Of Rocks and Showmares

Chapter 1

trixie

A baby blue mare with a moonly silver mane entered through the glass door of the unemployment office. Her head was hung low, and her eyes dared not at wander from the ground. She wore an outrageous, pointed hat and matching cape. The wide rim of the hat had been pulled down to shadow her face. As soon as she entered, she drew hushed whispers and snickers from every pony in the room. Without seeing them, she knew they were nudging their friends, pointing at her, and letting everyone else know that they Great and Powerful Trixie had arrived.

Cruel words floated through the room. Of course none of them wanted her to hear them, but no matter how quiet these ponies tried to be, they just weren’t quiet enough.

”Hey look, isn’t it The Old and Has-been Trixie?”

“Has-been? She was something to begin with? You give her far too much credit.”

“I heard she floozied her way through magic school.”

“Ha, nopony would even bother with that now.”

Everywhere she went, this had become her existence. Sometimes the comments were lighthearted, more fun than flame, even to the point where she could laugh with them. Other times, they were the sort of pure venom that rung her head late at night and early into the morning. Words were words though, and no matter what anyone said, they couldn’t bring her any lower than she was. Some say that hateful words hurt more than any punch, but she had bruises beneath her cape to argue that point for her.

Once she had made the mistake of thinking that her hat and cape were what drew attention to her. She thought that she could go out into public incognito without them, that she’d just be another pony going about her business. What she learned was that some ponies are even crueller when they can see their victim cry.

At least wearing such a large hat kept her tears to herself.

Friends on the other hand, were completely out of the question. The last friend she had was a pegasus named Breezy. She was a fan who turned a close friend. The ‘Breezy” days were the last time she considered herself happy. She wasn’t anything special besides a pony who listened and cared about her.

That ended quickly. After Breezy publicly defended Trixie from a mob, they chased her down, roughed her up, and clipped her wings. After a long night of apologies, accusations and tears, Trixie forced her away out of sheer guilt. She didn’t want to see anypony else hurt because of her.

Still, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t like a friend, or that she wouldn’t give absolutely anything for one.

As Trixie neared the end of the line, the whispers became silent like they always did. Ponies usually didn’t have the gall to insult her to her face. They were spineless in that regard, but occasionally, they did scream to her face. She didn’t know which one she preferred more.

About ten minutes later she reached the front of the line. At the help desk, she pulled her hat down even more.

“My, my isn’t it The Great and Powerful Trixie?” the mare at the help desk said.

Trixie’s voice was calm and smooth. “Ah, it seems you’ve heard of Trixie.”

As soon as she spoke, the whispering resumed. The ponies around her apparently thought she was deaf while she talked.

“Yeah, I have. I used to be a big fan,” the mare leveled with her.

Trixie didn’t look up. She didn’t look away. She simply stayed still and calm.

She didn’t like when ponies were nice to her. Nopony was ever nice to her, just different degrees of mean. She’d seen this before and it was the worst degree. Initially they were pleasant, friendly even. As soon as she opened up her heart even a smidgen, they’d beat it back down.

“Trixie does not have fans anymore. She is no longer an entertainer. That part of her life has passed,” she replied.

“Well, I did say ‘used to be’.” The mare was a bit taken aback. “How can I help you Miss Lulamoon?”

“You know Trixie’s story, no? Given where we’re at, isn’t it obvious?” She motioned to the large, opaque words plastered to the inside of the glass windows. They read “Unemployment Office”.

Trixie paused. The mare opened her mouth to speak, but she cut her off.

“Trixie seeks employment.”

The mare just closed her mouth and raised her brows. She opened a drawer and searched a rather robust file filled with potential employers. Everything from retail shops to manufacturing to food service was available. There was a particularly lucrative business partnership with a convention committee that came up earlier. Trixie would be a natural, but now the mare was disinclined.

“Tsk, tsk ,tsk... It appears like I only have one lead at the time,” she said smugly, singling out an application. “A rock farm.”

She handed the application over and Trixie snatched it out of the air with her magic. She read it beneath the shade of her hat. A few moments later she spoke.

“A rock farm?”

“Yes, given your work history, it’s all I can do for you.”

Trixie cracked a pitiful smile. Never in all her life did she feel so pathetic. Months ago, she had a successful, profitable show with legions of fans at her whim. She had money, influence and friends; everything she could have wanted. Now, she cried herself to sleep every night. She avoided the public like the plague, and she was always hungry.

Trixie read over the job description.

Farm rocks

She let out a mad, cackling laugh, silencing the whispers for a second. Only a certain sort of morbid curiosity and self-pity drove her to her decision.

“Trixie will be a rock farmer then!” she announced in a pained, merry tone.

“This is Sue,” Clyde introduced. “Blinkie and Inkie. They are my family, and don’t think I need to tell you, but in case I do. You will treat them with respect.”

