One Fell Out of the Apple Tree

“Rise n’ shine,” the curtains were drawn back causing the early morning sun to leak through like spilled milk in a drain. Not a cloud was in the sky, not a chance of rain. A blanket of blue hung from the sky like a clothesline, so Apple Bloom groaned, and she hid her head underneath her own blanket. The thought to say ‘Five more minutes,’ dawned on her, but in sleep most words came out as mumbles.

Hoof steps circled around the bed. They had that distinctive sound of steel on hollow wood. A thump thump thump, and then they stopped. Applejack got close, very close to where her nostrils flared and blew a feather from her pillow. Her sister’s snout dug to where her head lay and she nuzzled into her. “C’mon, birthday filly. Time ta start the day,”

Apple Bloom propped an eye open. What she saw was the honey fur of her one true guardian—she might as well be, since Granny Smith was getting too old to really know her left from right, and Big Mac stuck to the farm work most times. He was fun, and often they’d interact, joke, or play, but he felt like the big brother. He was the big brother.

Applejack, on the other hoof, was a mother, and she was in every sense of the word. From the way she nurtured her right down to the discipline.

“Already mornin’? I feel like I just went to sleep,” The filly sat up, yawned, then stretched her forelegs similar to a cat after a long nap. “But you can’t just say ‘happy birthday’, you gotta sing it,” She smiled, expecting her sister to break out in song.

“Hold yer horses, now. We gonna have ta save that for the festivities,” Applejack gathered her saddlebag, and as she did she inspected the sheets of paper on the ground. It was supposed to be homework and Apple Bloom couldn’t remember if she completed hers or not. After a few seconds of silent staring Applejack placed the sheets in the bag. “Ask that teacher of yours about question 12. That don’t seem like the right answer, but I ain’t the best at arithmetic,”

Apple Bloom nodded as she climbed out of bed then got to work making it.

“Education is important,” the saddlebag was placed on the knick knack chair. The thing needed to be cleared of all the random scarfs, hats, beads, socks, and other miscellaneous articles of clothing. It made for a good hiding spot. Probably the best in the house, and something that good could not be removed. Apple Bloom was holding her breath anticipating Applejack mentioning the chair again like every morning, but she didn’t. Instead she said, “Big Mac is making pancakes,” and Apple Bloom absolutely lit up. “Go on now, get ready before he finishes up,”

Apple Bloom dashed past her sister and all the way to the bathroom door. The filly wasted no time going through her usual morning routine; showering, brushing her fur and teeth, styling her mane, and placing a pink bow on top like a Hearth's Warming ornament. With a quick nod in the mirror, she was ready to take on the day. Before Apple Bloom could leave the bathroom, though, she caught a glimpse of her still blank flank. It always bothered her, but the thought of going through another birthday without her cutie mark only made her feel like more of a foal. Ten years old and still unaware of her special talent.

One could only wonder if it took this long for the average pony.

When Apple Bloom finally opened the door she could hear the clatter of utensils and light chatter among her siblings. The smell of freshly baked pancakes traveled upstairs and that same smile she wore before had returned. Apple Bloom was going to break out into a gleeful gallop when she remembered her grandmother was likely still asleep. To wake her would be inconsiderate, as Applejack would say. The thought of disturbing Granny Smith’s much needed rest had Apple Bloom’s engines chugging to a stop. She took in a breath and slowly passed her shut door, but as she got closer she noticed it was cracked open just a bit. Far enough to look into.

Boxes. She saw boxes everywhere. A few of Granny Smith’s quilts have been removed from their usual place in the wall, along with the glass sculptures of foal angels she often kept on a shelf above her bed. Her room looked bare beyond the empty furniture and the breathing body beneath the covers. Apple Bloom raised a hoof to knock—

“Come n’ ge’ it!” Her sister called in reference to breakfast. “It’s gon get cold, Apple Bloom!”

Big Mac made the best apple cinnamon pancakes, hoofs down. Nopony even came close to duplicating that sweet, mouthwatering, taste. Not even Pinky Pie. It was a shame he only made it on special occasions, but when he did Apple Bloom had a habit of scoffing it down as quickly as she could without choking and causing Applejack to have a heart attack. Gooey syrup would drip from her furry chin and Big Mac would raise a brow. He then stuffed his face too almost in competition, and Apple Bloom would laugh at his inflated cheeks.

