Author's Note
As a side note, this story didn't change much from it's original format between contest voting and publishing, just some grammar changes and a couple words being moved around. Audio reading is right here! Huzzah! Thanks again Cara.
Falling Down
Big Macintosh looked up to his father growing up. It was the natural thing to do, after all he was a big, hard-working stallion. The stallion of the farm, in fact, and since Macintosh was still too young, he’d have to settle for being the little colt, smothered in mommy and grandmother kisses and trying to help when he could.
And all too soon, he had a sister that was dolled upon, which gave him the breathing room to focus more on helping dad than being the center of attention.
Bright Mac never strived for any form of attention. He loved his wife, his family, his home. He loved to work out in the fields all day, and some nights go out with the other stallions in town to the tavern, while Pear Butter would have Cup Cake over for a visit and they’d talk about cooking and sewing and other filly stuff.
Macintosh had begged to go with his father, but it was always the same thing. When you’re older, he’d always say. And so Macintosh would continue to work hard with his father, getting big and strong, and his mother would help him with homework because planting seeds or picking up stray apples was hard work, but easy on the mind.
Arithmetic and grammar were easy on paper, but hard on the mind.
By the time his second sister was born, things were changing for Big Mac. He was living up to his name, big and strong like his father, yet gentle and quiet like his mother. It took a lesson from his sister Applejack to learn that not everything on the mind needed to be voiced, and had since reserved himself.
And then, one day, Father and Mother didn’t come home. The Everfree was unforgiving when it was hungry, and only small traces of their wagon were found inside those cursed woods.
And yet, over the years, Big Macintosh couldn’t help but look back on those days of his youth, working alongside his father. It was blissful, and he’d been called that along with ignorant more than once, but he could accept that.
Marefriends came and went, but it wasn’t until Sugar Belle that he realized ignorance wasn’t always bliss, and needed to act before something unfavorable could happen.
So they were married, with their own mistakes along the way, ones he was sure his parents had gone through as well, but that only made his love for Belle all the stronger. Having that connection, be it spiritually or otherwise, was good enough for Macintosh. They had a foal, and then a second, but the third would test them far greater than he ever thought.
Her name was to be Annie Belle, at least, they had it put upon her headstone in the family plot.
He never truly understood what his father always meant about Big Mac and his sisters all being a blessing until he and Belle had their first foal. Any after that were simply expected, the very idea of losing one was never in his mind. Pleasurable to make them, and a pleasure to have them in their lives.
That changed, and it was like a wagon crashing into him. One full of rusty, broken farm equipment that stabbed at every available weak point on his body, mind, and spirit.
They would never try for a fourth, as the pain of losing Annie was too great on both of them. Even greater than when they lost Granny Smith shortly after their first foal’s birth. She knew he’d be a strong colt like his father, and his grandfather, and his great grandfather.
Big Macintosh agreed, and remembering the practices of his own father, he fought and strived to allow his son, and his daughter, to be the best they could. They helped on the farm, much like any young Apples before them would. Like he had, oh so many years ago. Like his own father had when he was a young colt with Big Mac’s grandpappy, who the only memory he had was the smell of his bourbon barrel cologne that was still in the bathroom cupboard to this day.
He wore it when courting Sugar Belle. It was for good luck, and it sure brought it.
Big Macintosh Apple had had a lot of pleasure in his life. Growing, working, loving, all in his time of youth. He was still a hard worker. Day in, day out. Big Sugar, his colt, now a fine young stallion, stayed on the farm to work. Their daughter, Lasso, traveled with Apple Bloom, helping ponies with their cutie marks and destinies all around Equestria, and beyond.
Before too long, Big Sugar had himself a wife, and were on their way to having a foal.
And then Big Macintosh had his first heart attack.
Over the decades, the fields seemed to get increasingly larger, increasingly tougher. The apple trees didn’t seem to drop as many an apple when he bucked or kicked. He’d had to use both rear hooves when he was little, then as he grew, could do it with one swift kick, and with the showing of grey in his blond mane he found he needed two again.
Once a stallion, twice a colt as the old saying goes.
Sugar Belle refused to allow him to work so hard after that, and it took a scolding from his own son to put him in his place: beside his wife of thirty five years, on the porch overlooking the farm.
Applejack would stop in from time to time, when she wasn’t busy with her own farm or traveling with her wife Rainbow on out-of-Equestria Wonderbolts shows. They were getting there, too, he noted. Wouldn’t be long before she’d start complaining to him of all the things he was going through now.
Enjoy yourself while you’re still in the pink. It was a lyric from a song Granny had sang to them in his distant past, but that single line would come back to haunt him from time to time.
He’d find himself constantly asking, well, himself, had I enjoyed my life?
Simple stallion, and a simpler answer. Yes.
Another grandfoal, another heart attack, and Big Macintosh was now Pappy Mac, who would regale his grandfoals with stories of his youth, of competitions and medals won. Hard work which, while on the surface, hadn’t seemed like much, was at a deeper level the foundation of their lives, allowing them the luxuries and time to enjoy with one another. The pleasures of youth come and gone, reaping the rewards having been bountiful, and now it was downhill.
Big Sugar had gotten them one of those new television boxes. It was just another thing to pass the ever ticking time with. Several more decades came and went, new programs became reruns, and black and white would soon be in full technicolor.
At 80, Sugar Belle had her first stroke, and for the next 4 years they’d grow in rate until the worst one would claim her to the Apple Family Plot.
Pappy Mac was a reasonable pony, and went ahead and had his own hole prepared while they buried his wife of 50 plus years.
It would only be another year, and Sugar Mac would bury his father beside his mother. Pappy Mac had told them about how they never found their grandparents, what had become of them. This was a blessing, that they were able to say goodbye, and lay them to rest. Princess Twilight Sparkle had been there for both funerals, standing at his aunt Applejack’s side, a large purple wing draped over her back.
His sister, Lasso, weeped into her brother’s side, having missed most of her parent’s later years because of her mission in life. Their parents had never told her to stop pursuing her passion, instead only push on and better herself and others.
Sugar Mac looked up to his father growing up. It was the natural thing to do; after all, he was a big, hard working stallion. The stallion of the farm, in fact, and from when he was too young, he’d have to settle for being the little colt, smothered in mommy and aunty kisses and trying to help when he could. Then, as he grew up, father would give him more work to do, and it made him happy.
It was their pleasure, after all.