Trixie nodded understandingly. She had considered introducing herself as The Great and Powerful, but that trick hadn’t worked so well with Clyde at the train station. After he ridiculed her and put her in her place, she was quiet. She was starting to understand what it meant to have a broken will. Even now she felt like she was merely shuffled from place to place, doing whatever anypony told her. As depressing as the idea was, there was solace in it. Being a nobody meant she at least wasn’t Trixie anymore.

She sneaked a glance at the three mares in front of her.

The daughter, Blinkie, watched her coarsely. Trixie had seen enough judging eyes in her life to know that this one would be the one who she needed to avoid.

Inkie, on the other hoof, looked almost bored. She peered up to the sky, around the farm and at Trixie, sizing up her and her flamboyant wardrobe.  Eventually her eyes came to rest on Trixie and her deadbeat stare endlessly repeated the same thoughts, ‘Why are you even here? You know this isn’t going to work.’

Sue was a completely blank slate. Her face was plain and devoid of any glimmer of emotion. Her eyes were a wall, barring any sort of reading. They were either dead and simple, or impossibly calculating and wily. For all Trixie knew, Sue could be contemplating how to murder them all and they’d be none-the-wiser.

“Now we start the day at six and end at four. Breakfast is at five, lunch is at noon and supper is at six. We take breaks at...”

Clyde Pie listed off various times that passed straight through Trixie’s bitter, heartbroken ears.

She stood before three simple mares and each one of them looked down upon her in a different way. Trixie was tired of ponies looking down at her. Part of her took the job because she assumed a rock farmer couldn’t look down at anypony. A rock farmer had to be the lowliest of manual labourers and taking this job meant she’d finally see somepony as an equal. Yet, even now, she was looking at the ground, her hat covering her face, while they on the other hand looked proud and stout.

“My oldest, Inkie, will be the one training and supervising you until you are capable of doing work on your own,” he continued.

Trixie looked up to the darker grey mare he spoke of. Inkie let out a muffled groan, letting her breath inflate her lips as if she had been assigned the heaviest labour imaginable. Trixie pulled her hat down further, hoping it might suffocate her.

“Don’t you worry Pa. Trix’ll be a regular workin’ horse in no time,” Inkie replied in forced pleasantry. Her voice was surprisingly soft, wispy and girlish, yet nothing about her tone invited weakness or vulnerability.

“Lastly, you’ll be stayin’ in the guest room. Take the rest of the day to get settled in Miss Lulamoon, but be ready to work by tomorrow. I’ll come by later after supper to check up on you.”

Suddenly shifting from the loud, busy city to quiet, rural nights had made that evening excruciatingly long. In the city, Trixie had always been on the tips of her hooves, ever alert of ponies who’d take their cruel jokes too far. It was a woeful, but necessary distraction. Without that distraction, Trixie was left alone to think and after reliving enough painful memories of being violently chased out of town, tears found their way out.

Somehow Clyde picked up on it. He nearly walked in on her bawling her eyes out, a gift in hoof. Trixie barely managed to compose herself as he knocked.

Out of a practical sympathy, Clyde gave her an inkwell, quill, and some parchment, encouraging her to write to her friends. He told her that it would be good to keep in touch with the ponies she cared about because holidays on a rock farm were few and far between. Having something to look forward to in the mail would help keep her going when the going got tough.

If she hadn’t been so well trained in stage presence, she imagined herself crying at the gesture. Of all of them, Clyde had been the kindest. At least he talked to her and checked up on her, even if it was just for business. The ink and quill weren’t much, but it went a long way to make her feel welcome. She held it as a token of the mutual hardship she was to undertake with them. She promised him that she’d write every single friend she had.

At the end of the night she hadn’t started a single letter.

Trixie woke up an hour early from restless anxiety. In her wallowing self-pity she had an, emotional change of heart. She opened her drawer where she stowed her hat and cape and donned them.

Nothing would change who she was.

In a whirlwind she became The Great and Powerful Trixie once again. She styled her mane and tail, and groomed her coat to the respectable shine of a seasoned showmare. She practiced a few of her showy spells and whispered some confident lines. After throwing a series of dramatic poses in the mirror, she caught herself smiling.

After giving herself some much needed adoration and self-esteem boosting she made her way down to her first breakfast, chin held up high. She thought up a few good lines on the way. The family was already there eating quietly.

When Clyde looked up and saw Trixie, his eyes grew wide then disappointed. For a second, he let his shock communicate the obvious.

“Miss Lulamoon, what in the hay are you wearing...?” asked Clyde in bewilderment.

The question hit Trixie like a train. Here she was, all dolled up for, what only now occurred to her would be, dirty, hard, manual labour. She stretched out her cape and tried to remember her lines, but drew blanks. With the eyes of family on her and Inkie and Blinkie snickering, she threw out the first thing that came to her mind.

“Why, these are Trixie’s affections. She always wears them!” she announced.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to see any of your theatrics back at the train station,” he said. “I read ‘bout you. Do not bring your last job into this one. Now, you’re outta warnings. Go get changed and be in fields in five minutes.”

