink the nuts into the top, so it would pivot without driving nuts into the soft part of the hoof. Worked better than the Mark One version, which didn’t pivot.
The next problem was to teach Sara how to drive American style. She knew how to drive British style, but she had to get used to being on the wrong side of both the vehicle and the road. Traffic was not going to be a concern, obviously. After that was learning to drive Puck through the telegate. So I needed the exercise. Did take me the whole month to be able to pass the RV through without strain.
Sara and I took a week to load Puck up with supplies, food, tools, and gifts for our new friends. I know, I could just telegate back to get them, but if we were going to move in up there, best be polite about it. Chatting with Alex weekly gave us some information about items they could use, and so we spent some time each day organizing the warehouse, so I could get at them quickly.
Leaving the dogs was not going to be easy. I made sure they had plenty of food available, the shelters would stay dry, and said goodbye to everyone, including the puppies. I did promise to come back, but I could not say when. The pack understood me. Understood me so much, that they would not let us go unless one came with us. The one chosen was Laddie, a good sized black Lab who liked being around us, even Sethra, who took to his entry into Puck with her usual disdain. A last minute addition to the crew, insisted upon by Vera, was one of her pups, a female brindle pit bull we had named Vanna. She really liked being with Sara and I, being underfoot while we explored the warehouse.
Before leaving, I took Sara with me for one trip back home. I wanted to take some memorabilia from the house, so I would have some memories of my family, not to mention some more books. But before doing that, I wanted to check the tack shop that was a couple blocks from the house. Never went into there before, but now I had reason.
“Why are we going here?” Sara asked as we walked through the trailer park to the tack shop.
“I want to see if they have saddlebags. If so, would you not agree that they would be useful?” I replied.
“You do have a point, Dom. Not something I would have thought of.”
“If they do have some, we can gate back and raid the place. The first trip is the hard one. Once in, going back is easy.”
Looking in the windows didn’t reveal much, so we forced an entry. I really hate breaking glass panes that size. Fortunately, we didn’t suffer any cuts from flying glass. Inside, we did find a bunch of saddlebags of all sizes, along with saddles, reins, and other tack. We took the ones that fit us, Sara able to get her wings outside the bags as I cinched them onto her. She did find she could fly with them on, loaded testing would come later. She flew back to my house, while I gated.
“Grampa, why didn’t you just unlock the door?” Silver Spiral asked.
“Because, kiddo, I was not feeling up to it. I was about to leave home, and I felt upset and worried. Kicking the glass helped calm me down.” Rapid Transit explained.
At home, I loaded the bags with some more books, a photo album, and something special- a cleaver in a brown wood frame presented to my grandfather when he retired in 1977. When he died in 1993, my father claimed it. Now, I will. I left behind a note, in a plastic envelope, telling my father that I had returned, and that I would check back every so often to see if he had, too. We then gated back to the warehouse, where I stowed the treasures in Puck. For once, Sara didn’t needle me, for which I was very grateful. I turned in early, to get plenty of rest before the morrow.
The next morning, Sara did the final checks on Puck, making sure all tanks were full or empty while I transited to Sallisaw, Oklahoma and the parking lot of the Saddle Inn. Turns out it was now a Days Inn. After all, it had been almost thirty years since I have been there.
I walked around the lot, fixing in my mind the location I wanted Puck to come out at. Had I come in blind, we would have driven into the lobby, which would not have been good. I decided on a place that gave us a good straight to pull out on, and decided we would come through slowly, in first gear. After transiting, then we could kick it up a notch. I then transited back to Seven, and Sara.
Puck was up and running when I got back. I climbed in and got in the passenger seat. “First gear, Sara. Let’s take it slow going through the gate.” I said quietly.
“Scared, Dom?” she asked gently.
“Apprehensive. My first big move in a long time.” I replied before taking a deep breath and opening the gate. “Let’s do this.”
