Green told us she found a way out.
“There’s an abandoned mine, up north over there. BIG told me so in passing, and he got no mind to lie when drunk. Come with me, we’ll hide in that mine for a week or so until they stop looking for us. They won’t think to check for us in there. It’ll be smooth sailing once they’re gone, I’m telling you.”
She fed everypony this same line in the same hopeful tone, but we all refused her one way or another. Green never was the smartest out of the bunch; she took everything said to her at face value, a virtue that leads to nothing but danger in a world like this. Besides, who knew where the mine exactly was? What if they caught her before she made it to the shelter? Would they really leave the mine alone? At the time, I thought there was no mine at all; it certainly wasn’t beneath BIG to lie to one of his workers about freedom so that he could indulge in the pleasure of punishing her.
We didn’t bother to warn her about the potential trick. None of us thought Green would leave, anyways. Just like all our dreams, it should have been just a fantasy. Wouldn’t it be nice… that’s what it was. That’s what it all was.
But one day, Green defied us all: she actually escaped. BIG and his goons pulled us up from our sleeping mats and ordered us to tell us where she had gone. He spent most of his time looking for information from the whores, who Green was with, and when he left their shack a few of them were crying with fresh bruises. None of them caved.
He could have thrown us into Tartarus then, locked away the key, and we still wouldn’t have said anything. Because Green had actually done it. This wasn’t some half-baked, run-as-fast-as-you-can suicide mission. We all began to believe her plan would work.
I know now that every beautiful thing given to a worker is too good to be true. We have broken the law, and therefore we deserve to be lied to, cheated, spit upon. That’s why Green was so infuriating. She was too nice, an innocent not yet aware of the hard times ahead. I saw her with BIG when she first arrived, and I noticed the slow snuffing of her spirit, and I thought that was it. She’d soon become like us: dead souls, looking to retire before our contract ran up.
So it’s what made Greens escape so inspiring and, in the end, damaging. When the scouts came back screaming and their hooves empty, we all couldn’t be happier. We agreed to meet in the cellar, after dark. We didn’t care if we got caught, because it wouldn’t diminish the fact that, for once, we won the battle.
That night, when we feasted on stolen bread and laughed as loud as we dared, we felt hopeful. Maybe there really was a way out, and it all laid in the depths of that mine.
But our new ambition led us blind. The idea of freedom took over our minds, and we became blinded to all common logic. BIG kept watch over us like a hawk in the days since Green escaped. He long gave up hope of finding his lost worker, he instead focused his attention on maintaining his current assets.
Our plans were unspoken and unshared, but we all knew it was only a matter of time before one of us would make the run, and chase the dream that Green achieved.
Perhaps we were too foolhardy. One of us finally did make the run to that mine, but he was reckless. He started too late, ran too slow, and went in the wrong direction. The scouts found him a mile east of the mine. They either put two and two together, or they got him to squeal.
BIG came back with that gleeful smile that terrified us all so and said with much vigor that we shouldn’t even think about going in that mine anymore. He said he’d punish all of us if he didn’t already get his fill.
The escapee- whose name has long since left my memory- never came back to us. He’s probably in that mine, strung up on ropes and bleeding forever.
Just like that, BIG snuffed the hope out of us like a hoof on a candle flame, just like he did when we first came into his clutches. We all went back to work as soundless, mindless slaves, working without thought until we finished our contract. And that contract, the one false promise that dangled freedom in our faces, gave us no hope; once you reached the end, they took you to the woods to do goddess knows what to you. It sure as Tartarus wasn’t any freedom.
Once again, we were trapped.
However, I still had a tiny candle flame inside me that moved and sputtered, and with time it grew. Where I saw grey in my fellow workers' eyes, mine were still as green as grass. I just thought that if Green found one loophole out of our cage, there must be another one lurking nearby.
I still had hope, and it would soon engulf me.
Two years before I ended up where I am now and two weeks after the incident at the mine, Brown stole one of BIG’s silver cups. BIG didn’t care to notice, but Brown acted like it was one of the greatest heists that Equestria has ever seen. He comes down the stairs to the cellar, holding up the thing like it was the head of his enemy. I’m busy cleaning the cups from BIG’s wooden cabinet, he kept down here, despite all the dampness and cold fogging up the glasses every damn hour. Brown shoves the thing right at my eye, and scares me out of my skin.
“My nerves! What’s so important you have to shove something right in front of my damn eye like that?”
He just flashes a cocksure grin and rattles the cup right next to his pear-shaped head. “I stole one of BIG’s cups. Right under his nose, too. He was looking at us cleaning up, and I just snatched it right in plain sight. I swear, he looked right at me, and he didn’t even register a thing. His eyesight must be going, I’m telling you.” He then barrels right past me and makes his way to a corner of the cellar, where there sat empty wine barrels that had been in storage before I even arrived. He opened one right up, and almost threw the cup at the bottom before shutting the whole thing back up again.