“Didn’t know I was livin’ with a buncha wild horses,” Applejack shook her head and finished her meal. A flick of the tail later, and the mare gathered all the dishes from the table. When she turned her back to wash up, Big Mac would wink at the filly, and Apple Bloom would giggle. “Y’all best get goin’. And don’tcha worry about your chores today, Ay Bee, we already done em,”

Apple Bloom hadn’t noticed she woke up so late until she looked at the roaster clock on the wall. It’s beak was on the 7, and it’s left leg was on the 3. To get out of work for a day was definitely a birthday treat, but to potentially be late for school could be a nightmare.

It wasn’t shortly after that she washed her hooves, grabbed her saddlebag, and left for school. Big Mac was loading up his cart with a few barrels of apples. Apple Bloom said a quick goodbye, but he waved her over. “How about ah ride?” He asked, and he stood over her, as he always did, when he reached down to get another barrel.

Big Mac was a pillar of a pony. With years of hard manual labor his body was ripe with muscle, behemoth height, and the power of two draft horses. He was the biggest stallion in Ponyville, but she knew him as a harmless teddy bear. As gentle to the touch as he was, one wouldn’t think his hind legs alone could topple an apple tree with just one buck.

“Yes please!” Apple Bloom said as she had to strain her neck to look up at his rosy face. The sun hid behind his mane making it hard to see his warm smile, but creating a halo of sorts. In her heart she felt nothing but deep love for him.

“Up n’ atit,'' Big Mac craned his neck down to allow her to climb up. She saddled around his flowing mane and held on tight as he lifted her from the distancing ground and towards the wooden cart. Apple Bloom still held on. “Dis here’s yer stop,” the stallion joked.

“I think I like it up here,” Apple Bloom slid down to his back and at first clung on like a koala before using her forelegs to push her upper body to sit upright.

“As you wish, yer highness,” a bow later and he proceeded to finish loading up before the two went on their way.

The sound the wooden wheels made against the gravel made it easy to slip into thought. Apple Bloom thought about the apples on the trees they passed, she thought about the warmth beneath her and how she could feel each muscle in her brother’s back and shoulders working in tandem like the innards of a machine. She thought about her grandmother and that invoked this feeling of dread about the unknown. And as if Big Mac could read her mind, he asked, “what’s bouncin’ around that head of yours?” As he spoke she could feel the vibrations traveling from his larynx all the way up her bones. It was like he was a little pony with a big voice inside of her.

Apple Bloom blew a strand of hair from her face. What she saw in that bedroom felt like something she wasn’t supposed to see, yet there was a trust she felt towards him, like some sort of intuition that he wouldn’t get mad if she brought it up. So she asked, “Is Granny Smith dying?” Then she waited.

There was a pause. Big Mac didn’t stop trotting along the path, but he did hold in a breath, and she could feel his lungs expand below her. Death wasn’t a thing the filly completely understood. She knew a pony would pass and they’d be gone for good. She knew that sometimes it was slow, and sometimes it was painful. She just didn’t think it could happen to anypony so close to her, especially such a strong mare like Granny Smith.

“Granny ain’t dying,” he assured her after a moment. “She jus’ needs help that we can’t give.”

Apple Bloom didn’t know what he meant by that, but she could tell he felt uncomfortable with the conversation, so she dropped it.

With the drop in mood and the sudden quiet, Big Mac raised his ears in attention. He looked back at her and smiled. “Hayride tonight?” It was so easy for him to read her. For an earth pony he had a sort of magic about him.

Apple Bloom nodded her head in excitement. To go on a midnight hayride through their apple orchard was an activity she always loved. The best time to do it was surrounded by a lot of friends and family and while the stars were out. She’d take it over anything in the world. Absolutely anything.

“Hayride it is, yet highness,” he said, and Apple Bloom did feel like a princess.

At the end of their orchard and near a crossroad were two fillies. One leaned against a scooter, while the other balanced a gift on her back. When they spotted the cart and the birthday foal on her trusted stead both fillies lit up and waved. “Apple Bloom!” The young unicorn yelled.

