Between The Lines
“True love is selfless. It is prepared to sacrifice.”
—Sadhu Vaswani
~
Twilight Sparkle hummed as she trotted up the path to Sweet Apple Acres, a pair of heavy saddlebags on her back. Atop those saddlebags sat her trusty assistant, Spike, who studied their list of deliveries with interest.
Planting season had arrived in Ponyville. Along with the spring sun and blooming flowers came the necessities of labor and cultivation. The townsfolk emerged from the cozy cheer of winter to confront several months of blood, sweat, and toil.
While Twilight was no more a farm-pony than the dragon sitting on her back, she had her own ways of assisting her friends through these busy times. Specifically, delivering a good book or two (or five) to curl up with when dusk dipped below the horizon and the day’s work came to an end. There was no better way to relax than a good book by candlelight.
“How many more deliveries do we have left, Spike?” Twilight asked.
Spike twirled the pencil in between his claws and peered down at the list. “Uh… Actually, Twi, this is our last stop.” Raising an eyebrow, he glanced down at the swinging saddlebags. “Just how many books did you bring for the Apples?”
“Oh, you know,” Twilight said with a wave of her hoof, “a few.”
“A few?” Spike laughed.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “You can never have too many books!”
Spike rolled his eyes back at her. “I guess not…”
The two shared a laugh as Twilight trotted on, rounding the trail to the farm. Below them were rows and rows of apple trees. The scent of apple blossoms teased Twilight’s nostrils, making her smile. Sweet Apple Acres was beautiful this time of year.
As their laughter died down, Twilight picked up her pace, intent on finishing her delivery before Celestia met Luna in the skyline. Her own stack of books awaited her back at the Golden Oaks Library.
“So, what did you bring everypony?” Spike asked.
Twilight ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch, prompting Spike to do the same. “I brought some of those adventure books for Apple Bloom that she likes.”
“The Boxcar Fillies?”
Twilight nodded. “And the latest Daring Do for Applejack. Seems that Rainbow Dash isn’t the only pony who likes that series now.” She smirked. “And a few romance novels for Granny Smith.”
Spike grimaced. “Romance? Bleh!”
“Don’t act like I haven’t caught you rummaging around the romance section, Spike,” Twilight chided, her smirk growing wider.
Spike crossed his arms. “Pffft! Yeah, right.”
“Oh? Then where’s my copy of Different Bloods?”
“Huh?” Spike twiddled his claws, sweat beading on his brow. “What are you talking about?”
“You know, the one where the lovely mare Clover falls in love with—“
Spike pointed furtively, exclaiming, “Oh, hey! Look, it’s Big Mac!”
Tearing her eyes from him, Twilight looked in the direction of Spike’s claw. Down below the hill was the stallion himself, a thick collar around his neck.
Two ropes attached to the collar led to a rusted plow, which Big Macintosh was pulling with little ease. The blade cut deep rivets into the earth below his massive hooves, creating fresh rows in the patch of soil. A small cart filled with bags of various seeds lay beside the tilled ground. Big Macintosh appeared oblivious to their arrival, his green eyes focused straight ahead as sweat dripped down his mane and neck.
“Hey! Big Mac!” Twilight called, waving a forehoof to him.
The stallion jolted, freezing in the middle of his latest row. His eyes darted to the source of the interruption. When his eyes met hers, he smiled. “Howdy, Miss Twilight!” he called back, waving one of his shod forehooves. “Howdy, Spike!”
Saddlebags bouncing with each step, Twilight happily trotted down the hill to greet him. “More planting today?” she asked, coming to a rest near the cart. Spike hopped off her back and brushed dust off himself.
Big Macintosh nodded. “Eeyup. Corn an’ potatoes in this patch.” The stallion unhooked the ropes from his collar and joined them, stomping dirt from his hooves.
“Awesome!” Spike licked his lips. “That means corn on the cob by summer, right?”
“Eeyup!”
Spike rubbed his claws together. “Alright!”
Twilight giggled at the drool forming at the dragon’s lips, then turned back to Big Macintosh. “How long have you been working today?”
Big Macintosh wiped a forehoof over his brow. “Not too long. Thanks ta Ol’ Reliable here, o’ course.” He gestured to the plow with a smile.
The plow, despite its rust, shone in the sunlight, a blade cutting deep veins into the Earth. His smile seemed to reflect that pride, Twilight observed. While she didn’t know him as well as she knew Applejack, Twilight knew enough to surmise that the apples didn’t fall too far from the tree.
“Wow, that’s great!” Levitating her saddlebags in her magic, Twilight said, “Anyway, I don’t want to take you from your work too much, Big Mac, so why don’t I just give you this?“
“Hm? Give me what?” Big Macintosh asked, tilting his head.
“Oh! Silly me!” With a chuckle, Twilight closed her saddlebags. “Well, since everypony is busy with planting season right now, I thought of a way to help. Not with magic,” she said quickly, all too well aware of how that had gone during Winter Wrap-Up. “I thought, ‘What would be a good way to help everypony relax after a hard day’s work?’”
Big Macintosh smiled sheepishly. “Aw, shucks. That’s mighty fine o’ ya, Miss Twilight.”
“Thank you.” Opening her saddlebags again, Twilight continued, “I thought about it for a while, and then I realized… What better way to relax than with a good book?”
Spike reached up and nudged Big Macintosh on the shoulder. “Nopony told her that chocolate ice cream is better. Otherwise, you’d be getting a pint right now,” he muttered, shooting her a cheeky grin.
Twilight scoffed. “What have I told you about the ice cream, Spike?”
“Yeah, yeah… “ Spike mumbled.
Twilight turned back to Big Macintosh with another chuckle. “So, anyway, I thought that, since everypony will be too busy to go to the library, I’d bring the library to them!”
With that triumphant declaration, Twilight finally revealed the book she had selected that morning for Big Macintosh: The Art Of Woodworking.
Admittedly, it had been a difficult decision to make. As little as Twilight knew about Big Macintosh, she knew even less about his reading preferences. It hadn’t been a subject to come up in her past conversations with Applejack. However, she did know he liked to whittle on occasion.
Holding up The Art Of Woodworking, Twilight eagerly met the stallion’s gaze. “And this is what I brought for you! I hope you like it!”
Spike peered up at the book’s title. “Woodworking, huh? That… actually sounds kinda fun,” he admitted. “What do you think, Big Mac?”
For a moment, Big Macintosh did not reply, his eyes widening. He took a step back away from the book in the purple aura, looking at it with what appeared to be confusion.
Then again, perhaps he was simply overwhelmed by the gesture, Twilight reasoned. She allowed a few moments of silence to pass before she spoke up again.
“I really wasn’t too sure of what you like. Sorry if it’s not in your taste,” Twilight said, a little quieter than before. She swallowed, feeling a strange sort of unease. “I have some others if you’d rather—“
“That’s alright, Miss Twilight.” Big Macintosh took another step back. “That’s… That’s mighty fine o’ ya, but, Ah’m afraid Ah must decline.”
Twilight frowned. “Are… Are you sure?” she asked, still holding the book close to him. “It’s okay, really! I don’t have a due date on these. I’m just letting everypony—“
“Eenope, that’s alright.” Grabbing the ropes attached to the plow, Big Macintosh added, “Ah’m sure AJ would like it. Why don’t ya let her borrow it?”
Nearly dropping the book, Twilight’s frown deepened. “But… I have—“
As he tied the ropes to his collar, Big Macintosh raised a forehoof. “Miss Twilight, please, Ah gotta get back ta work.” He nodded to her and Spike. “Y’all have a good day now, ya hear?”
