Big Macintosh stood at the fork in the road and sighed. He couldn’t really blame Applejack for turning back – Apple Bloom was ready to be left alone, but Applejack wasn’t ready to let go just yet.
But there would be plenty of time for thinking once he was on the road. Any second now he’d command his hooves to take him down the path to Pumpkin Lakes. He looked longingly at the route Applejack was supposed to take – geysers of fire and chimeras would be welcome compared to the ordeal he was about to go through.
He still hadn’t moved from his spot. It was easier when Applejack was there. If he hesitated for even a second she’d threaten to switch delivery routes with him. He remembered all too vividly what had happened the only time she had attempted the Pumpkin Lakes delivery…
”Are you sure you can handle it?” Granny Smith asked.
“Darn tootin’ I’m ready!”
She had been an adolescent at the time, no longer a filly but not quite a mare yet, either. But she had been eager to prove she was an adult, and had insisted on taking the harder path.
Big Mac had returned from Appleachia only to discover a cart full of two-day-old pies waiting for him. They’d all had to bake new inventory and then he’d had to deliver it himself.
“I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.” She couldn’t look him in the eyes. She just stared at the ground, completely defeated. He’d hugged her. It was the only thing he could do.
It was still a sore point with his sister all these years later. He knew she wanted to try again if only to prove she could do it. She was stubborn; he’d give her that. But she was still as much his younger sister as Apple Bloom was to both of them. There was no way he’d ever put her in that situation ever again. What if she thought better of checking on Apple Bloom and decided to go on with her delivery after all? His legs started moving.
The path skirted the edge of the Everfree Forest and he was grateful that at least he wouldn’t be battling any monsters on the trip – there were more than enough demons he needed to face without worrying about dragons, manticores, ursas, or hydras. Still, if it meant changing the past he’d gladly take all of the above on in a no-holds-barred cage match.
As the Everfree was a vast, untamed wilderness taking up a large portion of the interior of Equestria, the road around the forest was well traversed, as it was the only way to get to points east. There were hundreds of other ponies heading the same way as Big Mac. As he continued heading east the fields and dairy farms of Horsey turned into the suburban sprawl of the outskirts of Fillydelphia.
Traffic started increasing so he pulled to the side to have his lunch. He was near the halfway point of his trip, and the sun hadn’t quite reached its peak. Fresh apple pie and apple juice were just the thing to reinvigorate him for the trip through the bustling metropolis. Big Mac was a country boy at heart – the big city had no appeal to him whatsoever, not even as a tourist. The faster he was out of Fillydelphia the better he’d like it.
Traffic was nose to tail on the Ben Flanklin Bridge as he crossed the Delamare River and headed into Neigh Jersey. Most of the other ponies turned south towards Damden, while Big Macintosh turned north. He had lost nearly two hours stuck in traffic in the city and was now behind schedule. Worse yet, the country and western radio station’s signal had petered out and been replaced by an ‘80s station. But he didn’t want to waste time pulling off the road just to change the channel.
Powerful muscles rippled as Big Macintosh climbed Kittawhinny Mountain. He was making up for lost time as he ascended the hill. More than one pony struggling to make it to the top cast an envious glance at the ease of which the muscular stallion strode to the top. He paused at the summit.
Directly in front of him was Sunrise Mountain. Though only half the size of Kittawhinny, the red stallion felt his knees go weak. A sixty-meter high marble obelisk stood atop the hill, silently standing vigil over Ponysylvania, Neigh Jersey, and Neigh York. As he stared at the monument, the same terrible memories that haunted him every night came flooding back to him.
”Macintosh, Applejack, gather round.”
“What is it, Ma?”
“I have great news. We’ve reached a deal with Pumpkin Spice to trade apple pies for pumpkin pies.”
“What’s so great about that, Mama? Apples are way better ‘an pumpkins.”
“While that may be true, Applejack, pumpkin pie is a traditional dish at harvest time, and a staple of Thanksgiving dinner. And we’ve never had much luck growin’ pumpkins here on Sweet Apple Acres. But up in Pumpkin Lakes they have a surplus of pumpkins and a need for apples. Remember, apple pie is just as much a Thanksgiving tradition as pumpkin pie is, and they don’t have any apple orchards to the quality of Sweet Apple Acres. So they’re willing to trade equally, pie for pie. And since pumpkins are a seasonal item while apples are a year round staple, this could potentially open a whole new market to us.”
