Chapter 9

A Harsh Morning

The second morning within Equestria for Melissa was heralded by the warm autumnal sunrise lighting up Turnover's bedroom. A torrid night of interrupted sleep had passed by after Turnover and herself had wrote up the letter for Turnover's Ponyvillian cousin. They had planned to mail it off later in the morning. After finishing the writing up, the sun had not yet broke past the horizon, so between the two they decided to at least try to get more sleep.

While Melissa had bouts of interrupted sleep, the same could not be said for Turnover. Even though the night prior to last had provided the comfort to Turnover that his presence could still sleep, the night just experienced had demonstrated the other side of things, proving how horrid a situation it would be if Turnover could only stay awake, existing within a blank, black void as Melissa slept.

But, Turnover wasn't discouraged, this was something of his own mind's doing, and it wasn't the first time, or even uncommon for himself, that he stayed awake throughout a night. He was an Apple after all, and if there was one thing the farming family knew was the long hours of work and comparative short time of rest they often had during Apple-bucking seasons. So not having a single night's sleep didn't faze Turnover. As Melissa's presence came into being, slowly awakening, Turnover meekly welcomed her back saying “Good morning there sunshine.”

Equally groggily, Melissa raised a fore-hoof to one of Turnover's eyes, rubbing it awake. “Hey Turnover... you got much sleep?” the voice of Turnover croaked out as Melissa spoke out to the empty room, not awake enough to make the conscious decision to telegraph the question internally.

“No less than I sometimes get when the farm's at the busiest” Turnover reassured.

Melissa took Turnover at his word on this, choosing instead to focus on getting their shared body fully awake and stretching their fore-hoofs forward producing a slight groan, before trepidatiously elevating the rear of the pony to stretch in much the same way a cat would. “Enjoying yourself there?” Turnover teased, although he had began to miss the feeling of his own body and his own movements.

'Well... I would if you didn't have the body of somepony having a mid-life crisis!” Melissa teased back, continuing “I mean seriously, what are you doing with your body?!”

Stepping down from the bed, Melissa piloted their body through the motions needed just after waking up, freshening up primarily. Soon Melissa and Turnover found themselves downstairs, on the threshold of the family's kitchen and ready to receive breakfast.

Inside they found a spread of breakfast goodies laid across the dining room table as equally as lavish as they had yesterday. 'Ahh... Is this how I can be expecting breakfasts to just be here Turnover?' Melissa questioned in an incredulous tone, pressing emphasis on the 'just be'.

“Shouldn't be... Ah reckon if anything, they put this on for big sis', given all what she gone through.” Turnover reasoned, before jovially continuing saying “But if ya want this Melissa, we can tell Ma' 'bout it... Ah'm sure she's open for the idea more-so now!”

At this point in the conversation, Carnation herself made her presence known, spotting her son appearing to be frozen and zoned out at the threshold of the room. “Ah! Good morning my darling! Did you sleep well?” She asked from over her left wither, before turning in place, fore-hoof raised and presenting the buffet on the table before them. “Made this for your big sister this morning. And when I say 'made', I mean I made it myself... If it's fair by you darling, could you wait until she's here to begin eating?”

“Eyuup, she pure-as-all insisted she handled breakfast today, to make it up to y'all...” the heavy accent of Champlain chimed in, the patriarch sitting at the far-end of the table. He was sat cradling a cup of coffee resting between his hooves, and following his wife's orders, had not seemed to have eaten anything that was placed down in front of him either. “An' she also insisted she cook everythin' herself. Did her best, Ah'd say, so just give'em a try.”

“Well, ah promise not to touch 'em until big sis' gets down here.” Melissa promised, holding a fore-hoof to somewhere she expected the pony's heart to be located, and hoped that the 'hand on heart' symbolism translated into pony as well.

Turnover's attention was occupied elsewhere to be bothered inspecting Melissa's actions. His focus was completely on the cup of coffee nestled in Champlain's hooves. The only time that Turnover had a coffee or a tea in the morning was during those early-morning rises of Apple-bucking season, but the lack of sleep he had over-night was just as affecting on Turnover as those early-mornings. Noticing a natural lull in the conversation among all present, Turnover reached out to Melissa. “Melissa... Could ya' kindly ask Ma' or Pa' to make us up some coffee?”

