An Empty Bliss Beyond This World

by The Seer

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad, Sugar Belle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1636

"You know," Sugar Belle began, looking into her son's eyes, "One of these days I'm not gonna wake up when you shake me."

"You know," Sugar Belle began, looking into her son's eyes, "One of these days I'm not gonna wake up when you shake me."

Winner of the Palette Cleanser Contest for the Quills and Sofas Speedwriting Group . Originally written in an hour, this version has received some mild refinement.

Published 2020-09-30 18:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2020-09-30 18:10:00 UTC

Caretaker

“Did you enjoy it?”

“‘Did’? That’s a little presumptuous, honey. I’m still technically not done.”

The two of them laughed, but it was staticy, hard to discern. Big Mac was blurred, like looking through frosted glass.

It was enough, though.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes. I suppose I do. I got to see their children, I got to be there for all of them. But they all live somewhere else, now. The truth is, there’s always been a part of me waiting to follow you. You took a piece of me with you, after all.”

“I don’t like to think about you like that.”

“Que sera, sera and c’est la vie. Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t be the same if you were in my position.”

“I guess you’re right. But I’m not in your position.”

“And that’s a good thing, honey. I wouldn’t like to think about you like-”

“Mum?” Sterling said, shaking her awake, “You were breathing funny again.”

“What? Oh,” Sugar Belle muttered sleepily, “Well, I’m an old mare dear. Snoring comes with the territory.”

“No… it wasn’t snoring,” he said frustratedly, chewing around the words, “You were… look, just take your tablets, okay?”

He slid her a bottled-water and helped her get the lid off her medicine bottle. Sugar Belle took the pills, but it was only really for her son’s benefit at this point.

“You know,” she began, sounding the words through a dry mouth that water had done nothing to moisten, “Sometime, one of these days Sterling, I’m not going to snore anymore. And I want to make sure that-”

“Mum!” he snapped in a harsh whisper, prompting a couple of the other passengers to turn and stare, “I’ve told you I don’t want to… Why did you even want to make the trip if you’re not well enough?”

“Sweetheart,” she laughed, “I know you’re just trying to look out for me, but I’m hardly gonna get more well anytime soon, am I? No, no, it was now or never.”

“Can you please stop this? We’re gonna get to the ballroom tomorrow. Then we’re gonna turn around and board the train back home.”

Sterling had turned to stare out of the window, a scowl plastered on his face. Sugar Belle moved closer to him, and started to gently stroke his hair. She could see a part of him wanting to break, a wobble of the lip and glaze of the eye betrayed him.

So she pulled her hoof back, and did him the courtesy of pretending to read a book for the rest of the journey.

Sugar Belle laughed and clapped her hooves together as Sterling uncorked the champagne. There was something about the way his face lost all it’s worry for a moment, and he could simply bask in the small pride of popping the cork the way Applejack had shown him to do it.

Sugar Belle loved him so much. So much it made her chest hurt.

She took a sip of the glass he’d poured her. The truth was, she’d never liked champagne all that much. Far too bitter, it coasted on the name alone. But Sterling liked it, and pretending to enjoy the drink made Sterling happy. And while there was breath in her body still, she’d continue to do that.

“So you’ve never really told me what you and dad did here?”

“Well, it’s a hotel, darling. We slept here.”

“No no,” he said, snorting with laughter, “I mean, what did you do here? The town, the ballroom. I remember going with you when I was younger, but what did you and dad do when it was just the two of you?”

“We’d come on our anniversaries,” Sugar Belle replied, smiling wistfully, “They’d play the most beautiful music there. I can only half remember the sounds these days, it’s like listening through a broken radio. But I remember how they made me feel, when your father and I would go and dance. I suppose that’s more important.”

“And how did they make you feel?”

“Like… we were stationary. There was something immortal about it. Like we were outside of time. We’d stay up until the wee hours dancing to the music. And even as we got older and the dancing hurt more, we’d still do it. Being there for you kids was a chance to run around, getting lost under all the chairs. I used to love seeing you all playing there. But for us… it was a way for us to stay young. I think that’s why I dream about it so much.”

