Unlikely Hero

The next couple of days were somewhat of a blur for Tim as most of his time was spent sleeping or taking medication, occasionally interrupting that routine from time to time by staring out into empty space or trying to get to the bathroom. The first time he made that attempt to get out of the bed to get down the hall was a bit trying for him, but luckily the slightly frail looking old woman was quite a bit stronger than she looked. She had brought him his pills late one morning along with a simple yet delicious bowl of homemade chicken soup when Tim had asked her where he could find a restroom. He had managed to sit himself up on the edge of the bed under his own efforts, but when he tried to stand, it was just a little more than he could bear. With his eyes closed and his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him, he grunted in pain and took a few deep breaths. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see the old woman hands extended to him. He looked up to Granny Smith with a brow raised.

“C’mon now, youngan, Don’ look at me thatta way… This ol’ bird is a little tougher than she looks.” She said to him with a slight smirk, offering her hands a bit closer to him. Tim shook his head slightly but still raised his hands and placed them in hers. Counting to three so as to coordinate her pulling him up with him trying to get on his feet, the white-haired woman pulled Tim off the bed, onto his feet and caught him in a hug-type of hold as he winced and his knees slightly buckled. Shuffling his feet and getting back on balance, Tim looked down at the old woman holding him up. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said to her as she repositioned herself to his side and under his left arm. She soflty chuckled at him.

“Now see? I told ya I had ya, boy… Now let’s git ya on down the hall. But once I git ya to tha bathroom door, yer on ya own!” She laughed a bit harder, her warm and infectious tone causing Tim to do the same, resulting in a sharp pain shooting through his chest. He limped along with the woman down the hall, done his business and then went back into the hall- Granny Smith patiently waiting for him. Only taking a hand this time, Tim let her lead him back to the bed where he sat down, just a little bit winded. He smiled to her again as she offered him his soup and his pills which he quickly took. Popping the pills in his mouth, he spooned some of the soup up and brought it to his lips and paused, taking in the aroma of chicken, vegetables and pepper. Putting the spoon in his mouth, he discovered the taste was even better than the smell. He let out a deep, approving “Mmmm” as he swallowed it down.

The old woman smiled and left the room, allowing Tim to eat what was the first meal he had had in days. Unable to finish the whole bowl, it placed it down on the nightstand and continued to sit on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor. He noticed the flannel pajama pants he was wearing, they were some old and worn things, but they fit him good and kept him nice and warm. He assumed they belonged to the big man known as Macintosh and made a mental note to thank him. Feeling his eyes get heavy again, he eased his legs back onto the bed and laid himself down, slowly drifting back to sleep.

Things continued in that matter with just a few changes in the routine. Mainly it was the grandmother or the youngest daughter bringing him food, drink and his medication, and they would talk to him for just a moment or two, mostly just asking him if he was feeling any better and if there was anything he could bring him. He would simply say he was ok or had been worse, letting them know they were doing more than enough for him and that he was extremely grateful. On a few evenings, Big Mac had come to check on him after he had completed his work around the farm. Unlike the first conversation they had had, they shared very few words other than the regular “How ya doin?” or “I’ll see ya later on.” The one person who hadn’t come and talked to him was the tall blonde, but Tim had seen her a few times passing his door and taking a quick look inside.

One evening Tim had woken up and was simply staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, but he had the feeling that he wasn’t alone. He just barely turned his head to the door and seen the flannel and jeans clad woman leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed under her breasts and her Stetson low on her head watching him lost in her own thoughts as well. Making eye contact with her, Tim slid up in the bed and sat against the headboard, slightly nodding to her with just the hint of a smile on his face. Her only response was to nod back and continue looking to him, seeming to study him. She didn’t stay long after that, turning and walking back down the hall. Tim could only wonder what she was thinking but didn’t dwell on it long. He was starting to feel like getting out of the small room as his pain was dulling and becoming more bearable. His clothes had been washed and hung on the knob of the closet door and waiting for him. “Just another day or so,” he told himself as he turned to the window and watched the evening sky fade into night, “One more day, I gotta get up and moving and figure out why I’m needed here.” He clicked off the lamp next to the bed and laid back down to get his much needed rest.

