Monday, August the 5th
Sun rises, kin awaken, things stay the same, and ponies stay happy. Morning, one glorious morning protrudes from them amber grass hills. And with the star driven so blessedly by the holy one so do we arise. I speak of course of mah early mornin’ tides of woe, but believe it or not, them were tears of joy. We don’t wake to the rooster no more; it’d flown off somewhere off east, feather brain. This’ll be mah first day mindin’ the land all by myself.
So I fetch mahself a breakfast an chew on it in the sweet morn’s shine. Jus’ a couple of apple fritters from last eve’s meal.
I am to work today, earn mah keep. I set my eyes on the task at hoof, I’m to propagate our largest apple tree. His name is Amis, after my great great great grandfather. This was altogether something new to me but warmed ma heart that Granny Smith would le’ me have a go. I leave the Apple Family home and go across to the fixin’ shed. I pull apart the great heavy doors and take a look inside. The blessin’ of sunshine comes through the holy roof. I think that maybe one day they figure I’ll fix that. I beg to differ; I’ve never been friendly with heights. I poke around for my tool belt, it’s snugly hidden somewhere in the shed. I search low, not high, never high, till I see somethin with my name written on it.
Well Gee whiz, wouldn’t you know it. It was right where I left it. I pick it up and wrap it round me; it was time to go to work.
I trot through them emerald fields jus cause I love doin’ it so much. I glide through those dewy blades that run frequent through the everglades till I stop stupefied by the tree name after mah Great Grandpappy. Umm Give or take a few greats, jus’ ta be safe. I am fond of this giant, who sits quiet out here alone. I love ‘im like a brother, lord didn’t see fit to bless me with another stallion sibling within a hundred miles, oh well, guess you can’t pick your family. Applejack had left a step ladder for me to use, lucky though. I’d forgotten to bring the darned thing. Then I think, Well heck, if I wanted to find the ladder it’d be out here. I’d be lookin’ fur hours. I gather up the ladder and prop it up against the trunk.
“Howdy thar’ old boy” I cheer.
He bows politely as I climb up the steps. I’d been told this propagating was to be a proclivity from now on. It was meant to help carry on the life of the tree; lord knows I loved the tree, like a brother. I pat a lazy hoof of mine on the many pockets of mah tool belt. I feel across a toothed blade and fin’ the handle at last. I go to work on the first cut. I was warned about damage I could do, I had to be careful. I begin the sawing underneath, something Applejack tol’ me about. Her an’ her fancy thinkin’ talk. I do this as not to hurt Amis. I finish this wedge and move my saw up the branch.
Not before too long ah’ve made this cut too. Good ol’ Amis, being a gentle apple tree, doffs his hat to me as ah sail of with one of his arms. I can nearly hear ‘im crying as I leave him on his lonesome. I walk a trifle then inspect the ground.
“Eeyup” I say, starting a hole in the ground.
It’s got to be at least five hooves deep so the roots can grow. I don’t break a single sweat and in record time my hole is dug. I plant the little Amis in the softest land I could care to find and pack in the loose soil at his base. I take a step back, admirin’ my work.
I smile lovingly at the new arrival, a baby apple sapling to make fur a bountiful harvest when he’s all grown up. I gaze at Amis senior and wipe the wet off my brow; I reset the ladder and begin another cut.
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By the time I am done my old friend looks bare. In the now sombre night I watch him go to sleep. Sis is still gone and I am in charge. Harvest is in but a few days.
I arrive back in the Apple Family home, Granny fumes at me for missin’ lunch. She says “a stallion needs to be keepin’ themselves going”, I argue “I think I’m done growin’!” I take mah place at the table, the head of the table. Supper smells something wonderful, I let my temperature cool and smile politely at the pot of good food. Carrots an’ cabbage and Heart’s Warming stuffin’ too, what more could a stallion ask for? I pig down the good eats and nod at my loving grandma before making for mah bed.
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Tuesday, August the 6th
What do you know; the shining white disk bursts from them amber grass hills again. No rooster yet, we had a chick now at least, Applebloom’d fetched ‘em while I was out with ol’ Amis. I get myself breakfast, though there was no need. Applebloom, my sweet tiny sis, had prepped us some porridge. I chew it while smiling and I give Bloom a neat kiss on the cheek before setting back out for the day’s work. Hmm Tuesday, what did I do on Tuesday? Ah that’s right; I was feedin’ the pigs an’ rabbits out in the fields. I go back to the shed across the way from the Apple Family home and take look. I fin’ the rusty faucet and screw the tap. I rinse my hooves till I can’t feel them in the freezing gush then screw the tap shut.
