The Old Green Mare

Nopony was saying anything.

Applebloom glanced sheepishly to her left, where Applejack sat at the dinner table.  Applejack munched rather loudly on the apple walnut salad that she and Granny Smith had prepared earlier.  To Applebloom’s left sat Granny Smith, silently sipping sweet tea.  Across from them Big MacIntosh, still suffering the effects of poison joke, fidgeted next to Cheerilee, who tried to look anywhere else in the room except directly at him.

“…”

“…”

“…”

Mac poked at his dinner with a hoof, as if he were trying to determine whether somepony had snuck into the kitchen and replaced his favorite meal with brimstone and treacle.  Applejack finished her salad and helped herself to another serving without uttering a peep.  Cheerilee seemed to shrink into her seat, the look on her face all but screaming “only a little bit longer, and I can go home…”

*thud.*

It wasn’t a particularly loud thump, but due to the awkward silence at the table, five ponies’ ears perked up when it occurred.

“That sounded like it came from the barn," Applejack said.

"I’mgonnagoandseewhatitwasandmakesureeverything’sOKniceseeingyouMissCheerilee…” Applebloom was out the door faster than Pinkie Pie chasing someone who broke a Pinkie Promise.

“Um… yeah, it’s probably nothin’, but I’m gonna make sure everything’s all right too,” said Applejack, quickly following her little sister.

That left Granny Smith, Big MacIntosh, and Cheerilee at the table.  Cheerilee glanced at the elderly filly, then at the stallion-turned-mare, and finally at her untouched dinner.  Her lip quivered.

“You did explain everything to Miss Cheerilee, didn’t you MacIntosh?” Granny Smith finally asked, slicing through layers of building tension.

“Eeyup,” said Big MacIntosh.

“Then why’re ya both sittin’ there like it’s the worst possible thing?”

Mac opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.  He blushed.

“He did say that Twilight Sparkle was working on fixing this,” Cheerilee offered meekly.

“She certainly is,” Granny Smith confirmed.  “Zecora will be too, as soon as she gets back from wherever it is that she scampered off to today.  Honestly, I don’t know why Twilight Sparkle couldn’t have just whipped up the cure herself from that ‘Supernaturals’ book she said she has, but—“

“—Wait a minute,” Cheerilee interrupted.  “There’s a cure?”

“Of course there’s a cure.  She used it on herself and Applejack the last time they caught it.”

“This sort of thing has happened before?” Cheerilee asked, amazed.

“I got it a couple of times, and back in those days the cure wasn’t in some fancy magic potion book.  When you got it, you waited it out earth pony style,” Granny Smith said proudly.

“As much as that gives me some relief for you, Granny Smith, it seems rather irresponsible, though, don’t you think?” asked Cheerilee.

“What does?” Granny Smith asked, confused.

“It’s just the idea that someone with spells like this could have done this to you both on more than one occasion.  I mean, the two of you seem pretty calm about it, which is understandable if the cure is so simple, but still, the recklessness of the caster seems like it should be addressed—“

“Now hold on a minute, missy.  What in tarnation are you talking about?”

“Big Mac told me that you were hit with some sort of wild magic.  He said that Twilight Sparkle was looking for a cure, but they hadn’t found one yet.  But you just said that Zecora had one.”

The pieces were starting to come together for Granny Smith.

“No, no, no, dearie,” she laughed.  “I see why you’re confused.  I was hit by the wild magic, but Mac found a patch of poison joke behind the barn.  Our conditions aren’t the same at all.”

“Oh… poison joke.  That’s one nasty weed.  You didn’t mention that part, Mac.  You had me thinking that you were both hit by the wild magic, and that you don’t know if there was a cure.”

The two females glared at Big MacIntosh, who looked like he wanted to dig a very deep hole outside the barnyard and crawl in.  Then they all started laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation.

“Now that the elephant’s been kicked out of the room, are y’all gonna eat yer dinner or what?” Granny Smith asked, wiping her brow with her napkin.  “Applebloom and I made apple fritters for dessert.”

“Oh, good.  Y’all are talkin’ again,” called out Applejack as she trotted back inside, followed by Applebloom and a white pegasus filly who was nursing an injured wing.

“Miss Cheerilee?  What are you doing here?” asked the pegasus.

“I’m having dinner with friends, Cotton Cloudy.  I could ask you the same question.”

“I flew over to see Applebloom,” Cotton Cloudy said, pawing the floor with a hoof.

“Except she crashed into the barn,” Applejack said.  “Nothing’s broken anywhere, the barn included, but that wing’s going to be sore for a bit.  That was a crash that would have made Rainbow Dash proud.”

“You really think so?” Cotton Cloudy asked eagerly.

“You bet,” Applebloom agreed.  “We could hear it from all the way in here.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting your dinner.  You guys eat earlier than me and my parents do.”

“My parents and I,” Cheerilee corrected her.

“It’s no trouble, sugar cube,” Applejack said.  “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like, there’s plenty of apple walnut salad and fritters.”

“Thank you kindly,” Cotton Cloudy said.  “I just came by to ask Applebloom if she wanted to go see a hoofball game tomorrow.  My dad won ten tickets to see the Baltimare Colts play Ponyville tomorrow.  So far, it’s gonna be me, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Archer, Pipsqueak, and Rumble.”

“No adults?” asked Granny Smith.

“Dad has to work, but he said I can bring anyone I want,” Cotton Cloudy said.

“My cousin Babs is coming tomorrow,” Applebloom said, about to decline the invitation.

“Oh, I remember her.  She’s cool.  Do you think she’d want to come?”

