In which we learn of Applejack's Mother and Father
The Apple Family was having a big sale in town. It was getting towards the end of the season, and, as Granny Smith kept shouting, everything must go. They had already put away the apple preserves and the cider that they were going to ferment for special occasions. Now they were selling the last of their apple pies, fritters, crumble, cobbler, crisps, cakes, candy apples and other such goodies.
Applejack was trotting to and fro, restocking the booth every few minutes. Ponies were going crazy over the Apple Family recipes, and the bits were pouring in. As it got towards nightfall, fewer and fewer customers arrived, and Big Mac had already taken Apple Bloom and Granny Smith home.
AJ was about to close the booth when a brown mare approached. Her mane and tail were blonde, her eyes blue. She was a Unicorn, and she had a pad of paper as her cutie mark. "Are you Abigail Jacqueline?" she asked, smiling a bit.
Applejack chuckled a bit. "Only if Ah'm in trouble with Granny Smith. Call me Applejack. What can Ah do ya fer?"
"I'm a reporter for Equestria Daily News. I'm doing a series on the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. I'm not looking for your life story, I just want to get the details on one little thing."
"Ah know what yer wonderin'. Where'd my hat come from."
"Uh, yes. How did you know?"
"It's what everypony asks me. It's like there's some rule. 'If yer gonna ask Applejack one question, ask about her hat.' Well, if you have the time and wanna maybe buy an apple pie, I'll tell ya the story of my hat, my pa, and the most important day of my life."
Short answer is, my pa gave me my hat when I was just a little filly. But that's not what you wanna hear. My pa was a great stallion. He was strong, handsome, funny. Ah'm a bit biased, I s'pose, since he was my pa. He loved his family. He raised Big Mac an' me til Apple Bloom was born.
Our ma was a wonderful mare. Ah didn't know her too well, me bein' so young. She died givin' birth to Apple Bloom. What? No, I wouldn't trade back if Ah had the chance. It's not what ma would've wanted and Ah love my little sister.
Anyways, when Ma died, Pa got lost, as Granny Smith put it. He'd still help out on the farm and play with me 'n' Big Mac, but... He was just goin' through the motions, y'know? Ah really resented Apple Bloom at first, even though it wasn't her fault. In my fool filly eyes, she took my ma away, and then my pa turned away.
Pa had a hat. An old dusty leather thing. It was fallin' apart on his head, but did he turn it in for a new one? Shoot no. He always said he'd wear the hat to the grave, and then some. Ah believed him. Huh? Naw, this ain't the same hat. That one sits up on the mantel at home. We don't touch it, 'cause we think it'll fall to dust if we do.
Ah loved my pa, really. Ah was even named after him, kinda. Ah'm Abigail Jacqueline Apple. He was Jacky Apple, Applejack to his friends.
But he was lost, like Ah said. When Ma passed away, he's the one that buried her, all by his lonesome. He dug two holes that day, and told us that if he passed before we did, he wanted to be beside her. We honored that. We'd be cruel not to. Granny always says that there ain't no love that can be separated by the grave.
Pa's chores on the farm included bucking the apples and carryin' 'em back to the barn. He taught Big Macintosh to do it and he taught me to do it. Never got to play til we got the bucking done for the day. But then, what games we would play. He would be our own rodeo bull. We'd ride him, wrastle him, hog tie him.
And he would always smile and laugh til Ma was gone. I know, I keep going back to it. I ain't ever been able to talk like this to someone before. And it's an important part of how Ah got my hat.
Afterwards, he'd still play with us, but he wouldn't give us all his energy. He was worn down after a few hours of apple buckin' and sometimes he just went inside and took a nap while Big Mac and I played by ourselves. He got quieter. He had been outspoken, and then he stopped saying as much. Eventually, the only two words we could get out of him on our own were 'Eeyup' and 'Nope.'
Big Mac asked him why he didn't talk as much one day. Pa told 'im that when you miss someone dear to you, it was normal to talk less. Macintosh took that to heart, though he's gotten better lately. Ah guess he took Ma's death harder than Ah did. Never really thought about it that way before.
Ah'm realizing a lot of things tellin' you this...
Pa got sick, but he wasn't ill. He wouldn't eat, had trouble sleeping, more trouble wakin' up. His chores went half-finished until Big Mac or Ah stepped in to finish 'em. He wouldn't talk. When Granny Smith took him to the doctor, doc said that he was depressed. Nothin' to do about it except try to keep him occupied.
A week later, Granny arranged for the Oranges to stay with us. Our Manehattan family on Ma's side. They loved Pa, like he was one of their own. Ah guess in a way he was. They got his mind off Ma, all right. They told him that if he didn't start shaping up, they were gonna buy the farm out from under him, adopt me, Big Mac, and Apple Bloom, and make him get therapy.
