The Pink Pony Girl

Carla slouched comfortably in her thread-bare khaki suspenders with the frayed edges cut ages ago because of the threat of outgrowing them. She slurped the last vestiges of her strawberry milkshake happily as she tapped her Doc Marten-clad foot to Pink Pony Club.

Her mother entered the room.

Carla didn’t notice. Her eyes were closed and the chorus was filling her ears.

God, what have you done? You’re a Pink Pony girl and you dance at the club…

“Carla, sit up,” her mother swatted her leg.

Her eyes popped open and she looked up into her mother’s wide, angry hazel eyes. But were they tinged with a tiny bit of…fear?

“Yeah, Mom?” Carla swung her feet down off the couch and straightened her spine to elongate it as she had been trained to do.

“Your grandparents will be here soon. Why are you dressed?”

Carla looked down at her sparkly black cut off t-shirt, her beloved khaki suspender shorts and the pop of red of her leg warmers followed by her Doc boots with the extra thick soles. She shrugged and said, “I’m already dressed.”

Her mother pressed her lips into a thin almost seamless line and she crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her foot.

Carla rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Got it,” Carla got up slowly and refused to look at her mother as she stomped off to her room.

***

The doorbell rang and she raced down the stairs bursting with excitement. Carla was the first to get to the door. She flung it open and launched herself into her grandmother’s arms.

“Carla! You almost knocked me down, Sweetheart,” laughed Ella as she hugged her granddaughter tightly.

“So no love for me?”

“Oh Grandad,” chided Carla. She disengaged from her grandmother and reached up to hug her grandpa who was almost a foot taller than her.

“Carla, can you please let your grandparents into the house before tackling them for presents?”

Ella raised an eyebrow and turned to her daughter. “Well hello, Tabitha. You’re looking well. And, my granddaughter just wanted to show us some love. Isn’t that right, dear?” Ella patted Carla’s cheek and bussed it gently then glided into the house with the merest nod to Tabitha.

Tabitha sighed deeply.

Carla skirted around her mother and quickly followed her grandmother.

“Hey Kiddo. Looks like the fun and games have already begun, huh?” He kissed the top of his daughter’s head and walked into the house.

“Yes, I suppose it has.”

Tabitha rubbed her temples and closed the door.

***

“Sweetheart, what is this…frock, you’re wearing?” Ella fingered the flowered dress Carla wore. “Uhm, is this a new look you’re trying?”

Carla squirmed a bit and tried desperately not to look at her mother even though she could feel her burning glare on the back of her neck.

“Uhm, yeah. It’s a new thing I’m looking into,” she giggled uncomfortably. “You gotta keep your style options open, you know?”

Ella averted her gaze and glared at her daughter across the room.

“Hmmm. I see. It is an option, of sorts. It doesn’t seem like you though…”

Carla’s eyes begged her grandma to stop. She dared not move a muscle because it would be hell to pay later after her grandparents were gone.

“Ella, stop it,” her husband chided. “This is Tabitha’s child, not yours. She’s raising her, not you. Let her be the parent she wants to be.”

Ella stopped glaring at her daughter and swung a loving gaze at her husband. “You’re such a softie, Tom. However, fair point.” Ella swept Carla into a tight hug. “I just want my baby girl to be who she is.”

“Mother, I’m your baby girl.”

Ella raised her eyes and met her daughter’s. “You’re all grown up now. You’re no one’s baby girl anymore, are you?”

Tabitha’s face froze, pain etched in her eyes. She turned on her heel and walked out of the living room.

Tom sighed heavily. “Ella, why? Why must you do this every time?”

“Why does she try to beat him out of our baby girl?! That’s the real question,” Ella snapped back. Then she looked into Carla’s eyes and said, “Don’t you ever stop being you’re authentic self – no matter who doesn’t like it. Do you hear me?”

Carla smiled through the tears because she already knew what her mother was doing.

***

The day after her grandparents left, her mother made her pack up all of her beloved articles of clothing. Her Docs, her khakis, the goth and grunge-leaning outfits and accessories. All of the posters and knick-knacks that defined who Carla was as a person. It all went into six boxes. The boxes went into the car and the car went to the Salvation Army with mom.

Carla watched as her mom drove away with her life. She looked down at the very Zara outfit with the crisp white boat-looking shoes and refused to sob. Carla ran to her room and let the tears fall.

***

Twenty Years Later

Wearing a bone-colored tailored suit with black accents, Carla strode towards her office knowing that the men and one woman in the conference room loved her pitch. It took hard work and she had spent countless sleepless nights working on the presentation.

She got back to her desk and wondered how long she would have to wait for their response.

Carla plopped into her chair and fiddled with her long curled tresses perfectly coiffed just so.

Her phone rang. She leaned forward and smiled. She eagerly picked it up.

“Hey grandma! How are you?”

“Tush tush. I’m fine – how are you? How was the presentation? What did they say? Did they give it the greenlight?”

Carla laughed. “Whoa, that was a lot all at once!”

“Sorry, dear. Just excited for you. Know you worked your fingers to the bone on this one. Well?”

“Still waiting. I literally just got back to my desk and barely caught my breath. You have a sixth sense, I swear!”

Ella chuckled. “No, I just know my grandbaby. They’ll love it. I know they will.”

Carla’s computer pinged. “Ooo! I just got an email from them!”

“Open it!!”

Carla leaned forward and clicked it open. Her eyes raced over the words and her heart sank.

“Carla? What did they say?”

Carla sighed and slumped back in her chair.

“They said that while it was a fantastic presentation, it’s not the right fit for this company. And, further since I’ve been here five years and made a presentation of this sort that it’s clear I’m not a fit for this company either…”

“They…fired you?”

“Yes.”

They both took part in a stunned silence for a moment.

