Wind, Leaves, and Apple Trees
“HMMMPH!”
Thud!
“Arggghhhhh!”
The little colt paced around the thick trunk he laid assault to. Anger and hatred towards the aged apple tree flood across his face as a leaf gracefully floated onto his nose, making him squeal a high-pitched sneeze. This only served to make him angrier and more flustered. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the colt sized the tree up and down, looking from top to bottom. It was time to make another attempt on the tree’s hard base. He backed up slowly, holding an unbroken focus on the thick tree as he stepped further and further backwards. Eventually, his body left the cool shadows cast by the tree and into the orange sun, warming his fur and blowing a slight breeze through, an odd equilibrium, of hot and cold he paid no attention to.
His focus maintained, his stature poised, rump in the air and his front hooves forward, the little colt made a rapid dash towards the tree as fast as his hooves could carry him. Barreling straight for it and jumping with gusto he landed right before the tree. Shockwaves hit his front hooves as he sent his rear legs outwards in an attack stance, hitting the tree trunk in a surprisingly well-timed attempt to put all his power behind it.
“HMMMPH!”
Thud!
“Ahhhhh!” He yelled at stoic tree refusing to give up it’s precious, juicy red apples hanging far above the colt’s head. He circled the tree again, trying to find a weakness, a secret to exploit, to knock down the collection of fruit hanging on its branches. There must have been a secret, an easier way of collecting those stupid damned apples.
“Tender Taps!” Apple Bloom was sitting down on the porch of the Apple house, watching the train wreck unfold before her eyes. Her new friend trying desperately to knock but a single apple from the stubborn amalgamation of wood, leaves, and fruit standing before him. “This is getting painful to watch, are you done ruining your hooves yet?”
“I just gotta knock these stupid apples!” Tender Taps called back, looking over to his friend, a very frustrated expression plastered over his face.
“Whyyyyyy!” The whiney, yet playful tone in Apple Bloom’s voice sent Tender Tap’s angry face spinning back around, his body turning with him, receiving a face full of wind in the process.His hair broke shape, flapping around disjointed and out of place. He was clearly not dealing with this situation as well as his friend was, “I have tons of apples inside! I’ll just get some in there!” Her voice carried, she was speaking loudly at this point, nonchalance evident in her tone. Tender Taps, her now official best stallion friend wasn’t smiling or wiping the cold look on his face.
Applebloom hadn’t particularly paid too much note to her voice, in fact, she hadn’t thought she had yelled that loudly at all. Yet, voices travel far among the rolling hills and valleys around Sweet Apple Acres. It had, in fact, travelled all the way down to a soon to be returning Big Mac, amidst the trees collecting the bucket of red fruits that would fill his cart and grant him a bountiful return back to the farmhouse.
He stretched his tired hooves out, the joints and ligaments creaking and cracking as the days work suddenly eased their bearing on his body. He began the partly tiring, partly satisfying ascent to the top of the hill where a filly and colt so happen to be discussing the colt’s fruitless attempts at apple bucking. The trees began to thin as he got nearer to the crest, the sun on his back and the cart increasing its reluctance to continue defying gravity the steeper the hill got. But past Big Mac’s straining, he could just begin to hear the faint argument of a filly and a colt just past the incline.
“Because I need to-” Tender Taps stopped his shout and grunted. Looking all flustered he looked back at Applebloom and started again in a slightly lower but still high-pitched colt voice, “Cause I need to knock these ones!” Tender Taps comic attempt at a lower voice didn’t last long, he sputtered and coughed, swallowing moisture into his now much dryer mouth. “It’ll be super quick, I’ll just..”
He quickly lined up to the tree and made a desperate back kick into the solid tree trunk. Yet just like the last fifteen minutes of constant abuse, the tree withheld from the attack. But he went in for another, and another yelling as the tree continued to stay put.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
Thud…
Puffing and panting, huffing and sweating, Tender Taps turned around and faced the tree, yelling and shouting at the trunk in anger and vain. It wasn’t like him, to get so mad, so uncontained, he thought before he took action, he was sweet and sensitive. It made Apple Bloom uncomfortable seeing her usually calmest friend so…. Angry. The little colt sighed in defeat, holding his head low and pressing it against the trunk in a voiceless surrender.