“Don’t we sell enough apples right here in Ponyville?”
“No son,” Bright Mac laughed. “Take a gander at all those apple trees. Ponyville only consumes the fruits of ten trees in a year’s time. We’re always looking into new ways to expand. Why, Filthy Rich sells our zap apple jam as far away as Seaddle and Vanhoover.”
“And Pumpkin Lakes is right outside Manehattan, the biggest city in all of Equestria. If we can crack that market, I think we can get Sweet Apple Acres back in the black.” Pear Butter closed the farm's ledger.
“Back in the black? What’s that mean?”
“Heh, don’t you worry ‘bout it, boy. There’ll come a time when you put that brain of yours to work crunching the farm’s numbers, but for now all you need to do is enjoy your youth. Colts and fillies grow up way too quickly these days.”
Alone in a scenic overlook Big Macintosh sank to his knees and shuddered. Truer words had never been spoken. He closed his eyes and let the tears flow.
”I can’t wait t’ see Aunt and Uncle Orange again! I hope they weren’t too upset that I ran home without sayin’ goodbye.”
“They were more concerned about your well-being, believe me when I say they looked all over for you. But once you mailed that letter off explainin’ things to them, they understood entirely, dear.” Pear Butter scooped filly Applejack into her forelegs and hugged her.
“That’s my girl. Already seen more of Equestria than her old stallion.” Bright Mac was pulling the wagon slowly up the mountain. “I’m looking forward to a nice family vacation for a week. It’s been way too long since we took time to do that.”
“And it was nice of your mother to look after Apple Bloom and mind the farm while we’re gone.”
“Ee-yup,” Bright Mac agreed with his wife.
Big Macintosh tore his eyes from the obelisk and turned them towards the Delamare River, meandering hundreds of yards below. He was closer to the source of the river, and it was much calmer here than it was outside Fillydelphia. Calm was a good word to describe the whole area; it was peaceful, tranquil. Most ponies would even go so far as to call it beautiful. Even Big Macintosh had said as much the first time he laid eyes on it.
”Hey Pa! Look at this! Ain’t it beautiful?” He leaned as far over the railing as he could, soaking in the natural beauty of Sunrise Mountain from the scenic overlook on Kittawhinny Mountain.
“Sure is, Macintosh. It sure is.” He picked up Applejack so she could see over the railing.
“Wow, Papa! That really is pretty! Ponyville sure don’t look like this!”
“But Ponyville’s pretty in its own way,” Pear Butter replied.
“I guess.” Applejack didn’t sound convinced.
Big Macintosh sighed. At the time his sister was still freshly back from her trip to Manehattan, and the urge to see the world hadn’t yet been dulled by years of manual labor running the apple farm. That spark of life; that yearning for adventure. He hadn’t seen that twinkle in her eyes since that fateful day…
”Race ya to the bottom, big bro!”
“Hey! No fair takin’ a head start, sis!”
“Be careful!” their mother yelled after them. “C’mon, Bright Mac, pick up the pace. We’re gonna lose sight of ‘em if we don’t hurry.”
“Ee-yup.” He strained against the harness, pulling the cart full of pies ever faster down the tricky slope.
The two young ponies had paused at a bend in the road. The view back to Kittawhinny Mountain was breathtaking. The larger mountain towered over the smaller one, yet wasn’t imposing.
“Majestic.” Pear Butter had caught up to the two energetic foals. “But don’t you two dare run off like that again. Or I’ll tan your hindquarters right fierce.”
“Sorry Ma,” they said in unison.
“Look out!”
They turned their attention back to the road and to their horror saw Bright Mac struggling to stop the pie cart. The harness dangled from his back, snapped from pushing too hard against it. He dug his hind hooves into the dirt and pushed his back against the cart. It slowed slightly.
Bright Mac crashed through the guardrail, pushed by the cart. The cart miraculously stopped with one wheel hanging over the edge, caught on a rock. Pa dangled from the remains of the guardrail, hanging hundreds of meters above the forest below.
