Chapters The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
“I was awakened rudely the next morning but a pony with a salt and pepper streaked mane. She told me to get up and go sleep off my salt licking someplace else”
“This is a respectable town young colt.” She said “We do not condone such behavior here, get up and get out”
“Well if this respectable town had a hotel, I wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor” I said
“Who are you to talk such impertinence?” she demanded
“Tomato, Scarlet A. Tomato” I said
“Tomato, I don’t recall any Tomato in town” she said “Are you new here?”
“Yes, moved here last night” said I “looking to purchase some land and start a farm. Can’t wait to report my gracious welcome to the mayor”
“Hello, I’m Mayor Mare” she said “Welcome to Ponyville”
“Oh” I said, I had really put my hoof in it. Here I was, making snide comments to the some pony I thought was the cleaning pony, and she, in fact, was the mayor. The mayor I would need help from in order to start my farm.
“I am so sorry you could not find suitable accommodations at any of our hotels” she said “Please accept my apologies. You wouldn’t be interested in starting a hotel, instead of a farm? Our town could always use another fine establishment.”
What was she talking about? This town didn’t have any hotels. I responded “No thank you, Mayor, farming is what I do. Please forgive me for my earlier ‘impertinence’.”
“Think nothing of it my young colt” said the mayor “I’ll personally introduce you to our clerk and together we can look over some tracks of land that are available. How much land were you hoping to purchase?”
“As much as I can get” I said
“Let’s cut to the chase” the mayor said “how many bits do you have?”
“Not many” I said modestly “just what I’ve been saving up over the years, plus some extra that my parents gave me to keep from starving and to put a roof over my head”
“Oh so little” said the mayor “I’m afraid this won’t be enough. When the clerk gets here, we’ll see what we can do. Make yourself useful, until then, sweep and mop the floor. I got some work to do in the office”
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
Mopping the floor of the town hall is not my best vocation. Still I did the job with a little bit of flair. It was then that she walked in. Long gray legs with amber eyes, blond mane and a cute smile, she was heavenly, and then I noticed it. She had wings. I am not a racist, but being an earth pony, raised by earth ponies, who had little contact with any pony who wasn’t an earth pony, well, she was a shock to my ideal culture. My sense of all things right with the world was suddenly challenged.
“Hello” she said in a slightly husky voice
“Hello, I’m Tomato, Scarlet Tomato”
“My name is Ditsy Doo” she said “Are you new here?”
“Sort of” I said “Just got into town, hoping to start a farm”
“Really” she said with a smile “I’m a weather mail pony”
“Ah, what does that mean?” I said “Do you mean you deliver mail in any weather? Or do you mean you deliver the weather by mail?”
“Oh you’re funny” she said with a wink. Only now did I notice there is something off about her eyes. I wanted to stare into her eyes for all eternity, but they didn’t seem to want to cooperate with my wishes.
I stammered “I can’t seem to look you in the eyes”
“Oh, that” she said “I got this eye condition, it’s called …”
“Good morning Derpy” said the mayor ignoring me completely “Come into my office and take these letters” Then poking her head out the door again she said “you there, nice job with the floor. Now go outside and sweep the steps”
Outside the town was just starting to wake up. Sweeping the deck and the steps gave me a new perspective on this community. Ponies of all types would walk by, give a friendly smile, and continue on. I got the job done pretty quick, but I kept at it. I didn’t want to seem like some type of loafer, and my vantage point on the deck assisted. Besides, no pony, other than Ditsy, and certainly not the clerk had arrived at town hall. Until a shy little mare with glasses approached the building.
“Good morning” I said
She turned her head away from me and whispered “Good Morning”
As she passed I asked “you wouldn’t be the clerk, would you?”
She mumbled something and dashed into the building. I wisely did not follow. A few moments later, Ditsy emerged.
“Hi” said I
“Hi” she said “The mayor wants to see you. I’m off on my rounds, but before I go, let me offer you a deal. For 25% of your crop, I promise you a light rain every day”
“25%?” I asked “so if I have a bad crop, you only get 25%?”
“Yup” she said “that’s how I work. If you do well, I do well. If you starve, I starve.”
“Sounds good” I said “but first I have to get the land”
“I have faith in you” she said as she flew off. She flew quit well. I kind of like the way she flew. But first things first, time to make my pitch to the mayor and her clerk. That little phrase of Ditsy’s would mean so much to me. It wasn’t the first time some pony had said something like that to me.
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
So here I am with broom in hand, going in to see the mayor and her clerk, about something that would either break me or make me. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I was petrified. I could turn around and run home or show what I was made of ‘in the dark’.
I ventured into the dark.
