One of Us--Part 3:In which we return to the present

Part 3: In which we return to the present

 

 

>"Gah! Good grief, Anon! Don't spook me like that!"

"Oh, sorry." Anon pulled his work mask back down, goggles and all. He had fallen asleep on the way back, and it was now late at night in the desert town.

>"Thank'ya kindly. Now, what are ya doin' with that there bag in ya arms, if'n ya don't mind me askin?"

Anon looked back down at the bag still in his arms.

"Oh, uh, it was about to fall off the bench," Anon stammered, "I didn't want the bag to open, uh, jostling around the cabin like that."

>"I reckon' yer right."

Anon let out a small sigh of relief behind his mask.

>"What'cha gonna do with it now?"

"I'm going to have to study it a little."

>"What for? Can't ya just box 'em up with the other two?"

"Standard procedure, Sheriff," Anon gambled a bluff, "there are things about my operation you're just better off not knowing."

The Sheriff's eyes narrowed for a moment, but he conceded.

>"I reckon you're right, Anon. Thank'ya kindly for your help, it's dirty work, but somep0ny's gotta do it. I'll let the Princesses know how well ya did in my report."

Anon nodded and headed to the train station with the burlap sack over his shoulder, trying to look as inconspicuous as he could while avoiding unnecessary bumps. With his height, most ponies didn't notice, and the ticket booth pony didn't either. Anon found an empty car in the back, since he couldn't stretch out in the crowded cars toward the front, and set the bag on a bench. He considered opening it.

 

The walk from the train station back at P0nyville to his house let him keep to the outskirts of the small town, so no one asked questions. The door to the log cabin was kept closed by a large rod connected to an even larger heavy wooden plank on the backside of the door. Anon was the only one who could reach it, let alone lift it at that height. The setting sun poked light into the dusty one-room cabin, illuminating a path to the small single bed in the corner, and he walked over to set the precious cargo across it. Anon struck a match and lit a lantern, setting it on the desk next to his bed. Everything in here seemed comically over-sized to ponies, and the bag took up so little space on his bed.

He sat down on his single wooden chair and stared at the bag for a moment, wracking his brain to figure out what to do. He couldn't just let her --no, it!--out, he needed some way to contain it, but he also couldn't keep it in the bag forever. What was he doing? There was something different about this one, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

The sides of the bag rose and fell with the steady breathing of the changeling inside, but she hadn't awakened yet. Anon walked outside, back behind his cabin, and grabbed a wooden crate. It looked large enough for her, and the top was missing. He brought it back in and set it near his bed, then lifted her off his bed to set her inside, but the hard wooden bottom of the crate seemed a little too heartless to let her sleep on. He set her back down a got out one of his large winter blankets from his footlocker and stuffed it into the crate, making a little nest for her--it!--to sleep in.

Before the tie at the top of the bag came completely undone Anon closed the door and let down the plank, just in case it panicked.

She inhaled sharply when Anon opened the bag, covering her large blue eyes with her swiss-cheese legs, and Anon shushed her with a gloved hand as he pulled her out and gently placed her in the blanket pile in the crate. He made sure her wounded wing was on the top, and he could see the crusted blue blood around the stump, along with the blue around her mouth. He would need to clean all that up. Her weak neck turned her head to look around the cabin, and she drew her legs in close, shaking. Anon pulled the blanket and let it down across her shivering form, making a note to get something for her obvious fever.

Keeping her in sight, he pulled his knife out of his boot and cut the burlap bag down its seam, tying it taut across the top with a rope he pulled out of his footlocker.

Anon sat for a moment looking at the crime in front of him. :Well, I guess it's a little late to turn back now:, he thought, :I can't just send her back to Canterlot with the others:. This wasn't any way to live, even for a changeling.

In the stillness of the cabin, the only sound he could hear was her strained breathing. Anon needed to make something better. He took off his goggles mask, donned the one for casual wear, and headed out back out to Ponyville.

 

>"Well howdy, Anon!" Applejack greeted him warmly from behind her stand, "Back from Dodge already? How's the critter-chasin' business?"

"Business is good, AJ," Anon replied, and pulled out a small bag of bits from his coat and smiled. "I'll take a half-peck, please."

>"Glad to see yer still in one piece. Find anythin' about yer fancy quest?"

Anon picked up his bag.

"No word from Canterlot yet, but I doubt they'll find anything. I'm not much farther along since last time."

>"Well I believe in ya, Anon. Just keep tryin', all that hard work'll pay off someday, just you wait!" She smiled wide and pushed the bag across the counter to him.