Sara eased Puck through the silver disc, coming out in Oklahoma. I felt far less strain on my magic this time than when I first did it. I guided Sara to the interstate highway and we set off for Illinois. Sethra climbed up in the seat next to me and purred, snuggling close. She always could read my moods, even more so since I became a pony. Fortunately, Sara also picked up on it, and she just turned on the stereo, already loaded with playlists we had hashed out. Instead of the ‘traveling music’ set, she keyed to the ‘comedy’ set, leading off with the theme to ‘Super Chicken’. I looked at Sara, she glanced at me, and we both started laughing.
The kids giggled at that, having heard Grampa sing the song to himself when faced with a difficult problem. He mock-glared at them to quiet down before he went on.
We cruised down I-40 east to I-49 north, making the transition smoothly. The ramps were still strong, easily holding the RV. Sara drove for several hours, along I-49 through Arkansas, up US 71 when I-49 ended into Missouri, picking up I-49 again, following it to I-44. The emptiness was a bit disturbing, not seeing any traffic at all. No cars, no trucks, no nothing. By unspoken agreement, we left the comedy list on all the way through, needing the laughter.
We stopped to refuel, refresh and relieve ourselves, Laddie and Vanna included, at a place called Kum & Go just off I-44 in Sarcoxie, Missouri. Sara let Laddie out while I hunted up the diesel vent to pump out enough to fill Puck’s tanks. Sara explored the Kum & Go, to see if there was anything edible inside. It wasn’t long before she came galloping out.
“Dom, someone’s been here!” she called out. “There are empty packs of crisps and cookies all over the place!”
I looked up from my fueling operation. “Sure seems like someone’s been here. Why don’t you look around while I finish fueling up?” I said, glancing around. “There are some RV’s over there. Check them out, and I’ll help when this is done.”
“I’ll take the dogs with me. They should be a big help.” Sara said. “Laddie! Vanna! Someone else here. Help me look.”
Laddie let out a woof and started sniffing about, Vanna close by. Sara led them into the store to pick up a scent. I was stuck filling the tanks. Puck has big tanks, and the 12-volt pump was slow.
The trail the dogs found did not lead to the RV park, but the parking lot for cars. They went up to a family van and alerted, Laddie sitting down, Vanna yipping, and Sara hovering, trying to look inside the van, but tinted windows made that hard. The side door slid open and a pony’s head peeked out, looking quite scared.
I could see what was going on, but not hear anything because the pump’s hum was too loud. A few minutes later, after some conversation on Sara’s part, punctuated by Vanna’s yips, the pony came out of the van. He was a dark orange color, with a brighter orange unruly mane, with a shock of bright copper mane hair between his ears. He was not as tall as Sara or I, but he sure was the chubbiest pony I have ever seen, struggling some to get out of the van.
Once the boy got out, Vanna immediately got between the colt’s forelegs, causing the colt to trip and fall. Vanna proceeded to cover his nose with slurps, causing him to giggle. I could hear the fuel coming up the fill line, so I shut the pump off and removed the hoses. Setting the apparatus to drain, I moseyed over to where the colt was losing his fight with the puppy.
“Dom, this is Willie. He appeared here two nights ago. He’s been the mystery raider of the store. Last he remembers was falling asleep in the car on the way to Dallas, and waking up here all alone.” Sara explained, the little pony looking up from the puppy to nod in agreement, bright golden eyes showing concern mixed with joy.
“Hi, Willie!” I said with as much joy as I could muster. “Would you like to join our merry band? Vanna seems to really like you.” I asked as Vanna let out a yip of agreement.
“Where are you going?” Willie asked.
“We’re going to a place where more ponies are, so we can all live together, pooling our knowledge and skills to make our corner of the world a better place.” I told him.
“Will there be fresh food there? Everything here tastes funny to me.” Willie replied, a hopeful look on his face.
“It must be the preservatives, Coppertop.” I said with a smile, hugging the chubby pony close, Sara moving in to hug the two of us with her wings. “We got better food than what you can find in there.”