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Tomato, was it?” said Mayor Mare “But we don’t have any tracks that we could entrust you with for so little”
“I understand that, but let me make you a deal” I said and waited
“A deal?” said Mayor Mare “We don’t make deals at city hall. You should seek out a banker, Mr. Tomato”
“A banker requires a bank, and your town is not only short on hotels, but is also remiss on banks” I responded.
“Please Mr. Tomato” said Mayor Mare “you’ll make few friends with those types of disparaging remarks. Seek a lean in Canterlot”
“I will not” I said. “Here is the deal; for 25% of my crop, you lend me the land, until such time as I can pay for it. If I fail, you get to keep the land.”
“65% and you’ll get weather pony services as an added bonus” said Mayor Mare
“25% and I’ll make my own deals with the weather ponies” said I
“No, Mr. Tomato” said Mayor Mare “it is our city policy to regulate what the weather ponies do. I simply cannot allow any freelance meteorology”
“Freelance! Not allowed in Ponyville! A community with a history of going its own way in defiance of royal decrees” said I. “I did my research, your reelection chances would decrease if the ponies in this town discovered your monarchist tendencies”
“I disagree, Mr. Tomato” said Mayor Mare. “We in Ponyville have been blessed with our own Princess in Twilight Sparkle. The winds of change may be shifting in my favor”
“Having your own Princess is not in your favor, as your services may become redundant” said I
“40% and you make your own deals with the weather ponies” said Mayor Mare
“Show me the land first” said I
“35%” said Mayor Mare “there is this nice track next to Sweet Apple Acres”
I said “30% and show me the land first”
“Please Mr. Tomato” said Mayor Mare in a condelessant tone “Come back when you want to make a serious offer”
“I’m sorry Mr. Tomato” said Mayor Mare “I believe our negotiations have fallen through. Please excuse me; I have other duties to preform”
“Wait” I said “what about this?” I was certainly in the dark now. What had I to lose, except to look more the fool.
“What is this?” said Mayor Mare “a letter?”
“Open it” I said
“I don’t see the point” said Mayor Mare
“Read it” I said
She opened the letter and a small smile crossed her face.
“Read it out loud” I said
She began “To Whom It May Concern, this young colt has demonstrated resolve and determination to put off short term needs in favor of long term goals. He would be an asset to any enterprise or endeavor. Sincerely, Mr. S.K. Yew, CFO, 1st National Bank of Manehatten.”
“So” I said
“So what?” said the mayor “this is nothing more than a souvenir. I will not be intimidated by any Manehatten banker.”
“No Mayor” interrupted the clerk “Look at the seal”
“Ah ha” said the mayor “this is obviously a mistake, the seal isn’t from any bank in Manehatten”
“Yes mayor” interrupted the clerk with a hint of urgency “read the seal”
“This can’t be” said the mayor “this is some type of trick”
“No” interrupted the clerk “I see that seal every day, and I know that signature. This is the real thing.”
“How did you come to have this?” demanded the mayor
“He gave it to me” I stammered, only now becoming aware that the darkness had exploded.
“When? Where?” demanded the mayor
“Manehatten train station, he was getting the express for Canterlot” I said
“Amazing” said the mayor
“Awesome” said the clerk
“That is my middle name” I said
“What?” they said
I said “My name is Scarlet Awesome Tomato”
“Well Mr. Tomato” said the mayor “you are a stallion of many surprises. It is a pleasure to welcome you officially to Ponyville. 30% will be quite enough for the track of land.”
“May I have my letter back?” I asked
“Of course” said the mayor “but may I suggest you don’t show that letter around too much”
“Oh, why?” I asked and looking at the letter for the first time in my life. I could read what it said, but I didn’t understand what the seal said. Some type of ancient script, probably unicorn. What did it say?
“This Mr. Yew, he might be a problem for a lot of ponies in town” said the mayor. “That section of town where all the tents are, well, that belongs to him. He pays their taxes every year, although we never have seen him, and if he wanted to, he could force us to evict them.”
“Oh, so why don’t those tent dwellers buy the land from him?” I asked
“Some have tried” said Mayor Mare “Only no pony has seen him for years”
“I saw him” I said
“Yeah, to see him is very rare” said the clerk “And don’t let that dark green color fool you, he is very black, very black”
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
Success, really, no, now the hard stuff starts. The clerk read the description of the property. I was excited to hear that one edge of the tract bordered a creek and another ran up to the base of the mountains. One edge of the tract ran up against another unclaimed tract. That would serve me later if my farm succeeded. And the final edge, well, that got a bit foggy, and the clerk was obviously showing some distress while discussing it. The line ran from the mountain down to the old tree, and then turned (angle unsaid) to run down to the creek again.