The sound of footsteps going down the hall stirred Tim from his sleep. Looking toward the lone window in his room, he noticed that there was a slight tinge of color spreading across the sky as the sun was about to rise. Feeling better than he had the day before, he pushed himself out of the bed and slid of the pajama pants and began putting on his own jeans and green denim shirt, forgoing the thermals and coveralls he had been wearing when he first entered the house. Wincing, he bent down to pull on his boots and then rose too his feet. Being somewhat familiar with farm work due to his own experience from years ago, he knew the family was about to start their day. He might not be able to do a whole lot in his condition, but he knew he had to do something to get up and moving to work the stiffness out of his body if he wanted to get back to feeling like his old self. Holding his side, his stood up from the bed and made his way out of the room, down the hall and down the stairs to the main floor.

He knew nothing of the layout of the house, but his nose told him which direction he needed to be heading. The scent of fresh biscuits, sausage and eggs greeted him as he made his way to the ground floor. The great room was dimly lit, but, turning toward the heavenly scent, he saw the lights of the kitchen and heard the faint mumble of conversation and the clattering of utensils and dishes. He made his way to the doorway of the kitchen and stood, not wanting to just barge in on the family. Granny Smith had just turned from the old gas stove with a fresh plate of scrambled eggs as she saw Tim standing at the edge of the room. Her eyes slightly widened and a smile crossed her face. With her free hand, she waved Tim into the room.

“It’s about time ya got yerself up an’ movin! Grab ya a plate and have a seat! There’s more than enough ta go ‘round!” The old woman stepped close to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him to the table, more specifically a chair next to the elusive blonde across from Big Mac. He eased himself down into the chair, one hand on his side and the other on the wooden chairs tall back. The woman to his right shifted in her seat a little, not looking up from her meal as the big man slid an empty plate toward Tim.

“Good ta see ya in the land of the livin’” Big Mac said as he passed the cloth-lined bowl of biscuits toward the newcomer. “How ya feelin’ this mornin’?”

“Well,” Tim began as he started fixing himself a small plate of eggs and sausage, still not having his full appetite back, “I feel good enough that I think I need to start whippin’ myself back into shape. I need to get back to my boat and see if anything I own is worth saving. Need to talk to Twilight, too. And the least I could do is put in a bit of work around here in thanks for all yall have done for me. Yall don’t even know me but you’ve been so kind taking care of me like ya have… I owe your whole family dearly for that.” He looked to group sitting around the table. The three that sat around him smiled at his words, nodding at his comment.

“Eyuup… Sounds good to me,” the big man started, “the season ain’t quite in full swing, but we can find some work fer ya to help out with.” He turned up the remainder of the coffee in his mug and stood from the table. “Finish up here and Granny can tell ya where ta find me. I’ll see ya in a bit.” Big Mac nodded to Tim and walked out the back door of the kitchen, not before resting a hand on his grandmother’s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze as he passed. Shortly after, the blonde stood up and put her dishes in the sink.

“Well, Tim, while yer out there busy with Big Mac, be sure ta take it easy. Ya just getting up and about, don’t push yaself too hard, ya hear? I got ta make a run into town later on to make a delivery an Ah plan on checkin’ on Twi… Ah’ll tell her ya wantin’ ta talk.” She looked to Tim and made a half-smile to him as she tipped the brim of her hat down to him. She too walked toward the door but stopped at the old woman at the end of the table. She bent down, hugged the woman gently and kissed her on the cheek before turning and following her brother out the back door.

Granny Smith turned her attention back to the man at the table with her and pointed toward his plate with her coffee cup. “Ya best get ta eatin,.. Yer gonna need yer strength if ya plannin’ on keepin’ up with Big Mac and Applejack out in tha fields… Them is some of the hardest workin’ folks in all of Ponyville, if not all of Equestria!” Tim took one last bite of his breakfast as he nodded to his companion.

“Yes, ma’am…” he said as he slowly stood, collected his dishes and followed Applejack’s lead of putting them in the sink. “Again, I thank you for all of your hospitality. I hope to be able to repay yall for all you’ve done.” He walked to the door as the woman waved his words off. “Think nuthin’ of it, child,… It’s what we Apples do, takin’ care of those who need it most. Now, I need ta be getting Lil’ Bloom up and ready fer school. Yall be findin Mac out in the barn straight out across the yard as ya go out the back door.” She sipped her coffee and looked to Tim again. “But, like my granddaughter said, don’ be overdoin’ it out there or ya gonna be stuck back in that there bed again!”

Tim chuckled at the woman as he held his side again. “Yes, Ms. Smith, I’ll be sure to not get myself laid up again.” He nodded to her and made his way out the door, heading to the big red barn behind the old farmhouse.