“Don’t worry, I’m a comin’!” Pear Butter’s hooves thundered as she closed the distance towards her husband.
“I’m fine. Get the cart back up on the ledge before it goes over.”
Pear Butter did as she was told. It was only after she was sure the cart was safe that she finally took a look at the situation Bright Mac was in. The guardrail was splintering, cracking from the stallion’s weight. She gasped. “I gotcha.”
“Don’t you dare, Buttercup. I’m done for. No sense risking your neck too.”
“You’re not gettin’ away from me that easy! I can reach you. A little further…” She grasped her husband’s hoof just as the guardrail gave way entirely. The wooden railing plunged to the ground below, but the two ponies remained precariously overlooking the cliff. At the last second Applejack and Macintosh had grasped their mother’s hind legs. The problem remained that they were all still slipping over the cliff. “Y’all have t’ let go of me.”
“Never!” Macintosh vowed.
“It’s the only way. I’m sorry. The Apple family’s word is as good as gold, and y’all’ve gotta get those pies to Pumpkin Spice. Just remember your father and I love you both.” She swished her tail, tickling her children’s hooves. Unable to hold on, they watched as their mother went over the edge. She pulled her muzzle in close to her husband’s, giving him one final, lingering kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Buttercup.”
Big Macintosh looked at his bulging muscles. He hadn’t been strong enough back then. Never again would he fail the ones he loved.
”C’mon, we’ve gotta get down there!” Macintosh grabbed hold of his sister and tossed her onto his back. The pie cart was forgotten in their mad dash to get to the bottom of the mountain.
Even running faster than he ever had in his life, it still took Macintosh more than half an hour to get to the bottom of the mountain. By the time they reached the place where their parents had landed, nearly an hour had passed. Emergency workers were already on the scene.
“Whoa there, you need to stay behind the police line.”
“Those are our parents!” Macintosh slipped from the police officer’s grasp and continued running towards the spot where they could see ponies converged. A doctor stepped into his path and Macintosh bounced off, dazed.
“You really don’t want to go any further. I’m guessing that the two of you are related to the victims?”
“They’re our parents.”
“I’m sorry. There’s no easy way to say this. They didn’t make it. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
If only he and Applejack hadn’t run off both their parents would still be around. Big Mac stared at the apple cart – the nick in the left front wheel was still there. If only that stupid cart hadn’t gotten stuck on that blasted rock, at least his mother would still be here with him. Dozens of ‘what if’ scenarios played through his mind, but none of them could ever bring his parents back.
Macintosh and Applejack trudged towards Pumpkin Lakes, trailing the cart of apple pies behind them. Several of the bystanders had offered their assistance – a police officer had fetched the cart from where they had left it and a pair of makeshift harnesses had been made while the filly and colt answered questions.
They were even receiving a police escort all the way to their destination. Another officer had been dispatched to get Granny Smith. She would meet up with Macintosh and Applejack at Pumpkin Spice’s house, after she took care of all the arrangements.
Big Mac inhaled the fragrance of fresh apple pie. The ponies of Pumpkin Lakes had been so smitten by the pies and Pumpkin Spice was so apologetic for the accident that she had proposed terms far more favorable to Sweet Apple Acres than the ones originally agreed upon. It was only through this contract that they didn’t lose the apple farm. Pumpkin Spice even went so far as to send laborers to Sweet Apple Acres at harvest time the next three years.
It was only then that he realized the radio was still playing.
“Here I am, playing with those memories again. Just when I thought time had set me free, those thoughts of you keep taunting me…”
Big Macintosh shakily got to his hooves and shed one last tear as he looked at the obelisk the Apple family had erected on the cliff to serve as a memorial. Then he changed the radio station. Mare Supply gave way to Kenneigh Rogers.
“You gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away…”
“Ee-yup.” Big Macintosh pushed into the harness, putting as much distance between himself and the site of his parents’ accident as possible.
The rest of his trip to Pumpkin Lakes was uneventful.
Author's Note
This was written long before The Perfect Pear aired. While I couldn't guess their names (substituting Ma & Pa Apple as placeholders), I've gone through and edited in their correct names, as well as a few other tweaks where appropriate.