Before Twilight could object further, Big Macintosh tugged at the ropes, found they were sturdy, and turned his back to her. Within a few seconds, his strong hooves were pulling the plow again, resuming his tilling. Without another word, the stallion’s keen eyes turned back to the task before him as he drew his blade, back and forth, into the heart of the Earth.
Confused, Twilight slowly set the book back in its bag. Spike, standing beside her, seemed equally perplexed, his brow furrowed. The two exchanged quizzical expressions, finding no answers in the silence.
“Um… Alright…” Twilight levitated the saddlebags onto her back. “Okay… Bye?”
Big Macintosh didn’t even look her direction. “Goodbye!”
With a shrug, Twilight turned to Spike. “Um… The farmhouse next, I guess?”
Spike shrugged in turn. “I guess.”
The walk the rest of the way was short and silent.
~
“Well, howdy, Spike! Howdy, Twi!” Applejack greeted. She stepped out onto the porch to join them in the breeze, taking a greedy gulp of the fresh, spring air. “Sure is a mighty fine day, ain’t it?”
“Sure is,” Twilight said, though not as enthusiastically as she should have.
“Bringin’ some books fer us?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Saw ya doin’ the same fer the Flower Sisters yesterday. Sorry Ah didn’t say hi,” Applejack added, rubbing the back of her neck with a forehoof. “Was a mite busy.”
“That’s fine.” Twilight set the saddlebags down. “I was just wondering since nopony filled Big Macintosh in.”
“Whatcha mean?”
Spike opened Twilight’s saddlebags. “We tried to give him this book—“ he held up The Art Of Woodworking—“and he was pretty confused. Refused to take it, too.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Refused ta take it?”
“Yeah!” Spike set the book down on a nearby stool. “I mean, it’s not the most exciting book in the world, but—“
“It was a decent guess!” Twilight protested, feeling slight offense. She narrowed her eyes on him. “What would you have picked?”
“Eh, I dunno. I’m just saying,” Spike replied, patting the book, “that maybe you could have gone with something a little more interesting?”
“Like what?” Twilight smirked. “Maybe Differ—”
Applejack stepped in between them. “Aw, don’t feel bad ‘bout it, Twilight. Big Mac’s jus’ busy right now. Don’t take offense.”
Twilight sighed. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.” After selecting a few of the Boxcar Fillies books, she passed them to Spike. “Is Apple Bloom home?”
“Eeyup, she’s in the kitchen. Ah take it those are fer her?”
Twilight nodded.
Applejack opened the door for Spike. “Go on now, Ah bet she’ll love ‘em!”
Spike beamed. “Thanks, Applejack! I’ll be right back.” With that, he headed into the farmhouse, carrying the three novel-length books in his claws.
Applejack chuckled. “AB’s a right ol’ reader, jus’ like Granny. She’ll get through those in a week or two, Ah betcha.”
A slight smile spread across Twilight’s muzzle. Though she had struck out when it came to Big Macintosh’s book, at least she had gotten right on the mark with Apple Bloom’s. Using her magic, she withdrew the rest of the books, placing them into two piles on the porch—one for Applejack, one for Granny Smith. The Art Of Woodworking was quietly tucked back into her saddlebags.
Grinning, Applejack looked over the two stacks. “Why, thank ya, Twi! The new Darin’ Do, huh? An’ Granny’s gonna be happy too! She’s always been readin’ these kinda books, long as Ah can remember… Have ta keep ‘em away from AB, though.” She blushed slightly as she pointed at one, The Valley Of The Dolls.
Giggling, Twilight brought a forehoof to her muzzle. “Yeah, I don’t recommend letting her get her hooves on those for a few more years.”
“A few years?!” Applejack whooped. “More like a few decades, Twi! Shoot!”
“Oh, c’mon, AJ. You can’t keep her innocent forever!”
“Ah guess not! Heh, heh.” Coming down from her laughter, Applejack reached over and pulled Twilight into a sideways-hug. “Really appreciate ya bringin’ all this fer us, Twi. If Ah didn’t have a mile-long list o’ chores ta get done today, Ah’d bake ya a pie right now.”
Twilight returned the hug. “Aw, you don’t have to do that, Applejack. It’s the least I can do. But…” As she pulled away, her frown returned. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring something that Big Macintosh would enjoy. I just… I really don’t know what he likes to read. Do you have any ideas?”
Applejack shook her head. “Ah wouldn’t worry ‘bout it, Twi. Work tires us all out, but it hits him pretty hard. Ah don’t think he’ll have the time.”
“No time for reading?” This time, Twilight was the one to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, please! There’s always time for reading! Now, is he more into adventure stories? Maybe horror? Mystery? Com—“
“Ah said, don’t worry ‘bout it, Twilight,” Applejack said, her voice stern.
Twilight bit her lip. “But… I—“
“You’re welcome, Apple Bloom!” Spike waved as he stepped out of the farmhouse and onto the porch. Both mares turned to him as he joined their side. The dragon grinned and wiped a few crumbs from his lips. “Deliver some books, get some cookies. All in a day’s work!”
Applejack grinned. “Don’t tell me you an’ AB ate the last o’ the chocolate chip coolin’ on the windowsill.”
Sticking his snout into the air, Spike crossed his arms. “… Maybe.”
Another hearty laugh escaped Applejack as she scooped up the two piles of books. “Well, that’s alright. Anyway, Ah really appreciate y’all doin’ this fer us! We’ll bring everythin’ back when it’s done so somepony else can read ‘em. Thanks again, Twi!”
Looking from her saddlebags to Applejack, Twilight began again, “But—“
Applejack headed towards the door, waving at the two. “G’night! Walk home safe!”
The door slammed shut, leaving Spike and Twilight on the porch.
“Something wrong, Twi?” Spike laid a claw on her shoulder. “You look kinda upset.”
“Not upset, really… Just confused.” Lighting her horn, Twilight slung the saddlebags over her back, then gestured for Spike to climb up.
Spike hopped up on her back. “About what happened with Big Mac?”
Twilight started off the porch. “Yeah. That was really… weird.”
“Yeah, it was. Applejack say anything about it?”
Grass crunched beneath her hooves as Twilight took a different route out of Sweet Apple Acres. “Just not to worry about it. That Big Macintosh won’t have time to read.”
Spike gestured with his claws. “Well, there you go! You didn’t pick out the wrong book then. He just doesn’t have time for reading.”
Twilight opened her muzzle to object, then decided against it. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.”
The two continued towards home, chasing the sun in a steady race of hooves against horizon. On the way, Spike, in a much better mood than he had been recently, talked about the chocolate chip cookies he and Apple Bloom had devoured, and her retellings of the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ latest adventures.
Twilight Sparkle listened to all he said, though her mind was on a different subject entirely.
What kind of pony didn’t have time to read? And why hadn’t Big Macintosh just told her so?
~
“I’m heading to the market, Spike. Do you need anything?”
With a fair amount of reading out of her way, Twilight was feeling restless. While her kitchen was far from bare, a little shopping never hurt anypony. At least, that’s what Rarity had told her.
Spike, perched on an empty bookshelf, a book about the Equestria Games in his claws, shook his head. “Naw. Have fun at the market, Twi.”
Twilight trotted towards the door, a pair of empty saddlebags across her back. “You sure you don’t need anything?”
Spike’s spare claw wandered towards a bowl of hard candies beside him. “I’ll be fine.”
“Alright. See you later!”
Twilight stepped into another spring day in Ponyville. After closing the door behind her and changing the library’s sign to “Be back in an hour,” she started towards the town square.
Though Applejack had told her not to worry, Twilight, in her typical fashion, hadn’t been able to shake the encounter with Big Macintosh from the forefront of her mind.
