I Can Take Care of you Too
Author's Note
A one shot entry for an EQ daily Writer's prompt. Written in about two hours, so don't expect too much from it. Also, I wrote it to the song "Stay" by Rihanna.
I Can Take Care of you Too
“I can take care of that…” The words echoed within Applejack’s ears as though they had just been spoken as she gazed forlornly upon the rotting soffits and paling fascia of her old barn. Nests of various origins forged from the decaying splinters of the dying structure littered the rafters. Withering, wooden bones creaked and groaned against the strain of gravity as they struggled to hold the frame aloft. Particles of dust danced through the beams of light that spilled forth from various holes in the walls and roof and came to settle down upon a floor that could no longer be seen through their multitude.
The barn smelled of the dirt that had amassed within it, and dirt was all that was there to greet her. The nests were abandoned; the barn was empty. The words that she had heard spoken to her once there had not been said aloud for many years, and the voice that had uttered them had been gone for an equal measure of time.
Applejack sighed and the dust danced away from her nostrils. It swirled and tumbled through the air, but only for a moment before it again took its placed amongst the dreary ambiance, and Applejack sat upon her haunches, heedless of the grime that clung to her golden coat. It had not always been the desolate place that it had become. It had not always been a testament to hopelessness and pain, a bastion of emptiness and broken promises. Once upon a time, the old barn had been her wonderland, and he who cared for it her valiant knight.
He had been so unusual and different, a character unlike any other that she had ever met, or would ever meet again. He had stumbled upon her farmstead a cold, sodden wretch one terrible and rainy afternoon. He had sought only the shelter of her barn to see him through the storm and wanted nothing more from the place. Of course, she had seen him from a distance and had watched as he’d stumbled his way through the doors, leaving them open as he shivered beneath the eave. She’d approached the stranger on her homestead and had immediately taken notice of his differences. He was not like her or any of her friends; yet, there had been something about him, something about the way that his eyes met with hers when he spoke, something about the way that he had introduced himself with a hearty handshake, and something about the way that he smiled at her that had made her realize that the differences had only run skin deep, and that he had been somebody worth knowing.
When the rain had finally relented, Applejack had found herself in the company of a kindred spirit. He was not somebody to take anything on charity, and he had been willing to work hard for even the simplest of things. Fate had found him a drifter of the world, homeless and alone with nothing more than the tattered remnants of the clothes upon his dark skin and an optimistic view of the future. He’d adapted to life by necessity, and necessity had blessed him with many things. He’d been made strong by the burdens that he carried. He’d been made wise by the mistakes that he’d made. He’d been made clever by the things that he lacked. But above all else, he’d been made humble by the things that he’d been given.
Applejack gave to him her barn, and he gave to her himself. It was all that he had; but, it had been more than enough. He’d never asked for money or for anything more than he’d been given. He’d worked for her and her own freely and happily; he’d never asked why or said that something was beyond him or was too much for him to bear. He’d awoken with her every morning before the sun had risen, and had retired only once she had been tucked into bed. There was nothing that she had ever brought to him that he had not been able to fix. Even when it had been her own heart that was in need of mending when Granny Smith had passed away, he’d been able to put her broken pieces back together.
“I can take care of that…” He’d always promised, and he’d always stayed true to his word throughout the years that he’d been there. The barn itself had been rebuilt through his own efforts. He’d replaced the boards, the soffits, every bolt, nail, and screw. He’d polished the floors and stained the wood; he’d painted it a sultry, satin red. Upon the eastern side he’d lavished an intimately familiar trio of vibrant apples, a single, large green apple, and a pink bow to symbolize her and her siblings. On the western side, a warm apple pie watched the sun set every evening. She’d asked him about it one evening when she found herself alone with him, longing for the company of her grandmother, and what he’d said had taken the strength from her legs and had brought her to her knees.
“It’s red because that’s the color of love, and of everywhere that I’ve been, I have only found it here,” He’d said. “I painted the marks of you and your siblings there on the east side so that y’all will always see the sun rise on every new day. Y’all are the future of this place. Granny Smith’s is painted on the west so that she can always see the sunset. She’ll see the end of every day and know that it was a good one.”
She had broken down that night. All of the sorrows that she had buried throughout the years had come like a hurricane to the surface and had destroyed the steely walls that she had built around her heart. She’d cried and wailed and burdened his shoulders with the weight of her anguish in a manner most selfish; but, he’d not complained nor had he turned her away. He’d drawn her close to the loving warmth that she’d so desperately wanted, and when she had been at her most vulnerable, he’d promised her that she would always have what she had found there that night crying upon his shoulder.