“Who is this neighbor?” I asked
“Sweet Apple Acres” said the clerk
“Tell me about this old tree.” I said and asked “Was it a white oak or a chestnut oak?”
“It doesn’t say” said the clerk “just that it was old”
“Well” I said “I’ll just have to go out there and look”
“Good luck sir”
Finding the creek was easy, just go to the edge of town and follow the stream up stream. I pulled out my compass and took an azimuth. This was not a survey, just a walk about. Butterflies and bees hummed about. The land had a gentle roll up from the creek toward the mountains. Trees bordered the creek, giving way to grasses and tree covered hills. The trees looked wrong for a typical forest. What were they? Fruit trees?
I decided to make a camp along the creek for my stuff (little that it was), filled my canteen and started my trek. I reshot my azimuth and started counting out my pace. Those trees were most definitely fruit trees. The trees stretch across the land from Sweet Apple Acres, across my track, and into the next track. These were not wild apple trees that had grown up from seedlings spread by the winds and animals. This was a functioning orchard. There were baskets here and there among the trees. Some pony most certainly did not know how to read their plot survey.
This would be trouble. Land I would eventually need for my tomato growing was covered in an apple orchard. The grasslands between the creek and the orchard would be enough to start my farm, but if I was successful, this orchard would have to go. Some pony, let’s call them the ‘Sweet Apples’ had put a lot of work into these trees.
I wasn’t stupid, I knew the mayor had set me up with this mess. She needed some pony to bring a test case against the Sweet
I reshot my azimuth, just to test if I was still on track. Yes, I was, hooray for all those wood walks dad took me on as a colt. He had a bit of Tennessee Walker in him. Could walk a straight path through a bramble patch, he could.
So here I was in a bramble patch, a very different type of patch. I could hack my way through the brambles, but that would risk branches swinging back and ripping me. And I bet those Sweet Apples had lots of friends and influential ponies in Ponyville, that could even make a successful farm, less than marginal. I would have to tread carefully.
The slope of the land told me I was at the base of the mountain. The sudden edge of the apple orchard confirmed this, as the trees became oak, maple, hickory, and a few aspen. The ground became rocky and the oaks became the most prominent trees. I made a mental adjustment to my pace, adjusting for the increase in the slope. I wondered if there would be any type of bench mark to suggest the corner of the tract. The height of the trees also decrease, I was getting near the tree line.
Midget conifers replaced the oaks, the ground became increasingly rocky, and I had to measure my steps least I trip and fall. I would be in a world of hurt if I it lost it here. I stopped, suddenly aware I was not alone. I cautiously looked around. I didn’t see any pony or anything else, but I felt that something was there. In a few more paces I would be at the estimated edge of the tract. I looked around.
I looked around some more. I could see down the mountain across the forest and the orchard, down to the creek and beyond it to Ponyville. Nice view. The main part of Sweet Apple Acres was down there too. My magenta eyes took in the barns and bunkhouse, their farm and orchards spreading to the far horizon. I would have relaxed except for the nagging feeling that I wasn’t alone.
Then I saw it. A pile of stones covered in moss and lichen. This was the corner marker for the track. I had estimated its location so closely, that it was closer than I would have thought it to be. The stones were large enough that winter snows would not have moved them. I walked the few steps to them. They had been here a long long time. The view here was even better.
From up here on the mountain side it was real easy to see how the tracts had been marked off. To my right and left, up above the tree line I could see other stone markers. Most importantly, those stones would mark the boundary between Sweet Apple Acres and my tract. Any judge, who would see this, would instantly charge the Sweet Apples with trespassing and incursion. But how would I get a judge to come up here?
The invisible presence didn’t do anything to make itself known. I started toward the stone marker for my other corner, keeping my eyes and ears ever watchful. For all I knew it was a mouse, curious enough to watch me, but scared enough to avoid me. How wrong I was.
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
As I walked toward the corner marker the view decreased slightly, but the view of Sweet Apple Acres became more beautiful. Nice place, them Sweet Apples had. The farm had been there several generations; I could see some of the old foundations, now abandoned, as the owners had replaced buildings for better drainage and placement. The place was big, several trails or dirt roads came together at the center. These Sweet Apples were powerful, they had gobbled up tracks on all sides for their orchards, but for such a large operation, they should have more store houses for their crops. How did they get all their apples to market? For a place of this size, I would expect to see a railroad spur come straight to the farm, but there wasn’t one.
