“What a nightmare,” Vice-Principal Luna muttered under her breath.
She gave her broom an extra-strong push, then leaned against its handle. The janitorial contract prohibited work after eight o’clock at night, so when the cross-country team had tracked mud down the hallway, guess who got to clean it?
The moonlight glowed over the trees outside the window, and with her back groaning as much as her voice, Luna resumed her work. Why did the moon comfort her so much? Ever since her childhood, she’d always found a quiet peace simply watching its unchanging surface. A rather attractive prospect in a world that never seemed to stand still and enjoy anything.
As she now couldn’t, since the cross-country team had late practices every day this week to avoid a scheduling conflict with the junior high volleyball tournament being hosted here. And then, of course, the pep rally they’d held to send the soccer team off on the bus to their season opener. Just the leftover moonlight, sloshing around and filtering through the cracks, as the moon itself remained low in the sky, well behind the trees.
She jutted her lower lip out and blew the accumulated dust out of her bangs. And then came the sharp clack of hard shoe soles from one of the adjoining hallways.
“Hello?” Luna called, but immediately, a figure tumbled over the trash can Luna had left around the corner. Or at least she assumed so, given the sound. But there the unwitting victim lay, face-down on the floor.
“Beggin’ your pardon,” Applejack said, somehow doffing her hat while prone. “Didn’t think anyone else would be here.”
“Nor I,” replied Luna, offering a hand to help her up. “Students really shouldn’t be on the premises at this hour. And I apologize for leaving that trash can there.”
Applejack flashed her a guilty smile. “Cleanin’ up after the pep rally. I didn’t wanna leave it for tomorrow. I’d rather get it over with so I don’t have it hangin’ over my head later.” She held up the loose end of a mooring rope. “And it’s my own fault I tripped. I was walkin’ backward to stretch this out and coil it up proper. Didn’t look where I was goin’.”
Ah, yes. That hot-air balloon they’d employed. But it would surely take her hours to deflate it if she hadn’t begun yet! “Do not worry about it,” Luna replied. “It is not your responsibility.”
“No, but we borrowed it from my cousin, and I’d like to make sure it gets back to her in good shape.” She laughed a little, and her geode twinkled in response, drawing Luna’s eye. “Yeah, that too,” Applejack said, glancing down at it as well. “Makes it easier for me to do the heavy liftin’ than anyone else. Plus, y’know, it just speeds by when everyone pitches in.”
Luna raised an eyebrow and peered down the empty hallways. “Everyone, you say?”
“They all helped before they went home, and I don’t mind pickin’ up some o’ the slack. Speakin’ o’ which—” Applejack gave the rope a mighty tug “—I haven’t bled the hot air out yet, so I gotta keep it tied down. Once it gets started, I can leave it overnight, and it’ll be ready to go in the morning. Burner’s still too hot to pack up now anyway. Still a few things I can get done now, though.”
“Go home,” Luna said with what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. “It will keep.” They had calm winds in the forecast tonight, so it should remain quite safe. Applejack might even find it lying on the soccer field tomorrow, neatly folded, if Luna had enough energy left by the time she finished cleaning.
“I will. Eventually.” Applejack had taken a few steps toward the exit as she coiled the rope over her shoulder, but she stopped and peered back at Luna. She had a… strange squint to her eyes. “You okay?” Applejack said.
Not too many students asked after her. In fact… had any ever done so? Luna slumped against the wall, and a curious warmth circled her like a shawl. Her hair fanned out as she looked down, but she did peek at Applejack through the tresses.
Luna didn’t need to trouble her. But when she didn’t answer, Applejack continued: “Tell ya what. I’ll let it go if you do.”
Let it go. Like it was that easy. All this work, this muddy floor, lesson plans to approve, cafeteria orders to make, too much. “Do not worry about me.”
Applejack frowned. “I think…” Her voice sounded far less firm, and her eyes flicked toward the floor. “C’mon. We’ll get a little more use out of this thing,” she said, brandishing that rope and waving a hand at the door.
No, she had duties, work piled up in her office, and if she delayed any more, she’d never get home at a decent hour.
“We only shut it off maybe forty minutes ago. So it won’t cost me much time in gettin’ it cooled again, and I can still have it mostly deflated before I go.”
Luna sighed. Then she felt her broom move and prop against the wall. A hand pried her fingers off it, then another hand on her shoulder.
“It’ll keep.”
So Luna walked down the hallway with her in silence. Out the door, to the field, where the basket still sat tightly anchored, and the fabric had barely begun to dimple. It felt like a dream, walking on clouds, and an hour could have passed without her knowing.
No, no, she’d simply climbed in, and it only took a short time while Applejack fired the burner and played out some of the anchor line. They rose slowly until a slight jolt said they’d reached the limits of their tether, maybe fifty feet high. But Applejack let out just a little more rope, and… and…
Up in the silver.
The last scrap of altitude, carrying them out of the shadows, and just over the trees, the moon shone on her face. A deep breath, hold, feel the little frosty tendrils creeping over her shoulders, down her arms, into her fingertips. At times like this, it felt like she had wings.
No words, just the gentle moon, the utter calm. And with a friend, it seemed.
“Thank you,” she breathed onto the wind.
Author's Note
At BronyCon 2018, Scribbler hosted a quick minific event, where everyone had to use some randomly decided things. Just because they would have governed the choice of characters and setting here, I think they were some combination of Applejack, Vice-Principal Luna, Canterlot High, and a hot air balloon. iirc, Vivid Syntax was chosen the winner. Anyway, this was the piece I came up with for it. The original version was shorter—we were limited to one side of a sheet of paper and had about an hour to write.