Applejack had believed in him, and for a time she had known of a love that had burned brighter than the sun itself. There was nothing that she could not ask of him without receiving it. His love of her family, his devotion to her farm, his touch only for her to experience, he’d been hers in mind, body, and spirit. He’d been the very ground upon which she had built her future, and for as long as she’d had him, her life had been unshakable. Even amidst the desperate times in which she and her family had struggled, it had been upon his shoulders that they were able to hold their heads above the blustery waters of uncertainty and emerged prosperous on the other side. And never once had he ever thought to abandon them.
For all that he had done for her and her family, for all that he had been a good and faithful companion, for all that he had been the father figure her youngest sister had needed, and the friend her brother had wanted, she’d cherished him in only that special way that a mare could. One evening, so long ago then, she had snuck into the barn when the hour was late and had found him resting atop his bedroll with his dark, ebony flesh bared for her to see. Amidst the flickering lantern light she had come to lie beside him, and when their eyes had met she’d never felt more uncertain about anything in her life. Her trepidation must have been palpable, for just when it was that she was sure her doubts would drive him away, he’d smiled and drawn her in close.
“I can take care of that…” He’d whispered, and on that night, she’d given herself to a passion that she had not known since. His had been such a tender and loving embrace, an intimacy far more powerful than she could have ever hoped to experience. She had felt things that had run far deeper than the mere physical contact that they had shared, things that had involved the very essence of her being. It had been in those moments of passion that she had truly come to understand the meaning of the word love and what it was to make it with somebody else. That night, she had become one with only thing that she had ever wanted.
But that had been so long ago, and now inside a place that should have held nothing but wonderful memories, all she could find there was pain and misery. The barn that had once held her future held nothing but emptiness, and alike all of the things that she had once cherished about it, it was slowly dying all around her. The soul that had once amassed its beauty was gone, and without it the barn had no more reason for living.
His things were still there, lost amidst the dust that had laid claim to them. A bedroll sat empty and unused in the corner, the downy stuffing within bleeding from several holes that had been chewed into its surface. A Stetson worn down by more than time itself was hung from a rusty hook faceted to a cracked and splintering support. It had been black at one time; though, through the dust, it was impossible to discern. Beneath it, a pair of gloves rested over the crown of a weathered boot; the other was conspicuously missing, stolen perhaps be some varmint that had moved in and had since died to the ages. There were various tools strewn about the area, things that he had once utilized for the sake of her and her family. They had become rusty and unusable, not that her hooves could have ever used a one of them properly anyhow.
Despondent, Applejack approached the affects, her gait reflecting the misery that was slowly drowning her heart. She halted amidst the thicket of them and again sat to her haunches. The old Stetson, now beside her, had somehow found its way into her hooves, and with no consideration at all to the dust upon its surface, she brought the bowl of it to her nostrils and tentatively sniffed.
Her eyes watered. After so many years, it still smelled like him. She brought the Stetson to her barrel and held it close, embraced it as though it could somehow mend her wounded and broken heart. But, unlike the one thing that she wanted most, the hat did nothing at all for her. It was not warm, it did not whisper anything kind into her ear, and it certainly didn’t return her embrace. It was cold and lifeless, just like everything else that she would find there. She could not part with it, however, no matter how useless it may have been. Instead, it was her own hat that she returned to the hook, and replaced upon her head a Stetson that had gone forgotten and wanting for years.
Her emerald irises settled upon the bedroll that lay before her cold and empty, tattered, torn, and filthy from disuse. The corner was still drawn down as if after so much time it still waited for its tenant to return. He never would, however, and to see something that had held him close as she once had still waiting for him, she all but collapsed upon it and threw its ragged shell across her shoulders. She snuggled deeply into its lifeless embrace and inhaled its musty scent, her tears falling only to be absorbed by the ruined fabric that surrounded her.
It too still smelled like him, and as Applejack pulled it in tighter around her shoulders, she sobbed. It had been far too long since he’d been gone, and she had almost forgotten what it was like to be held by him. She had almost forgotten what it was like to have been invited into his bedroll and held close to his body. She had almost forgotten the bedtime stories that they had shared and the sweet, sultry things that he would whisper into her ear as she was falling asleep. She had almost forgotten what it had been like to be awoken with a kiss and driven out of the barn doors as he’d urged her to leave before they’d been caught.
She’d almost forgotten about his love for her; but she surely remembered it now. Since he had been gone, Applejack had not stepped hoof in the old barn, nor had she been able to bring herself to tend to it as he had. The pain she felt whenever she so much as glanced at its weathered countenance barred her from ever getting too close. But today, something was different. Today, something had changed that had forced her to face the demons that had haunted her for so long, and they had demanded that she be there.
