OpeningView OnlineHome is Where the Heart IsOpeningIt was a late night at Sweet Apple Acres. The air was slightly misty and cool, hanging on to the last moments before a long, mildly hot summer. The first of two apple harvests had come in, and the apples were glistening with dew in the barn. Applejack and Big Macintosh lifted the last of the barrels up into a pile, carefully setting it down on top of another two in a neat tower. Applejack wiped the sweat off her forehead and let off a relieved sigh. “Whew!” she said. “That’s the last of ‘em, I think.” “Eeyup,” Big Macintosh said, nodding in confirmation as he wiped his own forehead. “So now we’ll have to sort through ‘em by type,” Applejack said. “Shouldn’t take too long; I think they’re already almost done ‘cept for a few barrels on top.” Big Macintosh climbed up and looked into two of the barrels. One had green apples and another had red apples, and another had gold apples. “Nope.” “You mean we got to go through all of them?” “Eeyup.” “Oh, ponyfeathers!” Applejack slammed a hoof on the floor. “I thought I had all of them straightened out.” “Nope.” Big Macintosh came over and put a hoof around Applejack’s shoulder. “We’ll start it tomorrow. It won’t take that long. Few days, at most” Applejack smiled at her brother. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s head inside and tell Granny we’ve finished.” Applejack walked inside the house and into their living room. Granny Smith had been dozing on her favorite rocking chair with the sounds of country music from the nearby radio floating through the room. Apple Bloom was on the floor reading a book. “Apple Bloom!” Applejack called. “Isn’t it time for you to go to bed?” Apple Bloom got up with a start. “Oh, come on!” she complained. “Sweetie Belle’s goes to bed at least an hour after I do!” “That’s because Rarity doesn’t pay attention to time as much. Come on,” Applejack said, giving Apple Bloom a nudge. “It’s late and we have to get up early tomorrow. You’ve got school in the mornin’.” Applejack walked up the stairs behind Apple Bloom and watched as the little filly jumped into her bed. Applejack covered her little sister up with the blankets and cracked a window open. “Y’all comfortable?” “Uh-huh,” Apple Bloom said. “But… one more thing.” Applejack looked at Apple Bloom curiously. “What is it, little sis?” “Can you tell me a story?” Applejack smiled. “Well, sure, if I can remember one. What do you want to hear about?” “How come Braeburn went to Appleoosa?” “Gosh,” Applejack said. “I was… I think I was too young really.” “Well, what do ya remember about it?” Applejack went over to the bed and sat down. “Well, I know he was a little older than Big Macintosh, almost the age I am now. He was a fiery colt, always gettin’ himself into all sorts of situations.” Applejack smiled and gave her little sister a noogie. “Kinda like you sometimes.” Apple Bloom giggled and flailed, trying to escape Applejack’s hoof. “Hey! You kinda do that too!” Applejack chuckled. “I suppose I do, lately. Well, back to the story.” “A few years after he got his cutie mark helpin’ Granny on the orchard,” Applejack continued, “Braeburn was a fine young stallion, and thought it was time he headed out on his own. I was there to see him off when he got on the train to see the world. I didn’t have my cutie mark yet, and I didn’t know what was goin’ on.” “A few weeks later,” Applejack said, “I headed on to Manehattan to live with my Aunt and Uncle Orange. You were just a little baby, then, and not the grown-up little filly you are now. I tried livin’ life as a fancy pony, but I never did fit in with them. I came back and ended up gettin’ my cutie mark because I knew I belonged on the farm.” “But how did Braeburn get to Appleoosa?” Apple Bloom said through a yawn, eyes drooping but not closed. Applejack continued. “Well, the next I heard was that Braeburn had been sendin’ us postcards from Las Pegasus, up to Vanhoover, all the way across to Manehatten, then down to Baltimare before headin’ over to Dodge Junction. He worked for a few years in Dodge Junction establishing an apple farm there before headin’ off with a group of settlers to go and found Appleoosa. He’s been there for the past six years now workin’ his own apple orchard.” By now, Apple Bloom had her eyes closed, but she yawned again and managed to speak once more. “I wish he’d visit us more than just the reunions.” And then she drifted off and started snoring. Applejack looked