A Clap of Thunder

Later, Annie and I were in the main orchard, picking the early apples. Harvest season was less than a month out, and right about now is when some of the main produce of this farm, the apples, were ripening. The big legwork days would be in October, or whenever the Zap Apples decided to show up—that could happen any day now—but until then, we were on apple duty.

After a few months I was trusted enough to do most tasks on my own to Papa Rome’s satisfaction, but this part was new and I needed to be trained for the upcoming season again. Like a colt with shiny new bits in his pocket, I had a question in mind that was going to burn a hole in me if I didn’t get to it soon.

“Now, there is a trick ta buckin’ apples, but it’s real difficult ta explain. Ya see, there’s a spot on every tree where the magic in yer hooves and the magic in the plants connect. It sorta finds its way up ta the ripe apples and knocks ‘em all off the branches. Over time ya know which is which and where ta kick, but every tree is different and sometimes they’re finicky.”

“Hey, Annie?”

Concern washed over her. “Oh, did Ah explain that wrong? Ah’m sorry Spruce, Ah’ve never had ta teach anypony this part. We all grew up knowin’ what ta do, and it’s been hard ta think through what actually happens.”

I shook my hoof. “No, no, I think I get the tree thing.” Well, kinda. The family books talk about trees and magic, and this is how the Apples have been able to manage such a large orchard for so long with just a single family, but I haven’t seen it in action and I don’t really understand it. I don’t think I will until I see it done, either. “Heir didn’t really just show up with a couple of gifts and ask to marry you, right?”

She groaned. “Oh, this again.” She scanned the nearby trees for anything she could pick, found one glossy green apple in the bunch, then moved to its tree. She shot a hoof out at the center, and I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it, but the apple just fell right into her hoof. “Why do ya wanna know?”

I didn’t want to make any confessions or anything here because, honestly, I’m not even sure how I feel anymore, but what I do know is that time wouldn’t wait forever.

“I mean, ya know, I never thought Heir was that kind of pony. He’s like Rome and all the other stallions out here. Hammer in search of a nail, but not without some discretion, ya know? I’d expect better than that from him.”

She frowned at me, then scowled at the apple. She tossed it at me, then went back to scanning for more. I put the apple in our collection cart and followed along, not sure if I should bring it up again. We moved in silence until, when she found a ripe yellow apple—a golden delicious I think—she started back up.

“Hammer in search of a nail, huh? Whether it hits a nail or a foal, it strikes at everythin’—that’s a good description fer Heir, Ah suppose.” She tossed the apple to me. “Ya know what strain this one is?”

Course she quizzes me. I checked it all over, making sure there was no red anywhere because ‘red and yellow’ makes up like twenty different kinds and they all have different patterns and tastes, but because this one didn’t, I was sure. “Golden delicious.”

She smirked, then turned away. “Imagine that, the boy can learn.” She continued at a slower pace now, scanning lazily. I think she knew there wasn’t anything else for us to pick, but she’d already started her story. “No, it wasn’t that simple.”

Annie stopped at the base of one of the ‘super’ trees. These trees were all over the orchard, the magical ones that grew as big as oaks and carried more than one variety of apple on their branches. She sat down and leaned against the big trunk and motioned for me to sit next to her.

“At first, he approached me with a deal. Two farms, two families; we merge, no more competition in the village, we sell as a unit at whatever we think is fair and the profits go up as a whole. More crops, more food, more sustainability fer the town. In theory, it ain’t a bad deal.”

I nodded. “Now that sounds like Heir.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “To a T. If ya don’t know, that’s how his parents ended up together.”

I considered that. I met the Pears once, and their deal is a little different than the Apples. All together, the family is more solemn. Not the kind of ponies you’d expect to see relaxing or with hobbies other than their orchard. Heir and his father are carbon copies of each other, Anjou and her mother are the same way, and only Asia seemed like an artsy type.

In contrast, the Apples are pretty lively. The twins are always doing something, they all can play the guitar better than I ever could with my ukulele, and they’re all sarcastic and jokes with each other. Maybe I just haven’t seen the Pears at home and comfortable, but the Apples are always like that no matter where they go.

“Is that a big deal? I mean, compared to how things go in Manehattan, it sounds like the mare gets a pretty good deal out of it.” A house, a source of income, a job where she doesn’t have to deal with the worst stallions the world has to offer on a regular basis. If Mom had gotten a deal like that…

Annie eyed me like I was crazy. “Maybe Pa is right. Ah’m not sure Ah want ta know much about yer world.” She let her eyes drift up and she sank back into the tree. “All things considered, Ah suppose it ain’t too bad, if yer lucky. Ya could hit a stallion ya get along with, maybe even one ya love like that. But that ain’t how my parents met, and ta be honest, if Ah can have it, I’d rather pick somepony fer myself.”