The way he reacted when presented with the book, the way he stepped away, eyes wide, and resumed his work with only a few parting words, was beyond odd to Twilight.
Had she offended him? How? Had she, perhaps, unknowingly implied that she felt his woodworking skills were not up to par? Had she, by the suggestion of such a “boring” book (according to Spike, at least), inadvertently hinted that Big Macintosh was boring as well?
As she passed by crowds of bustling customers, Applejack’s words echoed through Twilight’s mind.
”Ah don’t think he’ll have the time.”
If a Wonderbolt-in-training could find the time to read Daring Do, why couldn’t he?
“Hello, Twilight!”
“H-huh?”
Pulled from her thoughts, Twilight looked up to see that she had wandered to Carrot Top’s stand. The mare gave her a warm smile and gestured to boxes of carrot juice and fresh carrots arranged on her shelves. “What can I get for you today?”
“Oh! Um…” Twilight looked over her offerings. “A few carrots, I guess.”
“Three?”
Twilight nodded.
Carrot selected three of her finest and put them in a bag.
Twilight passed a bit over to her, then put the carrots in her saddlebags. “Thanks, Carrot!”
“No problem. Have a good day. Oh, good to see you, Big Mac!”
Big Mac?
Stepping aside, Twilight looked to see the enormous stallion joining her at the stand. A warm smile graced his tired muzzle. “Well, howdy, Miss Twilight, Miss Carrot Top.”
Behind the stand, Carrot blushed and fanned her face with a forehoof.
Beside him, Twilight returned the smile. “Oh, hey, Big Mac! How are you?”
“Ah’m alright.”
“Good! Heh…” Rubbing her nape, Twilight said, “Hey, um, listen, I’m sorry about—“
Big Macintosh raised a forehoof. “Nothin’ ta be sorry ‘bout, Miss Twilight. Ah’m the one who should be apologizin’ fer bein’ so short with ya.”
“No, that’s alright!” Twilight shook her head. “It’s fine. I understand.”
At that, Big Macintosh said nothing.
Twilight turned around. “Well, it was good running into you again! Have a good day, Big Mac!”
He nodded, offering her a slight smile. “Thank ya, Miss Twilight. You as well.”
Waving goodbye, Twilight trotted off. She headed towards Davenport’s stand next, intent on buying several new quills (but no new sofas).
Twilight had only made it about halfway when the voice of Big Macintosh, carried by the slight, spring breeze, drifted into her ears.
”Ah thought they were only one bit fer five, Miss Carrot Top.”
Huh? Twilight looked over her shoulder.
At the carrot stand, Big Macintosh had placed a single bit next down to a bundle of carrots. Carrot Top pointed to the sign posted below the shelves outlining the prices. ”One bit for three, Big Macintosh. Right here.”
Twilight watched as the stallion shuffled his hooves, peering up at the sign. Moments later, he pushed two of the carrots away, then bowed his head. “Ma mistake, Miss Carrot Top. Ma eyes are tired.”
Eyes are tired? Maybe he wears glasses? Twilight continued to watch, hidden by the nigh-continuous stream of customers milling about the marketplace.
If she was bothered by this mistake, Carrot Top didn’t show it. She simply nodded, took his bit, and placed the carrots in a bag. Big Macintosh placed them in his saddlebag and gave her a parting thanks. Then, he hurried off, disappearing as much as a stallion of his stature could into the sea of ponies.
Twilight Sparkle, her quills forgotten, decided to cut her trip to the market short this morning.
~
“Hey, Spike! I’m back!”
Still engrossed in his book, Spike merely grunted in response.
Twilight removed the carrots from her saddlebags. After hanging the empty bags up, she laid the carrots on the kitchen counter, then returned to the central room of the library. “Spike, I have a question for you.”
Spike popped a caramel into his mouth. “Sure, Twi,” he said, his eyes glued to the pages. “What is it?”
“Do you know if Big Macintosh wears glasses?”
Slowly, the dragon looked up from his book. “Glasses? What makes you think he wears glasses?”
“When I was at the market today, Big Macintosh went to Carrot Top’s stand. He made a mistake with the prices, and when she mentioned it, he said his eyes were tired,” Twilight explained. Although vision problems were no laughing matter, she couldn’t help but smile as she relayed the anecdote for him, hoping that she had solved the mystery of the stallion’s reaction to her book.
Maybe the Apple Family is on a bit of hard times right now and he needs new glasses? I would be happy to get them for him! I know he would be able to repay by harvest time, if I let him repay me at all!
Spike tapped his chin. “Hmm… No, not that I know of.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ve never seen him with glasses, and never heard from anypony that he wears them… Wait a minute. Why are you asking me?” Spike pointed a claw at her. “Wouldn’t you know something like that? You hang out with him and Applejack more than I do!”
“I… I don’t really talk to him much, actually.” Twilight’s ears flattened. While she dug a forehoof at the floorboards, she added, “He’s around whenever I go visit Applejack, and I see him in the market often, but… He’s always so… quiet.”
“So is Fluttershy, and you know a lot about her.”
Sensing a bit of an edge to his voice, Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Spike, is something wrong?”
“It just seems… Weird to me, Twilight,” Spike said slowly, as if he was carefully choosing his words, “that you barely talk to him, and now that he turned down a book you brought him, you want to know all about him. You took it so… heavily, I guess. I mean… It’s not that big of a deal, right?”
“Well…” Twilight looked away from him. After a moment, she said, “I guess it’s not that I feel offended when I really think about it. It’s more like… He seemed almost… Hurt when I brought him a book. Didn’t it?”
Spike closed the book and set it beside him, bringing his claws together. He swung his feet back and forth off the shelf, as if in deep thought. “Yeah…” he said after a brief pause. “Yeah… It… Kinda did. Almost like he was… scared.”
Twilight began to pace. “Yeah… That’s what I was thinking too. I may not know Big Macintosh that well, but… If there’s something wrong, and something I can help with, I would like to help him.”
Spike nodded. “Well, why don’t you go ask him?”
Twilight looked up. “I… I’m not sure I can just go randomly ask that, Spike. He seemed okay talking to me a little at Carrot Top’s stand, but… You know how Apple Family pride can be.”
Spike nodded again. “Hmm… Wouldn’t the eye doctor, Keen Sight, know if he wore glasses?”
Immediately, Twilight perked up. “That’s a great idea, Spike! You know what? I have a little free time in my schedule, so I’ll go ask him right now. Thank you!”
With a smirk, Spike picked up his book. “Don’t mention it.”
Another wave between friends, and Twilight Sparkle was out again, stepping into the spring sunlight.
~
The bell above the door to the optometrist’s office jingled as Twilight walked inside. In the waiting room, several elderly stallions, a middle-aged mare, and a few spectacled foals briefly glanced in her direction, then went back to reading their outdated magazines. With a shrug, Twilight trotted past them and to the receptionist’s desk.
“Hi, how can I help you?” the receptionist asked.
“I’m here to see Keen Sight,” Twilight said. “Is he available?”
The receptionist glanced at the open appointment book in her forehooves. “What’s your name?”
“Twilight Sparkle.”
“Hmm… I don’t see a ‘Twilight Sparkle’ here.”
Twilight cleared her throat. “Oh, no, I’m not here for an appointment. I just wanted to ask him a quick question.”
The receptionist raised an eyebrow.
“You see, I think a friend of mine has eye problems, and I was wanting to know if he wears glasses.”
“Er… Why didn’t you just ask your friend?” the receptionist replied, giving her a wary stare.