at her sister with a sad smile. She quietly got up and walked over to the door, turning off the light and closing it slightly. “So do I, little sis,” she whispered. As Applejack headed downstairs, she thought about her cousin. Sure, he’d been to the last Apple Family Reunion almost three years ago, but what then? It seemed like at least a few times a year, some member of their extended family would come down and visit with them for a week. Or, once or twice a year they would go and visit them during the off-season. It seemed like every year, no matter what happened, every single one of them would manage to see every other one of them. Except Braeburn. Sure, Braeburn had been a “go-getter”, as Granny Smith once described him. All of the Apples had pretty much settled down in already established communities, while Braeburn had volunteered to go off into the wilds of the San Palomino Desert just to establish an Apple Farm in a dusty old community. He even had become one of the higher ponies of the land, helping in diplomatic relations with the buffalo. He even looked like he was quite pleased with himself when Applejack had gone down there with Twilight and the others to deliver Bloomberg. His first instinct was to immediately run his mouth off to Applejack to describe every single thing that he’d seen and heard since then and to show off the finest of the town he’d helped established. She wondered if he still had that mouth of his. It seemed like he never shut up at home, but maybe a few years of work had settled him down a little. By the time Applejack had gotten down to the living room, Big Macintosh was filling in Granny Smith on the results of the harvest. “Almost twice the barrels from last year!?” the old mare was saying. “Hm… well, the cider season’s gonna be nice. But… I almost think we’ll need to hire an extra hoof. It won’t be easy gettin’ all those barrels of apples sold or made into cider.” “Nope,” Big Macintosh agreed. “It’ll likely take us a few days just to sort the barrels.” “Well, that’s even longer than it normally takes us,” Applejack said. “We can sometimes get them done in one day, maybe two.” “Do you know anyone who might be willin’ to help us?” Granny Smith asked. “I still have the zap apple harvest to worry about comin’ up.” “I’m sure I could ask Twilight to help us,” Applejack said. “I mean, I don’t want to interfere with her duties as a princess, but I’m sure she’d be willin’. If not, I’m sure Caramel or that Time Turner fellow would be willing to lend a hoof for a couple more bits’ pay.” “I’d rather not ask those two,” Granny Smith said. “We Apples are a mostly self-sufficient bunch. That said, I don’t want the extra harvest to rot if we can’t do it.” Applejack and Big Macintosh nodded. A few minutes later, Big Macintosh was in a back room doing some calculations, Granny Smith had once again dozed off in her chair, and Applejack was cleaning the kitchen and finishing the dishes from that night’s dinner. The warm suds felt good under her hoof, cleaning the dirt and dust away as she gently scrubbed each dish with a single hoof. Applejack finished the dishes and was cleaning off the table when a knock came at the door. She looked out the door and saw the full moon clearly over the hills. “Now, who could be knockin’ at such a late hour?” she asked herself. Applejack walked over to the living room. The knock came again, startling Granny Smith out of her sleep. “Eh, what? Applejack, what’s goin’ on?” “Someone’s knockin’ at the door, Granny. I’ll see who it is.” Granny Smith managed to muster enough energy to lift her head and look around at the door as Applejack approached it. With a sigh, Applejack opened the door and looked out into the night. “Hey there!” Applejack, who had been getting tired herself, was now wide awake. “…Braeburn!?” “Hey there, Applejack!” Braeburn said. “Thought I’d come by and pay the family a visit!” Granny Smith almost fell backwards out of her chair. “…what?”