Today, the barn was going to be razed to the ground. Neglect had effectively brought about the end of its life, and as it was it could no longer be utilized by the farm. It had grown far too feeble to be trusted with storage and was not stable enough to quarter guests. The land upon which it stood was needed to expand the farmstead, and with the hungry mouths of her siblings to consider, she’d been left with only the one option.
He’d always promised her that the old barn would stand so long as he was there; it was cruel irony that he had never lied about it, and now that he was gone, so too would be the barn. As she thought more about it, she came to realize that he had promised her many things, and had fulfilled each and every one of them dutifully.
All except for one.
“Y’all told me that ah would always have what I found in ya the night that Granny died,” she choked. “Ya promised me that you would always be there for my family when we needed ya the most. Guess not even you could promise me everything.” A forlorn smile spread her lips, but it did not quite reach her eyes. “It was a filly’s dream thinkin’ that you an’ ah would be happy together forever; but, forever has a funny way of commin’ up short. Ah’ll never know what it is that happened to ya or why it is that you’re gone; but, if’n on the odd chance that ya can hear me now, ah just came here to say that ah’m sorry. Ah’m sorry ah gave up on everythin’ the moment ya left, and ah’m sorry ah let all that ya worked so hard for fall to ruin. Ah didn’t even think to save this here barn even after I remembered what y’all had gone an’ painted on it.” She hiccupped and wiped her eyes. “It’s just been so hard without havin’ ya here, ya know? Ah loved ya so much, an’ ah miss you more an’ more every day. Ain’t a moment goes by that I don’t think of ya sneakin’ up on me an’ sweepin’ me up off my hooves to tell me that y’all are gonna take care of everything like ya always used to.” Her lips quivered and she choked again. “But that ain’t gonna happen, is it? All ah’ve got left of ya are some dusty ol’ memories and a broken heart with no one left to mend it.”
Amidst her sorrowful confession to a ghost in her past, the doors to the barn creaked opened and somebody stepped inside. With her back turned to the visitor, she struggled to collect herself. It could only have been one of her siblings coming to check up on her; she had told them where she was going, and had asked them to give her a little bit of time alone. It was likely that she had been there longer than she realized; yet, it still seemed somehow brief. She felt like there was more that needed to be said and atoned for; though, if even she had been given more time, she could not think of anything else to say, and if she could, would it have really mattered? She had been talking to an empty barn, after all, adorned by the effects of someone long gone.
Perhaps it was best that someone had come for her after all; surely it was not good for her to suffer alone. She let the blanket drop from her shoulders and pool about her haunches as she sat up. With a quavering breath, Applejack reached up and took the Stetson off of her crown and sat it down beside her. How much she longed for one last, lingering sniff of his scent she would never tell to the pony that slowly approached her. The steps sounded heavy, and she assumed that her brother would soon drag her away from her memories and together they would bury them within the old barn. He broached her cautiously and with steps so measured that they sounded almost unnatural, like he was somehow overstepping his stride. She could respect him for his reverence in the still silence that filled the room; but, the sounds that his hooves made against the dusty floor seemed wrong; they were too muted, like he had taken off his shoes and replaced them with something more pliable. Yet, even if he had, the resonance of the steps was too far apart, almost as though he were not walking on four hooves, but instead on—
—“Two,” she choked.
The unusual resonance of steps came to a halt behind her, and though she certainly felt the familiarity of the presence that awaited her there, she couldn't bear to turn around. She must have been mistaken; she must have misheard the steps in her grief. It was surely her brother that stood behind her and he was merely being polite as he waited for her. She needed to go, and she understood that. They had a job to do, after all, and she was the only thing that was tying them up. So why then could she not move from that spot? Why then did she sit there and tremble as she stared at the long shadow that was cast in front of her? Why then did she tentatively sniff the air to smell a scent that lingered only within the tattered remains of an old blanket and a dusty, forgotten Stetson hat? Why did she suddenly feel like all that she ever wanted was right there behind her and that all she had to do was turn around to take it back?
Applejack could all but feel the eyes of the figure upon her body, and she quavered visibly as she listened to the sound of it kneeling. It reached out to her, and she knew that at any moment, its touch would be upon her, and all of the doubt that gripped her broken heart made her feel nothing but uncertainty about what was to come. It graced her first upon her back with a gentility that made her weep. It roved down the length of her spine and back up again in a way that made her shiver. It caressed her neck in a way that made her blush, and when it reached around to hold her about her barrel, her unblinking eyes spilled forth all of her sorrows at what she saw there.
The ebony hand drew her body into the bosom of the only thing that she had ever wanted, and when he lowered his lips to her ear and kissed it softy, he whispered the only words that she had needed to hear…
“I can take care of that.”