“You brought Doctor Coppertop here? He’s not fat now!” Silent Flight exclaimed.
“Yep. We adopted him right there. Yes, he was a very fat colt who grew to a nice big strong earth pony stallion, a fine doctor and a great father to his family. He learned well from us.”
“He doesn’t make me nervous when he checks me over at the hospital.” Silver Spiral said.
“At his age, he’s mostly retired, only going to the hospital when he feels like it. Now, may I go on?” he asked. The twins nodded, and he went on with the story.
Willie looked up at Sara and I. “Okay, then. Can we go?” he asked hopefully.
“But, what about your parents, Willie? Do you care about them?” Sara asked, still holding the hug.
“You’ve shown me more kindness now than they have ever shown me. They were two fitness instructors who could not stand their fat kid getting fatter by the month. We were heading to Dallas to see if I could qualify for surgery. They would not let me be ME. They forced me to exercise daily, and it HURT!” Willie said with some heat. “Can YOU be my parents?”
Sara and I exchanged a glance that held more meaning than the Encyclopedia Brittanica. “Of course we will, Willie. We care enough to offer you our love.” She said before a flash swept over all of us.
When the flash dimmed, Sara bore a cutie mark on her flanks, one that consisted of a large red hollow heart with two blue wings, one on either side. Inside the heart were two smaller golden hearts, which left room for a lot more. “Wow…” Willie breathed.
“So that’s how Gramma got her cutie mark! When you and she adopted Coppertop!” Silver Spiral shouted.
“Got that right. Every kid, grandkid and great-grandkid in the family has a gold heart for each of them. The first two were me and Coppertop.”
“Wow… and you saw it happen!” Silent Flight said with excitement.
“That said it all, Coppertop!” I said with a smile. Sara kissed us both before letting go.
“Is Puck ready to go?” she asked.
“Fully fueled. Have to recharge the water tank and dump the sanitary before shoving off.” I told her.
“You do that, I’ll get our son settled.” Sara said possessively before leading Coppertop inside the RV.
“Stick me with the dirty work, eh?” I muttered as I went around to the side, to the water holding tank fill spout and chores.
“That’s your job, Rapid Transit!” she called out before heading inside Puck. Somehow, I knew that was going to stick…
“So Gramma gave you your name!” Silent Flight giggled.
“She did. Fits, doesn’t it? Come on, kids, let’s head inside. I smell rain coming.”
“That’s right, Grampa. Should be here in a few minutes.” Silent Flight said.
“Then, let’s go inside. Being cold is okay, being wet is okay. Cold AND wet, no thanks!” Rapid Transit grunted as he got up off the grass. “More tomorrow, okay?”
Author's Note
Four down, one to go, then the epilogue. Should be done and up by the weekend.
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Chapter 5- Finding Home and Family- 2 Feb 16
The next day, Rapid Transit was called in to work, covering some trips his granddaughter Silver Strider would normally do. As a result, it wasn’t until after dinner that he was able to resume the story. The twins didn’t mind, because they got to spend time with Great-Grandma and checking out her side of the story.
They gathered in the yard, where they made themselves comfortable, Soaring Heart joining the group. “Now, where was we?” he asked.
“Gramma just gave you your name, and you got Doctor Coppertop!” Silver Spiral supplied.
“Okay, I remember now. We’re almost done with the tale.”
We spent the night there, cleaning Coppertop off, showing him some of our lessons on being a pony, and most especially feeding him- he was truly desperate for some real food. Sara (who wanted to be called Soaring Heart) gave him her bed and we shared mine. The boy was definitely hungry for affection and caring from us, his real parents not showing him much, if any. We did. By nightfall, Coppertop was now truly one of the family, as if he had been born to us.
Coppertop showed he definitely had skills with the computer. He showed me some features my old laptop had, and I had it for a year plus. Of course, I had to show him how to manipulate the keys with a pen between his teeth, but he picked up on it quickly enough.