Of course, what do I know about railroads, my grandpa says that it costs the same to run a train down the track once a day as it costs to run it once a year. “Repairs and maintenance” he would say. With only apples for a crop, the farm shouldn’t expect to see a train spur. Yet this farm had some open fields too, surly they planted other crops, like corn, beets, and tomatoes. I could see the corn fields. They were not too big. Probably subsistence corn farming for the dairy cows. They have dairy cows and sheep. This was perplexing. Why so many cows? And why didn’t they have a shepherd grazing the sheep up here on the mountain where nothing more than grass grows? I look at the farm again and estimated the work required a family of about 5 adults with some foals. The foals could do the shepherding. Did the Sweet Apples not have any children?
The view was distracting, I lost my pace count, but I could still see the corner marker stones. They were bigger than the one I had already visited. And as I got closer, I started to get that strange sense of being watched again. Could the stones themselves be watching me? This is Equestria, strange things do happen here.
As I arrived at the stones, I was nearly convinced that the stones were watching me. It then struck me that maybe some type of magic was at play. A magic to make you feel uncomfortable around the stones to suggest or reinforce the idea not to move them.
I drank some water from my canteen and rested in my compliance that magic was always at play everywhere in Equestria. I could see some of the Sweet Apples working outside in the fields and orchards below. A big red was plowing one of the fields. And an orange filly was kicking apple trees. I suppose that is good for the tree as long as it doesn’t damage the bark. The tree would respond by increasing circulation when getting kicked. I didn’t see any others; there was too much work for these two. Where were the others?
I scanned the apple orchard looking for that ‘old tree’. The apple trees looked healthy; this would be a good year for the harvest.
One tree caught my attention. It wasn’t an apple tree. It was something else, not particularly large, just different. It seemed so out of place. And from what I could see there seemed to be some type of structure beneath it.
I had a decision to make; I could go down to the Sweet Apples and disturb their work, or I could visit this strange tree. It looked to be in the right spot for the plot edge. I asked the stones “Is this a good time to visit the Sweet Apples?”
No response, what did I expect. Rocks and stones don’t talk, much, at least not around here, or so it seems. So I answered on their behalf “Nope, better stick with the plan of doing a walk about. No time for distractions”. Their silence encouraged me in my decision.
I used my compass and shot an azimuth from the stones to the ‘tree’. I jotted down a note, and started down off the mountain. I felt comfortable descending the mountain. After all I had the stones to watch my back. The grasses gave way to the scrub pines and mountain laurel, then came the oaks, mostly chestnut oaks; which in turn gave way to the hickory and maple and even some wild grape and dogwood. Finally, I arrived at the orchard. Except here the orchard seemed a little less organized. I would have to be careful least I lose my bearing. I continued walking looking for the building I had seen earlier. When I found it, I didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t on the ground. It was some type of tree house. And the tree that it was in, was the ‘tree’ I had been looking for.
The sun was nearing its zenith, which made it just about noon. Some might call this tree old, since all the trees around it were apple trees, which had either been planted or sprouted up wild. I had expected something a lot older. This tree was respectable, but not what I would call ‘old’. As for classification, now that was the difficult part. It wasn’t a hickory or oak, but it did look like a mix between the two. Not doing much lumber work myself, I was mystified. I could understand why a previous survey might call it the ‘old tree’. But that by no means meant that this was the ‘old tree’.
Now, I had another reason to visit with the Sweet Apples. I bet their name was way off, they were probably sour apples.
The tracks on the ground seemed fresh. I reckon 3 young fillies or colts. The yellow color of the tree house didn’t provide any clues, but the little hearts on the window shutters suggested fillies. All probably in school at the moment, so I made myself at home at the little picnic table under the tree and reviewed my notes. The air had a sweet scent to it, I was relaxing a little too much. I almost took a nap; instead I got up and continued my walk about.
I got to the stream in good time, turned right and quickly got back to my little camp. I set up my tarps, gathered dead wood and stones for a fireplace.
Sitting down in the shade I dozed off to sleep.
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
I awoke late in the afternoon, some skitters were buzzing about my head. Being so close to the stream may not have been a good idea. It was time to start the fire. Using flint and steel, the dry grass and wood soon burned cleanly. I took my cooking pot toward the stream to fill it up.
As I crested the bank I looked down on the most innocent and beautiful of sights. A young yellow filly was bathing herself in the stream. She was also trying to coach her rabbit into the stream. He was having none of this water. She cooed to him so sweetly,
I descended down to the stream in another spot around a bend and got my water. My heart skipped a beat when I realized that I was down stream of my lovely vision, and that the water I was putting in my pot, the water I would cook my dinner with, the water I would consume, was perhaps the same water that had washed over her body.