I follow the noise of oinks an’… What noise do rabbits make again? Twitchin’ maybe… Ah also follow the smell, Ooh wee I’d be darned if that smell couldn’t peel the wings off of a Pegasus. Woo. I unlock the door to the feed store and grab me a sack full o’ slurry. I hop over the fence leadin’ to the sty and fill the troughs with the even fouler smelling mulch from inside the sack. The pigs are as happy as themselves in sh… I mean muck. They munch at it as if it were sweet sweet potato pie. The rabbits make that noise they make and scurry about their run. I go back to where I keep the feed and fetch a sack full of carrots. To make ends meet we Apples have to run a… petting zoo. I leap the fence to the pen of rabbits with their cute fluffy tails and frilly tufty ears and let the carrots roll loose onto the ground.
I nearly forgot the cows again. I grab the special dietary stuff they’re on an’ bolt over to their meadow. They is mighty scary them cows, they must’ve been plannin’ something. I haul the goodness over the top fence post and fill the troughs with feed.
It’s time for the main event of today. The southernmost field is to be ploughed and cultivated for new saplings arriving from our friends in Manehatton. Our high flying cousins were sending oranges to our little corner of heaven. Havin’ another fruit crop may have been a poor choice, but I still don’t make any of the BIG decisions.
I am provided with a team two-dozen strong to tackle the hardy ground. I grip an ear of corn in my lips, I feel more like I’m in-charge when I do this, an’ give the workers their orders. Each set of hooves is attached to a plough and they drag the scoop through the land. Each worker does their day’s pay before returning to me when the work is done. Long fresh furrows lay in the soil; it has the finest tilf I’d ever felt. I shake the hoof of every last one they did such a good job.
I wave them as they leave and I return to the Apple Family home. Granny Smith is blowing steam over my missin’ lunch a second day. I settle down at the table and dig into a platter of loaded potato skins. Delish!
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Ol’ Granny Smith smacks me across the back of my hooves before I leave for bed. She sits me back down and scowls at me. What was I supposed to have done? Turns out it was time for praying, I press my hooves together and talk away in my head.
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Oh sisters hear me pray this evening. I want my little sister to be treated nice at school; I want my other sister to be back when she promised. An’ most importantly, whichever one of ya’ll is listening, please don’t make me muck out the animals tomorrow
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A bible smashes onto the table. “Mind what you’re saying to them girls up there, they take things awful literal” she warns me. I nod politely and make for my bed. Finally some sleep.
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Wednesday, August the 7th
Burning, burning, something is burning. The blessed morning rises all around, the sun seeps from behind them amber grass hills. I smell a scent of something burning down in the kitchen. I find lil’ Bloom at the stove, she must’ve been trying to cook somethin’. I grab a towel and wet it under the sink gush before smacking the fire to death with it. Lil’ bloom stands a little awkward, she looks ashamed. I wrap my hoof over her and tell her to “pay no mind to this, sa’ll jus’ learning”. I leave, no breakfast fillin’ mah tummy. I hear my stomach growling menacingly at me. It is best I don’t eat when I do this certain chore. I’m not so dumb I don’t know how things work. Cows, pigs, chickens, rabbits, sheep, eat things and then out the other end they. I don’t really need to go into detail. I clip my hoof on the muckin’ shed as I wonder in. I didn’t have to clear the fields, that’d be impossible. I was Jus’ to clear the bedding an’ such where the critters sleep. I fetch me a shovel and clothes peg an all and set off to the festering pig sty. We have seven pigs in all, one large matriarch and her little ‘uns. The mum was Mildred, then we had Sow, Martin, David, Oscar, Carla and the runt of the litter; Pork-Chop. An’ each of the seven pens wanted clearing of faecal leavings, delightful. I take a quick detour back to the house and slip on mah galoshes ‘for stomping off toward the sty once more.
Wee Doggy! What stench would jus’ peel the stripes right off of a zebra’s back. I poke mah nose over each pen before gettin’ in and shifting the mess out. I fetch a barrow from the fixin’ shed and transfer the load into it. We have a ginormous manure pile, it must’ve been taller than our house. I tip the stuff out and go check in the lil’ hutches where the rabbits are a bitin’ and a playin’. We have but three hutches, and near enough 16 bunnies all in all. I open the first door an’ scoop the straw from out of it. I risk a sniff, a mistake I realise immediately. I finish clearing the other hutches before placin’ a small saucer of little strawberry flavoured flakes I know they enjoy.
I’m done with the dirty task. I return to the Apple Family Home. I see AppleJack’s bags all set out at the door. There is three of em’. I often state how many of something there is, something to do with what the head shrink said to me. Well whatever was wrong me I was the stallion of the house and I was to carry the bags, the three bags. I take one in each fore hoof and carry the latter in my mouth, not the cleverest of solutions, but I was never the cleverest of ponies. I take the bags in but do not hear the shrieking tone of my older lil’s sister. I can’t see hoof or haunch of mah Grandmammy either. Dang, what in the world was going on here?
I later find out they were gone to market, selling a few apple batches close to going off. I sit at the end of the table and cup my head in mah hooves. I was head of the family, but right now I was a head without a body. Lil’ Bloom flicks my earlobe. I moan at her and she complains on the account of her starving. I look dotingly at her an say “I’ll see whut ah can rustle up lil missy”.