Clearing her throat again, Twilight fumbled for an excuse. “Ah, well… Um… You see, it’s kinda—”
“Twilight Sparkle?”
At his voice, Twilight nearly stumbled backwards, though her surprise was quickly replaced with a cheerful smile. “Keen Sight! Just the stallion I was looking for.”
The optometrist trotted over, wiping his glasses on his white lab coat with his magic. “I’m on a break right now, but I have a few minutes. Do you need to make an appointment?”
“No, actually, I was wondering if you could tell me whether somepony is a patient of yours.” Twilight fidgeted. “It’s kind of a… private thing. I think he might need glasses but can’t afford them, so I was wanting to see if he had a prescription on file.”
Keen Sight rubbed his chin. “Hmm… You do realize there is such a thing as patient confidentiality, don’t you?”
“I do,” Twilight said with a quick nod, “but I’m not looking for anything specific. Just yes or no as to whether he’s seen you before, and yes or no as to whether he needs glasses.”
The stallion leaned against the counter, continuing to rub his chin in thought, while his receptionist looked between them. Finally, Keen Sight merely nodded and gestured with a forehoof for her to speak into his ear.
Nearly breathing a sigh of relief, Twilight leaned in and whispered to him, “Big Macintosh.”
As she pulled away, Keen Sight’s bright, blue eyes widened for a moment. Then, he smiled. “Oh, I know him!”
Surprised by his quick reply, Twilight asked, “You do? So, does he—”
“Are you kidding me?” Keen Sight laughed, smacking a forehoof against his chest. “Eyesight sharp as a tack, that one. He comes in for an exam every two years, but there’s no need. That colt can see as far as a Gryphon scout!”
The pieces of the puzzle parted before Twilight’s eyes, leaving her high and dry, surrounded by an ocean of doubt. He can see perfectly? Then why didn’t he see Carrot’s sign? Why did he say his eyes were bothering him?
“Is there anything else I can help you with, Twilight?” Keen Sight tapped the watch on his left fetlock. “I have patients to attend to.”
Shaking herself into reality, Twilight exclaimed, “Oh! I’m sorry! No, no, you’re fine, you’re fine. Er.” She cleared her throat again. “Thank you, Keen Sight. I’ll… Uh… I’ll be going now.”
The optometrist nodded, giving her one last smile. “You’re welcome. Be sure to eat your carrots! Keeps your eyes healthy!”
Turning around, Twilight Sparkle chose not to reply, letting the continued mystery of Big Macintosh lead her back into the streets.
~
Trotting back from Keen Sight’s office, Twilight realized that she had neglected to prepare herself (and Spike, for that matter) a proper lunch. While Spike would be more than alright fending for himself, Twilight’s stomach would have none of her negligence. It roared and rolled like peals of thunder, striking while her mind was still engrossed in her current dilemma.
Twilight stopped in her tracks about halfway to the Golden Oaks Library and sought nourishment for her angry belly. The most obvious choice was her favorite little cafe, Horte Cuisine, where only the finest daffodil and daisy sandwiches were paired with the most delectable hayfries.
Fried food always helped solve a mystery, after all.
Maybe I’ll think of something while I’m eating, Twilight rationalized, thankful that she had brought her coin purse along with her on this second trip.
The waiter, who recognized her with a knowing smile, showed her to an outdoor table. He quickly took her order for her favorite sandwich with hayfries, as well as a glass of lemonade.
Grateful for the expedient service, Twilight wasted no time in reading the menu, instead propping her head against her forehoof and swirling the mystery around once more. When her glass of lemonade arrived, she swirled her thoughts along with the straw.
Perhaps… Could it be… No! No, don’t jump to conclusions. Twilight mentally chastised herself for even thinking such a thing. Stereotypes, Twilight. Don’t believe them. Don’t—
On the other side of the outdoor seating area, Twilight heard her waiter greet another guest. “Welcome to Horte Cuisine. How are you doing today?”
“Why, thank ya kindly, sir, Ah’m doin’ fine. An’ yerself?”
Distracted in mid-drink of her lemonade, Twilight nearly choked when she heard his voice.
Big Macintosh is here? In the middle of the day? But… but what about planting season? What about being too busy for anything but work and sleep?
“Just fine, sir. What will be ze order?” the waiter asked in his Prench accent.
Across from her, hidden by the restaurant’s decor, revealed by his trademark tone, Big Macintosh chuckled. “Well… Ah… Give me a second…”
Curious, Twilight set her lemonade down, then trotted to one of the bushes dividing the two sides of the outdoor seating area. The sole guest on this side, she only had to fear appearing strange to outsiders. That ship having long sailed, she parted the leaves in the bush and peered through the foliage.
Big Macintosh was holding the menu. Next to him was a newspaper.
From here, Twilight could see a few drops of glistening sweat on the stallion’s brow. “Um… Ah…” His eyes darted across the undecipherable pages of the menu. “Ah’ll… Ah’ll have…”
“Sir, ze menu is upside-down,” the waiter said with a cough.
“Oh! R-right.”
If it were possible for Big Macintosh to blush against the deep crimson of his coat, Twilight saw him do so now.
After turning the menu right-side-up, Big Macintosh took a few more seconds, which seemed to pass like an eternity for both him and his observer. The thick beads of sweat lingering on his brow rolled down his mane, amplified by the gentle spring sun and its accompanying breeze.
Finally, Big Macintosh set the menu down. “Ah’ll have… Um… The special.”
“Ze chickpea salad, sir?”
“Eeyup.”
Though he said it as he always did, Twilight could hear the faltering confidence in his voice.
The waiter nodded, picked up the menu, and hurried off with his order.
Blinking, Twilight watched as Big Macintosh picked up the newspaper next, opening to a page inside. His keen eyes, sharp enough to serve as a scout in the Griffon army, zeroed in on an article within.
Twilight stepped back out of the bush, ducking to avoid Big Macintosh’s eyes. More questions than answers were added to her litany of perplexities, and all of them begged to be drowned in fried hay, cool lemonade, and her favorite flowers smushed between bread.
For the next ten minutes or so, Twilight munched her sandwich and dipped her fries in ketchup, attempting to melt her thoughts away with the ice in her glass.
Maybe I’m reading into things that aren’t really there. Maybe I’m taking this too much to heart. Maybe Spike’s right. Big Macintosh has always been Applejack’s dependable brother. Honest, quiet, kind, helpful… So what if he doesn’t want to borrow any of my books? Not everypony likes to read… As strange as that even sounds just thinking it…
Soon, the beast in her belly was calmed. The plate was empty, devoid of even the smallest sliver of a hayfry or the last petal of a daisy. Her waiter arrived with the bill. Twilight counted out ten bits and added two more, leaving them on the bill on the table.
Before she left, Twilight looked around. Once. Twice.
She was still alone on this side.
I guess I'll just see how he’s doing before I go.
Crouching low, Twilight parted the bushes and peered through the leaves.
At his table, Big Macintosh was still waiting for his chickpea salad. A glass of water sat before him, which he occasionally sipped. Most interesting was the newspaper he held in his forehooves.
He was still on the same page.
Ten minutes? Must have been an interesting article, I guess…Or ma—
“Twilight? Uh, what are you doing?”
“Aaah!” Twilight jumped up, nearly falling onto her back. She quickly covered her mouth with a forehoof and crouched down, hoping, no, praying that Big Macintosh hadn’t seen or heard her, hadn’t seen or heard her being so—
“Uh, you okay, Twi? Why are you in the bushes?”
“Sp-Spike?”
Looking over her shoulder, Twilight saw Spike standing there, a vanilla ice cream cone in one of his claws. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s me. And who are you? Miss Creepy?”