“No adults?” Granny Smith repeated sternly, causing Cotton Cloudy to flinch.

“I think Granny Smith would be more comfortable with Applebloom and Babs going to the game with the rest of you young’uns if there were a grown up present,” Applejack explained.  Granny Smith confirmed this with a nod.  “So do you mind if she goes too?”

“What?” asked Cotton Cloudy, Applebloom, and Granny Smith simultaneously.

“Hey, it was your idea, Granny Smith.  If you’d feel better having a grown up there, why don’t you go yourself?  It’ll be fun.  Besides, Mac and I have to work.”

“Eeyup,” said Big MacIntosh.  Cheerilee giggled.

“She’s your grandmother?” Cotton Cloudy asked, indicating the green filly.

“Long story,” Applebloom assured her.

“Well, ok, I don’t mind.  I gotta fly, though.  I have to beg Featherweight’s mom to let him come.  His dad would be all for it, but his mom’s a skosh overprotective.  See you tomorrow!” With that, Cotton Cloudy took off.

Applejack and Applebloom returned to their seats at the dinner table.  Suddenly, an odd look crossed Big MacIntosh’s face.

“Did y’all say earlier that the filly who just left crashed into the barn?” he asked.

“Yeah, around the back of it,” Applejack confirmed.  “Why do you ask?”

“Because there’s still a patch of poison joke on that side.”

“I thought you were clearing it all out,” Granny Smith said, remembering their earlier conversation.

“I got it all from the side of the barn.  The patch started at the side and went all the way around to the back.  By the time I finished, it was dark and Cheerilee was here.  I’m pretty sure I got the majority of it, and I was going to make absolutely sure in the morning.  I wasn’t expecting anypony to crash into the barn, though.”

Applejack sighed.  “I’ll run over to her parents’ house to let them know to expect something when their daughter wakes up tomorrow.  Hopefully Zecora will be back.”

~~GS~~

“This seems to have become your favorite spot lately, Granny Smith,” Applebloom said to the green filly, who was staring out of the clubhouse window again.  The window was open, and the rosy curtains gently swayed as a warm, light breeze wafted in.

“It’s peaceful up here.  It’s a place to get away, where nopony will bother you.”

“Oh, we didn’t realize—“

“You ain’t bothering me, young’uns.  This is your clubhouse after all.  I’m just borrowing it for a little bit while I can still climb up.  It’s good to see you again, Babs,” she said to the second filly who was tagging along behind her cousin.

“Likewise, ma’am,” Babs said politely, with a touch of uncertainty.

“Something wrong?” Granny Smith asked.

“I’m not sure if I should say…”

“Might as well get it out, rather than let it sit here like an elephant in the room.  I had to deal with that enough last night talkin'... or more accurately not talkin' with your cousin and his marefriend.”

“Well, it’s just that I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you.”

“You can call me Granny Smith.  Everypony does.  It's my name, after all.”

“You’re not my Granny, though.  I think you’re my first cousin twice removed.  Or maybe my great aunt.”

The green filly laughed.  “Granny Smith’s my name, dearie.  I was named after a type of apple.  Most of us Apples are.  I’ve had the name my whole life, but I haven’t always been a grandmother, obviously.”

“Oh, I thought it was a nickname.  Like Applebloom told me that the Ponyville dentist’s real name is Minuette, but everyone calls her Colgate.”

“How did this subject come up?”

“Well,” said Babs, “we were trying to see if maybe we could get our firefighting cutie marks—“ Granny Smith’s eyes went wide. “—I mean our bird watching cutie marks, and Applebloom had this idea that maybe somehow our cutie marks were connected to our name.”

“You got Princess Celestia and Princess Luna with the sun and moon respectively,” the pale yellow filly pointed out.

“Rainbow Dash has a rainbow…”

“And look at our family,” cut in Babs.  “Applejack.  Big MacIntosh. Braeburn.”

“Or Snips and Snails,” Applebloom continued.  “Diamond Tiara, Silver Spoon, Filthy Rich…”

“I see your point, and it’s an interesting concept,” Granny Smith said thoughtfully.  “I got one fer you, though, How do you explain Pinkie Pie?”

“How does anyone explain Pinkie Pie?” Applebloom laughed.

My ears are ringing…

Granny Smith laughed as well. “You know what I meant.  Pinkie Pie’s cutie mark has nothing to do with her name, although she is pink and she does work at Sugarcube Corner baking the occasional pie.  I’m green, like the apple that I’m named after, but my cutie mark is a pie.”

“That’s kind of a relief,” Babs said.

“What is?” Applebloom and Granny Smith asked together.

“When Applebloom brought it up, I was a bit worried that I’d be stuck with a seed as a cutie mark because of my name,” Babs admitted.  “I mean, it’ll be great whatever cutie mark I get, but having it predetermined by what my parents chose to call me seems kind of lame.”

“What’s wrong with your name?” Applebloom asked.  "I like your name."

“Nothing’s wrong with my name,” Babs said.  “I’m just saying that if your cutie mark is supposed to come from your special talent, but it also comes from what your name is, what kind of talent do you get from Babs Seed?  It would be like Applebloom getting a flower cutie mark even if she were really good at singing.  I like your idea better, Granny Smith.”

“My idea?”

“Well, you reassured me that the possibilities are still endless, and I can still be whatever I want… although um… bird watching is off the list for now.”

The three fillies laughed.

"We should probably get going," Applebloom said.  "The hoofball game is going to be starting soon."

"Sounds good to me," Granny Smith agreed as the three descended from the clubhouse.  "Just one thing... you're gonna tell me what's going on in this game, right?  Your brother tried to explain the concept, but it's all Greek to me."