Twelve Years PassedView OnlineHome is Where the Heart IsTwelve Years PassedFour ponies were seated in the Apple family living room. Granny Smith, now wide awake, had rearranged her spot in the chair and was looking almost disbelievingly at Braeburn, on the couch between Applejack and Big Macintosh. “It’s not like you to just come on down on a social visit,” Applejack was telling Braeburn. “I think the last time you came down from Appleoosa was for the reunion about three years ago. But other than that, it’s been twelve years and you missed the Summer Sun Festival that one year.” “Well,” Braeburn responded, “things have been pretty busy at the farm in Appleoosa. There’s so many more things to do to take care of the land when you’re in a desert climate.” “I’d imagine so,” Applejack said, “but don’t you get some sort of off-season?” “Every other of our families everywhere else manages to find some time during the year to visit us,” Big Macintosh added. “Or, sometimes, we visit them.” “You’ve sent postcards, but otherwise have been out for over twelve years,” Applejack said. “I’m sorry,” Braeburn said. “I really meant to not be such a stranger, but I’ve just been so consumed in my work and helping out around Appleoosa.” “So do you have a little time now?” “A little?” Braeburn asked incredulously. “Season’s gone good enough I figured I could stay for two weeks!” “Two weeks!?” Granny Smith was suddenly shouting. She got up off her chair and advanced towards Braeburn. “I’ve gone for twelve years without hearing a word from you! You even managed to sneak off from the last reunion before I so much got five minutes with you!” “Now, Granny, farming in the desert’s kind of a hassle,” Braeburn said. “I am sorry. I wished I could write more, but there was just so little time.” “Ooh…” Granny Smith fumed. “You’re lucky your ma and pa died only a few years back, ‘cause I’m inclined to raise them from their grave to chew you out for what you done did!” “Granny!” Applejack said hurriedly. “While I want to hear exactly what happened, you should keep it down so you don’t wake Apple Bloom!” “Where is she?” Braeburn asked excitedly. “I wanna see my little cousin all grown up!” “Sleepin’ for school tomorrow,” Applejack said sternly. “You’ll have enough time for talkin’ to her then.” “What happened back then, Brae?” Big Macintosh asked. “Well, I had a spat,” Braeburn admitted. “Ma and pa thought I’d take over the family farm. I was the oldest and the only colt. But, then, I decided I wanted to see the world. I traveled all over Equestria; the only place I hadn’t been to was the Crystal Empire. I traveled for about a year before heading down to Dodge Junction and starting a farm there. I hired a couple of other ponies and a fellow Apple Family member, and headed off on an expedition to found Appleoosa, where I started the farm I work at now. My time lately has been split between Appleoosa and Dodge Junction, where I looked on the other farm to see how it did.” “I don’t care that you left,” Granny Smith said. “I care that you did without tellin’ us a thing! Not a word… one day, you said you were headin’ off without warnin’, and we only just met you at the station to see you off.” “Granny, you have to understand. Ma and pa were mad at me and wanted me out of that house. And while I was an Apple and deserved to run the farm, I just figured that place wasn’t mine. I had to go and start my own homestead and apple farm.” “But twelve years… without a single notice! And suddenly, you come waltzin’ in here like nothin’ happened! Well, a bit happened in twelve years! What happened when your ma and pa died?” “I had a memorial for them, and the townsponies allowed me a week of solitude.” “So why didn’t you come down in that week!?” “As good as Appleoosa’s been to me, I often barely scrape by. I didn’t have enough money for a train ticket.” “Well, you should’ve sent a letter,” Applejack said before Granny Smith could continue. “We could have paid your way.” “Eeyup,” Big Macintosh said. “I didn’t want to make it a big deal,” Braeburn said. “I… I didn’t want y’all to go out of your way.” A few soft hooftfalls came from upstairs, but nopony noticed. Granny Smith settled herself down in her chair again. “So, how long are you down here for?” Applejack asked. “I figured I could be down for two weeks before I needed to come back,” Braeburn said. “I’ve got things covered on the farm; Sheriff Silverstar’s lookin’ out for it while I’m gone.” “Well, you’re just in time to help us sort barrels!” Applejack said. “We have a little extra this year and were talkin’ about needin’ an extra hoof!” “Well, I don’t mind a workin’ vacation,” Braeburn said, eyes wide and a big smile on his face. “I haven’t come down here for a while, so if workin’s what it takes to spend time with y’all, I’d be happy to help out!” “Alright,” Granny Smith muttered as a yellow head peaked out around the corner. “Might as well make yourself useful while you’re down.” It was only after the