The next morning, after some topping off of tanks and showing Coppertop how to do so, we set off on Interstate 44, destination Paris. The boy salvaged only a few things from the van, his computer, game console, portable DVD player, DVD’s, and his Bluetooth headphones. I had to fiddle with the headphones some so they could fit his pony head, but we improvised something that was reasonably comfortable for him to wear.
One of Coppertop’s few faults was that he just did not like the music Sara (pardon me, Soaring Heart) and I enjoyed, which made the headphones welcome. Honestly, we felt the same way about his. We went about twenty miles up 44 before something came to mind that could help him. In fact, all of us. I pulled Puck over and parked. Excusing myself, I headed outside and telegated back to Phoenix. Once there, after saying hello to the dogs, I went inside and found six Bluetooth enabled wool caps, along with the batteries they required. I had known about them, but I could never figure out how to get them to work.
“WE like your music, Grampa! It’s fun!” Silver Spiral said with a smile.
“It is, ain’t it? That’s why I like it.”
“More like WE like it, love.” Soaring Heart added, giving Rapid Transit an affectionate nuzzle.
I telegated back and presented the wife and kid with my haul. After pleased hugs and kisses from the pair, Soaring Heart took the wheel while Coppertop and I got the headsets working and doing a bit of trimming to the hats, making them headbands. They were definitely more comfortable to wear than the headset.
Once we managed to get three headbands working, Coppertop looked at me with his golden eyes shining happily. “Thanks, Dad.” he said to me while giving me a head hug.
I head-hugged him back. “You’re welcome, son.” I told him, meaning it. He felt it, and so did Soaring Heart.
“You’ve been more of a dad to me this past day than my real one was to me these past three years.” he whispered into my ear as we hugged.
“All I can do is the best I can do, and the best I can do is all I will do.” I whispered back.
“Love you, Dad. And Mom, too, but she’s driving.”
“Love you too, big fella.”
Later that day, after a fuel stop and driver swap, we were on course approaching Fort Leonard Wood when we saw something we were not expecting. A red flare in the sky, followed by two more. Surprised, I pulled Puck over to the side of the road. Sara got out to do an aerial search while Coppertop and the dogs also got out, but staying on the ground. I looked around, fixing the site in my mind in case we had to do a getaway. I wanted to make sure I could get back.
Sara returned about twenty minutes later. “I found another pony!” she called down as she was landing. “She saw us on the road and sent up the flares! She’s been alone now since November.”
“Is she heading this way?” I asked once she was firmly on the ground.
“She should be here in about ten minutes. She wanted to get her act in gear first.”
“Not like we’re in a real hurry, right?”
It was more like fifteen minutes later when a hummer pulled up in front of us, coming the wrong way down 44. It was driven by a green and brown unicorn with a cutie mark that resembled a four-way lug wrench I had stashed inside Puck, who managed to get out while making it look easy. She came up to where we were waiting and saluted us as best she could.
“Sergeant Amelia Rastor reporting, sir!” she snapped out.
“You brought Grammy Amy here, too?” Silent Flight said.
“That I did. Her grandson is your father. Fine fellow he is. I’m glad her stiffness didn’t get passed on to him, though.”
I returned the salute in best Hawkeye Pierce fashion before saying, “At ease, please. My Navy days were thirty years ago.”
Visibly, Amelia relaxed. “Thank you, sir. You are the first people I have seen in several months. I’ve talked to a few on the radio, but I’m not much of a radio tech. I’m a mechanic, keeping the motor pool up and running.” she explained.
“Good! Can I get you to check over the RV? I never was much of an auto mechanic, my time at sea was spent as a mechanic on a submarine.” I said, then smiled. “The one time I tried to change the oil in my truck by myself was hell’s own mess.”