He started workin' harder, playin' funner. He was almost himself again. But there was always this look in his eyes when you mentioned Ma. Annette Julianne Orange-Apple. Ah get most of my looks from her. Orange coat. Blonde mane and tail. Only thing that aren't hers are the eyes. These are one-hundred percent Pa.
We had the farm back in shape soon enough. Pa would take me and Big Mac to see Ma's grave. Granny Smith would come along sometimes, but that was about the time her hip started goin' bad. Pa would tell us stories about Ma. How she once rescued a baby bird from a timber wolf. How she chained herself to a big ol' sycamore tree that some corporation wanted cut down. Ma was a good pony, and Pa was her perfect match.
Eventually the Oranges went back home. They said that we were always welcome in Manehattan. Yeah, Ah took 'em up on that eventually. A few weeks after Pa died. But you don't wanna hear that story. That's my Cutie Mark story. You wanna hear about my hat and Pa.
Pretty soon after they left, Pa was back to his new old self. He was lost again. At least until the day that Apple Bloom ran away.
Ghost Writer looked up quietly, noticing tears on Applejack's cheeks. "Maybe you should tell me more tomorrow. It's getting late, and I don't want to keep you."
Applejack nodded, swiping at her eyes with one hoof. "Awright. Ah'll be here selling tomorrow. I c'n let Big Mac and Granny Smith run the stall for a bit." She smiled. "Thanks for letting me tell you this."
"Thanks for letting me hear it. I'll see you tomorrow."
In which Apple Bloom runs away and Applejack gets her Hat
The apple business was booming. Applejack watched proudly as ponies bought her treats by the cartload, almost literally. Big Mac had to be one of the best salesponies ever, and Apple Bloom grabbed attention like no one else. Granny Smith was inside Sugar Cube Corner at the moment, making more of the delicious sweets.
The blonde Earth Pony's attention moved from her family to the brown Unicorn in front of her. Ghost Writer had her paper and pen out, ready to get started. "All right. You were about to tell me about Apple Bloom running away."
"Ah was, but there's some things left to say before we get to that."
"More about your father?"
"More about Big Mac and Apple Bloom."
Big Macintosh is one of the hardest workers you'll find in Equestria, not countin' myself of course. He's always been that way. Ah guess he realized that Pa was losing it and decided to be the stallion of the house. Never mind that he was hardly even six years old. We needed somepony to rely on, and Big Mac was it. Back then he was just Macintosh, or Little Mac to older ponies.
Apple Bloom was born in the cold of December, right about the time that apples go out of season. There was a small snow storm on that day, nothin' too bad.
The day Mama died was the day that Mac fell in love. No, not with a very special somepony. With a little yellow filly who'd just been born. After the doc had cleaned up the mess and moved Ma, he let us in to see our new sister. She was bundled up in pink, and Pa was holding her.He let us each get a good look at her.
Ah'd never been more excited in my whole life. A new sister, can you imagine it? Ah wanted to hold her and love her forever. But my feelings were nothing compared to Mac's. He took one look at her and Ah could feel the change in him. He'd always been protective of me, but Ah wasn't the kind of filly who needed lookin' after.
He asked our Pa what her name was. She didn't have one yet. And it was Little Macintosh who said "Well, she looks 'bout like an apple bloom with her face peeking out like that."
We all agreed. She definitely did look like a tiny little Apple Bloom.
When we got her home, Mac and Ah fell over ourselves working out the best possible schedule for us to watch her after chores. Way we had it figured, we could finish our chores at noon, and he could watch her til four, then Ah'd watch her til bed time. By that point, Pa was still mostly himself, so that wasn't an issue. Not until two weeks later when we all three got chewed on by Granny Smith for leaving unbucked trees in the north orchard.
After that, there wasn't much time for us to watch our baby sister. Ah would let Macintosh off the hook occasionally and finish his chores and mine and Pa's so he could go spend time with her. He never really resented her like Ah ended up doing after a while. When I finally put two 'n' two together and realized that she was why Ma hadn't come home... Well, Ah wasn't a fun filly to be around, and you couldn't even say the words 'apple bloom' without me gettin' angry.
But Mac? He loved her even though he surely realized why we had an Apple Bloom but not a Mama. He was two years older than me, maybe he was just more understanding. But after Ah made the connection, Ah wanted nothin' to do with our little sister.
Sure, Ah would keep an eye on her when all the grown-ups were busy with apple sellin', cooking and whatnot. Ah would play with her and she was adorably sweet, but Ah was still angry, and angry Ah would stay.
