An Apple Among the Old Orchard
An Apple Among the Old Orchard
The time of day was unclear. Maybe it was high noon, maybe it was the early evening, or maybe it was even the middle of the night. No matter what time it was, the young mare didn’t care much for that. She knew where she was, after all. How could she forget? Even after the town of Ponyville had been modernized and moved on from its agriculture centered origins, the farm was still running. Still there, in the same place for well over a century. The young mare was short, and pudgy, but she was also cute in a way that made her both intimidating and soothing at the same time.
Babs Seed was no stranger to Ponyville. She liked the vast landscape, the lively townsfolk, even the most mundane of the town’s features. From the recognizable clock tower to the old road that led her to the one place that really felt like home. The mare was going for a stroll, as it were. She was on a mission, but not of the action packed variety.
No, she was here, at Sweet Apple Acres for a reason that was deceptively simple. Almost pointless in its scope. That didn’t make it any less important, not to her that is. I wonder if Cousin Applejack’ll be here. Maybe she was just late and needed to run some errands. I sure hope so. Peeking around the corner of the big red barn that accompanied the farm’s mostly natural surroundings, Babs saw nothing. There was little here that reminded her of how the farm was when she was but a filly.
The farm was running, yes, but it was not in its prime. The paint that coated the barn had chipped and worn down over the years, and it was obvious that the purpose for which the barn was designed for had long since passed. There was no need for grand farmland anymore, and Babs knew that (much to her dismay).
With the help of both magic and technology, crops were genetically modified and perfected to where spending countless seasons on such things had become obsolete. To say that the city mare who wandered her cousin’s home was somber would’ve been a bit of an understatement.
“Hello? Anypony? It’s your cousin! I gotta...” Babs’ voice trailed off as she realized that she was just talking to the whispering wind that was sweeping across the land. There was nopony home. Nopony to greet her. Nopony to say hi and ask how her travels had been going. There was next to nothing for her here.
From the soil that used to be soft and nutritious to the tree stumps that made up the majority of the farm’s orchard, everything was practically dead. Even the current owners of Sweet Apple Acres were in town, and must’ve forgotten that the mare from Manehatten had spent much of the past week just hoping that she could meet them.
Babs knew well enough that Apple Bloom was no longer in Ponyville. She moved to a distant town long ago on business regarding carpentry. Not that that was a bad thing, since Babs also knew that all four of the original Cutie Mark Crusaders had achieved what they strived for. Cutie marks. Signs of maturity and meaning within society, She was proud of all her closest friends, but there was a sign that the lone mare on the farm was feeling... empty. Hollow.
She felt a slight pain in her chest, as if someone had dropped a rather heavy rock in her chest cavity. Her stomach may as well have turned into a knot. As she continued to venture around the farmland by herself, Babs felt her stomach tighten up more and more. With each step, she sought it more difficult to move around on those hooves of hers. There was nothing for her here.
“Guys? Gals? Friends? Anypony?” She asked in vain, trying to not let her anxiety get the best of her. Easy there, girl. We just gotta find the old hangout is all. Don’t you worry. Don’t be scared. The orchard had apple trees, but no Apples to buck them. When Babs looked over to the front porch with a pained stare, she knew that Granny Smith would not be there to say hello. Applejack wasn’t there to hug her when she got off at the train station, and Apple Bloom was nowhere to be found. Everything was barren, old, beaten up, abandoned, and for the slightest moment the lone mare on the farm thought that she was in some sort of nightmare.
Then... almost as if Celestia herself had looked down upon Babs Seed and brought her signs of mercy, a tree house could be seen in the distance. Babs smiled, and that grin grew with each second that she looked at that old wooden structure from her past. This was not the first tree house the Cutie Mark Crusaders had built, of course.
In fact, Apple Bloom alone had constructed this fine example of Apple work ethic and production. Leave it to the carpenter to get the job done right, eh. Babs smiled again and thought back to when her cousin got her carpentry cutie mark. She looked back up at the tree house, its shadow casted over her. The structure was ancient by modern architectural standards, but it was robust and the inside was quite spacious. The mare from Manehatten blew a strand of her mane and it was clear from her sudden lift in mood and gleaming eyes that she was grateful.