living room had been silent for a few moments when Big Macintosh coughed. “Apple Bloom,” he said. “I thought you were supposed to be in bed.” Apple Bloom poked her full body around the corner. “I’m sorry, Big Mac. I just heard y’all talking and shoutin’ out here and wanted to see what was goin’ on.” Braeburn looked at Apple Bloom and smiled. “Apple Bloom! Good to see you!” And he opened his hooves wide to accept a hug from the filly rushing at him. “How’s my favorite little cousin’ doin’?” “Still ain’t got my cutie mark yet,” Apple Bloom said. “Don’t worry, it’ll take you time. I was a late bloomer myself.” Braeburn ruffled the filly’s mane. “Hey!” Apple Bloom said with a laugh. “I heard you were stayin’ for a few weeks!” “Sure am!” Braeburn said. “I’ll be sure to catch up with y’all while I’m here.” “Apple Bloom!” Applejack said. “How long have you been up and out of bed?” “Since I heard Braeburn at the door,” Apple Bloom said. “I’m stayin’ for a while,” Braeburn said. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow. I heard you have school in the mornin’.” “Well, I do,” the filly said. “But I heard you and wanted to see you and say ‘hi’.” Braeburn laughed. “Well, you’ve had some time to say ‘hi’. But now it’s time for you to go to sleep. I should myself, it bein’ a long journey from Appleoosa.” “Braeburn’s right,” Applejack said. “We all just need to go to sleep. I think we’ve got a spare room for ya, cousin.” “That would be wonderful. I didn’t bring much; just my hat, my vest, and a trusty acoustic guitar that pa gave me.” “You play guitar?” Apple Bloom said as Braeburn got up off the couch and headed up the stairs with Applejack, Big Macintosh, and the filly. “That’s awesome! Maybe you could teach me!” “From what I’ve heard in Granny’s letters, you sound like you’ve gotten yourself into a bunch of stuff already,” Braeburn said. “But I could show you a song or two that I know.” The four ponies headed into Apple Bloom’s bedroom. Braeburn watched as Apple Bloom got in and gently pulled the covers up before nuzzling her forehead. “We’ll have time to talk tomorrow. For now, time for bed.” “Alright,” Apple Bloom said, sounding disheartened and making a fake pout, but soon she was smiling and gently settling herself in. Within a few short seconds, she was already half asleep. “Our guest room is right down the hall. Where’s your guitar?” “Oh, I might have left it on the porch,” Braeburn said. “Lemme go get it.” “I can do it,” Applejack said. “Big Macintosh; show Braeburn the guest bedroom.” “Eeyup,” Big Macintosh responded. Braeburn followed him down the hall, running his mouth off at him. Applejack walked downstairs. She opened the door and found the case. She opened it up to find a slightly-worn but well-kept and well-polished acoustic guitar, looking like it was made from wood cut straight from the tree and recently restrung. It was a fine piece of equipment; Applejack placed it on her back and walked inside the house. Applejack was about to head up the stairs when she heard a slight sniffling from the living room. Granny Smith was still in her chair, head drooped and eyes closed. Applejack walked over and tapped her gently on the shoulder. “Granny Smith?” she asked gently. “Are you alright?” Granny Smith opened her eyes, and Applejack saw that they were watery and shimmering. “Twelve years since I last saw his face…” she said. “Went away from us without a word.” “What happened back then, Granny?” Applejack said. “Why’d he do it?” “Oh, who knows?” Granny Smith said. “He always was a go-getter. Probably thought he’d better go and get. I can’t say I’m not proud of him, startin’ up and managin’ two farms like he does. And Dodge Junction’s always been profitable from the yearly reports.” “Then why were ya mad at him?” “He hardly sent word of how he was doin’. With few exceptions, it’s like he dropped off the map. I’m glad to see he’s okay, but I was afraid of him after a while. And, with his parents gone, we’re the closest livin’ relatives he’s got.” Applejack sighed. Granny Smith grabbed a nearby tissue and blew her nose. “Then again, it’s also unlike him just to come on down for social visits. I’m just thinkin’ the next time he comes down, I might not be around anymore.” “Don’t say that, Granny. You still got a lot of years left in ya.” “Well, let’s hope these old bones think so, too.” Granny Smith got up and started walking to a nearby bedroom on the first floor. “Well, I’ve got to go to bed. You go up