Pa started bringing her with us when we went to visit Ma's grave. He told the stories of her, and those were the times when he seemed really, truly alive. He would look back in the past and be young again, with her.
Once Apple Bloom got to where she could walk out to the orchards, Big Mac would take her out with him. They'd gab while he worked. Ah stayed clear of them both. Back then Ah was convinced that Ah hated Apple Bloom. Her first birthday rolled around. By that point, Pa was sick again. No chores had gotten done that day. With Pa not wanting to get out of bed and the worst blizzard since the first Hearth's Warming Eve outside, Granny Smith just had us stay inside and drink some hot cocoa.
And I did an awful thing to Apple Bloom. It was getting towards the end of the day, and she noticed that I hadn't told her happy birthday yet. Ah told her that Ah didn't see it as the day she was born; Ah saw it as the day Mama died. Well, what do you expect happened? She started bawlin', and that got me a stern lecture and a one way ticket for the night to my room.
The next day, the storm hadn't let up any. Everypony was in a panic because Apple Bloom wasn't in the house. At some point durin' the night, she'd slipped out her window. And thanks to the blizzard, we had no sign of where she'd gone. Ah felt like such a donkey. No, Ah take that back, that was an insult to donkeys everywhere.
Granny Smith stayed home while Mac, Pa, and I searched. Mac went into town to see if anyone had seen her and maybe get a bit of help. Pa and Ah headed towards the Everfree Forest, hopin' she hadn't gone that way.
Pa gave me a talkin' to. "Applejack, Ah know you miss your ma. Ah miss her too. But she died so your little sister could live. Apple Bloom is our one reminder of her, you understand?"
Ah, bein' the obedient filly Ah was, nodded and said, "Yessir. Ah just got angry at her. Ah'm sorry, Ah caused all this."
He just gave me a kind look and said, "Don't you worry. We'll find her and that'll more than make up for it."
But we didn't find her. He sent me and Mac home when it started gettin' dark. Everypony that Mac had gotten to help went into their own homes. The storm had died down earlier that day, but it was still snowing pretty heavily. Granny, Mac, and Ah all waited up. Finally, Pa came in with a bundle on his back.
He looked sick. He wouldn't stop shaking, and his mane was half-frozen. But when we tried to get him to the fireplace, he pushed the bundle towards us. And there was Apple Bloom, lookin' like she was dead. Hay, for a little bit we were sure she was, but we kept her by the fire at Pa's orders. He wasn't backin' down for nothin'. He'd found her layin' on Mama's grave at the top of the hill. And that night, he was Pa. The real Pa. The Pa that used to run and play with me and Mac.
The sun was just startin' to rise when we heard a tiny cough from Apple Bloom. And that was good enough for us. We called the doctor over right away. He condemned both Pa and Apple Bloom to bed.
They both had Pneumonia. Doc said that neither of them had a good chance. Fillies that young almost never survived it, and Pa had been mistreatin' himself so badly that his immune system wasn't up to it. He said that the only thing to do was wait.
We didn't have to wait long. Ah swear, Apple Bloom's one of the bounciest ponies besides Pinkie Pie. In four days, she was chattin' us up and wantin' to get out of bed. Hers was a miracle recovery.
Pa didn't get better. Over the next month his health continued to drop. Finally, the doc let us go in one by one to see him. Except Apple Bloom. Last thing she needed was to catch it again. Ah don't know what Pa told Macintosh and Granny Smith. Ah do know that they came out cryin', though Mac was tryin' not to let it show. Macintosh had changed again. He wasn't Little Mac no more, he was Big Macintosh.
And when my turn came, I went in a bit nervously. Ah was sure he wanted to yell at me for gettin' him into this mess. He smiled at me, though, and told me, "You look just like your mother. Except for the eyes. Those are Apple eyes." A fit of coughin' interrupted him before he said, "You need to look after this family. Big Mac can do it, but he'll need your help."
"Yessir," Ah said automatically. He held up a hoof.
"Lemme finish. I'm not gonna last much longer, Abigail-- Applejack." He smiled a bit. "Ah probably won't make it to your sixth birthday. Ah'm sorry for that. But I want you to do me a favor."
"Anything, Daddy." Ah was crying by now. Why wouldn't Ah? Ah was five years old, and my Pa was dying.
"Ah want you to go over to my closet, and in the back is a big round box. Ah want you to take out what's in that box and wear it."
Ah did as he was told. Ah went to his closet, opened it slowly. The rule in the house was you didn't touch anypony's closet but yours. But my Pa told me to, so Ah did. Ah found the box he was talkin' about. Big, round thing. Ah opened it up and pulled out a new leather stetson, exactly like the one he wore all the time.