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After a short while in the barn with Big Mac, Tim learned just how far he didn’t need to push himself in his current state. While toting the bushels of apples from the carts to the sorting table and carrying bags of feed for the horses proved to be just a tad too much for him to handle with his busted ribs, he discovered he could at least tend to the chickens by giving them new scratch, collecting the eggs, cleaning the coop and replacing the dirtied bedding straw with new. With that job out of the way, he was put to the duty of checking all the bushel baskets and repairing the ones that had broken wires or slats. It was while going through the seeming endless amount of baskets that time got away from him and he got lost in thought. He recollected the condition his boat was in when awoke on the deck and carried Twilight across the broken and splintered floor. He wondered how much of what little he had on the boat was salvageable and started to make a mental check-list of things he wanted to look for. His hands continued working the baskets as if on autopilot, twisting wire with the pliers Big Macintosh had given him and replacing the thin pieces of wood as needed. He never heard the footsteps coming up from behind him as he worked.

“Ya seem to be getting’ along nicely with them baskets, Tim.” The southern drawl of the honey-sweet voice broke his train of thought and he turned to look up from the basket in his hands to the tall blonde standing next to him. He placed the basket down and laid the pliers down inside it as he stood to speak to the woman.

“Hi there, Applejack, I didn’t hear ya come in… it is Applejack, right? I don’t think we’ve really met yet.” He extended his hand to the woman who took it into her own and shook it strongly. Raising a brow, he shook back with equal force, smiling at the woman’s strength. “That’s quite a grip ya got there, Miss. I wanna thank you again for helpin me out like you have, it’s reminded me that there are some good folks still left out in the world.” Breaking their handshake, Applejack smiled at Tim and rubbed the back of her head with her right hand as she dismissively waived her left at him.

“Shucks, think nothin’ of it. Besides, yer the one who who should be thanked, gettin’ Twi here like ya did. Whatever spells she used to get ya here took a helluva toll on her, she was goin through a bit a’ magic exhaustion. Speakin of her, Ah just got back from her place in town. Said we can come ‘n talk with her tomorrow and she sends her thanks and says she’s glad to hear ya doin’ better.” She motioned over her shoulder with her thumb and tilted her head back, indicating towards the outside. “The horse ‘n wagon’s still hitched up outside,… Ya wanting to ride on over to Whitetail Woods and see about gettin’ yer things? Looks like ya got plenty of them baskets fixed to last us a while, ya can call that job done fer now.” Looking at the stacks and stacks of mended baskets behind him, Tim nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan to me, just let me straighten up in here right quick and I’ll meet ya outside.” Applejack looked around at the bits of wire and wood that lay about before stooping down to pick up the basket that still held the pliers. “Hows about Ah help ya with that?” She said with a small smile on her lips. Tim grinned back as they set to cleaning up the barn.

A bumpy wagon ride and a short walk down a small dirt path later, the pair found themselves standing in the center of Whitetail Woods. Ahead of them, only a dozen or so feet away from the water, was the nearly destroyed boat that Tim once called his home. Applejack let out a long, low whistle as she stared at the crumpled mass of metal and wood before her. All Tim could do was shake his head and run his hand through his hair as he got a good, long look at the damage. With little hope of much of anything being of any use, he decided to get the process of sorting through the debris over with.

“Well,” he stated as he step forward and onto the rock he used to exit his boat a few days prior, “this shouldn’t take too long, don’t look like there’s gonna be much left.” Stepping onto the wood that used to be the deck of his boat, he heard it groan and creak in protest. Cautiously, he made a few steps closer to the cabin of the boat, trying his best to avoid the obvious bad places of the floor. He knelt down and looked under the caved-in roof of the cabin and frowned. He could see a lot of his belongings were destroyed- his now broken fishing rods and gear were strewn about the floor, all of his maps and books were in the floor soaked in water that had poured from the busted water jugs he had stored, the fire extinguisher had the valve broken of which resulted in it discharging its contents and mixing with said water, turning the whole floor into a pasty, pale-yellow mess. To top it off, his rifle was wedged between the crumpled down roof and the crushed remains of the boats console; its stock a mass of splinters and its barrel severely bowed. He crawled through the mess and made it to the back of the cabin where there was a storage compartment in the floor. He forced the warped cover open and looked inside.

His pack that contained the majority of his clothing was still there as well as his camping gear and the lot of it appeared to be unharmed. He pulled the pack from the opening and tossed it out the opening that was once the cabin’s door, almost hitting Applejack who had made her way onto the boat. She cut her emerald green eyes at him briefly before noticing the mess between them.

