6th hour - Carpentry

I stealthily enter the back door to the shop and peak around a jumbled pile of unusable materials to see if Mr. Forrester is around. Finding only my classmates mulling around the shop floor a long breath escapes my lips and I walk out into the open.

“Where’ve you been at?” A jock named Dalton asks me as I join him by the table saw. “I seen you leave at lunch with some girl,” he grins mischievously at me, “Did’cha get any?” he asks with a wink.

“Girl?” I stare at him with no small amount of confusion. Surely he couldn’t have mistaken Twilight for a girl… But then again the folks at Chinaland didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, man, the girl!” he nearly shouts at me, “Damn fine looking chick in a purple hoodie and skirt,” he nudges me with one massive boulder of a shoulder, “So did you score?”

“Unfortunately not,” I admit.

“Hah!” he guffaws loudly and smacks me hard on the back, “Sorry to hear that you struck out bro,” he says with a touch of genuine emotion and a heaping of sarcasm. “Don’t sweat it, bro, there’s always next time,” he tells me, wrapping an arm across my shoulders and turning me around as he does, “And lookie here, next time’s right ‘bout now!” I follow his gaze over towards the far right corner and nod patiently as he continues to talk. “Now there’s a woman!” he smacks his lips, “She’s got that whole cowgirl thing goin’ and good God does she pull it off!” with a quick pat on the back he shoves me in her direction. “Go on bro, couple of us tried and struck out so here’s your chance to redeem yoself after getting’ nowhere with that girl in purple. Go on man!” he urges me once more and I listen. Smiling to myself I near the corner of the shop where Dalton saw a beautiful cowgirl, munching on an apple and leaning against a wall. All I see is a pale orange, freckled pony, no wings or horns at all, with shoulder length bleached blond hair pulled into a…pony tail…

“Hello,” I nod my head and lean against the wall adjacent to her.

“Well, howdy,” she replies in a deep southern drawl.

“Does the name Twilight Sparkle ring a bell?” I ask casually.

“Sure does,” the cowgirl pony answers, “She just so happens to be a good friend of mine, and the reason Ah’m here, wherever here is, so how ‘xactly do ya know Twi anyhow?” she glares at me softly waiting for an explanation.

“I met Twilight, as well as Luna and Celestia, earlier today. She told me more ponies would be showing up, she also told me… eh, nevermind. It’s not that important. So how long have you been here?”

“Oh ‘bout tin, twenny minutes or so,” she tells me, “Why ya ask?”

“Well according to Twilight’s math you’ll be here no longer than an hour… by the way I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Applejack.”

“Of course it is…” I mutter beneath my breath. “So Applejack what would you like to do while you’re here?” I ask in an attempt to be hospitable.

“Well Ah’d sure love another o’ these apples,” she stops for a moment to nod at and then bite into the apple balanced on her hoof.

“I think I can arrange that,” I smile at her and beckon for her to follow me.

I walk over to a nearby table covered in boxes of FFA fruit and she trots slowly behind me.

“Here,” I toss her a bright red apple the size of a softball and sit on the little free space left on the table. “So what are you?”

“Well Ah’m an Earth pony o’ course.” She says.

“I mean what’ your job, what do you do for a living?” I ignore the immensely confusing terminology and press on with the conversation.

“I’m an apple bucker.” Applejack states with pride.

“Come again?”

“Mah brother an Ah kick the apple trees in orda ta harvest ‘em.” She expounds upon her profession.

“Ahh I see,” I lie. “So do you have your own orchard or what?”

“We sure do!” she replies enthusiastically, “Mah granny an mah brother an me all live on and work on a slice o’ paradise we call Sweet apple Acres!”

“How…odd.” My train of thought derails as an object, or more appropriately the lack of said object, becomes apparent to me. “Hey guys,” I shout to my classmates, “What happened to the band saws?” I point at the empty space near the far wall were three heavy, bladed machines had always sat together in a neat line.

“Uh,” Dalton blubbers.

“Well fuc-” Another classmate begins to swear just as Mr. Forrester walks into the shop.

“What’s this now about missing equipment?” he asks with a grim tone. I forgot how thin the wall between the shop and his office was, he must have overheard this whole… this whole conversation. The possible implications of him hearing my talk with Applejack roll off my shoulders as he storms away complaining about stolen saws and some kid named Lafe.

My fears melt away as everyone returns to their prior occupations and I look back at Applejack.

“Wanna go for a walk?” I ask, I’ve long since caring about getting in trouble with teachers as this was certainly more important than school.

“Sure thing sugarcube.” Applejack nods her head and we head for the back door. Halfway there I’m halted by a catcher’s glove of a hand and I look to see Dalton at my side.

“Nice goin’ bro,” he chuckles, patting my back and shaking my hand. As he lets go I can’t help but notice the small, bulgy foil square he’d slipped onto my palm. I can’t help but chuckle myself as I hold the door open for Applejack and toss the unneeded gift into the trash. As if anyone would want to do that with a pony!

We step out into the frosty air and I pull my mood up and over my head. Applejack seems undeterred by the sudden and frigid cold and walks alongside my as though it didn’t bother her in the least.

“So you’ve been here for almost a half an hour,” I remind her, “You’ll be heading home soon, you know.”

“Ah know,” she sighs as we meander further away from the school building. “It’s incredible here, Ah’ve never seen such… such bold colors before in mah entire life. That an those apples were downright delicious!”

“Well than take a few home with you and plant the seeds,” I offer her three of the large, red fruits and frown for a moment as my vision blurs and the objects around me blink out of existence.

“What’s a matter, sugercube?” Applejack asks, concern filling her voice.

“Uh,” I snap my eyes shut and when I reopen them all is as it should be… besides, of course, the talking horse I’m handing stolen apples to. “Nothing Apple-”

“Ya’ll can call meh AJ,” she corrects me, “Ah’ve always preferred the fellas to call meh that.”

“Sure, AJ.” I hand her the apples and jam my shivering hands back into the warm pocket on the front of my hoodie. “Now those are Earth apples so if you plant them they won’t necessarily grow true so you’ll want to…” I peak to my right but the golden orange cowgirl pony is gone. “I guess Twilight’s math wasn’t so exact after all.” I turn and walk back to the shop with me head down and my fingers interlaced behind my lower back. The cold bothers me but nearly as much as… not nearly as much as nothing. I look up and there’s Dalton standing with a stupid grin on his stupid face and holding the door open for me. I can’t help but laugh as I enter the shop and receive applause from half a dozen horny teenagers.

“Did’cha score?” Dalton asks immediately.

“Sure did,” I lie. And as I look down I see an apple shaped locket in my grip. So, in an odd, roundabout way, I did score, not in the sense my friends would like to believe but in one that I find to be much more valuable.

‘What more could this day have in store?’