Puttin' it on my head felt like Ah was bein' crowned the next princess of Equestria. Ah walked back out to let me Pa see it. He reached out to straighten it a little, and gave me a big ole smile. "Correction: Now you look just like your mother." He coughed again. "Remember, little girl. This ain't your fault. Ah was the fool who stayed out in the snow all night. You keep an eye on your sister. And don't let your older brother work too hard. Take care of your Granny for me, Celestia knows she won't make it easy."
"Ah will, Daddy."
"Good girl. Give me a hug, and then send your Granny back in. Ah have a few final things to tell her."
Ah did as Ah was told. Two hours later, the world was a darker place. The four of us made the trip up the hill with Pa. Granny Smith said a few words. Big Mac and Ah filled in his hole, the one he'd dug the year before. We placed his marker right next to Mama's. Hers said 'A wonderful mother and a good mare.' We wrote his to say 'An amazing father and a great stallion.'
Apple Bloom cried. Who'm Ah kiddin', we all cried. We headed back to the house to warm up and let ourselves grieve for a bit. Big Mac carried Apple Bloom up the hill. Ah carried her down. Ah even let her wear my hat for a bit, but Pa had given her a bow for her birthday.
And Ah told myself that Ah would always love my little sister, no matter what.
Ghost Writer sniffed a bit as she put that final period. "Thank you, Applejack. That was a beautiful story."
"It was one that Ah needed to tell. Ah look forward to seein' it in Equestria Daily News."
"Applejack, Applejack, Ah just made mah first sale!" Apple Bloom came bouncing up, grinning.
Applejack gave her a small grin. "We'll make a salespony out of you yet. Anything else you need, Miss Writer?"
"You've given me plenty. But hey, maybe I'll get Big Mac's view some time."
"Well, you're always welcome here in Ponyville, so don't be a stranger."
"Who was she, Applejack?" Apple Bloom looked up at her older sister, pure admiration in her eyes.
"Just some journalist, wonderin' about my hat."
"Oh, oh, will you tell me now?"
"Well... Sure." Applejack smiled. "It all started the day you were born..."
Applejack smiled a bit as she brought another plate of apple fritters to the table. The party was in full swing, and all of her little sister's closest friends were there, as well as Applejack's group.
She had found that her relationship with everyone had grown since talking to Ghost Writer. Her friends had been the first ones to give her love, and had expressed their sentiments about her story. Pinkie Pie had thrown a 'Applejack got into the newspaper' party, and she had bonded with her five best friends as she recounted the tale to them. By the end of it, all of them were crying and group hugging her, though Rainbow Dash refused to admit to that first part. "Allergies," she had claimed. Likely story.
She had spoken with Big Macintosh about his feelings on the matter. Strange that nopony had thought to ask him how he felt. Since that talk, he had really come out of his shell, and Mac the Clown was a big hit at Apple Bloom's birthday party this year. Cheerilee was laughing from the corner as her beau sang and danced for the kids.
Meanwhile, the Cutie Mark Crusaders had done their own interview with her, trying to earn their reporter Cutie Marks. Never mind that they had already tried that with Gabby Gums, they were trying to be legitimate this time. It had been a bust in that sense, but they had all seemed to grow from the story. Scootaloo especially had taken to heart that, even if sompeony was gone, they would be with you in your heart.
A small memorial service had been inducted my the mayor, since nopony but the Apple family had been privy to the original two burials. The farm had received many anonymous gifts and donations from ponies who had read the story and felt their hearts go out to the Apples. Business was better than ever, and they had actually branched out to their Manehatten Apple cousins, who had started their own farm, though it had a paid staff on it.
The Oranges, her mother's family, had paid a visit to the farm, wishing to express their gratitude to her for putting her mother in such a positive light. She had firmly denied any reason to be thanked, since she had spoken nothing but the truth. They had gone back to Manehatten and invested in both branches of Sweet Apple Acres.
But the best part of all, in her opinion, was that whenever somepony asked about her hat, she no longer felt a deep sadness and an urge to change the subject. Now she told them "It's a bit of a story, but if you have time and maybe wanna buy a pie, I'll be happy to share it."
Author's Note
Okay, so I had listed this story as done after the previous chapter, but for some reason a writing fit overtook me, and I felt the need to add this little epilogue. I also want to know if anyone wants me to do a sequel to this, and what character it should focus on if I do.
Oddly, I wasn't expecting this story to gain even the small following that it did. After the first chapter, I had around five followers on it and quite a few thumbs. After the second, I had a total of twenty followers (And yes, that seemed, and still seems, like a big number for a small-time writer like me) and fifteen thumbs. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who enjoyed my story.