Melissa did so for Turnover. She had never been much of a coffee drinker herself back on Earth. Champlain raised from his seat to brew them another cup of coffee, which soon found it's place in front of Turnover's fore-hoofs. Internally, Turnover was pleading to any force that would listen; Celestia, Luna, even hedging his bets that Twilight or even Cadence would be able to answer his humble request that he would receive the blessing of the coffee's effects, and it wasn't yet another thing deprived to him by not having control of his own body.

However, after Melissa had a few sips of coffee, Turnover was left devastated when the buzz of awakening he would have expected did not manifest for his being. He could sense everything still; the warmth of the drink, the rich taste of the beans, even the growing energy he felt within his body, but his tired mind remained such.

Meanwhile, Melissa was having a better experience with the coffee. Never had she tasted a better coffee. After the first sip, for all that followed she took a small moment to savour the taste and texture, and to form some thoughts about the world she was in.

The thought process followed as such. If each pony had a cutie-mark that identified their best skills, the things in life they enjoy the most, and then if every pony then utilized that skill as their job, then everything produced in Equus must always be a better quality than the mass-produced, fully automated, cheap products found back on Earth. It would be like every item would be hand-crafted, artisan, and highly personal to the crafter. That is, as far as she could tell for this farming family. Maybe there was such like automation and mass manufacture, but she hoped not.

While both Melissa and Turnover were lost in their own thoughts, Lobo had appeared in the kitchen.

The first to notice Lobo's presence was Carnation, turning around at the sound of approaching hoofsteps and putting on the warmest of smiles she could give through some amount of nervousness. “Good morning Lobo my darling! Have you slept well?” Opened Carnation.

“G'mornin' Carna... Ma'” Lobo cut herself off, quickly correcting herself as she made conscious effort to be kinder herself to Carnation. “Yeah... slept fine enough thanks.” She concluded, before her eyes fell across the spread of food on the table, cocking her head to the side. “What ya' do all 'dis for Ma'?”

“Well, it's all for you dear! I wanted to make an effort for you this morning. All of your favourites, hoof-made by myself!” Answered Carnation, that applied smile on her face growing more genuine at the pride she held in doing this for her newly re-sparked relationship who she hoped would become her daughter.

“Well... ahh... Thank ya mightily Ma', but... do you got anythin' else?” Lobo had scanned the table over, and the various goodies that Carnation had baked for her. They were all some form or variety of vegetarian pastries, from apple-filled produce to pancakes paired up with a boat of syrup. However, Lobo could not feel drawn to any of it this morning, despite Carnation having gotten every item that was usually a favourite of hers spot-on. Instead she had harboured a different craving, one which she could not lay a hoof on at that moment.

Carnation was struck by a wave of dejection, causing her to drop that smile she held, hesitating before responding “Hmm... well... I suppose...” A second wave of confidence and resolution gave her an updraught of determination, and she continued “... It's no issue dear! But I do say, why don't you pick up some of what I made you, while I get whatever it is you are wanting done for you?”

In return, Lobo was now hit with a feeling of dejection falling upon her. This dejection transformed into a growing sense of frustration from somewhere inside her. She needed, wanted, something else that she couldn't identify. What it certainly was not was anything laid out on the table. “Nah. Ah won't worry myself on any of that Ma'.” Lobo blurted out, while scooting her way around the table and towards the kitchen cabinets.

Her muzzle now raised into the air, Lobo began sniffing around the cabinets, opening them systematically but impulsively as she left each cabinet she opened, wide-open. This she was feeling was the best way she could attempt to sense something that would satisfy her cravings.

Carnation looked on bewildered, figuratively pushed aside by Lobo as she barrelled her way into the kitchen-space in search for something. Carnation's jaw hung open in attempt to prompt the formulating of a rebuttal. Champlain at this stage interjected, targetting what he was to say to Carnation. “Carny-hun, let'er get what she wants first. Ah'm sure there's plenty an appetite their after yesterday an' all for everythin'” he reassured, before he turned his attention over towards Turnover. “Ah think ya can start eatin' up now.”