and make sure he’s got everythin’ he needs.” “Alright. Good night, Granny.” Applejack grabbed the guitar once more and trotted up the stairs. She went over to the guest bedroom and found Big Macintosh and Braeburn placing down a new sheet on the bed. “I guess there was a stain from the last time Goldie Delicious came over,” Braeburn said. “Macintosh had to get a new sheet.” “Probably dust,” Big Macintosh commented. “Wasn’t much, but probably needed to anyways.” “Alright. Got your guitar here,” Applejack said, handing over the case. “Sweet! I should show you some old folk tunes I learned, both from pa and the folks in Dodge Junction.” “We’ll see. But first, you’ll have to help us with the harvest.” “Hey, so long as it means spendin’ time with you guys” – Braeburn reached out and grabbed both Big Macintosh and Applejack and pulled them close – “I ain’t too worried about workin’ on my vacation.” “That’s good to hear,” Applejack said. “Just make sure you’re up on time.” “Workin’ in the desert for so many years,” Braeburn said, “you begin to appreciate the value of time.” Applejack figured that would be the case – the quicker to get out of the hot sun and into the cooler shade – but the tone in Braeburn’s voice was strange. He released Applejack and her brother and looked out the window for a moment, as though looking back towards Appleoosa. But it was only there for a moment, and soon he was looking back at them with a rather cheerful smile on his face. “So, what time do y’all need me tomorrow?” Braeburn asked. “As soon as the cock crows, we’ll meet for breakfast,” Applejack said. “We got a big harvest this year; we’ll need the strength.” “Sure thing, cousin!” Braeburn said. “Good night, and good to finally get out here for once!”
Ingratiating BehaviorsView OnlineHome is Where the Heart IsIngratiating BehaviorsThe sweet smell of apple fritters woke Applejack up before the rooster crowing did. It was very early in the morning. The sunlight was barely peeking over the horizon, and stars could still be seen in the remainders of the night sky. Still bleary-eyed and recovering from sleep, Applejack rolled out of her bed and fumbled her way down the upstairs hall and down the stairs. Applejack followed the smell to the kitchen, rubbing her eyes as she took in the scene before her. Braeburn, wide awake, was pulling a tray of apple fritters from the oven and placing them on a rack to cool down. Not only that, but it looked like he’d juiced a few oranges to make juice, and polished a few apples until they were bright and shining in the light of the oil lamps. And if that wasn’t enough, a few bowls of oatmeal were also made and sitting on the table. “Braeburn…?” Applejack said through a yawn. “What in tarnation is all of this?” “Breakfast!” Braeburn said excitedly. “I figured I needed to pay y’all back somehow, so I made breakfast! I washed some of the apples for use in the fritters from where you keep the previous harvest’s storage, and made some oatmeal from the remnants of your last package so you’ll have to go into town to buy more. And I found a few oranges in the pantry and went ahead and made some orange juice to drink along with since I didn’t see any milk in the icebox.” “Still runnin’ your mouth as usual, huh?” Applejack asked. “Well, in any case, it’s nice of you to do this, Braeburn. But… Celestia ain’t even raised the sun yet.” “I’m used to gettin’ up this early,” Braeburn said. “Had to if ya wanted to beat the desert heat.” The cock crowed as the rest of the Apples came into the doorway to see what the commotion was. “Good mornin’!” Braeburn said cheerfully. “Now, why don’t y’all sit down? I think the fritters should be cool enough to eat.” Upon seeing the meal, Granny’s eyes widened. “You… you done all this already!?” “Oh, don’t fuss none, Granny,” Braeburn said, pulling out a chair for her at the head of the table. “Just come on over and eat!” Disbelievingly, the others sat down as Braeburn brought around an apple fritter for each of them. They ate slowly at first, but Apple Bloom bit into her fritter and suddenly said “I think you just beat Pinkie Pie.” Suddenly, the table erupted into a swarm of comments, all in agreement that Braeburn was one mighty fine cook. “I won a bakin’ competition at a fair in Dodge Junction for seven consecutive years,” Braeburn said. “It was nice, since winnin’ meant a little extra money as a prize. I think I won with my fritters twice, an apple pie four times, and a special