“Shhhh!” Holding a forehoof to her lips, Twilight crawled out from the bush, shaking leaves from her mane as she emerged. “C’mon! Let’s go, before he sees!”
Spike narrowed his eyes. “Uh… okay…”
Without another word, Spike followed Twilight as she took to her hooves, moving near a canter as she made her way from Horte Cuisine. The dragon licked his ice cream cone in silence, eying her suspiciously. Twilight, cheeks as red as Big Macintosh’s coat, chose to seek refuge in that silence, waiting until the two arrived at the library’s front door before speaking again.
“Okay, look,” Twilight insisted, opening the door with her magic, “it’s not what it looked like.”
“Uh-huh.” Spike walked inside, wrapping his tongue around his ice cream.
Shutting the door behind them, Twilight protested, “I’m being serious, Spike! I wasn’t just… just staring at him for no good reason!”
“Sure.”
“You see, after I went to Keen Sight, and he said Big Macintosh had the sharpest vision around, I got hungry, and then—”
Spike turned around. “Wait. Keen Sight said he didn’t need glasses?”
Twilight nodded vigorously. “Exactly! So then, I was a little hungry, so I decided to get some lunch, and while I was there, Big Macintosh showed up again! He didn’t see me, but I could hear him, and I… could see him through the bushes,” she muttered, scarlet stinging her cheeks.
Before Spike could comment, Twilight continued, “And I saw a few other things, Spike! He was holding the menu upside-down, and eventually just asked for the special. A chickpea salad. Do you know any Apple who eats chickpeas? That’s high-society food! Something I ate back in Canterlot, not here!”
Ice cream forgotten, Spike sat down on a bookshelf again, scratching his chin. “That… That is kind of weird…”
“He had a newspaper with him. Normal, right? So, I go back to eating my lunch. Ten minutes pass. I’m about ready to leave, but I think, ‘Huh, maybe I’ll just see if he’s doing alright before I go.’ Because he was acting so strangely.”
“Right…”
“There’s another thing, Spike…”
Twilight bit her lip, composing herself before revealing the last piece of this strange puzzle. In her embarrassment at Spike’s discovery of her rather compromising position, she had neglected to truly analyze this information; now that she had a spare moment, she did so, and realized the direction the clues were compelling her to arrive.
“He… He had the same page of the newspaper open that he did ten minutes before. Same page. I could tell because I could read the headline of that page from… where I was. I didn’t even see his eyes move across the page.”
Silence.
Little droplets of vanilla ice cream fell onto the bookshelf below, pooling sticky puddles on the oak. Spike didn’t notice, and Twilight didn’t care. She began to pace around the golden statue in the middle of her library, circling the emblem as the sea of doubt parted around her.
“Now… I… I don’t want to jump to conclusions,” Twilight thought aloud, shaking her head, “but… Everything seems to point to…”
She couldn’t finish.
Twilight, who had been reading since she could speak, who lived in a library, who lived and breathed books and tomes and knowledge and wisdom, couldn’t say these few words.
Neither could Spike, who, though he was no learned scholar, nor an aspiring one, he was a reader himself, as well as that librarian’s assistant and best friend.
Finally, when his ice cream cone was but a soggy mess of sugar, milk, and wheat, Spike looked up from the floor and met Twilight’s eyes, heavy with concern and disbelief.
“But… How?”
Twilight ceased her pacing, stopping to sigh and stare at her hooves. “I… I don’t know. But… If this is true… I want to help him. He’s my friend.”
Spike hopped off the shelf. “He’s my friend too. I want to help.”
Twilight shook her head. “No, Spike, I… I think I should confront him alone. That way, it’s just one-on-one. I don’t want him to feel like he’s being judged or attacked.”
“I won’t judge or attack him!” Spike said, raising his voice.
Twilight raised a forehoof. “I didn’t say you would! I just… In case this goes wrong, I don’t want to see you get hurt. This is… a deeply private thing, and Big Macintosh might get angry. You know how angry he was when the Cutie Mark Crusaders were writing all those rumors in the Foal Free Press. If I’m right, then… He’ll be even angrier.”
Spike raised a claw, then lowered it. “Well…” Shuffling his feet, he sighed, then said, “Alright. Just… Don’t exclude me from this, okay?” He frowned. “If he really needs help, I want to help him in some way, too.”
Twilight nuzzled his cheek. “Of course, Spike,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “I promise I will.”
With a smile of his own, Spike hugged her back. As he did so, drops of vanilla dotted her mane. Twilight Sparkle noticed, but didn’t care.
Spilled milk was the least of the problems in the world.
~
It was near dusk when Twilight left the Golden Oaks Library for the third time that day. Like yesterday, she carried a pair of saddlebags with her.
This time, there was only one book inside. Twilight hoped she didn’t have to use it.
The marketplace was dispersing as she trotted through. Carrot Top and her stand had long been packed away. The doors of Horte Cuisine closed for the evening. Street-lamps were lit by the city’s lamplighters..
Day had not yet faded to night, for which she was grateful. A farm-pony had at least another hour of work left until the skies darkened and the demands of labor came to a close.
Twilight hurried on.
As she neared Sweet Apple Acres, she mentally rehearsed the confrontation that was to come. Twilight was a mare of science, of reason, of rationality; she would never partake in such a dangerous meeting without a logical reason. The facts presented to her spoke of a very logical reason.
And a very tragic one.
I just hope he’ll give me a chance in the first place…
Rounding the crest of Sweet Apple Acres’ highest hill, Twilight looked down to see a familiar figure. This time, he was moving from apple tree to apple tree, checking their branches, moving his lips as if he were counting their blossoms.
A true farm-pony was versed in methods and sciences that no book could truly articulate.
Swallowing hard, Twilight took one last breath. Then, she descended the hill, and made herself known.
“Hi, Big Macintosh!”
The stallion spun around, his muscles tensing at first, as if his visitor were an intruder rather than a guest. His expression softened, a gentle smile gracing his muzzle. “Howdy again, Miss Twilight. We need ta stop meetin’ like this.”
Twilight mustered a chuckle as she joined him beneath the apple tree. “Heh, heh, y-yeah…”
“Somethin’ Ah can help ya with?”
There it was again—the lump in her throat.
Twilight coughed and rubbed her neck. Though she was no Apple, she lied just as well as one. “Ah… N-no. Actually, um… I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Big Macintosh tilted his head. “Whaddya mean, Miss Twilight? Ah’m doin’ fine an’ dandy. A li’l sore,” he admitted, stretching out his hindhooves, “but nothin’ Ah can’t handle.”
“No… That’s not what I mean.”
Twilight’s heart was hammering a frightful tempo against her ribcage, roaring with the voice of the gathering storm above her doubt. To be correct in this hypothesis would be far greater and more terrible than it would be if incorrect. For perhaps the first time in her young life, Twilight Sparkle wanted to be wrong, and be wrong right now.
The stallion took a step back, as if he sensed her storm and the thing in her saddlebags. “Miss Twilight… Is this… is this ‘bout… yesterday?”
Yesterday. He said the last word as a frightened colt would, as if it were the ghost in his attic or the skeleton in his closet.
Twilight nodded. Choosing aura over articulation, she removed her saddlebags from her back, then opened them.
“Big Macintosh… I… I think… There may be something I can help you with.”
Simple.
Simple words.
“There’s… no shame in needing help, you see.” Twilight fidgeted. “We all have things we need help with. There are some things I can’t do, like ice skate, or use a snowplow, or… o-other things.”
His keen, green eyes locked onto hers, their pupils beginning to dilate, as if she were a predator, as if she were an enemy combatant. The stallion with the eyes of a Griffon scout stood frozen beneath his apple tree in his orchard, unable to speak.