“Pick for yourself, huh?” Courting usually goes one way back home. And, a lot of the time, it was a business transaction. She gets paid, you get laid, everypony leaves satisfied and unaffiliated. “I guess, I really don’t know what you mean. What’s the point if it isn’t for business?”

The crazy-eyeing intensified. “Spruce, what kinda house did ya grow up in?”

I know Rome told me not to talk about this, but she asked, so it’s really not my fault, is it? “House? Mom had an apartment in the city, but we never had a house. After she disappeared, I just kinda wandered until I met the boss.”

Annie frowned. “Sometimes Ah feel like ya speak a different language. What about yer Pa?”

“Didn’t have one.”

“What are ya talkin’ about? Everypony has a Pa. Ya kinda need both parts ta make a foal.”

I don’t know why this subject always got under my skin. “What about it? Sure, there had to be a stallion at some point, but who knows who he was or where he went. There were lots of stallions. It could’ve been any or none of them.”

Gently, she put a hoof on my shoulder. “Spruce, Sugarcube, ya… ya really don’t know, do ya?”

I stood and stepped away. “So what? I’m not some kid, Annie. I don’t need you to be my mom.”

“Oh, Sugarcube…”

What is this? That tone, that face. “Stop that! What is it? Why are you doing—” I motioned my hoof around her “—whatever this is?”

She kept looking at me with those sad eyes. Being under that golden glare; that’s what I hated about this place. I can’t escape it, from him and now from her.

Annie stood up and I stepped back. She held that torturous gaze for so long. “Ah’m sorry, Spruce.”

Goddess, this isn’t any better. “Don’t be! You didn’t do anything, just don’t do… this, alright? I can’t… I don’t…” My scalp itched. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

The gears turned. Something finally fell into place for her and she changed her look. It wasn’t sad, it wasn’t pitiful. It was interested now. She took a step closer. “And what did ya have in mind?”

Oh geez, what does that mean? Did she catch me? What do I say now? Everything was so simple back in Manehattan, I don’t even know what this is. “All I really want is…” To know if I have a chance. “Why’d you turn him down?”

There’s nothing I could offer to compare to Heir. I don’t have anything, nothing at all. No place to return to, not even a name to give away. Nothing here is the same as it was. To be with her, it couldn’t be casual. It couldn’t be a one time thing. Even if it was like Manehattan, I could never afford constant visits or anything like that. If she had a price, it’d be astronomical. Is there anything I could earn that would make it worth it to her? What could I give that she would take?

And most of all, could somepony else do it before me?

Annie stared at me, through me, with clear eyes and parted lips. I’ve always wondered how they would taste. How she would feel. But this is a different world. The rules aren’t the same here, the ponies might as well be different creatures. The rules are under the surface; it all looks so simple until you find the maze beneath. I want in, but where do I start?

“Well, ta be completely honest, it was fer selfish reasons.” She turned away and stared back up at that huge apple tree, all those red and green and yellow fruits handing in the noonday sun shining like the electric lights back in the city.

“Like what?” I took a step closer.

She raised a hoof to her lips. “If Ah’m thinkin’ objectively here, Ah’ve made an awful decision, not takin’ Heir up on his offer.”

My teeth found my inner cheek.

“This is a rural town. Unless Ah move out ta the city and go lookin’, chances are nopony else will ever come along. Can’t be the head of the family if Ah don’t have a family myself. Ain’t got forever ta make foals whenever and if Ah run out of time before Empire or Jazz or Tango does, this place will slip right out of my hooves.

“One of my cousins, named after that same yellow apple—it happened ta her. Nopony ever came along, she hit her thirties, and suddenly, her little brother had a family. Now, she lives on a secluded part of their orchard takin’ records and keepin’ track of the family history, but chances are, that’s where her story ends. No stallion, no foals, her record is written and that’s what her legacy will be, ink which fades with time.”

The new Manehattan building sprang to mind. That was going to be the first of many. A monument, a reminder to the whole city, the world even. This was our city, and this would be here long after we weren't. It wouldn’t have been some nameless stallion from the dark alleys of Manehattan, but the Black Knights that were remembered. Who we were, who I was—our legacy.

“Ink… on a page?” An entire life that only amounts to ink? If things keep going wrong, if they ever really catch the boss, would that be me? A footnote in the newspaper, even less than that. Some street trash kid who worked for a guy that the world turned against with a turn of its head. No title, no name, nothing.

“It’s a soberin’ thought. Ah love Goldie and all, she’s one of my best friends, but… Ah don’t want ta end up like her. Course, on the flip side, Ah don’t want ta end up like Heir’s mother either.”

That took me out of it. “What?”

She sighed and moved right in front of me. “Think about it, Spruce. Ya’ve been around us long enough ta see what my family is like. What Heir’s family is like. Ya’ve got ta know there’s a difference in the way we act.”