“Tender Taps! What in Equestria are ya doing?!” Apple Bloom came rushing over to her friend, not really knowing what to expect. To her, it was like a totally different pony had crawled into the colt’s body and taken over. She came over and pushed against him in a vain attempt at a response. “Tender? What’s the matter? Why are you acting so darn crazy all of a sudden? Come on… let’s go inside and… and play a board game or something.”
The downtrodden expression on the colt’s face quickly turned to anger. He turned his head to the side and looked at Apple Bloom. “No!” He shouted, turning to face her, throwing an accusatory hoof at her chest. “I don’t want to go inside! I don’t want to play a board game! I don’t want to bake! I don’t want to do anything! I want to b-be alone,” Tender’s lips quivered, but before anypony could say anything, or his emotions could reveal themselves he took a panicked look around and ran. Away from Applebloom, down the hill and into the thick of the Apple family's orchard.
Shock, that was all that Applebloom felt. Her friend had been just as he always been always, comfortable, kind, and happy. Yet from the second he arrived at the farm half an hour ago she had felt something was different. Now she truly knew, yet she didn’t know how she was going to solve it.
But before she could deal with Tender Taps she felt somepony watching her. Spinning around instant relief flooded her system.
“Big Mac! Did you see that? Tender Taps just took off!”
The stallion stood there, the cart still attached to his collar having only just reached the lip of the hill before seeing the situation at hoof. “Eeyup.” Pulling the cart and collar off and placing them gently on the ground he began to head inside the house, wiping his hooves gently and gracefully on the doormat.
“Big Mac?! What are you doing! I need help with finding Tender Taps!” Apple Bloom raced inside in a panicked scurry. Ploughing through the door she ran into Big Mac’s side, landing with a loud Oof! “Come on Big Mac, what’re you doing?”
Big Mac was halfway through putting on his saddlebags and slinging on a scarf when Apple Bloom had raced into his barrel. Looking down at the now partly winded Filly he gave her an assuring smile.
“Don’ worry, I’ll be back soon, stay put.”
…
It didn’t take long. Big Mac had seen which direction the colt had gone off to, so he steadily but surely followed the general direction. This part of Sweet Apple Acres was hill filled, laced with sharp inclines and rapid descents it would have worn him out quickly, and after two hills and not too much walking he found Tender Taps at the top of one of the tallest hills, head buried in hooves and sitting in the shade of one of many apple trees sprinkled closely over the hill. It was near the perfect temperature, not too hot, yet still, a gentle cool breeze whispering through the shady forest, driven by the expanse of hills and valleys.
The view from the top was stunning, the leaves only partly caught the still bronze rays of the sun giving the look of an elegant, constantly moving splayed mishmash of shapes on the ground, the vast, brightly lit expanse of the farm cut off and lined with a dark, thick entrance into the Everfree Forest. You could see everything, but Big Macintosh highly doubted that the colt had come up to an isolated, quiet hill to admire the view.
Big Mac, much to everypony’s doubt and scepticism, was a highly engaging and interesting conversationalist, he could talk about anything from politics to science and everything in-between. Yet, Big Macintosh only did such a rare and honoured thing such as hard solid communication when somepony either truly needed it or somepony truly deserved it in his eyes. Yet, if there was one thing the stallion in his own right would admit to being particularly fine-tuned at when it came to the ways of verbal interaction, it would be at the delicate act of engaging in one. The very thing that sparks such an event in the first place.
But, sometimes an interaction didn’t need words. Sometimes, in order to truly get a conversation started and for the ultimate engagement of trust and respect to be withheld, Big Mac commanded nothing but the simple act of placing himself, in another ponies life.
And so, with a huff and a light groan from the hours on the farm, Big Macintosh plonked himself a respectable but noticeable distance from the sulking colt.
The little colt looked up for a moment, he had heard a noise, the thump of a body residing next to him, the sigh and release of tension as the body relaxed against the trunk of the very same tree he had picked as an ideal position to escape to. Looking across barely served to clarify the situation he had found himself in. It was Big Mac, Applebloom’s brother, but, Tender Taps couldn’t understand what he was doing. Was this a thing that stallions did? Here was the burliest, stallioniest stallion that ever did lay residence in Ponyville, sitting next to him. Tender Taps… the dancer. This was unheard of, he was small, he was young, he was not anything like Big Mac, yet here he sat, not asserting himself, not even interacting, but just sitting there as if Tender Taps had never been present.