Climbing up the ladder, with its creaks and its unsteady foundation, Babs found herself at peace. She made her way into the clubhouse and a sudden wave of familiarity washed over her. All the decorations and knick knacks were still present in the tree house’s core. Time had been very kind to this place and whatever it carried with it, because despite the great passage of time it felt as if the old house had not aged even a day. Time. Age. Knick knacks. These didn’t matter to Babs. Now where is that darn thing...
She sorted through the drawers and the cabinets that made up the tree house’s furniture, looking through old belongings and what-have-yous that were somewhat nostalgic, but not very relevant. Bungee cords. Paper planes. Thick books. Medical appliances (those were the most fun to experiment with). All these little things were like pieces of puzzle that helped Babs find what she was looking for.
It took her nearly an hour to rummage through everything, but the little mare found what she wanted most. Slowly and carefully, she lifted a picture frame from the back of one of the more dusty cabinets. With nopony to interrupt her, and with only the soft sounds of nature welcoming her ears, Babs sat down in the middle of the wooden tree house and went still like a statue. She didn’t dare move, in fear that the aged floorboards would collapse, and became lost in what she was seeing.
The picture was almost an antique, and it took some effort to blow off the layers of dust that had gathered on its smooth surface. It’s a fortunate thing that Babs had kept her mane relatively short or else the dust would’ve found itself in her strands of hair. But it turned out that her anticipation and her worries and her fears had all been worth it.
The picture was like a portal to another point in time, like a gateway to a whole different point of view. Through that gateway that led to her past, Babs saw herself. A much younger Babs Seed who was still brash and tough (yet terrified) made a strange impression on the Apple from Manehatten. I remember when I was like that. I was so... uncertain. That’s the right word, right? Babs mused to herself. She remembered how cocky and formidable she was as a filly. A part of her was still like that, but only on occasion.
She also remembered who else was in the picture. It was a group photo, not completely different from one you would find of an elementary school class. But this one was a lot more improper, and unprofessional. Then again, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were never known to be professional in their antics, and Babs enjoyed that quality.
It was a quality she shared with her fellow Crusaders. Apple Bloom. Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo. They all had ambitions, and in time they discovered their true potentials and went out to see the world in all its glory. The rock pushed its way into her heart, and Babs felt like she was being crushed once again. She missed those days, more than even her friends did, and that hurt her in a way that few could comprehend.
With great hesitation, Babs looked back at the picture, and realized that all four Crusaders were smiling brightly, full of optimism, full of purpose. We were so happy back then, weren’t we. The pain in Babs’ chest only intensified, and she felt like she going to be sick.
It was true. They were happy back in the day. They were all together, and having fun, and not caring about what challenges might approach them in the far future. All that mattered at the time was that they were happy. They looked out for each other, went on adventures, played games, and even helped each other find love.
However, times change, and the ponies change with those times. The young mare was somewhere between depressed and puzzled. What had gone wrong, though? We were just fine, the four of us. We had our fights, sure, but we always figured things out. We always had fun by the end of the day.
The issue was a simple one, but it wasn’t pleasant. Deep down the mare knew that at some point, the fun had to come to an end. The Crusaders grew up, matured, drifted apart. Adulthood came along and took them places they’ve never been before. It was inevitable, but that didn’t make the truth any better.
Babs knew that the glory days presented in the group photo she held in her hooves had long since passed. She wished she could experience those days again just one more time. Even if she wasted them again as she did before, all that Babs wanted was for her friends to come back to her. She wished they hadn’t all moved away and become distant in the many years since their childhoods.
The mare, despite her youth, felt like an elder. The energy that had once filled her with life was gone. Replacing that energy was a feeling of solitude that Babs had wanted to rid herself of for such a long time. Not paying attention to what she was doing, the city mare dropped the picture frame from accident, and its glass surface cracked as it hit the wooden floor with a hard thump. That was the first real sound that entered Babs’ ears in a while, and it took her a moment to realize what she had accidentally done.
Although she felt the sudden desperate need to talk to somepony, anypony, the mare knew that there was nopony even remotely close to her. There was nopony wandering the farm and even the landscape itself seemed devoid of life. There was nothing for her here. Despite herself, tears started to form in Babs’ eyes, and she stayed in the clubhouse for the rest of the afternoon until Applejack came back from her errands.
I miss you guys. I miss ya’ll a lot more than I ever thought possible.
