Good Directions and Turnip Greens
Good Directions and Turnip Greens
Good Directions and Turnip Greens
The white unicorn didn’t know what she was doing. She just knew that she had to get away. Phillydelphia had gotten to be too much for her. It was suffocating. She hadn’t sold a dress in ages, and she could barely design. She always felt like a bug under a microscope, under constant scrutiny as ponies walked by her displays, wondering where they could find something that was better. She knew that she needed to get away. Moving away from her home in the city wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but what choice did she have now? The mare blew one of her purple curls from her face as she. She just knew that the cart on her back seemed to get lighter and lighter the further away from the city she got.
Ponyville. That’s where her parents were. They’d offered her the chance to move in with them, get back on her feet. . Maybe that’s where she needed to go. She hadn’t been there since she was a filly, and it would be nice to see her sister again…
Just head there Rarity. Maybe the country air will clear your head…And who knows, maybe it’s blossomed into a quaint little town. A budding metropolis of sorts. Maybe it will surprise you.
Not likely.
As Rarity walked down the road the town seemed to be exactly how she remembered it. An old, run-down place in serious need of some tender love and care. A few shops had been added to the square, but all in all it was the same one-horse town that she remembered as a filly. No wonder she’d left. A country mare, she was not.
“I don’t know what you were thinking, Rarity…” she mumbled bitterly as she pulled her cart through the town, flipping her mane and holding her head high with the dignity she carried from the big city. “One look at this place and you know you don’t belong here…” She continued, ignoring the looks she was getting. The ponies seemed friendly enough, but the sleek cart and ornate luggage bags were certainly a big contrast to the country-bumpkin stalls selling apples. She turned, getting off of the main road and headed another direction entirely. “I’ll just pass through. Mom and Dad will never know I was here. I’ll go to Canterlot. That’s where I belong.”
~
Hayseed Turnip Truck was laying in the sun by his cart of Turnips. There was nothing like enjoying some nice sun and munching on wheat. The outskirts of Ponyville were always a nice place for anypony to relax. Ad he could smell the apple family making Zap Apple Jam in the distance. Maybe Big Mac would let him swipe a jar…
His ears perked, hearing the sound of a cart in the distance. He straightened, dusting himself off to look presentable for a possible customer. Though, as he caught sight of the mare pulling it, the stallion’s eyes widened. She was probably the prettiest mare he’d ever seen, though it was obvious she wasn’t from around there. No, she was definitely a city pony.
“She’s probably thinkin’ this is where rednecks come from…” Hayseed said to himself with a chuckle.
The mare stopped in front of his cart full of turnips, the look of being in a hurry all over her face. “Excuse me…” She said, “But I seem to have taken a wrong turn. Could you be so kind as to tell me where the train station to Canterlot is?”
Nope. Definitely not a country pony. It took Hayseed a minute to find his voice, but the stallion nodded. “Sure.” He said, pointing down the road. “Ya go way up yonder past the apple fields. There’s this little wooden stall with an ol’ sign. You gotta stop and ask Granny Smith for some o’ her jam.” He said, the words seeming to tumble from his mouth in a manner that was just as clumsy as his accent. “Then a left will take ya to th’ train station, but a right will bring ya right back ‘ere t’ me.”
With a thank you and a flip of her perfectly curled mane, the mare was trotting off, leaving Hayseed to watch her disappear into a cloud of dust.
~
Rarity wasn’t sure why her heart was racing. Perhaps she was just excited to get to Canterlot. Start over in the place she really belonged. Somewhere she could really call home.
Apple orchards were soon on her left and right, and she could smell the sweet smell of cider as the stall and wooden sign came into view. She paused. Perhaps one cup wouldn’t hurt. And the cart was beginning to get heavy again. “Oh come now, Rarity. What will one bit of jam do?”
She propped her cart to the side and trotted up to the older pony behind the stall stacked high with jars containing jam that consisted of every color of the rainbow.