He couldn’t possibly be seen crying his eyes out, or let on something was wrong, that isn’t good enough. He needed to push that aside and figure out why, in every single tree in all of Sweet Apple Acres, Big Mac had chosen to sit under the very same tree he currently resided.
It couldn’t possibly be because of him….
Could it?
The wind rustled, the leaves moved making a soft and elegant symphony of rustling noises, but still, both voices remained silence. Tender Taps just tried to erase all evidence of any emotional outlet. Big Mac couldn’t possibly know, what would he think? What would he do, the colt really had no idea what he was like or what he would do. But he is a stallion and it wouldn’t do any good being a sap. He needed to get over himself and just keep bucking that stupid tree if it killed him. Big Mac’s presence only assured that the apple bucking legend in the flesh had witnessed his failure. Now he needed to make clearer than ever that he was not one to be defeated. Words first, brain second, that’s how Equestria worked according to his own logic, and stick to it he would.
Big Mac could sense the quiet emotion from the second he had sat down. The unspoken hurt or pain. He was good like that, he didn’t need words, or tears or explanation. Body language and silence told a much better story, and this story told Big Mac that he was not going to get anything out of starting the conversation. So, he sat there, seconds turned into minutes but after the initial shock of the colt, he had returned back to his closed state. But finally, his patience paid off and the colt uncoiled himself, revealing a very fake glare and very red eyes.
Tender Taps was growing impatient with the stallion next to him. Sitting next to him and pretending he didn't exist. It was time to say something, to challenge him, that would show him. that would show, well. He didn’t know, it would show him something.
Anything... he didn't care what it showed, as long as it was aggressive and made him leave, Tender was all for it.
“What do you want?” Tender Taps looked away, and down at the grass, and up towards the sky, but never back at Big Mac, he was better than that, he didn’t need to look at the facial expressions or the stern resolve, or that mouth that hadn’t moved since the second he had sat down.
Big Mac kept with his approach, less was most certainly more, to begin with, and the last thing he wanted was the colt to close the door before the conversation had begun. So, he sat there, knowing what to say but waiting for the perfect moment to say it. Twenty-two calculated seconds ticked by before a small leaf flew into Big Mac’s hoof, stopped in it’s reckless, aimless path by the stallion’s tender touch.
“Ah thought Ah’d go fer a walk… Ah could ask ya a similar question.”
Big Mac turned the leaf around in his hooves like it was new and completely unique and different to all the other leaves in Sweet Apple Acres, there was something warm and reassuring about it. Yet, after a while he gently let it go, allowing the wind take ownership once again.
With little of his regular thought and grace, Tender Taps let out a weak attempt at being angry. “Cause I wanna be. I’m angry, and I wanna be alone.” He glared at the relaxed stallion nearby. Tender was propped up now, alert and ready to attack at a moment’s notice. The silence he was returned with was almost more frustrating than the actual silence he was left.
Big Mac didn’t provoke the response with a retort or a scold but merely shuffled in his spot, removing his saddlebags and wrapping his scarf tighter to his neck.
“You’re not really angry, aren’t ’chya…” The casual tone was almost calming, but Tender Taps wanted to resist as much as he could, even if it hurt to do so. He only looked away again glaring at nothing… everything, he didn’t really know nor care.
Big Mac looked down at the little colt, then turned back to the bright orange sunset. Shifting more upright and using the saddlebags to prop behind his back as a makeshift pillow he smiled contentedly at the lack of tree bark biting and pinching his lower back. “Unno, when Mum and Pa died, ah got angry to start with. T’only made it hurt more, I kept getting madder and madder ‘Cause it hurt more and more until... Well, let’s take a step back here, ah was at Sugar Cube Corner droppin’ off apples and I yelled at Mrs. Cake. Not some angry huff either, it was the angriest scream ah had ever done, took her back some too. Ah don’t know why ah did it or what she had said to me, probably nothing, I just wanted to scream. But then, well... I cried.”
