The Cowpony
“Can you please tell me who you are?”
“My name is Tonic and I am the bartender for The Comfort Zone. I am a fully licensed psychiatrist.”
The unicorn newspony jotted the information I fed her on her notepad and used a flash of a camera on me for the cover picture. I’ve always hated the flash of them. Probably just blinked right now. She looked at me and asked, “You aren’t from here are you?” I nodded my head. She asked another question. “Where are you from?”
“Well,” I started, rubbing my mane with one of my hoofs, as if I was swatting cobwebs away so I could try to bring my ancient memories back to me. “I originally came from Manehatten. I studied for six years on how to be a psychiatrist there, but couldn’t find any work there, so I moved to Ponyville and took a job as a bartender realizing that they are just like a psychiatrist. I get to help my clients with no extra charge. They just need to pay for the booze.”
The lemon mare chuckled softly. “Is there any stories you would like to share?”
I shook my head. “Those are between me and my clients only. Because if I told you, then I wouldn’t be very honest with myself if I told you about their troubles now will I?”
She nodded her head. “I guess that would be true. Can you at least please tell me what problems you have to deal with?”
“I guess. Sometimes I have to deal with small problems, some big. Some are just meant to be kept within the family.”
It was pouring an entire ocean outside of my cozy little bar on the outskirts of Ponyville that night. I remember the rain was so thick that you’d need a thousand searchlights just to see an inch in front of you. Yet this peculiar pony found her little way into the bar, had a seat, and ordered a drink. It was hard scotch on the rocks if I remember correctly. When I got a good look at her, I made the first drink on the house. After all, it’s not everyday you see one of the Elements of Harmony, it being Applejack the wielder of Honesty no less, on one of your bar stools.
Her brown stetson was on the table darkened by the rain, and her face was drenched, though something tells me with with her red, bloodshot eyes that it was with tears. When I handed her the drink I had asked her why she was so down in the dumps, beside the hurricane style rain that was bombarding the dirt roads, turning them into any fashionista's worst nightmare.
She looked at me for a good, long minute or so before she talked with a medium southern style accent. “It’s my sister Applebloom. I think I’m beginning to understand what she will get her cutie mark in, but I just don’t want to break it to her just yet.”
I nodded silently. The sister dilemma. Not the easiest of problems, but I’ll be damned if I can’t help her. I grabbed myself a dirty glass from today and grabbed a rag to begin cleaning it. While doing so I popped a question to her with my scratchy voice. “Why don’t you want to? It seems like something a little sibling would like to know so they can prepare for the future.”
The Element of Honesty slammed her hoofs on the table, startling me and almost causing me to drop the glass, her glass bouncing in the air for a good second. “That’s the problem!” Tears began to plummet on the smooth wood. “I don’t want my sister to grow up! She’s still a little filly!”
“I understand, but she can’t stay a filly forever you know. She’s going to have to grow up sooner or later, and the sooner the better.” I said bluntly, putting up the now spotless mug on the back row of glasses.
She turned her head away from me, obviously disgusted by my remark. “I know, but I still want her to be my little Applebloom.”
“Then why don’t you just let her grow up?” I insisted.
Applejack drooped her head down, looking at the reflection the shiny wood of the table made. She let out a deep and painful sigh. “My parents died when I was a filly. My brother Big Macintosh and I were forced to grow up in order to take care of Applebloom and Granny Smith. I want to make Applebloom’s childhood last as long as it can, to allow her to be a kid.”
I noticed her empty shot glass and poured her another stiff drink, hoping I could help her ease the pain. I rubbed my charcoal mane with one of my hoofs. “What if she gets older, and she still has no cutie mark and she finds out you’ve been holding this information from her?”
Her eyes didn’t blink. In fact, I don’t remember her moving an inch before saying her next confession. “Then I’ll have to deal with that but I don’t want to be left alone on the farm. Granny, bless her soul, is on her last legs, and Big Mac isn’t guaranteed to stay. He needs to have a family and expand the Apple Family to other parts of Equestria. When Applebloom gets her cutie mark, it’s bound to take her away from Ponyville.” After a moment of silence, her face hit the table and she began to sob loudly. I patted her back, lifted her head up, and looked her in the eyes.
“Listen, I know how much this must hurt you, but you have to tell her. Even if she has to grow up, I doubt she’ll turn ice cold. She will still talk to her friends and live a nice life on the farm just with a cutie mark, but when the time comes you have to let her go, alright?”
She said nothing, only reluctantly nodding. I smiled. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. I’m sure she’ll come to visit you, so you won’t be entirely left alone. And if you feel lonely, just go a head and pop back in here for a drink and a discussion.”
She had a weak smile on her face. “You’re right mister-”
“Tonic.”
“Tonic. I’ll tell her tomorrow morning. And after that, I’ll make sure she has the best last years of her childhood.” With that, Applejack picked up her stetson, and headed out the bar with a swing in her step. Suddenly, there was no noise from outside. Curiously I poked my head out and smiled.
There was no rain. It was gone, replaced by the warm embrace of the sun and a rainbow stretching across the sky.