Oh, boy, did I have it bad. I needed to stay focused on why I was here. I dove beneath the cool stream water to calm my head. It was very refreshing. Upon the bank I shook the water off, picked up my cooking pot and walked back to my camp.
Bringing the water to a boil, I added some salt, and then some of the wayside plants I had found and picked throughout the day.
“Hey mister” said a young voice “that smells good”
The young voice belonged to a young filly or pegasus on a scooter. She looked like she had come down from the apple orchard and was carrying a bag of apples. She had the same colors to her mane and body as my earlier vision. I wondered if they were related.
“Smells good to me too” I said “would you like to join me?”
“Sure thing” she responded, clearly unafraid. She was either very brave or very innocent, or maybe very hungry.
“Hunger is the best spice” I said
“What’s that mister?” she said
“”My name is Scarlet Tomato” I said
“Scootaloo, but I shouldn’t talk to strangers” she said
“Scootaloo what’s my name?” I asked
“Scarlet Tomato” she said
“Well if you know my name and I know yours, how can we be strangers?” I asked
“Good point” she said “Who else do you know around here?”
“I met Mayor Mare and her clerk” I said “and Ditsy Doo”
“Oh, thank Celestia” said Scootaloo “you haven’t meet her yet”
“Her?” I asked
“Yes, her” she said “I can’t say her name. She could pop out anywhere.”
“Is she some type of terrible monster?” I asked
“No, she is really nice” said Scootaloo “but as soon as she finds you, she’ll throw you a party and introduce you to every pony in town”
“And that’s a bad thing?” I asked
“No” she said “but I found you first. And I want this time with my new friend before she does.”
“So I’m your new friend” I said “thank you”
“And this is my welcome you to Ponyville party” she said “mmm, this stew is good”
“This could be a better party, if you shared some apples with me” I said “I could fry them up in my skillet with a little cinnamon and we could eat them for desert.”
“Oh yeah, that would be great”
The aroma from the cooking apples and cinnamon was very strong. Soon other pegasus showed up.
“Hi Ditsy” I said “here to collect your percentage?”
“You bet, thanks for the invitation”
“PERCENTAGE?” exclaimed a blue pegasus “I am the senior weather pony here. I make the deals with the earth ponies”
“These are my apples” said Scootaloo “I’ll share them with whoever I want to. Would you like some Rainbow Dash?”
“Hello” said a dark pegasus “I’m Thunder Hooves, may I join the crowd”
“Of course” said I “Welcome to the party”
“Party?” said several ponies at once.
“Yeah” said Scootaloo “This is the welcome to Ponyville party for Scarlet Tomato, our cook”
“Well bravo” said two more pegasus joining us.
“YEAH” said the big one
This was smashing. Many of the pegasus-es (sic) or pegasi (sic) were showing up. I wonder if I could work out a special deal for the weather services they would provide. I also wondered when or if she; that vision of any ponies dream, aquatic yellow pegasus with the pink hair would show up.
“She probably won’t come” said Rainbow Dash
“What?” I asked
“Yeah, from my cloud, I saw your encounter with Fluttershy” said Dash “You should have introduced yourself then. She is very shy”
‘I couldn’t” I said
“Yeah, I noticed that too” said Dash “you certainly earned the name ‘Scarlet’, just as you seem to be doing now”
“Stop teasing the new stallion” said Thunder Hooves “We guys have got to stick together” and then in a low whisper to me said “I hear she likes mustaches, Fluttershy, that is”
I made a mental note to start growing one immediately. Some other ponies had joined the party.
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
About growing my mustache, I had been toying with the idea of a mustache just to set myself apart from the other Tomatoes long ago. The additional incentive that Thunder Hooves had volunteered simply clicked. The two green leaves above my cutie mark of a scarlet tomato, sort of looked like a mustache. It was my destiny. Or at least I could fool myself into thinking so.
Scootaloo introduced me to her friends the “CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS”; the verbose Sweetie Belle, and the sugary Apple Bloom.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Apple Bloom” I said
“Thank you kindly sir” said Apple Bloom
“So are you part of the Sweet Apple family?” I asked
“I am sir” she said “Cept we are the Apple Family of Sweet Apple Acres”
“Do you grow sweet apples?” I asked
“We grow all types of apples” she answered “you can ask my kin when they get here”
“They are coming here?”
“Yes sir mister” she responded “When we see all these pegasus descending from the sky, we know there is some type of party going on. So now my kin be fixin up some grub to share with you’all. They sent me ahead to check it out.”