“I guess I’d never accuse the Pears of having fun like you guys do.”

Annie jabbed a hoof into my chest. “And that is exactly what Ah’m talkin’ about. A business transaction. A cold, hard deal. Papers signed, the state decreein’ these ponies hold this land under this name. A pattern started like that begets another. This loveless marriage creates another down the line. A sense of duty keeps it goin’ until somepony says no and tries ta find another way, and if they don’t, their story ends with them. Safer, easier, smarter: acquiesce and fulfill a roll. So long as you’re the substance of what ya are, at least ya have that.”

She shook her braids and let her flanks sink to the soft grass. “Heir’s mother served her purpose, she produced an heir, and now she’s a specter within the family. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a saint fer servin’ like that all this time and it’s admirable, but that’s not the life Ah want. It ain’t the one my parents got, it ain’t the one they taught me ta seek. And if I’d said yes ta Heir… Ah can’t help but think it’s the life Ah’d get.”

What could I even say? Is that how ponies live out here? In little frontier towns like this, they get one shot maybe, and if that doesn’t pan out, they just find a hole to fall in and wait for death? What’s the point? What do you live for? How do you keep on like that?

Annie curled up and brought her knees to her chest. “She scares me, ya know? Her presence is like a fixture in that family. She’s always in the house, she’s always doin’ somethin’ fer the family or their orchard, but she never smiles. Anjou and Asia are her only consolations, and she’s raisin’ them ta end up in lives just like her. Anjou will do it; she’s already got a date set and a pony ta wait fer. In just a year, she’ll have become her mother. Asia seems like the type ta break off and go on her own, but so, so much could go wrong if she goes out inta the world like that.

“There’s safety here. There’s normalcy here. At least a few stallions in the village hungry for a place ta call their own and mare ta come home ta. Long as she hooks one just like her sister, she could keep what she has and maybe even gain more. She could be lucky. But luck is so fleeting.

“Like the Zap Apples every year, ya never know what it’ll bring with it. They show up one day, share what they have ta offer, be it bounty or famine, then leave the next. They’re unreliable, but because it’s all we have ta rely on, we must. Why they come, why they go, we don’t understand it. We might never understand it. We simply hope that they do and pray that they’re enough.”

A memory filled my head. She was sitting by the window, looking down on the street one day in the middle of summer. The Uke strummed softly, a little melody she would play from time to time. She never smiled except when she would play that tune. She saw me approach, she offered to have me sit by, and she put the instrument in my hooves. One, two~ three, one, two~ three.

Such a wistful melody, such a sad smile. I never saw her again.

I put a hoof on Annie’s shoulder. If Annie disappeared like that…

“Ya know, it doesn’t have ta be like that.”

She patted my hoof and relaxed, a bit more color coming back to her smile. “Thanks, Sugarcube, but Ah know.”

“Really?” That’s not exactly the impression I got from all this.

She nodded vigorously, then pointed to the sky. “Once upon a time, Ma was bound fer a life like that. She expected it; that’s how she was raised out on her family’s rock farm. She saw my uncle married like that, she saw my aunt given away like that. She even had somepony lined up herself, bound ta continue the tradition.”

I was taken aback. “What, for real? How did she end up here?”

She raised a brow at me, searching through me with that golden glare. Those beautiful eyes.

“There was once a boy who decided that this tradition we had, of lives like that, wasn’t what he wanted out of life. He was big and strong and he didn’t need anypony ta keep him safe from the world; the world had ta be kept safe from him. Destructive and violent, no outlet for his frustrations in life. Ta try and knock some sense inta him, his parents signed him up fer the guard and shipped him off ta Canterlot ta train and become somepony respectable. Mission after mission, he went all over Equestria, fightin’ in the frontiers, dealin’ with civil unrest in the cities, attendin’ nobles in the castle.

“The years took their toll on him. The boy saw much in his travels. And then, on one of his frontier tours, he finally grew up. The colt became a stallion, and that stallion saw what he wanted out of life. Like discoverin’ his special talent years ago, all at once it crystallized in his mind and set the picture straight. After puttin’ down a group of rouge timberwolves all on his own, he’d saved a mare who’d always been waitin’ fer him ta show up. Once they’d crossed paths, they never parted.”

She nodded her head toward the western side of the orchard. “Now they’re over there, doin’ what they love, together, in love.” She shrugged her shoulders, let herself fall back, and rolled to standing. “A pair like that, a relationship like theirs; they were the Zap Apple couple. Some ponies just have all the luck.”

She brushed her tail across me and swayed away, the movement of her wide hips just as mesmerizing as her golden eyes. “Ah think we’ve had a long enough break. Come, Spruce, there’s still work ta be done.”

Without a word, I rose to my hooves and followed along. A Zap Apple couple, a miracle.

Lucky to be alive, huh?