Tender Taps looked up, no longer pointed his frustrated snout towards the ground. His eyes was filled with shock, confusion, disbelief. Big Mac, crying, it was incomprehensible, “No way… You? But you’re…”
“Big? Tough? A workhorse? A mare’s stallion?” Big Mac said it like a genuine question, not mocking, nor sarcastic, but curiously. “Well, that don’t matter a bit, anyway, she knew what was up, we were family friends so she took me out back and let me cry it out. Ah was back there with her, crying an’ hugging Mrs. Cake for what must’a been hours.”
Big Mac turned back, looking across to the little colt his back was now turned, his head hung, pure silence hung in the air. “Ah realised ah was never angry… ah was sad, ah was hurt, but I didn’t know how to handle that, so it turned into anger. It’s easy being angry, but it gets ‘arder, an’ it gets painful, it takes guts to cry, and to heal.”
Big Mac took a deep breath, slowly raised his hoof and placed it on Tender Tap’s shoulder. The colt didn’t push it aside or shrug it off. He let it hang there, unmoving, allowing the touch to send waves of emotion through his body. With no warning, he turned around and dived into the older stallion’s hooves, tightly hugging him and letting his own tears stain Big Mac’s coat. The stallion had been ready, quickly hugging back, the colt sitting there. He could hear it now, little Tender Tap’s soft crying. It brought back memories for him, Big Mac knew exactly what to do. His embrace tightened, gently patting his back and letting him cry it out.
“Ya’ don’t have to hide being sad… Tender Taps? if ah remember Applebloom tellin’ me.”
“Taps is okay…” He croaked between sobs.
“Well, Taps. When ya feel better, ah’ll be here to listen.” Big Mac smiled and began the waiting game. He waited for slower breaths, the racking sobs to gently turn to calm breathing and tears to turn to nothing but a stain on his cheeks.
After a while Tender Taps managed to calm down and sit back against the tree, not smiling, not frowning, not scowling, but looking down. Pensive sadness spread amongst his features. It didn’t look fitting for such a bright coat Big Mac thought as the colt finally worked up what he wanted to say.
“I… won my dance category today, by default. There were… no other colts, not only in my age division, but… at all. It made me think, maybe I’m just a… a wimp.” He said it with malice, not to anypony but himself. The sadness came back as he laid down on the grassy hill, overlooking the new gently darkening sky. “I felt like some colt out of place, that doesn’t know how to act like a colt. Or… that there was something wrong with me, what kind of stallion does dancing? What kind of stallion acts… colourful, or like me… I wanna fit in, but I just feel out of place. I thought maybe I was gay or… broken or something. I.. I just don’t know what to do. I wanna be tough, I wanna be like dad...”
Big Mac let him finish. They sat there in silence, but not without activity. Big Mac was a pony to think about every word that made its way out of his mouth, and after every calculated word, he began to speak.
“Do ya really?” Big Mac asked, the question lingering for a while as Tender Taps thought about it.
“I… don’t. Know… I wanna be better, I wanna be normal.”
“Taps, that musta been hard. But ya gotta realise that being a stallion ain’t about any of that. An’ being normal is not what ya probably think it is.”
Tender Taps looked over to Big Mac again his beady eyes holding onto every word.
“Ah know that may sound weird coming from me if anypony. But there is nothing wrong with bein’ a dancer, or bein’ emotional, or in need of help. It’s okay to be sad and upset...
“To be the best stallion y’all can be, Ya’ don’t need to be strong here,” Big Macintosh tapped his left forearm with his right hoof. “What makes the best stallions is being strong here,” tapping his heart with the same hoof he smiled down at the little colt.
“But there ain’t no shame in crying or needing help. Mind the tangent, but ah’ve been workin’ these fields for a long time, and ah’ve noticed something special about apple trees.”
This raised Tender Taps attention, his ears perked up and he sat up, looking up to Big Macintosh in anticipation. “What is it?” He asked in curiosity, his read eyes looking up expectantly as he sniffled and wiped his snout with his hoof.
“When ah buck trees particularly hard, harder than usual. Ah might cause a couple of dents, now, there ain’t nothing interesting ‘bout that. But when ah do, the trees, they have their own version of crying.” Big Macintosh smiled wider at the look of astonishment on the colt’s face.
“No way, are you serious? What do you mean?” Tender asked.