“Five minutes? But Trixie hasn’t even ate...” she whimpered.

Clyde went back to eating and gave quick glares at the daughters. Their giggling silenced. Trixie met Sue’s dead eyes for less than a second. Trixie stood there, hungrily eyeing the food on the table, before turning tail and walking back up to her room to change.

“So, Trixie just needs to roll them around?” She kicked a rock over and looked up to the grey mare sheepishly. “Like this?”

Inkie let out a sharp sigh.

“I’ll tell you what, Trixie, ya best stop talking in the third person ‘cause it’s botherin’ me a cart load,” replied Inkie. “It ain’t that easy, ya need to follow the rotation.”

Trixie pawed at the rock between them. “So, how is it that you make money off this dreary task?”

Inkie narrowed her eyes.

“I’d suggest that ya change your tone. Last thing we need is some hotshot city mare comin’ ‘round poppin’ her mouth off at us. Us Pies can be real swell to work with or real nasty,” she snarled. “I ain’t gonna think twice about tellin’ Pa that you ain’t cut out for this.”

“Excuse Trixie. Trixie was just wondering how Trixie was supposed to be paid. Trixie didn’t know that Trixie wasn’t allowed to know the farm’s inner working,” she taunted. She instantly regretted those words.

Inkie glared at her.

“What is your problem?! Ya sign up for a job and ya just...” Inkie choked up trying to put her anger into words. “Ya just treat everypony like they ain’t got no brain?! Why’d ya even come here?!”

Trixie winced at Inkie’s outburst. Since her reputation fell, she had learned to avoid ponies who were either shouting or whispering. When ponies whispered around her, their words cut her deep. When ponies started shouting around her, it usually meant she was about to be hurt, badly.

“I—I just needed money...” muttered Trixie.

Inkie didn’t even hear her.

“Ya know what, Trix?! I felt awful sorry for you at breakfast! Seein’ your hungry face made me sadder than a grounded bird. I thought maybe ya might want something to keep ya goin’ so I swiped ya a few scones.”

She opened her bag

“I was thinkin’ we could share them, but now I think I’ll just eat them by myself! Maybe you can go flaunt that ridiculous getup to some cows or something, cause ain’t nopony else cares about it!”

Trixie was silent. Her lip trembled and her eyes became misty. She blurted out a few words.

“Just—! Just—!” Trixie ground her teeth together. Her face burned up. “Just! I’m sorry! And I want to know how the rotation goes again! Okay?!” she exploded finally, turning her face away from Inkie.

“Fine! That’s it! I’m— Wait what?!”

“The rotation! Please! Just go over it again!”

Inkie slighted her eyes at the unicorn.

“You gonna pay attention this time?!” she asked, still shouting a bit.

“Yes... I will.” Trixie’s ears drooped. A few tears had finally broken free and streamed her cheeks.

“Yeah, okay, good... Just give me a moment.” Inkie took a deep breath. “Well, first,” she started before seeing Trixie’s tears. “Hey wait, you cryin’?”

Trixie wiped her cheek and felt dampness. Immediately she rubbed her eyes dry. “No, I just... It’s nothing.”

Inkie spat at the ground.

“Great, now I’m gonna feel bad all day. Made a tender lil’ city mare cry. I’m a champ,” she muttered. “A real champ...”

“I’m not crying! I’m just really frustrated!”

“Yeah? Why don’t ya tell me all about it!?” replied Inkie. “Ain’t never had nothin’ frustratin’ to deal with before!”

Fresh tears surged Trixie’s ducts.She was doing her best to silence her sobs, but she was slowly becoming hysterical. Inkie must have lost it a little because she slammed a nearby rock beneath her powerful heel, crushing it to dust.

“Dang it! Okay look, I’m sorry fer makin you cry like a little filly.” Inkie took another deep breath and steadied her tone. “How ‘bout this? I’m gonna show you how to do this job, you’re gonna shut up cause ya drive me up a wall, and when we’re done workin’, we’re just gonna go back inside and avoid each other. Sound good?”

“Mhmmm...” she whimpered.

“Now, them scones are in my saddlebags. Go get something to eat, calm down and come back when you’re ready.”

Trixie obediently turned around and walked off to the aforementioned bags. Inkie called out after her.

“Hey, Trix!”

Trixie slowly looked back, tears falling silently.

“I’m real sorry ‘bout what I said, okay?” said Inkie with a quick bob of her head. Trixie nodded her head in unison before turning back around.

Inkie sighed and called out after her again. “You’re a mighty big pain in the rear, Trix, but I think you’ll turn out alright! We’ll give you work that you can use your magic to do! Just do the job and keep your big mouth shut!”

Trixie didn’t turn around. Her head was hung again, the tip of her tail dragging across the dirt. Next Chapter: Chapter 2 Estimated time remaining: 47 Minutes