"Thanks, AJ." Anon returned the smile and grasped the saddlebag by its hook, letting the pony in line behind him forward. He had to turn around to motion to the cowering mare that he was done and it was ok to go. Applejack rolled her eyes.

The next stop was the cafe on the main road. He got five flower sandwiches to go for a few bits and a dozen strange looks for free. As he picked up a small vial of medicine from the clinic, Anon mulled over all the places he knew to get pet cages, but he didn't think it would go over well if he bought one big enough to keep a pony, and he doubted Fluttershy would like him to cage something that needed something so big. The windows back home were strong enough, he figured, so he headed back home.

He made it all the way to the Everfree Forest before someone stopped him and asked him about his strange cargo.

>"Greetings, my dear friend Anon," Zecora said in her rhyming voice, "how well has your trip gone?"

"Ok, I guess." Anon shrugged. "Just getting some things to eat from town."

>"Oh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and looked him up and down.

>"Is that so?

>For you to eat, so you say,

>but I know there's nothing you like at that cafe."

"Sure there is," Anon lied, "I just never got any before."

>"To friends it is not nice to lie.

>Perhaps you have a different alibi?" She walked up and looked into his bag, a small grin forming on her face.

>"Anon, I know the terrible things you eat,

>and nothing inside this box is meat.

>Yet along this path I have seen nop0ny pass,

>What you be hiding, you lying ass?" The grin was now part of a mischievous look on her face, staring him in the eyes.

"Oh please," Anon tried to put on his best poker face, stifling the smile from Zecora's use of the new words he had taught her, "I'm just--"

>"Anon, enough of your wordplay,

>I have had enough of your dodging for one day.

>The success of your quest is not known,

>and you do not want to live it all alone.

>One kind of creature that changes face

>May have in your heart found purchase."

Anon's pokerface failed him for a moment, and his eyes widened involuntarily at her discovery. She smiled in playful indignation.

>"Even under that mask your face says yes

>Who knew you would admit to such a wild guess?

>On your emotions I thought you had a handle.

>When word gets out it will be such a scandal!"

"Come on, Zecora. This one is different, I know it!" Anon pleaded, "And I know changelings, OK?"

Her face told him she wasn't convinced.

"Look, the ponies gave me a chance, ME. I'm just passing on some goodwill here, ok?"

>"Silence is difficult on something so strange

>Perhaps we could make an exchange?

>I could make you a bargain that is fair."

Anon narrowed his eyes at her. The last lined hadn't been rhymed, so she was excited about whatever it was she wanted from him. He played along.

"Which is?"

>"You can give me all your hair."

"What? How?"

>"Whenever you get your head shaved

>Just make sure the clippings are saved," she said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Why do you want my hair?"

>"Anon, if you only knew

>The power your parts give my brew

>You would want to get them too."

Anon sighed in relief. The blackmail wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be, since something that grim wasn't like Zecora at all. She had been pestering him, though, for "samples" from him since she had formulated her own theories on his origins and the magical properties contained therein. He had just been too busy to give her the odd things she had requested, and it seemed kinda weird too. He knew she'd keep his secret, but from now on he'd have to remember to ask the barber for his clippings next time.

"Sure thing, Zecora."

>"And next time you come to see me," she said and started walking,

>"Please stay awhile to have some tea," and with a smile and a wink, she left down the path.

 

Anon closed the door and let the plank fall freely back into place with a loud thud. He walked over to the desk to set the food down, listening. He could hear her moving a little bit inside, so he sat on the end of his bed and slid the crate over to in front of him.

"You awake?" he asked the burlap-covered crate.

>"Y-yes," the small voice replied from within.

"Ok," Anon paused to take a breath and gather his thoughts. "The walls of my home are made of whole tree trunks, the windows here could withstand a raging bear, and the door can't be opened by normal ponies, and most unicorns couldn't do it with magic either. The grate on my fireplace is made from tempered steel, and the chimney narrows beyond the ability of your kind to shift. There's no one else here, and nop0ny ever comes to visit me out here."

The box said nothing in response.

"Point is, there's no chance of escape unless I let you go, OK? I'm going to untie the burlap from the top of that crate, but I don't want you freaking out and trying to escape." Anon reached out and put his hand on the tie.

>"Oh," the voice said with a weary sigh, "I understand."

Anon blinked a couple times, not sure what to make of her response. He began to pull the string.

"I have some food and medicine here for you. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to ask you some questions..."