With one last breath, Twilight levitated the book from her saddlebags.
“I… I think you have something you need help with, Big Macintosh, and… I want to help you with that.”
Twilight held the book up to Big Macintosh’s eyes.
He couldn’t read it, but she could:
Overcoming Adult Illiteracy
Big Macintosh’s lips trembled. “Tw… Twilight...”
Twilight smiled. “It’s okay. You’re not a bad pony, Big Macintosh. You… just missed some things along the way. And I… I want to help you.”
He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly.
“We can have lessons at the library. Nopony needs to know. I think, in a few weeks, we could maybe—”
”NO!”
Simple.
A simple word.
Big Macintosh’s keen green eyes were as fiery as his coat, as fiery as a raging tempest. Stepping away from Twilight as if she had spat in his face, as if she had cursed his mother, as if she had told him the world was ending in a maelstrom of weeping and gnashing of teeth, he barked again, ”NO! Ah’m! Ah’m not—NO!”
In this moment, Twilight truly realized how big he was, how strong he was, and how utterly terrifying he could be if provoked to anger.
Taking a defensive stance, Twilight said, as calmly as she could in her fear, “Big Macintosh, please, I just want to—”
A flurry of movement, a churning of hooves, and a streak of scarlet.
Big Macintosh, all four hooves the wheels of a locomotive, turned tail and ran, ran away from the sun, from Twilight, from the book in her magic.
”Big Macintosh! Wait!”
He kicked up a cloud of dust in his wake, making her cough, making her drop the book. It landed with a thud on the path and stared straight up at her when the dust settled.
Big Macintosh was nowhere to be seen.
Twilight hung her head. “That’s what I was afraid of…”
After placing the book back in her saddlebags, she started towards the farmhouse.
~
“Ah’m comin’! Ah’m a-comin’!”
The wait between Applejack’s words and her face appearing from behind the door was more eternal than Tartarus itself.
“Howdy, Twi! What brings ya ‘round here? An’ why do ya look so dusty?”
“Applejack, can I come in?”
Applejack opened the door wide and stepped aside. “Well, sure, sugarcube! Yer always welcome here.”
Not for long. “Thank you, Applejack.”
Once her hooves met the floorboards of the Apple Family’s living room, Twilight cast off her guilty saddlebags and set them by the door. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. Apple Bloom was nowhere to be seen, nor was Big Macintosh.
There was, however, a bright-eyed Granny Smith, though her tail was far from bushy. She sat in her favorite rocking chair and wore both her orange-and-red, lace-lined bandana and a smile. “Well, hello there, stranger! Ain’t seen ya ‘round here in a while.”
“She was here yesterday, Granny, remember?” Applejack chuckled. “With the books, includin’ the ones you wanted?”
“Aw, that’s right!” Granny Smith smacked her flank and laughed. “C’mere, child! Ah should give ya a hug fer bringin’ me all those books!”
Twilight grinned sheepishly. “Um… That’s alright. Uh, have either of you two seen Big Macintosh around?”
“Well, can’t say that Ah have,” Granny answered, stretching her forehooves and yawning. “Ah been nappin’ until ya got here, young 'un."
“Oh, sorry.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Twi,” Applejack said, patting her on the shoulder. “Granny sleeps eighteen hours o’ the day anyway. She won’t miss a few minutes.”
Granny Smith narrowed her eyes at her granddaughter. “Don’t ya get cheeky with me, missy! It’s sixteen!”
Applejack waved a forehoof. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Pointing over at Twilight, Granny countered, “Maybe Ah should adopt her as yer replacement, Applejack! At least she knows her manners!”
While the two Apple mares began to double over in laughter, Twilight could only fidget, mentally berating herself for even setting hoof on their farm today. Once she opened her fool mouth, their laughter would fade to silence, and then, anger.
This would be the last moment Granny Smith ever entertained the idea of adopting her.
Once they began to settle down, Granny Smith turned to Twilight again. “So, Twilight, why ya lookin’ fer him? Do Ah hear weddin’ bells?”
“No,” Twilight said, though she blushed. "I… I… kind of upset him.”
Applejack shot her a sideways glance. “Upset him? How?”
Twilight took a seat on a nearby stool. "Um… It’s kind of… a long story, really.”
Taking the hint, Applejack pulled up a stool beside her. “Uh… alright. Well… why don’t ya start at the beginnin’, then?”
“You remember that, when I came by yesterday, he wouldn’t take the book I brought for him, and he seemed kind of… confused, I guess? And angry? And maybe even… scared?”
Slowly, the two Apple mares met each other’s gaze.
The silence that passed was as foreboding as the grave.
Twilight swallowed.
“An’ Applejack told ya ta leave it alone,” Granny Smith answered, staring straight at Twilight. “But you didn’t, did ya, young 'un?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Yer a smart one,” Granny Smith said, “so, Ah bet ya figured it out.”
Applejack was staring at her.
Twilight simply nodded.
Sinking into her chair, Granny Smith sighed.
Twilight looked at her hooves. “I’m… I’m sorry. I… I don’t mean to pry.” She met the elderly mare’s gaze. “I just want to help him.”
“Don’t ya think we tried ta do that years ago, sugarcube?” The nickname rolled off Applejack’s tongue and sounded more bitter than sweet.
Twilight raised a forehoof. “I… I figured so, but… maybe he’s… stubborn?”
Granny Smith laughed again. It was a hollow sound, devoid of mirth. “There’s more ta it than stubbornness, dearie.”
“I don’t mean to pry,” Twilight insisted.
Granny Smith sat up as straight as her back would allow. “Well, since ya already know somethin’ that only the ponies in this room know, might as well tell ya the whole story. Maybe then you’ll understand why he didn’t take so kindly ta you tryin’ ta help him.”
Crestfallen, guilt surging in her chest, Twilight raised both forehooves. “I’m really sor—”
Granny Smith clicked her tongue. “Ain’t nothin’ o’ it, Twilight.” Her expression softened the slightest bit. “Ah know ya mean well. But now that the cat’s outta the bag, might as well pull him out, instead o’ jus’ lettin’ his tail flail ‘round…”
Twilight thought better of replying and simply nodded again.
Applejack and Granny Smith, all four of their eyes locked on her, let the heavy silence pass through again. When it escaped out the window, the elderly mare cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and began.
~
”... An’ after the Great Thaw, the two alicorn princesses lived happily ever after. The end.”
Granny Smith closed the storybook and looked down at her two grandfoals, both of whom had been listening to the story with wide eyes and pricked ears. Little Macintosh, seven, and little Applejack, four, each clung to their favorite toys as they listened to their favorite grandmother read their favorite book. Both of their favorite toys happened to be plush, stuffed apples, but there were stranger things.
“Again! Again!” Applejack exclaimed, clapping her forehooves together.
“No, young 'un,” Granny Smith said with a laugh, rustling the filly’s mane, “it’s gettin’ late. It’s time fer bed.”
“Ah always love that story,” Macintosh said, hugging his stuffed apple tight. “Except fer the prince. He’s a meanie-face.”
“Nopony likes that prince,” Granny Smith agreed. “Except crazy folk. Heh, heh.”
Applejack rolled on her back and batted at one of her grandmother’s long, white braids. “But Graaaaanny! Ah’m not tired!”
Granny Smith rustled her mane again, making her giggle. “Don’t matter! Gotta be up bright an’ early tomorrow mornin’ so you can help yer Momma an’ Papa with the apple trees! Won’t that be fun?”
The filly clapped her forehooves again, giggling in pure, unbridled joy. “Yeah! Momma an’ Papa an’ twees!”