“That is very brave of you Apple Bloom” I said
“Sure is worth it” she answered “the way you fixed these apples is great”
“Something new?” I suggested
“Sure is” said Apple Bloom with a smile. “Here they come”
A large wagon approached, pulled by the big red I had seen earlier. In the bench were two others; an elderly green grandmother type and shapely legged filly with a cowboy hat. Only 3 others, perhaps what I had seen earlier, was indeed the entire Sweet Apple, no strike that, the entire Apple family. This farm was too big for them. How in the world did they manage it?
Big Mac’s (as the Apples introduced him) hoof shake was firm, but he was careful not to overdo it. Granny Smith was absolutely charming. I think I would like this family as neighbors. Then I met Applejack.
“I don’t like your hat” she said shaking my hoof vigorously “Reminds me of the Flim Flam brothers”
“What about yours?” I responded “cow skin stretched over a stone?”
“its felt” she snapped back “like I would even think of using leather. What do you think you’re doing here?”
“Camping” I said
“Why here?” she demanded
“This is my tract for my tomato farm” I said “made a deal with the mayor just this morning”
“Tomatoes! You can’t plant tomatoes next to our orchard” said Applejack “too much red. Won’t look right”
“Try some of my cooking” I suggested “Apple Bloom says she likes the way I cook apples”
“Where did you get them apples?” asked Applejack
“A friend shared them with me” I said
“Which friend?” asked Applejack Meaningfully?
“Does it make a difference?” I answered
“Wow, wow, wow” interrupted Rainbow Dash “try the cooking. The fried apples in cinnamon are really great”
“Can’t eat them” said Applejack “I’m allergic to cinnamon”
“Since when?” said Granny Smith
“Since I don’t know where or how he got them apples” answered Applejack
“I gave him the apples” volunteered Scootaloo “they are the ones you gave me earlier”
“You were supposed to save them for latter Scootaloo” said Applejack
“Scootaloo has been very generous” I said “She shared them to welcome me to Ponyville”
“That’s right, this is his welcome to Ponyville party” said Scootaloo
“If this is a party, where’s Pinky Pie?” asked Applejack
“Hi all!” said a pink pony with red hair
“Hi Pinky” exclaimed every pony (except me and Applejack)
“Oh, a staring contest” said Pinky “Is this a party?”
“No, this is not a staring contest” said Applejack
“Seems like a staring contest to me” said Rainbow Dash
“Eeyup” said Big Mac
“Yes, this is a party” said Thunder Hooves
“It is a welcome Scarlet Tomato to Ponyville party” said Scootaloo
“Wait, that’s my job” said Pinky “Who is Scarlet Tomato?”
“I am” I said still faced off with Applejack
“Twilight is coming” said Pinky
“Can’t be, sunset is hours away” I said
“No, Princess Twilight Sparkle” said Applejack with a smirk, keeping her eyes locked with mine.
“Hello, I’m Twilight Sparkle” said the purple blur at the edge of my vision. “Is this a staring contest?”
“Eeyup” said Big Mac
“No, this is not a staring contest” said Applejack
“Seems like a staring contest to me” repeated Rainbow Dash
“It is an epic staring contest” said Pinky
“No, this is my welcome to Ponyville party for Scarlet Tomato” said Scootaloo
“Very well” said Twilight “in my official function as Princess Sparkle, let us begin the welcoming ceremony”
“What are you talking about?” asked Applejack while still maintaining our locked eyes
“Every pony gather around” said Twilight in her most solemn voice. “We are gathered here this day to welcome Scarlet Tomato to Ponyville, who is presently trapped in a staring contest with Applejack. We wish them well regardless of the outcome and may their lives together be filled with bless. Do you Applejack take this colt to be your lawfully wedded staring partner, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, till death do you part?”
“It is NOT a staring contest” responded Applejack
“WE” said Twilight in her most regal voice “shall consider that an affirmation. And do you Scarlet Tomato; take Applejack as your lawfully wedded staring partner, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till the darkness of the evening makes it impossible for you to continue staring?”
“I do” I said, enjoying the red color seep into Applejack’s face. It should be noted that my face was also getting red.
“Then, by my powers as Princess of Friendship” said Twilight “unless some pony can show just cause to object, I hereby pronounce Scarlet Tomato and Applejack, to be eye to eye, colt and mare, husband and wife.”