“Okay, you’re not going to dwell on this. You send that document to your personal email and hold on to it. It’s yours. And, furthermore, you come home to me right this instant.”

“But grandma, I’ve got to figure out…”

“You have to figure out how to get out of town on a Thursday night and get to me and your grandpa in less than 2 hours in that horrible rush hour traffic is what you have to do, young lady. I’m taking no buts, and I expect to see you very shortly,” and her grandmother disconnected.

Carla smiled and felt yet another swell of love for that tough old bird. She pushed back her chair and gathered her things and left the office within minutes.

***

The three of them sat on the back porch and watched the evening stars twinkle, wine glasses in each of their hands.

Carla sipped her pinot and waved at her grandpa with two fingers.

“Are you bit sloshed, my dear?” he asked.

Carla hiccupped and giggled.

They all chuckled and continued to look at the stars.

Ella cleared her throat.

They both looked at her quizzically.

“I know I should probably keep my mouth shut…”

Tom chuckled, “But you know you won’t, so just go on.”

Carla smiled at their loving banter. “Yeah, just say it, Grandma.”

“Carla, are you…happy?”

Carla furrowed her brow and guffawed. “I just got fired. Of course, I’m not happy Grandma!”

“No baby girl. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

And there it was.

Carla stilled and said nothing. She looked up at her grandfather. He was looking down into his glass. She looked towards her grandmother, and she was looking at the stars.

They weren’t going to say it out loud. They wanted her to say it.

She put down her stemmed glass on the deck and slid her phone out of her pocket and flicked until she found the picture she so loved. Carla held it up for them to see it, too.

It was of him, onstage, performing at a summerfest somewhere in the world. In his black leather pants, fringed leather vest and matching cowboy hat and boots. Her dad.

“That was last year, wasn’t it?” Tom asked gently.

“I think so.”

“Does he ever text you?”

“Sometimes. When he gets a chance.”

“He loves you,” Ella said softly.

“Then why did he leave?”

Tom sighed and said, “You already know why.”

Carla pulled the phone back and stared at the photo. He was still a good-looking man, for an old guy.

“You should call him,” Ella said.

“What’s the point? He thinks I’m like her.”

“But are you really though?” Tom asked.

“Of course I am! Look at me – I dress like her, I talk like her, I function just like her!”

“But why is that, baby girl?” her grandmother asked.

She looked up at them both and tried to blink back the tears. They both looked at her with so much love and regret and a tiny bit of shame.

No, it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“You think I did this to myself?! No! She did this to me!”

They both remained quiet. They just sat watching her with love shining from their eyes.

“I had no choice! She gave away my clothes! My identity! She forced me into her way of life! I had to go to the school she wanted me to go to! She forced my hand at every turn!”

They just kept looking on with love but they still said nothing.

The realization crept in on teeny little ferret feet. The more I dwelled on the realizations the more the horror overtook me.

At the first sob that ripped out of Carla’s throat both grandparents moved in unison to grab their beloved granddaughter as she sunk to the deck floor, a morass of emotion trying to drown her.

They rocked her and crooned sweet nothings at her, rubbing her back and head until the worst of the sobs subsided.

Tom got up and disappeared into the house.

“It’s alright. We’re here for you. Always have been. We love you so much.”

Carla simply listened and allowed the rocking and her grandmother’s presence to soothe her soul.

They both heard Tom huffing and struggling. His struggles got louder and a few very old-fashioned expletives were heard. Grandmother and granddaughter giggled.

They got up to go investigate.

They found him in the living room with six dusty boxes. He stood up and wiped his hands on his pants.

“Don’t ever say we don’t know our daughter. We know her only too well. But, we couldn’t impose our rules over hers. You’re her daughter, not ours. You understand, don’t you?” His eyes pleaded with her for understanding, for forgiveness, for love.

Carla stepped towards the boxes.

It can’t be…

It was as if she was in a dream.

She knelt down and tugged open the nearest box. On top was her khaki suspenders. Carla burst into tears anew.

Ella and Tom knelt beside her, very near to her, but not touching her.

“I know baby girl. A lot has been lost from one generation to the next. But, this is a journey we knew you needed to do on your own,” her grandfather said softly.

“And remember, I told you to always stay true to yourself, didn’t I, dear one?” asked her grandmother.

Carla nodded as the realizations flooded her brain. She had allowed it all to happen. She didn’t fight it. She just accepted it and threw away who she was…

Her mother’s ways were not her own. Her mother was a woman apart. The woman who gave birth to her, but there were other parts of her, too. Parts that she disregarded. Parts that were smeared purposefully to try an alter her path. And she…allowed it.

A long-forgotten song roared back.

God, what have you done? You’re a Pink Pony girl and you dance at the club. Oh, Mama, I’m just having fun. On the stage in my heels. It’s where I belong, down at the Pink Pony Club. I’m gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club!

Carla stood up and grabbed the suspenders, dug through the boxes and found her favorite outfit and ran to the bathroom.

When she emerged, her grandparents smiled.

“You may need to go shopping again, baby girl,” her grandfather smiled as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Ella hugged him as her tears fell too. She looked up at her husband and nodded with joy.

Carla posed before them in her Doc Martens, the now way-too-short cut-off black sparkly t-shirt, with the red legwarms and the infamous khaki suspenders.

They all laughed and Carla ran to her grandparents and hugged them tightly.

“Thank you both so much! I love you so much. Oh – wait!”

She grabbed her phone and flicked quickly. “Found it!”

Both of them looked at her, heads quirked.

Moments later, Chappel Roan’s Pink Pony Club filled their ears.

Laughing and clapping, Carla’s grandparents cheered her on as Carls shed the decades old false persona and pranced into the new iteration of herself.

Finally, found.

No longer lost in translation.