“Howdy there young’un.” The older mare, who Rarity presumed to be Granny Smith said cheerfully. “Care for some Zap Apple Jam?”
“Yes please.” Rarity said, using her magic to levitate four bits and place them on the stall.
“Y’all don’t look familiar. Have you ever had a jar of mah jam?” Granny Smith asked.
“No. A pony down the road selling turnips told me to try it.” Rarity replied, looking over the jars to select the shiniest of the bunch.
“Aw Hayseed always puts in good words for us apple folk. Here, Sugarcube.” Granny Smith ducked under the stall, producing a plate of toast and knife. “Go on and give it a try.”
Hayseed. What a fitting name for that country bumpkin. Rarity thought to herself as she used her magic to spread the jam onto the toast with perfect precision. She looked at Granny Smith rather skeptically. She wasn’t accustomed to eating anything that wasn’t served on a tablecloth. Granny Smith gave her a smile, and Rarity took a bite.
Her face immediately lit up. The jam was the perfect balance of sweet with every taste that came with apples. She’d never have anything like it. “This is amazing!” Rarity said with a smile, eagerly eating the rest of her toast and preparing another slice.
“Apple family secret.” Granny Smith said proudly. “Took me years t’ get it jus’ right. Ponies come from all over for it. Though they don’ usually bring as much as you did.”
“I’m just passing through on my way to Canterlot.” Rarity said. “My parents offered me a place to stay here, but I don’t think I belong in a place like…” She paused, catching herself. “That is, I don’t think I’m cut out for the country.”
Granny Smith gave her a nod. “You go t’ wherever feels right. Ah know how it feels t’ try findin’ where ya belong.” Granny Smith told her, pushing another jar her way. “An’ here. Take another jar on us. Ah hope you find yer home on yer travels.”
Rarity looked at the jar, then gave the elder pony a smile. She was suddenly unable to get Hayseed’s smiling face and silly accent out of her head. She gave it a small shake, forcing the thoughts out as she placed the two jars of jam in her cart. “Thank you very much.”
With that, the white unicorn hoisted up her cart, and began down the road again. It suddenly felt much heavier than usual, and she found herself pausing before the fork in the road.
“Y’all know where yer goin’ sugarcube?” Granny Smith called to her from the stall.
Rarity smiled “Yes. I think I do…”
~
Hayseed sighed “You didn’t even git her name.” He said, throwing down hat. He couldn’t stop thinking of her face, her hair, her voice. “Yer a dern fool fer not goin’ after her. There goes love.”
The stallion spent a few more moments looking down the road, the dust having finally settled from her wheels. He shook his head, flopping back down onto the grass. “Ah well. She probably didn’t like me anyhow…”
He closed his eyes, letting the wind blow over him, trying to get her image out of her head and focus on the sweet smell of the jam and apples caressing his muzzle.
Squeak squeak squeak…
His ears perked and he sat up like a jolt of lightning. Was the wind playing tricks on him? No. He was really seeing what he thought he was. The mare of his dreams was coming back to him.
Hayseed couldn’t help the goofy grin that appeared on his face as she stopped before his cart once again. “Y’all need directions again?” He asked.
Rarity giggled. “No. I went up…yonder. To the stall. I suppose something just felt sort of…right when I asked Granny Smith for that jam. She gave me two jars and well…In a way sent me right back here.”
The stallion smiled. “Well seems t’ me ya do need directions.”
Rarity gave him a confused look. “I do?”
“Y’all are gonna need a place t’ stay right?”
“Oh. Well, not exactly. My parents and sister are here. I suppose I’ll just head to their house.”
“May ah take yer cart and eescort you there?”
Rarity giggled again. “I’d like that.” She replied, letting the stallion pull her cart as the two made their way back to the one-horse town. He may have been a country bumpkin, but there was something awfully charming about the grass stains on his shirt and those rabbit teeth. It seemed Ponyville has surprised her after all.