“Sure!” Amelia said with a smile. “Just follow me and I’ll take you there. It’s about ten miles from here. I go there every once in a while to refuel and refresh, but I have been spending much of my time monitoring the freeway. Looks like my guess was right.”
“Let’s do this. All aboard!” I called out. Amelia got into her hummer, my family into Puck, and I followed the hummer to the motor pool. The gates to the fort had been pulled down somehow and moved aside. I followed her to the garage area, and followed her directions pulling Puck into a bay.
We all got out while Amelia did her checks, except Sethra. After twenty minutes, she came up to where we were waiting. “Good thing you found me. You got a small oil leak somewhere. Don’t you know anything about car maintenance?” she asked me.
“Yeah. Take the truck to Gruelich’s garage once a quarter for an oil change and checkup.” I answered.
“Well, hope you’re not in a hurry. I can fix this up, have it all running better, but it will take me until tomorrow. Maybe less, if you’re willing to help and do as I say.” Amelia snapped back.
“By your command.” I droned like a Cylon warrior. Everyone got a laugh out of it, even Amelia.
“What’s a Cylon, Grampa?” Silver Spiral asked.
“A character from an old TV show that spoke like this.” Rapid Transit droned, to the amusement of the children and his wife. They liked it when he did his funny voices.
The next day, we pulled out, back on the road to Paris, Amy driving Puck. We were loaded with some car care products I never thought we would need, but that’s what I get for thoughting on my own, right? Amy was indeed a better driver than I was with the massive vehicle, I never really liked driving anything bigger than a pickup truck.
Amy told us about herself while she drove. Originally from Florida, she joined the Army right out of high school, asking for mechanic training. She was good with wrenches and such to begin with, her family running a full service station and repair shop since before she was born. She decided to stay in and make a career out of it, because she liked what she was doing, and few men ever hassled her twice. She had done several tours overseas, but would not say much about it. After ten years in the Army, she was a sergeant, having passed the next rank tests twice, but getting busted shortly after because she would not stand for any harassment.
We, in turn, told her about ourselves and where we were heading. Amy liked the thought of being around others again, having been alone for months. We did compare notes about using our horns as hand replacements, finding out she was much more coordinated than I was, but I could do things she couldn’t, like the lock pick spell, the find-it spell, and most importantly the telegate spell.
“Too bad you can’t look ahead with that. Would save drive time.” Amy commented as we neared St. Louis and I-255.
“I can’t go to where I don’t know, only to where I have been. The first trip is the hardest. After that, it’s easy.” I told her in reply.
“Let me tell you of the first time he drove through the gate.” Sara said. I decided to head aft and prepare some more bread dough. When girls get to talking like that, I know to go someplace safe. Since I could not gate to Timbuktu, and didn’t want to try opening the gate at highway speed anyhow, the back of the bus was safest.
“Girl talk…” I muttered as I broke out the flour and dough mix.
“Yeah, girl talk can get boring.” Silent Flight said.
“Does not!” Silver Spiral shot back.
“Does too!” Silent Flight responded, not at all silently.
As Silver Spiral went to give a heated reply, a loud cough from Rapid Transit silenced the twins in their tracks. “Sorry, Grampa.” They chorused as they sat back down.
“MUCH better, kids.” Grampa snorted before settling down to resume his story, said settling down interrupted by a wing slap from his wife. “Hey!”
“Girl talk, eh?” she snorted.
“Got that right, Dad.” Coppertop said from the bed, where he was trying to read a book. I knew the boy was smart, and he just proved it to me. We shared a smile of companionship as I got the dough made up and poured it into the bread maker. Sara closed the curtain between the drivers seats and the rest of the vehicle, so she and Amy can engage in girl talk.
By lunchtime, we had made it to St. Louis. We stopped and picnicked at the Gateway Arch before setting out again, I taking the wheel, Coppertop moving to copilot, the girls claiming the back of the coach to keep on talking.
“Another four to five hours to Paris, and a community. You looking forward to being there, son?” I asked as I drove.
