The Farm Girl and the Drake

Applejack had a long time to worry—all through the long, dreary winter months. And although Spike’s words worried her, she couldn’t believe her parents would ever be unkind.

“Buttercup, there isn’t any way we can tell for sure what it’s going to be, is there?” asked Bright Mac.

He was hoping it would be a boy while Pear Butter was already picking out names if it were to be a girl.

“I’m afraid not,” she replied. “Nobody ever knows for certain. All we can do is hope.”

Then, came the whacky cravings.

One night, at three in the morning, Applejack awoke to the sound of her father, still in his pajamas, putting on his boots and winter coat. He opened the front door and was greeted by the howling wind of the January snowstorm.

He quickly slammed the door shut and called up the stairs, “Buttercup! Are you sure you want watermelon?”

“Mm-hmm,” Pear Butter replied. “Oh, and some chop suey too!”

“Chop sue... Oh,” he sighed, “all right, Buttercup.”

And he marched out and into the storm.

A few days later, the farm was buzzing with activity. People came and went, bringing presents.

Applejack remained upstairs, not wanting to disturb the guests, but she could hear the conversations clear as day.

In the parlor, the women were constantly fawning over her mother.

“What darling little booties!” one woman said.

“And that bonnet,” said a second.

“Isn’t it just too adorable?” asked a third.

“Pear Butter, I’ve never seen you more beautiful,” said the fourth.

“Isn’t she radiant?” asked the fifth.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the men were laughing and having fun at her father’s expense.

“Aw, Bright Mac, you look terrible!”

“Absolutely horrible!” confirmed a second.

“I never saw you look worse!” added a third.

“Cheer up, Bright Mac. Old Doc Time Turner hasn’t lost a father yet!”

At last, one rainy and windy night in April, the baby came.

Applejack sat in the waiting room at the hospital with her brother, like he and Granny Smith had all those years ago. It was all they could do: sit and wait.

And she was scared. Scared and nervous.

She had been listening to her parents talk back and forth for months, saying that everything would be all right. She knew they were excited.

But Applejack was afraid. She was afraid that when the new baby came, all her hopes and dreams and happiness would be smothered, crushed, even buried.

She felt like the light in her life would go out on her.

She could do nothing but watch as they wheeled her mother to the delivery room. Just like her brother had.

“She’s strong and healthy,” Nurse Redheart had told them. “She’ll be perfectly fine. I promise.”

Now there was a stranger in her parents’ room, and Applejack and Big Macintosh weren’t allowed inside.

Finally, Bright Mac burst through the doors to the maternity wing and ran for the telephone. He dialed Granny Smith to tell her the news.

“That’s right, Mom, it’s a girl. Uh-huh, a girl. Red hair. And... What’s that? Eyes? What color are they? Oh, gosh. I can’t believe I-I forgot to look!”

Bright Mac dropped the phone and started running up and down the halls, cheering in euphoria. He bumped into the doctor, who was exhausted after going through the delivery.

“A girl. It’s a girl, it’s a... Doc, it’s a girl!” Bright Mac shouted excitedly.

“Yes... I know,” the doctor responded wearily.

“A girl. Oh boy, oh boy! Another girl! It’s a girl, it’s a girl, it’s a girl!”

“Hello? Hello, son?” came Granny Smith’s voice over the phone. “Are you there, son? Central, we’ve been cut off. Hello? Hello? Hello!”

Remembering he had let the phone drop, Bright Mac composed himself, picked it up, and said, “You’ve got another granddaughter.”

He hung the phone up and turned to face his children.

“Come on, you two,” he said. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

They followed their father into the maternity ward and he led them to a door at the end of the hall.

He opened the door and ushered them inside.

At first, all Applejack could see was a strange wrapped-up shape in her mother’s arms. But there was a smile on Pear Butter’s lips, and a softness in her eyes. And when she spoke, she spoke softly and often sang sweet songs.

“There, now. Little Apple Bloom,” she said. “Dream on.”

When Applejack saw her new baby sister, she couldn’t help but think how wrong Spike had been. For not only did she still have her parents’ love, she now had one more person to cherish and protect.

“She’s not awful,” AJ thought happily. “She’s not awful at all. In fact, she’s kinda cute. Perhaps we’ll be friends.”