Unhappy with being just a bystander, I decided to voice my thoughts on his ridiculousness. I chided him, “There’s no point in stealing that cup, it’ll make no difference when you’re out.”
“You're wrong about that, miss. My contract’s running out this Thursday, and I have a lot to catch up on. I had a family before this life, and I know they’re still waiting for me back in Hoofington. I’ll sell this cup, and get us all on the right track.”
“You fool. They’ll kill you, don’t you know?”
Brown just shook his head and gave me a little wink. “Nah miss, you ain’t know that for sure. I’ll be free, I gotta believe that. When’s your contract up?”
“Why does that matter?”
“You know why. Now tell me.”
“Two, but it doesn’t mean nothing. You leaving means nothing”
“It means everything, miss. I’ll see my family again either this week or when I'm in the afterlife. I’d prefer to see them sooner than later, but I ain’t got no say in that, so I ain’t choosing to be picky. It’s freedom either way.”
“Death ain’t no freedom. Death is death.”
“If that’s how you wanna see it, fine by me. But I prefer to be optimistic. See you around, miss.” Before leaving, he gave me a friendly kiss on my cheek, and I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t bristle at the warm contact.
As long as I’d known Brown, he was always stubborn. He never carried that attitude around BIG, but his fellow workers sure got to deal with it. You couldn’t get a word in edgewise with him; he was a master of arguments. He was always real nice though, and just like me, his hope was rejuvenated thanks to Green, however ignorant that new hope may have made him.
Brown thought that on the day of his leave, he’d have time to take back the cup and hide it under a cap, but he didn’t have time. They took him early in the morning before he had time to wake. Just like everypony else, he was gone, his fate secret to us all.
I still left the cup in the wine barrel, despite the danger of doing so. There was little chance it would get found, anyway. The barrels got refilled once a month, but I choose the barrels to bring out. So all I had to do was roll up the other barrels, and nopony would look twice for the cup.
The real reason though was that I didn't want to risk it. I didn’t want BIG to pin the cup on me, and I get beat for it. I needed my strength for my escape, which I had been planning reverently in my head for weeks now. I knew I would make a run for it soon, but I still had time before I would come up with the final plan.
It was only half-baked ideas, suicide traps, and miracle-dependent dreams so far, but I wasn’t giving up. The idea of freedom, more so than the realization of it, is addicting. So while I slaved away in that cellar, pumping out wine for BIG and the aristocrats and ambassadors and dear, dear friends that dined up in the dining room with the expensive crystal chandelier that flashed green and white light from its spot on the ceiling, I took in the comfort that I could one day stick it to them. I silently tell them where they can shove that contract I was forced to sign, and I’ll run away to a town nearby. Then came the nonsensical future: I’d raise a family, find a high-paying job, and pass away peacefully while enjoying the ocean view from my bedroom window.
Back then, it was a long shot. Now, an impossibility. But whatever I could convince myself of to keep my hopes up and spirit free, I jumped at. Ignorance really is the best motivation.
That Friday afternoon, the new Green and Brown came in through BIG’s front door. I was in the dining room, cleaning and setting down glassware for an upcoming luncheon. BIG insisted the good glasses are kept in the cellar along with the good wine, despite how cold and clammy it gets down there.
I heard the sound of Riders’ horseshoes coming down the hall towards the room. Rider did all of BIG’s dirty work for him: he went to town to find new workers; he brought ponies to the woods when their contracts expired; he was the one who brought you to BIG’s office for your punishment. He was one mean old monster, big as a gorilla, and not an ounce of love in him. He’d hit you with those iron horseshoes right in the stomach, and you couldn’t breathe right for weeks. He’d laugh at you too, like the Sun Queen herself.
He came in the room with a black, wide-brimmed hat and a hateful sneer. He looked at me like I was scum, and pointed a hoof at the table.
“You almost done?”
“Yessir. I only have a minute left.”
He nodded and gestured behind him at the two new workers behind him. They were both young, and couldn’t have been older than sixteen. The colt had a pepper-colored mane with a shaggy brown coat. He had bags underneath his eyes, and he looked scared out of his mind. When Rider pointed at him, he flinched like a bear just clawed at him.
The filly looked a little more proud than the colt. She had her lime green chest puffed out, and her eyes were squinted, hardened by something. She still looked a mess, with even a small tree branch sticking out of her ice blue mane, but she looked defiant as all Tartarus. It would take a while for BIG to break this one.
“Is Yellow here? Blue? Black?
I shook my head. “Yellow is helping Lily with the garden, and Blue and Black are in The Bath.”
“Right, as they should. Dirty bread stealers."He spits out a big loogie on the floor, and rubs it in the planks with a hoof. "Anyways, I gotta go talk to BIG up in his office. Keep an eye on these two for me.” He flashed me a death glare, and I couldn’t help but shudder as he walked away.