“Yes, I am, Dad. It sucks being alone. I just hope I can learn more about being an earth pony. I can’t fly like Mom or move things around, like you.”
“I know there are earth ponies there. The lady I talk to, Alex, she is one. She’ll know where to put you for schooling.”
“Good. I like school. I just hope my appetite settles down, now that I’m a pony.” He told me as he munched on a granola bar.
“I think you are. You ate a lot more yesterday than today. Time will tell. Time, and a good doctor. They have one there, an earth pony named Oliver. We’ll all go see him for a checkup. We all can use it.”
“Sounds good to me, Dad. I just hope they don’t ridicule me.”
“If anyone does, just look them in the eye and say ‘is that the best you can do?’ and leave them be. You like yourself, right? If you want to change, you’ll have our support. If not, you’ll still have our support. You won’t have to worry about that.” I told him, giving him a playful poke in his soft barrel.
He caught my hoof between both of his and held it gently. “I won’t ever forget it, Dad. You and Mom don’t try to force me to change, like my human parents did. You like me for me.” He said so earnestly, it touched me deeply.
“I do, Coppie. One thing you’ll learn about me is that I’m not in the habit of spewing a line of bull to people. If I know something, I’ll teach it. If I don’t know something, I’ll admit to my lack of knowledge and do the best I can. You deal straight with me, and I’ll deal straight with you. Start feeding me a line of bull, and I catch it, the punishments will not be forgotten. My parents raised me that way, and it worked. I hope I can see my dad again.”
“Do you think he will be a good pony?”
“Once he recovers from the shock of it and gets his wits back under him, I think he’ll do just fine. He is very wise, kind and generous. Cross him, and the butcher shop may have some mystery meat on the shelves.
“I learned a lot of being a man from him, and how not to be a man. These past years he’s been a drunk, had intestinal issues, had glaucoma hit so hard he had to give up driving. His only entertainment is the weekly poker game, and any treats I get for him.
“Hopefully, his Return will fix many of the illnesses he has, and make him sensible again. I do miss him a lot, despite his increasing stupidity. I promise to make a safe, loving place for him to return to, in time.” I managed to wind down, releasing emotions I have kept in me.
“Could you teach me to love you as much as you loved yours?” Coppertop asked innocently.
“It will take time, but, yes, I can. We have to do it together, okay?”
“You got it, Dad!”
“You really miss your daddy, don’t you, Grampa?” Silent Flight said quietly, both foals picking up on Rapid Transit’s grief.
“I sure do, kids. Those last five years, he drove me insane as his health declined. Many’s the time I hated him, but I would not go back on my word to care for him. I still won’t.
“I got this feeling he’ll be back in the next fifteen years. He’s stubborn and perverse enough to come back on a special anniversary day of some sort, like his birthday, his anniversary, or something else significant to him. That’s why I had the old trailer rebuilt, cleaned and restored as best I could, in the hope he will come back. I also left a recording crystal there, with an alarm signal, for when he does. Knowing him, he’ll probably come back as a jackass!
Rapid Transit sighed. “Almost done with the tale, then off to bed with you two.”
“And you as well, love.” Soaring Heart added. “You’ve had a busy day.”
We arrived in Paris a few hours later, getting to meet with the little lady on the phone, Alex. She helped get us settled in for the day, showing us around the town, where the ‘housing tract’ is, and gently quizzing us on what our talents are. She told us to visit the hospital for a checkup the next day (it being almost dark when we arrived) and where to meet up with everyone after lunch, for assignments. The start of a new life, one where we felt like part of a whole, not just isolated ponies.
“It’s been a busy hundred years plus, but as they used to say in my day, ‘What a ride!” Rapid Transit said before he looked at his twin great-grandchildren. “More stories at another time, kids. It’s time for bed for you two.”
The twins got up and hugged him close between them. “We love you, Great-Grampa.”