Both Champlain and Melissa began to pick-out their selection of breakfast items, Melissa with the greater enthusiasm, piling up her plate with food. Carnation joined them shortly after they began, after some further prompting from Champlain to leave Lobo to her own deeds. Carnation had proceeded to pick out food with low energy as she began to become lost within her own thoughts and emotions.

Behind them at the kitchen-space, Lobo had finally sought out what she was craving, sort of... finding a box of eggs among the cupboard, she knew that they were not what she needed, but it was something she had a gut feeling about that it would satisfy it enough. Setting them on the counter by the gas hobs within the kitchen, she had to hold herself back from just devouring the eggs raw as they are, pushing herself to at least have them fried up first.

At the table, Carnation found herself struggling to focus, eating slower than the rest of the family as internally she began battling herself. On one side, she felt confused, rejected, and saddened that her attempts to make niceties with Lobo had to her been so harshly denied. The other side had pressed Carnation at the point that Lobo challenged her to throw out any progress she had made with her daughter and to berate her once again for purposefully rebelling against her in a scornful manner. It was hard for her to ignore that that side of her had a strong argument. Surely, Lobo's rejection of this breakfast that she had purposefully poured her heart into as an olive-branch had meant Lobo had decided to ridicule her once more for ridiculous reasons. And nothing had changed from the previous day.

It was only the contact of hoof on hoof, as Champlain reached over the table to rest a fore-hoof on his partner's fore-leg, and the accompanying reassurances uttered by the stallion, that kept her grounded enough to keep repeating that they both want to become better for each other as mother and daughter, with a strong, loving bond there. And that she had to continue being strong and keep at it with all her efforts to get to that.

Lobo promptly completed frying up the eggs that she had cracked open, slopping them onto a plate before taking her seat beside Turnover and Melissa. She glanced over the laid out spread on the table once more, before her muzzle flinched quickly in a scrunch, a movement that nobody else surrounding the table had noticed. She sat, slowly eating the eggs with as much enthusiasm and pace as Carnation did. Lobo still did not feel satiated, but there were other things that she felt a gut craving for, and it continued to frustrate her like an itch that refused to be scratched.

The rest of breakfast passed with uncomfortable silence. Lobo was the first of the table to finish and take their leave, heading out to try and figure out what was eating her up inside. She had not touched a single item of the hand-crafted goods on the table, resulting in Carnation's head dropping onto a set of crossed ore-hooves held close to her chest with an audible thud as she let herself fall into the side of her that fought on behalf of confusion, dejection, and resignation. Champlain continued his best to reassure and positively re-enforce Carnation, but seemingly with little effect.

Melissa and Turnover departed from the dining room not-so-soon after.

After a brief detour to pick up the letter that was neatly folded into thirds inside an envelope from within their bedroom, Melissa and Turnover were on route back towards the village centre.

“Hopefully...” a yawned pronunciation beginning Turnover's sentence “...Everythin' gone well, this letter should be at Sweet Apple Acres by next mornin'.” He completed in explanation to Melissa. Turnover had barely barely kept awake throughout breakfast, now fighting himself to keep his presence awake. During the breakfast, he had began to realize just how grateful he should be for how dependent on it he was for carrying him through Apple-bucking season. The lack of coffee this morning, and the following lack of the awakening effect it usually had really emphasized the reliance he never knew he had in it.

Melissa followed the route that she had followed Turnover's directions for the day prior, simple enough as it followed the banks of the river that slithered through the forests separating the farm from the village until thus mentioned forests began to peter off to infrequent small farms and cottages. Through the entire journey, the pair had remained silent. Melissa could make an educated guess as to why, reflecting on the breakfast they shared among the family this morning. So she had decided not to press any conversation with Turnover unless he reached out to her first, until they proceeded into the village far enough that the forest had completely dissipated to be replaced with the density of the centre of the village.

At this stage, Melissa stopped herself at a bench that was closer to the bank of the river and sat herself on it on her haunches, choosing this time to summon Turnover out of his funk. 'Turnover, you good friend? We're here... well at the village at least.' Melissa began, trying to rouse Turnover from his distracted state.

