Jack's Lament

Big Mac was fourteen. He was generally happy, and hated one word answers. He felt like he always wanted to speak his mind. Even though he was son to a renowned family of farmers, he was particularly smart, and could work the little technology they were provided with ease.

Anyone who knew him then knows why he is the way he is now.

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It was six o'clock in the afternoon. He had just finished bucking the apples with his mother, when their dad came home drunk. Applejack Finch, or just Finch, for his second born happened to be named Applejack, was a gentle man. He was strong, but kind, and he taught Big Mac right from wrong. Until today, he had never laid hands on a member of his family in violence. Big Mac was sitting in the kitchen with his mother, Candy Apple, when their dad came home firing off cuss words. Candy ran off to her room, while Big Mac stayed downstairs to talk to his father.

"Pa, what's up with all this nonsense?"

"Shuddup boy, I need to talk to your ma."

"No. Ya don't look to good right now, ya need to sit down."

"Don't ya fuckin' tell me what I need!"

He backhanded his son across the face. Big Mac landed on the floor, and Finch was standing over him.

"I'll teach ya to talk back to me, Mac. I oughta kill ya on this here floor."

He grabbed Big Mac by his shirt collar and hit him repeatedly. Blood sprayed everywhere. Then he went upstairs, and found both Candy, and Granny Smith, huddled together.

Big Mac hid in a corner and cried, holding his hands over his ears to block out the screaming and grunting.

Then Finch came down one more time.

"Don't you tell a soul boy, or I'll be back with more than my two hands."

He walked out.

That was the last day Big Mac spoke out to anyone.

I woke up in a trance. It had been a week since I landed in Equestria, and this place was great. I had moved in with Twilight, who got me up to date on Equestrian history, as well as debates over topics, such as the dominance magic has here, while on Earth, we had machines that eliminated the use for magic. I also had a schedule of which of my new friends I helped out with every day. Today was the day I went to Sweet Apple Acres to help. I walked through the orchards looking for Applejack.

"I reckon yer one of mah sister's friends."

I looked in the direction of the voice I just heard, "Is Applejack your sister?"

"Eeyup."

"Then yes, I am." I said.

I got a good look at the man standing in front of me. He was about six feet even, and he was pretty buff. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but he wore dirty blue jeans. He had medium length straw colored hair, and he had a wheat sprig in his mouth. He had a straight expression, not one of joy nor anger. Just a straight face.

I held out my hand. "The name's Jack, I came to help AJ buck some apples."

He shook it, "Big Macintosh, mah sister ain't here right now, but I sure could use a bit of help 'round here." He motioned to the apple trees.

I gulped. There were so many. But I grew a pair and we got to bucking.

-----------------2 Hours Later----------------------

We were halfway done when Big Mac looked off into the distance. He scowled.

"Get behind me, now." He grunted.

The man walked up. He wore a dark brown stetson. He also had on a blue dress shirt, as well as the trademark cowboy sleeveless vest. He had on clean blue jeans, and wore cowboy boots with spurs on the bottom. On his hip he had a pistol holster with a revolver in it, even though I was certain they didn't have those here.

"Howdy, Mac. You've grown a lil'"

"What're you doin' here, ya smelly varmit." Big Mac almost growled.

"Now is that any way to talk to yer daddy, Mac?"

"After what you've done, ya ain't my Pa."

No way. They look nothing alike! I thought. Then I noticed their similarities. They both had straw colored hair, and the new man had Big Mac's same facial structure, but he was noticeably older.

"Ya cain't just disown the man who owns you Mac."

"Like hell ah cain't" Big Mac retorted. "Now, tell me what you're here for, before I kick yer smelly ass off of this here farm!"

"Ah'm here to talk to yer granny."

"You ain't gonna lay a hand on Granny Smith!" Mac shouted.

The man drew his pistol. "This is serious Mac. If you don't let me in that shithole ya call a farm, I'll cave your damned head in!"

Mac growled, "Fine, but hand over that weapon."

The man walked inside.

Shouting was heard, and various other things. After what felt like hours, the man walked out. Big Mac returned his gun to him.

"Mac, you got anything to do tomorrow at noon?" The man asked.

"Nnope."

"Good, cause you better go dig yer grave."

The man walked off.

I took it upon myself to teach Big Mac how to fight properly. He seemed like he would fight like a boxer, so I helped him with my little knowledge of that style. He got it rather quickly.

Noon came. The man, who Big Mac told me was named Applejack Finch, or Finch for short, arrived on time. Big Mac had gauze around both hands, his trademark dirty jeans on, and his wheat sprig.

Finch was wearing the same thing he wore yesterday, "Glad to see you didn't chicken out this time, Mac."

"I ain't gon' pass up a chance to get mah payback from ya."

Finch smiled. He threw his revolver in the dirt, and got into a fighting stance. Big Mac got in a stance of his own. The two men charged one another. They got close in the exact same time, but Big Mac got the first hit off on Finch's chin. Finch stumbled backwards, and Big Mac ran toward his father, jumping in the air for a heel drop, but Finch blocked the blow above his head, and with a quick swipe, knocked Big Mac back a few feet. Mac rolled on the ground, but hopped up, only to be met with a punch to his nose. When Big Mac recovered, his nose was crooked. He simply took his right hand and snapped it back in place. Mac ran at his father, who sidestepped, elbowing his son in the back of the head. Mac just hit the ground.

Finch stood over his son. "Damned shame, you never said I couldn't use my revolver." He went and picked his gun up off of the ground.

Mac stood up again. By now, a crowd of people had developed, shocked that one of the friendliest souls was fist fighting a stranger.

"Big Macintosh, what's the meaning of this?" Applejack was at the front of the crowd, and she look disappointed. "Ya cain't just start fights in the middle of town!"

Big Mac didn't turn around, "Get outta here! This is a lil' more personal that that."

I saw the quick look in Finch's eye. Mac saw it. AJ saw it.

Finch swiped the pistol in his hand as he fired, similar to those guys on that old movie 'Wanted' when they curved the bullets as they fired.

The bullet headed for Big Mac, but made a left to Applejack. Big Mac couldn't get to her in time, so instead he jumped in the way of the gunshot. He grunted as he hit the ground. Finch laughed.

"That was a little dirty," I said, not amused.

I ran at him. We did an instant cross counter. I came back with a spinning back kick to the face. He stumbled back, spitting out blood.

He stood upright, "I'll make a deal with you. Meet me here at 6:00 in the evening. If you win, I'll leave. If I win, I get to take my babies with me."

I nodded. Big Mac got up, shaking Applejack off of him. "Finch! You ain't gonna lay a hand on 'em!"

Finch blasted the rest of his revolver into Big Mac's body. He fell over. Twilight ran over and teleported him to the hospital.

The crowd dispersed. Everyone mumbled in shock.

And I stood alone. Wondering if the bullets hit anything important.