The old unicorn hugged them both back, sniffling a little. “Love you both too. Come on, let’s have some of Great-Gramma’s oatmeal cookies before bed. Deal?”
“Deal, Grampa!”
Author's Note
One more chapter to go.
Chapter 6- Epilog- 6 July 124 AE
Charlie came back into being at the same spot where he left. He did notice differences, like it was daylight instead of the darkness of the early morning hours, the power was definitely off, and he felt different. Better than he had been in quite a while.
As he was realizing that he could see clearly, he heard a click before hearing a voice. His son Dominic’s voice, to be precise. “Dad, don’t panic. You’ve been changed into a pony, but, you’re healed. All the problems you have had these last few years, forget about them, it’s all in the past.
“Come on, Dad, don’t be a stunatze! Sit down, take a few deep breaths, and somepony will be around real soon to bring you to my home. Keep calm and don’t panic, okay? I hope to see you soon! Love you, Dad!”
The message started repeating as Charlie got a grip on himself. Yes, he did feel much better than he had been, he could see clearly, but he was now a horse, a brown and white horse.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to look. In the kitchen, he saw two small horses, one that was silvery-coated with a black mane and tail, and a white horn coming from its forehead, with a silver spiral running through it. The other one was a sky-blue in color, with white and red striped mane and tail, and red and white wings. Yes, wings.
“Hi, Charlie! We’re the Welcome Wagon, sent to greet you!” the silver one said.
Charlie coughed some before finding he could speak again. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m Silver Spiral, and this is Silent Flight.” The silver one said.
“We’re twins.” The winged one added. “We just need you to do one thing for us, to prove you are who we hope you are.” He reached under a wing to pull out something with his mouth. A small black box with a cleaver mounted inside it.
Charlie looked at the cleaver in the box, seeing the little plaques inside it. “Yeah. That was presented to my father when he retired to Florida. The whole family presented it to him.”
“Just WHERE did the presentation take place?” Silver Spiral asked.
“At the Deer Head, my uncle Ernie’s bar over in West Nyack.” Charlie said, more than a little stunned. “Why is the box black instead of brown?”
Silent Flight put the cleaver back under his wing. “It is you. Great-Grandfather will be so happy to see you. He’s been hoping all this time you would come back to him.” he said before both he and his sister blushed some, both of them clapping their tails to their rumps. “We broke the frame when we were foals. We got spanked for it.”
“Great-Grandfather? Who is your great-grandfather?”
Silver Spiral took that one. “Your son Dominic is our great-grandfather. It is July sixth, one twenty-four AE, what you would call twenty-one thirty-nine AD.”
“So, I’m two hundred years old today?” Charlie asked, getting weak in the knees.
“That you are, great-great-grandpa. Great-Granddad predicted you would appear today long ago, and made things ready to welcome you. We’ve been training for years to be your welcoming committee.” Silent Flight told him.
“Where’s Dominic?” Charlie asked.
“We’ve been sent here to take you to him. He’s quite old now, at a hundred twenty-four, but he never gave up hope you would arrive before he passed on.” Silver Spiral told him. “Can you walk or should we carry you?”
“I can walk!” Charlie said irritably. Slowly, clumsily, he did, walking around the living room.
“Good!” Silent Flight said as Silver Spiral concentrated. A silver beam came from her horn, forming a silver disc in the air. “Step through it, and we’ll head home. Rapid Transit said to say it’s a bit of good magic, like Star Trek, okay?”
“Just do it quickly, I can’t hold the gate open more than forty-five seconds.” Silver Spiral said distantly, maintaining focus on the disc.
Slowly, Charlie stepped through, followed by Silent Flight and Silver Spiral. When the mare went through, the disc collapsed into a glowing point, then nothingness.
Author's Note
In memory of my father Charlie: 6 Jul 1939- 1 Oct 2015. I'm giving you another chance, you old stunatze. Now I think I can finally say good bye, good luck, good spirits and move on.