“STOP” came a shout from the distance. “STOP THIS AT ONCE. THIS IS THE WORST POSSIBLE THING”
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
“STOP THIS AT ONCE. THIS IS THE WORST POSSIBLE THING”
To say I was relieved to have an interruption to something that might be a secret marriage ceremony would be an understatement. Applejack also seemed relieved. Clearly this Princess Twilight had a sense of humor trying to disrupt our staring contest. Her intent to cause myself and Applejack as much embarrassment as possible had succeeded. We were both red as scarlet, no pun intended, well maybe not. Still Applejack and I were stubborn enough that even Twilight’s intervention had not dissuaded us from our glaring contest. However the new disturbance caused by Miss Rarity (I would learn latter) refused us our interlude. She arrived and used her magic to grasp our hats and break our line of vision. My straw hat dropped over my eyes. As I restored my hat to my head, Miss Rarity stood between Applejack and me, berating her for not consulting Miss Rarity on decorations and a wedding dress. The white unicorn actually thought this had been an actual wedding. I started laughing, other ponies were also laughing so I was not alone in this jovial moment. Applejack was trying to correct Miss Rarity’s false impression, but couldn’t, as Miss Rarity was on an endless rant about how she had caught the bouquet at some royal wedding and that this should be her wedding.
I used this moment to look over the princess. She was a fine figure of a mare. The purple, lavender, or violet coat she had was a bit much, still she did present herself as regal, though at the moment she seemed to be enjoying the misunderstanding as much as any pony.
That was the moment when she arrived. My vision of aquatic bliss had come to my party along with some others. Pinky shot us all a look that told us to keep up the illusion, as she went to ‘explain’ the situation to Fluttershy and friends. The expression on Fluttershy’s face said ‘oh my’.
Fluttershy approached me, then tried to slink back. But something compelled her forward to me.
“I’m so sorry for you” she whispered. “I hope you and Applejack can work this out”
“I hope so too” I said “but in truth, I think I in love with some other pony, so maybe this is for the best”
“Oh no” she said “Applejack needs a stallion like you. She is my best friend and I want her to be happy.”
“You hear that Scarlet” said the giggling Rainbow Dash “Fluttershy says Applejack needs you”
“What about my needs?” I said to Fluttershy, ignoring Rainbow Dash’s comment “What about the pony I think I love? Maybe she needs me too”
“Oh no” said Fluttershy “love is such a precious thing, if some pony loves you, you must always return that love no matter how difficult. Don’t chase after a phantom love when you have a love.”
“I disagree” said Pinky “you wouldn’t have fallen for the second, if the first was all you needed. Pick the second and leave the first.”
“I think Scarlet is trying to do that” said the giggling Rainbow Dash. “You could make her so happy, a big strong handsome stallion like you”
“Oh, Rainbow Dash” said Twilight “I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand until now, you’re the second. You and Applejack are so alike. I understand why she would fall for him and he would fall for you.” Twilight gave me a wink.
“Wait what?” said Rainbow Dash
“No, don’t say another word Rainbow Dash” I interrupted least she expose my secret crush. “We share a secret indulgence. We need not ever tell any but ourselves. Applejack need never know.”
“Hey wait a second” said Rainbow Dash
“What do I need never know?” asked Applejack
“My middle name” I said
“Oh Applejack” said Fluttershy “I’m so sorry, you didn’t even know his middle name?”
“No I don’t know his middle name” said Applejack. “What I do know is he is keeping secrets, important secrets”
“What is your middle name?” asked Pinky
“He is allowed to keep secrets” said Twilight “we all do”
“Awesome” I said
“I’m awesome” said Rainbow Dash
“No” I said “Awesome is my middle name, Scarlet Awesome Tomato”
“Oh darling” said Miss Rarity “he’d be perfect for you Dash”
“Hey wait a second” said Rainbow Dash
“Rarity is right” said Applejack “can you imagine Scarlet Rainbow Awesome Dash of Tomato?”
“Oh Applejack” said Fluttershy “You are so brave to give him away”
“What are you talking about Fluttershy?” asked Applejack
That was the moment I lost it. I broke into hysterical laughter. I couldn’t stop. It was indeed past sunset. Time to close up the camp, and wish every pony a safe trip home, as I kept laughing. Let them work out the misunderstandings latter, but not here, not now. But that didn’t happen.
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
“This is a long story, so please forgive me if I stumble at the beginning, not being sure exactly where to start. It started for me, when I moved to Ponyville and purchased land to start my farm. My name is Scarlet A. Tomato, I’m a tan earth stallion with a red mane, magenta eyes, and a bright scarlet tomato for a cutie mark. I wear a straw hat and my right ear is a bit floppy. I grew up the middle brother in a family of five, and while I could have been content to remain on the family farm, some secret inner longing burned within. I wanted a place of my own and I wanted to be known for something more than being just part of the family.
“I chose the community of Ponyville, because it was a day’s journey by train away. Yup, that’s it, no other reason. I didn’t know about all the strange happenings there or the wonderful ponies I would meet. I wanted to minimize the visits by my parents to check up on me, I wanted to be known as some pony other than ‘one of the Tomato brothers’.