The colt squeezed his eyes shut as he heard Rider’s horseshoes scrape against the wooden stairs to BIG’s office, and only when all sounds of him were gone did the colt relax. He walked on over to the yellow flower wallpaper on the other side of the room. He leaned his whole body against it as if he could submerge in it and end up in a different world.
I noticed the filly near my leg, looking up at me like she was trying to measure me up. I gave a friendly little smile as I put down the last of the glasses.
“Well hey there,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about me, or any of the rest of the workers here. We’re all on each other's side, you’ll see.”
She glared at me as she shook her head. “Naw, I ain’t interested in you lot. I’m not supposed to be here you criminals. My daddy is, and he decided to drag the rest of us with him.”
“I understand. It certainly ain’t fair, but it’s what happened. You signed the contract, right?”
“They made me sign that darn thing. They practically signed my name themselves.”
“That they did, but that still means you’re as much of a criminal as the rest of us.”
She sneers at me but doesn’t respond. Instead, she looks around the dining room and all the attention-grabbing furniture BIG cared about so much. Her eyes lingered on the beautiful chandelier that rocked softly even though the windows were all closed. Then she looked back at me and waited to stare, and suddenly, for what looked like the first time, she saw my right eye. She pointed at it like it was some artifact from ancient times.
“What happened to your eye?”
I can’t see out of my right eye; Rider made sure of that. There was a jagged scar running through my eyelids, the top part touching the creases of my forehead and the bottom touching the middle of my cheek. It was big and ugly, a bleeding red with flecks of black and brown. The eye is now closed for as long as I’m alive, behind the lids lying only jelly and bone. I still don’t know how it wasn’t the first thing the girl focused on.
The memories come back painful, but I somehow manage a small smile. “This little thing? It was a work accident, is all. Fell down on my own knife when cutting the onions. Unfortunately, my pretty face had to pay for it.”
She nods, though I get a sense that she sees right through my fib. At least she feels bad for me, and her glare softens. I decide to change the subject, for her and for the colt who is now squeezing his eyes shut so tight his coat is turning red.
“How long you got until you’re finished?” I ask.
“I got five years. Is that a lot?”
“No, it ain’t. Some ponies are here for twenty years. But after those years, we’re all let go and have our own little life.”
She takes away her glare at me and smiles. “Five years and then freedom? Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.”
“It really ain't,” I lie.
The filly is calm, and she turns her head up to the ceiling. She frowns. “What’s taking him so long?”
I shrugged. “BIG doesn’t like being disturbed. Rider’s one nasty stallion, but he still runs on BIG’s time. So if he’s doing something, Rider has to wait.”
She cocks an eyebrow at me, and says “BIG? That’s the priest’s name?”
“It sure is, and don’t call him anything else unless you’re looking to lose a tongue.”
She flinches back as if just saying it will make it a reality. For the first time since I’ve seen her, she seems frightened. “Does he do that? Really?”
I try my best to smile, but I’m afraid it comes off forced. “Only if you anger him, so just follow his orders and you’ll have nothing to worry about. You and your friend there.”
For the first time in the conversation, we both turned to look at the colt against the wall. He didn’t seem to be paying much attention to anything; he had his eyes gazing absently at the scrubbed hardwood floors and hoof tapping against the wallpaper.
“I don’t know him. They picked him up after me.”
“Nonetheless, you should treat him like family. You’re both in this together, so you have to learn to count on each other and everypony else. You understand.”
Before she was able to nod out an answer, Rider's hooves strike against the stairs once again, this time accompanied by another, more hollow sound that sounded like a fist striking a dead tree.
The filly jumped and looked at me pleadingly. “Will they brand me?”
I suck in a hard breath. Not this question. Anything but that damn question. My underbelly starts to ache as I process the question over and over.
The steps are louder now, sharp and crackling like a whip. She’s staring at me. She needs an answer.
“Yes,” I blurt out. Her face flushes a pale white, and before I can elaborate and ease her worries and tell her it’ll only hurt for a moment if she just stays strong, BIG enters the room with an excited grin.
“Well, well, well mares. What have y’all been talking about.”
“Nothing BIG, sir, “ I say obediently, like a good worker. Like I just didn’t leave a filly afraid of the bad, oblivious to the better. I start shifting carping the table, moving the glasses a little to the right, a little to the left.
I see his eyes bearing down on me, and when they leave I feel no relief.
“Come on new blood, we’ll discuss business outside.”
I hear him walking away, and I sneak a look at the children. The filly doesn’t look back, and the colt looks like he wants to disappear forever. I feel like I failed somehow, and my own private candle starts to die.
Down the hall, with one final taunt, BIG calls out, “Thanks for the help, Red!”