When no answer was returned from her mind-space room-mate, Melissa pressed again. 'Turnover...? We're here hun...' When Turnover didn't respond for a second time, worry began to grow within her. 'Turnover, do you need to talk about any...' Melissa began to ask, hoping that this gambit would break Turnover out of whatever distracted him, but the questioning was interrupted by a mumbled noise from the presence of Turnover. Melissa's question then proceeded to collapse on itself as she drew out the final '...thing'.

The annoyed grunt of a mumble was followed by what sounded at best interpretation as “Jus... gim' five mo' mins Pa'.”

'You have gotta be kidding me!” Melissa proclaimed internally, stressing the emphasis on the 'gotta'. Finally she had a clear understanding at least of why Turnover had been quiet and ignoring her. 'Come on Turnover, don't leave me out in the cold here!' Melissa followed up, this time telegraphing the sentiment directly at the sleeping pony within their shared brain. Melissa didn't even recognize that Turnover could sleep in the position he was in.

'Oh lord... Turnover! Turnover! You better get up, I swear to god...' She basically shouted at his presence. 'Uhh... should it be swearing to Celestia? Does that mean it should be “Oh lady” instead of “Oh lord”... “Oh Princess?”' her mind raced in attempt to stem oncoming panic by latching onto something from her last attempt. 'Turnover, please wake up' she continued pleadingly.

Panic grew exponentially as realization that the more time passed that Turnover didn't wake up, that she'd eventually just have to go on without him to deliver this letter of utmost importance, and that she'd be doing it solo for the first time in this unfamiliar, weird world she found herself trapped in, and worse, she'd still need to do it posing and acting as Turnover without his input. Melissa hadn't realized just how much an anchor Turnover was being for her these past few days... and it didn't hurt that there were other issues that she was distracted by.

'Turnover, don't make me throw our body into the river to wake you up... if that would even work...' Melissa spouted as an empty threat that even she was unsure the effectiveness of. She would rather not get Turnover's body drenched, of which she should be the only one having to deal with the effects of it for the rest of the day, and that was one of the better outcomes that could come from that action.

After more moments of silence between the two on the bench in front of the river, which provided the only sounds at that moment alongside the rustling of the autumnal leaves, Melissa finally gathered her own bravery enough to know that in this situation she now faced, the only way forward would be solo. 'If you managed to collect yourself when you first came Mel... you can do it all now' she encouraged herself, thinking back to the moment she found herself fresh to Equestria, and repeating the advice that Turnover gave when she had her first panic attack in his presence.

“Lets take a good deep breath here, okay” the memory spoke to her, and she followed it's instruction. It almost felt like Turnover was back awake and telling her to breathe. But another quick prod of the snoozing stallion dismissed that feeling.

Melissa then produced the letter they were making the trip to send in the first place, staring at the closed envelope, with Melissa's best approximation of the Ponish spelling of Applejack that she had the knowledge off. At least, she knew and understood what each letter looked like, but lacked the muscle memory for. It was interesting in it's own way, what was kept and what was forgotten by Turnover's body when Melissa became it's driving force.

Melissa applied another deep breath under the instruction of the memory she summoned, she thought about the whole purpose of the letter. They were now finally reaching out and getting a start on understanding at least how to reverse this, and hopefully they would be able to send her back home.

She held a slight smile, before stating some more reassurance to herself 'You can do this Mel! If this don't... no, no... until this works itself out, you can't be completely reliant on Turnover. Anyway... it's only posting mail...'

She then stood from the bench, head held up high in a show of confidence to herself more than anybody else. 'And you, Mr.“I can stay up all Apple-bucking season”... you gotta tell me what that means sometime... anyway! Sweet dreams' she cheekily prodded Turnover a final time, before resuming their journey into the village.

Author's Note

Melissa is now shot unceremoniously into her first solo actions, and interactions, in this world. She may not be quite ready for it... but at the same time, she has a good head on her shoulders... err, withers.

So we're now officially at the point where the stocked-up chapters have been posted, Chapter 10 is being written so... We'll see if this weekly upload stuff can go for at least another week, that'd be nice for lil' ol' me who has a taaaad issue with commitment. Maybe expect a week off before my next chapter.