batch of cupcakes made with applesauce once.” Granny Smith sighed. “Just like your ma could,” she reminisced. “I remember her gettin’ her cutie mark one evenin’ when she added a special ingredient to her pie.” “What was that, Granny?” Apple Bloom asked. “I believe she added a little more brown sugar and a little less white sugar. Or maybe it was a hint of Caramel. I don’t know, but whatever it was, it was nice, light, and sweet with a little tart.” “The pie recipe I used was ma’s,” Braeburn said. “I have a little box at home with a bunch of cards, each with a recipe on it.” “For supposedly havin’ a spat with your parents, you seemed to have learned a lot from ‘em,” Applejack said. “They taught me everythin’ before I left,” Braeburn said. “It was simple enough to remember it and write it down. ‘Course, I experimented with them sometimes in the evenings, but the best ways were how she made ‘em.” “That’s sometimes what it boils down to, isn’t it?” Granny Smith commented. “You try to change somethin’, and in the end you’re back where you started.” Braeburn opened his mouth to say something, but he froze as though in the middle of his thought. He stared with a rather happy expression on his face, but it soon dropped and became morose. He then dropped his head and didn’t make eye contact with anyone. “Was it somethin’ I said?” Granny Smith asked. Braeburn said nothing in response. Applejack, now finished with her meal, got up from the table. “Well, best get to work before it gets too hot outside. Come on, Big Mac and Braeburn. We still gotta sort out the apple barrels.” Braeburn seemed relieved at the sound of work and walked jauntily outside and towards the barn with Applejack and Big Macintosh, almost constantly talking. “Man, it feels so good to be back here in Ponyville. I tell you, you have no idea the relief it is being back here in the cooler weather with all of you. I used to take a three hour siesta – that’s a rest period they have in Dodge Junction and transferred over to Appleoosa – until the heat went down and I could work again. But then a couple of townsponies tried my pies and I used to bake them and serve them with a tall glass of cold milk during my downtime on the farm. Made a decent amount of money with ‘em, too.” “Sounds like things are goin’ well for ya out there,” Applejack said. “Yeah. Well, used to. I haven’t been able to sell as many pies since I’ve lost a couple trees and don’t have as many apples.” “Maybe we could set up a pie stall out here,” Big Macintosh said. “Give ya somethin’ to do for two weeks.” “Well, thank ya kindly, Mac,” Braeburn said as they entered the barn. “Really appreciate it. We could whip up a few pies easily. So, how do y’all do this?” “Well, one of us goes on top of the stack and sends a barrel down to Big Mac. Then we go over to the storage bin they belong in and empty it so that Big Mac can go back and get another barrel.” “Easy enough. I could either help transfer the barrels or put them into the storage containers.” “Whichever suits ya,” Applejack said. “Alright. I’ll start with the storage bins. You still do them in alphabetical order?” “Yep.” And so they set off to work. Applejack gently bucked the barrels off the top of the stack so that they landed on Big Macintosh, calling the cultivar of the barrel. Big Macintosh gently carried them over to Braeburn, who heaved the massive barrels up and over the lip of the storage containers with ease and discarded the barrel as Big Macintosh went back over to Applejack. The work was simple but time consuming, though Applejack quickly noticed the change. The three had already cleared a fair amount of barrels by the time Apple Bloom was coming by to say she was going to school. By the time lunch came around, almost half the barrels were placed and sorted correctly. “Alright, then, let’s stop there. Should have stuff to make sandwiches back at the house,” Applejack said. “You feelin’ tired, Braeburn?” “Nope!” Braeburn said. “The weather around here must be rejuvenatin’ me. I’ve felt better than I have in years.” “Well, how about we still take a small break? You woke us up earlier than normal.” “Whoops!” Braeburn exclaimed, a small amount of red on his cheeks. “Sorry about that.” “It’s fine,” Big Macintosh said as they exited the barn and made for the main house. “It’s time for our lunch anyways.” “Can’t say I’d deny a sandwich,” Braeburn said, the red fading back into a normal gold. “Do you often break for long?” “About an