“Ya see, when I buck a tree hard, it thinks it’s getting attacked, by wind or rain or flood. It doesn’t really matter, it lets off a scent. It’s strange, ah couldn’t really describe it, but when it does, trees around it start to drop some of their leaves and apples. Ah’m guessin it’s to put more fuel into digging the roots deeper, making it harder for whatever is damaging the trees to completely rip them out the ground. But what’s more amazing than that, is that trees around the tree ah hit too hard, will weave their own roots around the roots of the tree in distress.”
Tender Taps looking down, not in sadness anymore but out of respect and curiosity for the intricate root system right beneath his hooves.
“Trees look out fer one other, and by doin’ so, they are strong and successful. Without each other, they struggle.”
The wind began to pick up again, this time colder and less forgiving than the breeze settling upon them beforehand. Tender Taps let a quick shiver, not unnoticed by the stallion next to him. Without hesitation Big Mac reached into his saddle bags and pulled out a brightly coloured scarf and draped it over Tender Taps neck, eliciting a smile of thanks from the colt as he wrapped it around his neck tightly and continued to listen intently.
“Now, fer this ‘not stallion enough’ nonsense.” Big Mac began, much to the reddening cheeks of his new friend. “Ya ain’t defined by what colours ya like or how ya dress or what ya like ta do. And if anypony judges ya by those things, they obviously need to wake up an’ smell the apples. From what Applebloom has said about her new friend, he sounds like an amazing dancer, and it don’t matter one bit if he’s a stallion. Ya ain’t less of a stallion, don’t think that for a second.”
Big Mac pointed at his chest, looking straight into his eyes. “If anything it makes you more of a stallion, for sticking to what ya like, whether others do it or not. And it don’t make ya gay either, not that it would matter if ya were. Some of the nicest, friendliest, real stallions ah have ever talked to have taken a liking to other stallions. Ya’ll decide that in yer own time, an’ don’t let nopony tell you fer yourself.”
“I still feel… like I need to grow up or something, you’re so grown up and strong. I feel… weak.” Tender Taps sighed, hugging himself in insecurity, the scarf gently blowing in the breeze.
“Ya shouldn’t, really. I’ll let you in on a little secret about me. Ya good at secrets?”
Tender Taps nodded his head quickly, eager to hear what Big Mac had in store for him.
“Ah... sometimes sleep with this little stuffed pony Princess Sparkle used to own. Ah used to get night terrors somethin’ bad, but when ah had that little thing there with me, ah’d feel so much better and not get them anymore. If ah really wanted to ah could learn to live without it, but ah don’t really need to, it’s special to me. I keep it quiet ‘cause it’s nopony’s business, but if anypony did have a problem with it. Well, that’s just their problem.”
The little colt remained quiet for a while, looking out towards the sunset and feeling the wind hit his fur, the chill getting more and more, but still not enough to warrant much more than a shiver here and there. Big Mac decided to follow suit and laid down on the grass, his rump against the trunk and his hooves sticking out, looking out beyond the final rays of the sunset, the sky behind them quickly turning to night.
“You really weren’t afraid to tell me that, were you.” Tender Taps finally broke the silence, scooting closer and leaning against his new idol in the making, getting warmer in retaliation to the rapidly cooling night.
“Why should ah be? You’ve heard me spout off plenty tonight Taps, but if there is one final thing ah want to say, is that if ya wanna be a real stallion, and not be some fake idea of one, you don’t have to be tough, or emotionless, or cool. You have to own who ya are, be yourself and love every second of it. ‘Cause the best stallion ya’ll can be is already there, you don’t need nothing more. If that means dancin’ ya hardest, or likin’ colts, or likin’ fillies, or havin’ a stuffed toy, or bein’ smart, or being strong. You do it, ‘Cause that’s who ya are.”
Big Macintosh smiled down at Tender Taps, and through red, beady eyes Tender Taps smiled back.
“Thanks, Big Mac… I didn’t really see any of that before. I must have acted and sounded so foalish before,” Tender Taps bit his lip, crimson blush flooding and brightening his already bright orange cheeks.
“Don’t ever blame yerself for not knowin’, now, we really must be headin’ back soon. There is just one thing ah want to give ya.” Big Mac quickly turned to his saddlebag still propped behind his rear, stuffing his snout inside and pulling out a quill and notepad. Tender Taps pulled away from his lean on Big Mac’s barrel and looked up to see what he was doing. “Ah often keep this on me in the field for recording purposes, ah’m glad ah packed it in mah saddle bag earlier.”