Sterling kept his eyes on his plate, pushing vegetables around with his fork.

“A very happy birthday to you,” he eventually piped up.

“Oh gosh,” she replied, clinking her glass against his, “I’d forgotten, after you’ve had as many as I have they all just start to blur.”

“To many more,” he added, a note of urgency in his voice. His eyes didn’t relax until she clinked her glass against his once again.

Sugar Belle watched him as he ate. She wondered whether he’d start speaking to her in his dreams one day. She hoped not. She didn’t like to think of him like that.

“Say, Sterling, I’ve been thinking lately about all that maths you do at work. I was thinking about the geology.”

“Geometry,” he instinctively corrected.

“Yeah, yeah that’s the one. I was thinking about parallel lines. They’re kind of neat, aren’t they? Very satisfying, very tidy.”

“Uhm,” he replied, taking a sip of champagne, “I guess you could say that?”

“Yeah, but here’s what I was thinking of. If you have parallel lines, they look all tidy, right? But they never touch. There’s no real connection. It makes me think, what’s the point of being parallel if you never… do you see what I mean?”

“Not really,” he said, and started staring at his food again. And Sugar Belle let him have this moment of pretence. Even though she was his mother, and she always knew when he was lying.

“I told you to get separate rooms,” Sugar Belle chastised breathlessly. Sterling didn’t reply, and just focused on getting her into bed.

“Take your tablets mum.”

“Fine, pass them to me.”

He rummaged around in her bag for a second before finding the bottle. He then rubbed her back as she took them.

“Sterling,” she began, feeling bolder after having so much champagne, “One of these days, I’m not going to wake up when you shake me.”

“Mum!” he cut her off, “Please! Let’s just focus on getting you to the ballroom tomorrow, then we can get you home,”

“Just… just listen to me sweetheart, okay? I don’t want any part of you going with me, okay?”

“It’s your birthday, mum. Can’t we just focus on that?” he replied, sniffling, “I don’t wanna think about you… not yet. I’m not ready yet.”

“You know, Sterling, when I dream all I do is talk to Mac. Sometimes our friends are there, sometimes it’s just us. But everytime I do, I’m young again. So’s Mac, so’s all of them. Even Granny Smith. I don’t remember exactly what they looked like, but I remember how they made me feel. And it makes me think that… ponies don’t imagine themselves my age on the other side.”

“But you’re not on the other side, mum.”

“I worry about you Sterling. I worry that you’re going to be old before your time. That you’re gonna start dreaming about me every night and think that all you want to do is get where I am. I don’t want you to spend your life talking to me in dreams. I want you to keep going, with all your brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews. Will you promise me that, Sterling? Would you do that for me?”

“Yeah mum, I’ll do that,” he replied, before the dam broke and he was sobbing like a foal, head on her chest. But it was okay. Sugar Belle was going to be around a tiny bit longer, and she’d never stop being Sterling’s mum. So she stroked his mane like she did when he was a foal and let him exorcise whatever demon in him still clung to the memory of a mother that could pick him up in her arms still.

“We’ve still got the ballroom though, right? Tomorrow?” he asked, crying still.

“Of course, love. We’ve always got the ballroom.”

Sugar Belle walked steadily through the doors. Her children flanked her on all sides. All their children were there too, running under chairs. But right next to her was Sterling, and though he still wept, he smiled as he walked her over to Mac.

And then the music started playing again, and Sugar Belle beamed at the rapturous applause as she and Mac started the dance. And through it all, as her children faded away, as Sterling’s final glance over to her was consumed in an oblique haze, her husband got sharper and sharper.

And so too did she, and all the guests. Applejack and Granny Smith, all her friends and relatives crystalising. And the music! Something more beautiful and evocative than she’d remembered until now, finally losing its fuzz and getting closer and closer still to perfect again.

But not so perfect in memory that Sugar Belle could predict what note or melody would come next. So without prediction or anticipation, Sugar Belle allowed the smoky figures of her children to disappear entirely, and focused on the young, strong features of the husband she’d not seen clearly in years.

She got lost in his clarity, and moved with him, never knowing what might come next. She simply enjoyed the dance, and hoped against hope that it might never end.