hour,” Big Macintosh replied. “You could rest if you wanted.” “You don’t need to go out of your way,” Braeburn said. “Really. I came down here to spend time with you.” “Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to accommodate your schedule at least a little,” the stallion said evenly. “I ain’t used to that restin’ thing,” Applejack said. “I’ll probably go work in the fields and see how our smaller vegetable crops are doin’.” “Check on Granny before you go out,” Big Macintosh said. “What will you do, Big Macintosh?” Braeburn asked. “Finances,” the red stallion replied simply. “Big Macintosh here knows the fancy mathematics required,” Applejack said. “I’d wager he’s the smartest of our whole family, but with how much Apple Bloom is learnin’ at the schoolhouse, she could probably give Mac a run for his money in a few years.” Braeburn laughed. “It’s only fancy ‘cause it’s dealin’ with money. It’s about making sure the numbers are positive instead of negative. I used to do my finances in the evenin’, since it was kinda calmin’ sortin’ the books.” “Not always,” Big Macintosh said. “But I see your point.” Lunch was a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich with sliced apples and a large glass of iced water. When it was finished, Braeburn started heading up to his room and Big Macintosh headed into his office to work. Applejack started to head outside when she remembered Big Macintosh’s request to check on Granny Smith and turned back around. Granny Smith was in her bedroom on the lower floor, lying down though with her head upright and supported on a pillow. She was looking through a book, an old leather-bound thing that Applejack quickly recognized as the family photo album. Applejack knocked on the door a few times. “Granny,” she called. “Are you alright?” “Eh, wha?” Granny said. She looked up from the book and saw Applejack walking over to her. “I’m alright. I was just lookin’ through the old family photo album.” Granny motioned with a hoof over to Applejack. The orange mare stepped closer and looked at the album at a picture Granny pointed at. It looked to be almost fourteen years ago; Applejack was a little filly and hadn’t gotten her cutie mark yet. Big Macintosh already had his cutie mark, and Apple Bloom wasn’t even born quite yet. Standing next to Applejack’s family was another, smaller one. There were two ponies Applejack only faintly recognized, but then Applejack saw Braeburn, looking almost the same as he did now but with his hat on the older stallion’s head. He had two younger sisters; her cousin Apple Fritter was on one side and a face she recognized but couldn’t remember the name of stood on the other. “These were all the Apples livin’ in Ponyville back then?” “Up until twelve years ago,” Granny Smith said. “Braeburn was the first to leave, goin’ on his trek across Ponyville. The rest of his family left a few months after we got word he was in Dodge Junction; shortly after you got your cutie mark. His parents died a few years later, his younger sister moved to family in Las Pegasus, and Apple Fritter recently got married to that one fellow and now lives in a town about two days’ travel from here on the old family farm.” “A lot sure has happened since that photo,” Applejack said. “More than any of us would have imagined back then,” Granny Smith said wisely. “As much to you as it has to Braeburn.” Applejack thought about that. “How come Braeburn was the one that caused the bigger commotion?” she asked. Granny Smith shrugged. “Well, I can’t rightly say for sure. You’ve always been a reasonable sort, while Braeburn had a rough time of it. You’ve done many wonderful things, Applejack, and everypony knows it. It just seems to be takin’ a while for Braeburn to receive the same acknowledgement.” “Are you still mad at him?” “I think there’s always gonna be a part of me that’s mad at him,” Granny said, closing the photo album with a sigh. “I just wish I knew what was runnin’ through that head of his. Like what happened at lunchtime.” “Do you think that it has anythin’ to do with what happened twelve years ago?” “Oh, sure. But… it seems there’s more than just that. Like somethin’ happened recently that he doesn’t want anyone to know about.” Granny Smith yawned. Applejack pulled the photo album out of the old mare’s hooves and set it on her bedside table. Granny settled herself down in the bed and was soon dozing off. Applejack had more questions. But, for now, there was work to do.