Big Mac quickly scratched the notepad with the quill, scrawling something on the piece of paper. It didn’t take him long and soon the quill was back in the bag and the piece of paper torn from the pad. He folded it carefully and placed into the colt’s far smaller hooves.
“Read it a bit later, but whenever ya feel small, or not good enough, or not stallion enough, just read what’s on that paper and always know that what you have right there is the best thing you could ever have. Ya will need help, and if you just stick to what’s on that paper, you will always know who you are and what ta do,” Tender Taps turned the paper around in his hooves curiously, wondering what the older stallion could have possibly written upon it. Eventually, he returned his attention to Big Mac, stuffing the note into the folds of his scarf.
“Thanks again Big Mac, I don’t know what to say…”
“It’s alright, sometimes it’s wha’ we don’t say...” Big Mac smiled warmth into the colt’s eyes, encouraging him to do the same. “Alright, it’s getting mighty cold out here, ah hope you planned on stayin’ the night.”
“Yeah, I arranged it all with Applebloom, and Mum and Dad.”
“Good tah here, ya always welcome at the Apple House.”
Tender Taps got up himself and brushed the blades of grass out of his fur. “I’m gonna head back now if that’s alright?”
Big Mac sat up, but didn’t go much further. “It’s alright, Ah’ll stay out here a bit longer, tell AppleJack ah won’t be far behind.”
“Alright Big Mac, seeya soon.” Tender Taps made a quick dash down the hill and began to run back to the Apple House. Yet, shortly after he began to slow down, looking behind him for Big Mac. Where the wind became softer and the trees became quieter, he took the piece of paper from the layers of the scarf. And when he was satisfied that nopony was in sight, he began unfolding the paper, reading what Big Mac had scratched upon it on the hill.
You don’t need to be a stallion, you need to be Tender Taps
“Hey Ma, hey Pa. Ah know I’m early, ah just thought ah’d let you know that ah talked to a little colt tonight. He was scared and sad and lost. Just like me when ya’ll left us. But ah helped him, and ah let him cry, just like ah did. It felt good to help him. Now ah know how you felt Pa, helpin’ me find mah way. Maybe ah should be a dad of my own one day, too bad ah can’t talk tah mares.” Big Mac chuckled to himself, “Ah’m sure ah’ll work it out someday soon, ah’ve gotta couple of leads anyway...
“Ah wanted to say thanks Pa, fer being a stallion that didn’t let others tell him how ta live… or what ta do. Ya wore ya heart on ya sleeve and ya loved me and Applejack more than anything. Ah probably would have walked past that colt kicking in the trees if ya didn’t. Ma, thanks for letting me be who ah was, even if I wasn’t the best apple bucker or the most boisterous colt in the town. Ah know y’all both probably worried about me. Bein’ not one tah get my hooves dirty or to do heavy lifting… But it mean’t a lot to me that ah could be me, ah’ll always let that effect who ah wanna be.
“Ah’ve just finished a new book, it’s all about love magic, an how it applies to earth ponies. Ah agreed with it a hundred-per-cent unno, it talked about family bonds and romantic bonds and such. It was a great read, ah read it faster than others, it all really struck a chord with me, cause ah still love ya, and ah still miss ya like crazy. But that’s alright, ‘cause ah use all that love to also love and care for every pony that’s in mah life and who loves me back. It may not be the most typical stallion thing, but ah know y’all both don’t really care, as long as it’s me being good ol’ Big Mac, then ya couldn’t be prouder. And, ah can’t be prouder of y’all for that.”
Big Macintosh wiped a fleeting tear from his eye and smiled up at the stars from the hill, the darkness now firmly filling the sky and the wind cascading through his mane from the now dark valleys and rises rolling through the farm. The whistling wind blew leaves about the stallion. Big Mac looked around at the fluttering debris, catching one in the wind. He turned the leaf around in his hooves, like it was new and completely unique and different to all the other leaves in Sweet Apple Acres, there was something warm and reassuring about it. Yet, after a while he gently let it go, allowing the wind take ownership once again.
But since the day he learnt that colts can cry, he still did from time to time, he was proud of it. A pain in his chest and a couple more tears came, but he embraced them. It was the most stallion thing he could do.
“Love ya both and ah’ll talk real soon.”