“Damn, Tim… Ya ever hear of cleanin’ up before ya let comp’ny come over?” She joked, trying to make light of the situation. She removed her hat and peered inside the room, scanning the room to see if there was anything she could point out that Tim might need. Something shiny had caught her eye under a stack of books and papers that had slid under the bench seat along one of the walls. Reaching into the mess, she grabbed the handle to the polished silver and wood contraption that was stuck into a type of sheath on a faded leather belt. She noticed the belt had a series of little leather loops on it; most of them housing some strange copper and brass things that resembled small, capped-off tubes. She was now back to standing outside the smashed cabin, her rear resting on what remained of one of the boats railings, looking at what she had found when her studying was interrupted by the grunting of Tim who was now coming back out onto the deck. He slowly stood, gritting his teeth and holding his side in pain with his eyes closed. Applejack watched as he took a step or two forward and leaned against the railing next to her.

“I think I got the most of my clothes, and my tent and all seems to be ok; I drug it out behind me. I almost found everything I was lookin for except-“ His eyes fell on what was in Applejack’s hands. “That. Where’d ya find my pistol at?” Tim asked her as she continued to turn the item over in her hands before she looked up at him with a questioning expression on her face. Tim stared back at her, tilting his head slightly. “What? Have ya never seen a revolver before?”

Applejack simply shook her head and handed the thing to Tim, still looking at the strange device. “Naw, can’t say that Ah’ve ever seen or hear of one a them before. What’s it for?” Tim had already began un-holstering the large, silver .44 magnum revolver and checking its cylinder to make sure it was still loaded. Finding that all the chambers were still loaded, he closed the cylinder back and slid it inside the holster before putting the gun belt inside the pack containing his clothes. If a woman who was as old as Applejack appeared to be had never seen or heard of a gun before, especially her living on a farm and near the woods, he assumed it was probably something he had no business showing about.

“Well, it’s kind of a tool we use back where I come from… It’s nothing special. But, anyway, I think I got all I need from here, I’ll talk with Big Mac about what we need to do about gettin the rest of the junk took care of.” Tim said as he motioned his hand to the wreckage that once was his boat. He put the large pack of clothes over his shoulder, slightly wincing at the pain in doing so as Applejack reached down and grabbed the large, rolled up canvas tent and slung it over her shoulder as well grabbing the other pack that contained some random camping equipment. Tim smirked at the display of the blonde woman putting her strength to use again and eyed the woman again, somewhat impressed by her. This time his gaze was discovered, and noticing the look Tim was giving her, Applejack simply winked at him and motioned towards the dirt path from which they came.

“C’mon, sugarcube, let’s get this stuff back on the wagon and get headed back to the house. Daylight’s burnin’ and by the look ya had when ya picked that pack up, Ah’m thinkin ya might need ta be takin a little break.” She carefully made her way across the broken and uneven deck then down the rock and onto the pebble beach. Stopping, she turned to see Tim still standing on the boat looking at her. She laughed a bit before whistling at the man, causing him to sort of snap-back to reality. Tim shook his head and made his way off the boat as well, making his way toward the path and back to the wagon.

“Yeah,” he began, adjusting his pack as he marched on up the path just ahead of Applejack, “I am feeling a bit wore-out,… another pill and a sit-down seems about due.” The pair made it back to the wagon and slid Tim’s belongings into the back, Tim watching the woman as she loaded the packs and climbed up on the front of the wagon and took the reins in her hands. He climbed up on the wagon and took a seat beside her on the hard wooden seat and looked around at his surroundings, taking in the sight of the light filtering down through the treetops and feeling the light breeze on his face. Tim turned to Applejack as she snapped the reins and got the horse to moving at a slow and steady walk. He continued to watch her as she began to look around as well before turning to him and catching him gazing at her.

“Ya a’right over there?” she asked, smiling at him, not breaking eye contact with Tim. The look in her eyes, the softness of her smile and the soothing drawl of her voice made Tim feel warm inside, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. He smiled back at Applejack, a faint dampness in the corners of his eyes. He then turned his gaze away from her, staring out amongst the trees that slowly passed them by.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he began, turning his head up and looking toward the sky, noticing the few stray clouds dotting the blue above. “You just remind me of someone from long ago, is all.” He felt a delicate hand land on his shoulder, giving a light series of pats followed by a soft squeeze before the hand slipped away. The two continued their journey back to the farmhouse in silence, both parties lost in their own thoughts.