“Happy birthday!” The orange pegasus called after.

They were both shouting at the top of their lungs, yet Big Mac was only a few feet away. He came to a stop when he reached the pair. They got a bow of the head for a greeting. “Mornin’ ladies,” the stallion said, and the fillies giggled. It wasn’t but last weekend Apple Bloom was thrusted into a very awkward conversation pertaining to how cute Big Macintosh was. It was weird, but there was a colt or two that Apple Bloom would blush over, so she assumed it only felt that way because she was related to the stallion. To her he just looked like Big Mac, and there was no opinion about his appearance beyond it. To everypony else he must’ve been the hottest thing after Celestia’s sun.

The fillies said a collective, “Good morning!” before climbing onboard right next to the barrel of apples. When Big Mac was sure all passengers were securely in the cart, he continued his journey to the schoolhouse.

Apple Bloom turned around to face her friends and she still sat upwards. “Did you guys get your math homework done?” She asked, and Big Mac was going a little faster now, so as her puffy red hair bounced against her forehead she had to squeeze her hind legs a little tighter to make sure not to fall off. Her brother made a low grunt when she did, and Apple Bloom assumed she was hurting him, so she lessened up a bit.

Scootaloo leaned back as she rested her head against a barrel. “We had math homework?” An irritated groan escaped her. “Since when?”

“Since last Friday. It’s to prepare us for the quiz today, remember?” Sweetie belle reminded all matter-of-factly.

“Guess I’m failing another math quiz,” The small pegasus shrugged. School work was never on the forefront of Scootaloo’s priorities. She had dreams of racing on her mind. Despite that lack of academic ambition, it was that drive, that knowing exactly what she wanted out of life, that really made her somepony to envy.

Apple Bloom dug into her saddlebag and pulled out the math sheet. She looked at problem 12. “Don’t say that. We can work on it now before we get to school,” the offer was mainly so she could get help from Sweetie Belle, who no doubt did it all, and did it well. There was a stigma with asking for help, there shouldn’t be, but there was one. So she held her breath and prayed that her clever mask would work.

And the filly fell into her trap.

As quick as ever, Sweetie Belle retrieved her homework. “Good thinking! Now listen closely, Scootaloo, I will only go over it once,”

Apple Bloom tried to balance the box of apple fritters in her mouth. Big Mac surprised her with the treats after they arrived at school, and it was a treat to pass around to her classmates in celebration of her big day. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo went around clearing the way and opening doors so she wouldn’t trip, and as they did many young eyes watched the streaming hot treats with hungry eyes.

“Out of the way! The birthday filly has arrived!” Sweetie Belle yelled when they reached their classroom. Everypony turned to look at her and the stack of fritters.

Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon only gave a glance before flicking their manes over their shoulders. Those two bullies could appear as unbothered as they wanted. It was obvious they knew they weren’t getting any. A smile crept along Apple Bloom’s lips when she passed them and they continued to ignore her.

Cheerilee, her home room teacher, approached with an equally large smile. “Happy birthday, Apple Bloom,” but the filly knew she only wanted first dibs on the fritters. No ma’am. Not today. “Here, let’s get these out of the way,” Her hoof tugged on the box and Apple Bloom pulled away.

“Ah actually wanna pass em out, if that’s okay with you?” Puffy hair swayed with the motion of her head. Her doe eyes blinked innocently at the mare.

Her teacher only giggled. “Very well. Let’s all take our seats, sing ‘Happy Birthday’, then enjoy our morning snack,” The foals all got to their desks and sat down patiently and quietly. They were so obedient. They were so willing to please in hopes of a treat. They had all eyes on her and Apple Bloom wondered if this was what power felt like? Her mind wandered to an alicorn on a throne commanding the masses, and she also wondered if that is something she’d want. It seemed like a lot of responsibility even if it did feel good for a little while. Maybe it was how a mother felt with her foal; the privilege to command yet the burden to protect. Apple Bloom wondered, as she passed around the fritters, what it would feel like to be a mother, and she decided she would think more about it when she was a little older.