“I took the local commuter train to Fillydelphia, there I switched to the express that took me through Baltimare and into Canterlot. At Canterlot I caught the local to Ponyville. Being on a train ride that long is anything but boring. You never know who you might meet and you have to be careful. I arrived in Ponyville just as the sun was setting.
“I got off the train with my bags, and instantly had my first of many moments of regret. What had I done? Ponyville suddenly seemed like the kind of town that all the rejects fell into. There were donkeys here, and what was that? A zebra? I wanted to jump back on the train, but the time table said no trains until tomorrow morning. I was stuck here for the night.
“Okay, so I needed a place to spend the night. A quick survey confirmed that the train station had no adjacent hotel. What a dump. I made my way politely to the town hall. Again no hotel, and part of the town was living in fancy tents. I had traps and rope with me, but it was a bit too dark to try to set up. So back to the town hall, the building was open, but the officies were closed. The mayor’s door had a sign that said “closed for the day”. I unrolled my bedroll and used my bag for a pillow. I didn’t know how tired I was, and was soon asleep.
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
“Yup” I say to you “let me diverge from the plot and tell you about that other time some pony had faith in me. My mom had dragged me and my brothers to Manehatten for some culture, as she called it. We saw some sights, and a musical (I hated it). As a reward for sitting through it, she had offered me and my brothers some ice cream. My brothers took the bribe willingly, but I wanted something more, I wanted a souvenir. I passed on the ice cream for the promise of a souvenir.
“Well the time came for us to leave. We were at the train station and I started to put up a fuss. Where was my souvenir? Mom told me to use the ticket stub as a souvenir. I righteously objected, the ticket stub was a souvenir for the train, not Manehatten. I had willingly sacrificed my opportunity for ice cream in the hope of a codified souvenir. My mom hoof faced and said “Maybe next time, we have to go”
“I was about to scream a protest, when a dignified gentle colt behind us in the ticket line spoke up;
He said “Excuse me Madame, did I hear correctly, that your son postponed his immediate need for ice cream in favor of a souvenir of Manehatten?”
My mother stammered “Yes”. The gentle colt was a dark green or almost black Pegasus. His reading glasses hung low on his nose.
“It is important that a mother keep her promises, I think I can rectify his need” said him. He pulled a sheet of paper from his briefcase, and scribbled something on it, and then the important part. He pulled out some weird type of pliers from his case and squeezed the paper. Following this display, he folded the letter and put it in an envelope and passed it to me. Saying “I have faith in you, use this when you are in the dark”
I could feel the raised paper inside the envelope. My mother stammered “thank you” and having secured our tickets herded us away. I heard the gentle colt ask the ticket booth for an express ticket for Canterlot.
Canterlot! The royal capital of all Equestria! Who was he? I would never know until I open the letter and I didn’t dare. This was my souvenir of Manehatten. I guarded this letter with my life, and my brothers didn’t make that easy. At home, my dad put a stop to all the fuss.
The Narrative of Scarlet Tomato
That was the moment I lost it. I broke into hysterical laughter. I couldn’t stop. It was indeed past sunset. Time to close up the camp, and wish every pony a safe trip home, as I kept laughing. Let them work out the misunderstandings latter, but not here, not now.
But that didn’t happen.
Too many ponies wanted to party. Applejack broke a fiddle out of the wagon and started playing a happy little tune. A dark mane beauty (I would learn later to be Octavia Melody) produced a cello and joined in, producing a delicate and subtle rhythm to Applejack’s music. By their third tune, I was edging my way to my tarp and my secret indulgence; a five string banjo. I am not very good, but the tunes were simple and I felt I could keep up with Applejack. In fact I intended to bury her.
As Applejack finished “Trainwreck”, I joined in with them on “Shady Grove”. Again Applejack and I were in a contest, not a glaring contest, now a music contest. I do say that I was at my very best that night, Applejack and I would exchange the lead, working together some times and trying to outshine the other at other times. However we couldn’t hold a candle to how Octavia ended the music fest.
It was about O’dark thrity, and the party was winding down. It needed to wind down, I had a hard days’ work ahead of me, and I think the Apple family did too. In addition the little ones; Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo, plus some others had crashed in my sleeping area. That was when Octavia hit a low g note, and sustained it. How she did it was beyond my ability. I was amazed how the sound traveled into the ground and up the muscles in my legs up to my ears. Every pony got real quiet. They all felt it too. We all started nodding ‘good night’ to each other, rather than interrupt the mood Octavia was creating. It was a magic moment for me, a point in time that brought all the other recent events into a clear sharp focus. Without that moment I couldn’t relate this story to you now.
But that isn’t the end of my story. This is just the end of the beginning.