Macintosh giggled into his forehoof. His little sister never failed to make him laugh. As a big brother, he was responsible for her, as well as the foal still growing in his mother’s tummy. He would be a big brother twice over soon.
Macintosh loved storytime. Whether it was with his Granny Smith, his Momma, or his Papa, he loved to hear a good story. There were stories about brave Royal Guards and brave alicorn princesses. There were stories about fire-breathing dragons and three-headed hydras. There were stories about little colts too, little colts like him, and little fillies like Applejack. And he loved each story. He didn’t know how to read yet, but he knew he would be able to soon.
For now, though, his Granny Smith climbed off the bed he shared with his little sister in the farmhouse. His Granny Smith smiled down at them, like she always did—a warm, comforting smile that would always make him happy, no matter what happened that day. She smiled at them, and kissed their foreheads—which was a little gross, yet still nice—and tucked them into bed.
“Goodnight, Applejack, Macintosh,” Granny said after pulling the blankets up to their chins.
Applejack yawned and stretched under the blankets. “Goodnight, Granny.”
Macintosh fought his yawn, but it won. “Goodnight, Granny.”
His Granny Smith gave them that smile again, then blew out the lamp on the nightstand. She trotted out of his room, her hoofsteps making him sleepy.
He soon fell asleep.
Macintosh loved storytime.
Macintosh never wanted storytime to end.
But it did.
~
The barn was his sanctuary.
The great red-and-white doors swung forth with little resistance, granting him access to their sacred depths. Bales of hay surrounded him, pews unoccupied, as he made his way to the true centerpiece of his refuge.
The ladder.
Big Macintosh didn’t quite remember when he had started coming here. Maybe it was after Pa died. Maybe it was before. Maybe it was in between.
Pa had died before that day in the barn, in a way that only Big Macintosh understood. In a way he was cursed to understand then, so young and so smart and so foalish.
The church of hay and wagon parts and rusted farm tools was silent, bowing to its sole occupant. The ladder squeaked a little as he climbed, but it held his weight.
Once his forehooves met the floorboards of the hayloft, Big Macintosh pulled himself up. It was easy, like many things, but also not.
Here, only more hay greeted him. More empty pews in his sanctuary. Big Macintosh took up as many as he wanted as he bowed to the God of his silence, and prayed with the things he could never tell a living soul.
At first, Big Macintosh remembered, he had cried a lot when he came up here. First, it was when school started becoming… well, hard. It was hard back then to focus on fancy mathematics and confusing phonetics when none of it was important, when none of it mattered in the slightest.
It was hard to focus then when there were greater things, worse things, all around him. And when the greatest of things were gone.
As Big Macintosh stretched out on the hay, he thought of Twilight’s words, the book.
The book may as well have been written in Old Equestrian cursive for all he knew. All he knew was that Twilight knew.
Nopony knew. Caramel didn’t know. Carrot Top didn’t know. Apple Bloom didn’t even know… yet. It was easy now to brush off her requests for homework help, to pretend to read the cards she made him for his birthday and Hearth’s Warming, to act like everything was normal.
Soon enough, she would find out. Applejack or Granny Smith would tell her, or she would read between the lines.
And then it would be this pain, this shame, all over again.
But it was for the better.
That’s what he had told himself, long ago, in this hayloft.
It was for the better.
~
”Granny?”
Little Macintosh knocked on the door to his Granny Smith’s room.
She didn’t answer.
He pressed his ear against the door.
He could hear her crying.
It had been six days now. Almost a week.
Little Macintosh didn’t really understand. He did, but he didn’t.
One moment, Momma and Papa had gone to the hospital to have his little brother or sister. He and Applejack were there. They were in the waiting room.
The next thing he knew, the stallion in the white lab coat came out of the room Momma was in, and took Papa into another room to talk.
After that, Papa was screaming, screaming real loud, louder than when Cousin Braeburn had brought that rattlesnake with him from Appleloosa. Louder than when the timberwolf had invaded the apple orchards. He had screamed real loud.
And he had cried a lot, too.
Momma didn’t come out of that room.
There had been a funeral. Everypony had been crying. Even Granny Smith and Applejack.
But not Macintosh. He had to be strong for the family, because Papa was crying too. Colts and stallions weren’t supposed to cry.
There was a part of the funeral where anypony could say words if they wanted. The priest, Mister Waddle, asked everypony that, and a few ponies spoke. They talked about Momma. They called her Sunshine.
Macintosh wanted to say something, but he didn’t. It was better to be quiet.
That had been a few weeks ago. Papa got very sad after the funeral. Very, very sad.
Then, one day, Applejack found him in the barn. He had gone to be with Momma.
His Granny Smith wouldn’t tell him what happened, just that he had gone to be with Momma, wherever that was.
If there was a wherever that was.
Now, here he was, knocking on the door to his Granny Smith’s room.
She wouldn’t answer, or come out.
It had been six days now.
His new little sister, Apple Bloom, was crying. Applejack was… somewhere. He didn’t know. They were all hungry.
But his Granny Smith wouldn’t come out.
So, after a few minutes, Macintosh knew what he had to do.
He went into the kitchen and pulled a pitcher of milk from the icebox. He grabbed one of Apple Bloom’s bottles and filled it with the milk. The cows were nice for giving them their milk for her.
Macintosh carried the bottle over to his baby sister’s crib in her room. He carried the bottle in his mouth. He didn’t know Earth pony magic yet, so he couldn’t use his forehooves to hold things very well. It was hard.
“Don’t cry, Apple Bloom,” he said around the bottle, speaking slow. “Ah’m here.”
The little foal just cried, because she was hungry.
Being as gentle as he could, Macintosh leaned down and guided the bottle into her mouth. The foal stopped crying and began to drink.
For a few moments, it was quiet, and that was good. Macintosh looked down at his baby sister and smiled.
“Ah love you, Apple Bloom.”
He meant it. He would do anything for her, and Applejack too.
~
“... Ah was… How’d the doctor put it? Near-catatonic, that was it.” Granny Smith coughed. “Losin’ ma daughter-in-law, an’ then ma son, in such a short span o’ time? Shoot, Ah couldn’t handle it. Ah jus’ couldn’t.”
Applejack tugged the brim of her Stetson low. Avoiding Twilight’s eyes, she looked at the floorboards.
Twilight didn’t need to see her eyes to know she was crying. She was crying, too.
She wanted to hug her, but didn’t feel she had the right to. Not yet.
“Ah jus’ shut down. Ah couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Ah jus’ cried. Think o’ the worst pain ya ever felt, mental or physical, put ‘em together, multiply by a hundred. That’s what Ah felt.” Granny Smith cleared her throat for the sixth time. “Ma world was shattered. Everythin’ Ah ever knew, or thought, or hoped, gone. All ‘cause o’ one accident, an’ one…”
Granny Smith paused, then bit her lips. “One who took the easy way out. Ma son. Ma son abandoned his foals. An’... An’, fer a while there, Ah couldn’t take care o’ ‘em, neither.”
Silence, as heavy and final as two gravestones.
Twilight wiped at her eyes. So did Applejack.
Granny Smith had no more tears left.
“So, ya see,” Granny Smith continued, “Ah think what happened was… Macintosh, bein’ the oldest, he… He thought it was on him. His responsibility. An’, horseapples, ta be honest… if it weren’t for him… Ah dunno how things woulda went.
“It started first with simple things, Ah think. Ah don’t really know. All Ah saw fer a while was ma bedroom wall facin’ the window. Well, it was ma son’s bedroom. But ya know what Ah mean… Anyway… It started with Macintosh makin’ meals. Feedin’ Apple Bloom. Doin’ the wash. Stuff like that.
“Then… He jus’ stopped goin’ ta school. This was towards the end o’ ma, er, state. He stopped goin’ ta school, an’ started doin’ all the farm chores. Buckin’ apples. Pullin’ weeds. Feedin’ the pigs, the chickens. Fixin’ things best his li’l hooves could, which weren’t much, since his magic hadn’t been tapped yet. Ah know all this ‘cause he would tell me through the door… He thought Ah wasn’t listenin’, but Ah was…
“When Ah came outta it… Ah tried ta make him go ta school. Tried ma best. Took him there? He’d come back home. Whooped him fer it? He’d still do it. Say things like, ‘Ah gotta help ya, Granny, Ah’m supposed ta take care o’ everypony now that Pa’s gone,’ or somethin’ like that. An’ that jus’... got ta me, Ah guess. His teachers tried, too, an’ the principal. But nopony could keep that colt in school.
“After a year… Ah guess Ah was so worn down still, both by him an’ everythin’, that Ah jus’ gave up. Ah said, ‘Ya don’t wanna go ta school, Macintosh? Fine! Ya don’t have ta!’ An’ that was that…”
Granny Smith looked away. “Biggest mistake o’ ma life, right there.”
When the silence entered again, and Granny Smith said no more, only then did Twilight trot over to hug Applejack.
And Applejack hugged her back, just as tight.
~
Sometimes, when Big Macintosh prayed to the God of his silence, he heard the voice of his father.
”You take good care o’ yer sisters, okay, son? Ya promise me that?”
Big Macintosh had promised.
He was a stallion of his word.
Applejack, now a few years a mare, was far more successful than he would ever be. Smart, strong, dependable, and an Element of Harmony at that. Big Macintosh had helped raise a filly who eventually freed Luna from the moon and put Discord back in his stone prison.
Pa would have been proud.
”Ah love you, Macintosh. Make me proud, son.”
Big Macintosh closed his eyes. “Ah’ll always make ya proud, Pa.”
A single, shameful tear flowed down his cheek.
The God of his silence didn’t judge him.
He laid there in the hayloft for seconds, minutes, hours. Eternities. Big Macintosh thought of everything and nothing.
Sometimes, he would think about Applejack and Apple Bloom. Sometimes, he would think about Ma and Pa. How beautiful and kind Ma had been, and how strong and honest Pa had been. He loved to think about his family.
Sometimes, he would think back to storytime, and the book about the alicorn princesses. He really liked that one. It was a story of true love. It said that true love was putting others before oneself.
Big Macintosh was lonely sometimes, but he knew true love.
~
Twilight picked up her saddlebags beside the door, then gave Applejack one last hug. She hugged Granny Smith, too.
“Jus’ one time, child,” Granny Smith whispered in her ear. “Jus’ one last time, an’ after that, Ah want ya ta leave him alone ‘bout it. Ya understand?”
Twilight nodded.
The two Apple mares waved goodbye to her. Twilight waved back.
Twilight trotted out the door, onto the porch. Towards the barn. Applejack said he would be there.
When she reached the great red-and-white doors, Twilight debated on knocking.
Knowing the door would never open, Twilight chose to enter anyway.
“Big Macintosh?”
Silence.
And then, from the hayloft, a deep baritone.
“Up here.”
Twilight looked to the ladder, then to the hayloft. She wasn’t much for climbing, but she would do anything for a friend.
One step became two, then three, then four. Five, six, seven. Twilight reached the top and pulled herself up.
Big Macintosh, his cheeks matted with tears, his green eyes speckled with red, flopped onto his belly and looked up at her.
“Howdy, Miss Twilight.”
Silence.
“Hello, Big Macintosh.”
Silence again.
Cautiously, Twilight trotted towards him, then sat down on her haunches when she was a few feet away.
“Applejack and Granny Smith told me about what happened. When you… when you were little.”
Big Macintosh wiped at his eyes with an unshorn fetlock.
“Ah figured.”
Twilight bit her lip.
“I’m sorry.”
Big Macintosh feigned a laugh.
“Don’t be. Ain’t yer fault.”
Twilight sighed.
“I know.”
Silence again.
Twilight set the saddlebags down and opened them with her magic.
Twilight set the book down beside him.
“The book is about adult ponies learning how to read.”
Big Macintosh nodded.
“I… I want you to think about it.”
“But Miss—”
“Please, let me finish.”
Big Macintosh nodded.
“I know you feel ashamed for this. I can understand that. But it’s not too late to learn. It never is.”
Twilight smiled.
“You were brave for doing what you did, Big Macintosh. And… I know you feel responsible for it, for everything that happened. That’s what foals feel when… when that kind of thing happens. You were brave for being so mature and taking care of things. You had to grow up too fast.
“And that’s not fair.”
Big Macintosh bit his lip.
Twilight nudged the book.
“I can’t give you your colthood back, but I can teach you how to read, if you want. You don’t have to read anything you don’t want to. I can teach you how to read the signs at the market and the newspaper. I can teach you how to read blueprints and Apple Bloom’s homework. I can teach you how to read books about woodworking or Daring Do or whatever you want. But I will only do that if you really want to.
“Okay?”
Silence.
Big Macintosh’s keen green eyes met hers.
“Okay, Miss Twilight.”
Twilight smiled one last time.
She wanted to give him a hug, but didn’t feel she had the right to.
He was greater than her, in many ways she would never understand.
“You can come by the library anytime.”
“Thank you, Miss Twilight.”
“I… I’m going to go now.”
“Okay, Miss Twilight. Walk home safe.”
“I will. Good… Goodnight, Big Macintosh.”
“Goodnight, Miss Twilight.”
How he climbed up and down that ladder so many times, year after year, was beyond her understanding.
Twilight left the barn and Sweet Apple Acres, trotting through the dusk beneath the shining stars in the sky.
She hated being right.
~
”Ah love you, Macintosh. Make me proud, son.”
~
“Spike, where’s that copy of A Complete History Of Griffonia? I’m almost finished with it.”
“Right here!” Spike called out, picking up the heavy tome.
“Ah, great!” Twilight called from the kitchen, making some tea. “Can you leave it with the other books I need to read?”
Spike looking up at the towering stack beside the golden statue in the library. “Uh… sure.”
While he went to get a stepstool, a knock came at the door.
Twilight turned the heat off the stovetop. “I’ll get it!”
With a spring in her step, she headed over to the door. It had been a few weeks since she had made her deliveries to the town’s farmponies, and she was happy to see that most of them had enjoyed the books she had brought for them. Another happy patron waited beyond her oak.
Twilight opened the door with her magic. “Good after—”
Big Macintosh stood on the welcome mat.
“—Oh.” Twilight mustered a weak smile. “H-hi, Big Macintosh.”
“Howdy, Miss Twilight. May Ah come in?”
Big Macintosh had a pair of saddlebags over his back.
“Of course.”
Twilight stepped aside for him to enter, then closed the door behind him. “How are you doing?”
“Jus’ fine.”
Big Macintosh set his saddlebags down and opened them. He removed the book.
“Oh…” Twilight suppressed the urge to frown. She took the book back from him with her magic. “Thank you, Big Macintosh. I’ll reshelve it right now.”
Twilight started to levitate the book back to its place.
“Wait.”
Big Macintosh held up a forehoof.
Twilight froze and looked at him.
Big Macintosh cleared his throat.
“Ah… Ah would… r-really appreciate it, if… If you could…
“Teach me how ta read.”
Twilight’s smile blossomed to a full grin as she levitated the book back to her side.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