She seems happy, for now at least. I put a pot of soup on the stove and let it simmer. Bloom’s gettin’ impatient, pacin’ this way an’ that. I keep on checking the heat of the broth till its jus’ right and I pour it into some serving bowls. Well I’ll be, I actually cooked somin’. An’ to top off the evening, I don’t have to do the dishes. Today was a good day.
I kiss bloom on the forelock as I wish her good night. Ah sing a little poem our momma taught us and go back to my own bed. It was only 5pm but the harvest was after tomorrow, no way was I being a sleepy old crone for that.
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Thursday, August 8th
Ah stretch this mornin’, must of pulled something shiftin’ all the, all the droppin’s and such. I am held in a warm embrace also. My, oh my how beautiful my lil’ sis looks with the sun peeking over them amber grass hills behind her. She is positively glowin’. I push her away and we exchange some playful banter before I make for the front door and what today will bring.
Consarn my luck, I went to bed so early I didn’t notice this downpour. The land is water-logged. Bad news if you’re itchin’ to grow something. I go to where the grass meets the gravel and stamp my hoof. Jus’ as I thought, completely full o’ water. It was up to me today to visit our Manehatton cousins to see first-hand the oranges to be shipped. I’d been faxed a train ticket by my much more organised than me sister. I go back to the house and trip over my adoring lil’s sister. I curse then shut myself up. I try to plea “pay no attention to what ah jus’ said. It’s not somethin’ I want you repeating”. I look at her tears eyes; I must’ve hurt her, what kind of a clumsy oaf am I? I lean down on bended knee and place my hoof all comfortin’ like on her side.
“You want somin’ to eat lil’ slice?”
I can’t remember what she said; I assume she cheered up a mite. I remember my own empty tummy and prepare the mixture for some porridge. I place the two bowls under the heat and wait a tide before getting’ ‘em out and setting them upon the table. She takes some little spoonfuls an’ I stuff my head into the bowl. I sometimes feel I was meant to be born a pig or perhaps a dog on account I love diggin’ holes. Maybe I could sniff for them truffles the fancy places pay big bits for, might be a preferable career choice. I finish my portion and gallop away, time’s a wasting. Lil’ Bloom grasps at my tail jus’ before I leave and hoofs me Pa’s old waistcoat. Looking professional’s got a make me more favourable with the gentile folks.
I get to the station; I hear the loud whistling of the train coming to the platform. The doors slide apart and I board. I hate how ponies take one look at me an’ think I’m gonna rob ‘em. I ain’t no crafty devil Zebra, they aint go not reason to doubt me or mah intentions. I take my seat in coach and watch the world go by out of the window.
Ah Manehatton, home to the Friendly Orange Company, and home to my disapproving cousins. I’ve been stuck in a train for hours and hours on end. I leave the train, pass the rows of shying faces, and find my youngest cousin.
“Miss Babs Seed” I cheer.
She curtsies and waves a hoof in little circles for me to follow her. I’ve always had a few odd questions swimmin’ around mah head about my citrus growin’ kin. Ah keep them to mahself. Something the doctor was sayin’ about last week. Low confidence, fear of commitment, nervous gas… I really didn’t want to put myself in the public eye. No, no more feuding, I’ll sort this war between our families.
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I’m at the table now, a great long one, stretching further than the best yodeller could reach with their shrill tones. I am presented with a haul of good lookin’ food. I don’t know where to start. I poke my fork into the creamy salad till I hear one of the landed gentry scoffing at my stupidity. I must have been usin’ the wrong fork, why do we need three? I hang my hoof over the middle fork, more scoffs, I move my hoof again. I get a few of my posh cousins askin’ some questions, questions I wasn’t entirely comfortable with answering. All ah remember before the copious grapefruit wine clouded my mind was that I was shier than usual. One compliments my attire; I feel it’s of pity not actual admiration.
The adversity of the evening gets more and more severe. All the time ahm there I know I should be back at the farm, doing my duties, earnin’ mah keep. I hate this blasted frivolity so much! “I have responsibilities back at the ACRES! Now I have come to this pointless dinner, as some sort of hoof extension of friendship but now ah see it’s just a big waste of time!” I didn’t find out I said this till I see the shocked expressions on the Orange Family muzzles. We agree the terms and I leave.
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Today... Nothin' yet
Harvest:
I put down mah journal after readin’ it in the tender embrace of my train seat.
The sunlight gleams from betwixt them amber grass hills. I’m not so pleased to see ‘em this very mornin’. I luckily awaken just before the PonyVille stop. Applejack’s waiting there for me, she don’t look best pleased either.
“AppleJack?”
That’s the most I said throughout the whole morning. She drags me back to the acres and shows me the orchard pickin’ team. She confides in me that this harvest has to be done in a day. No pressure then. I think I mentioned somethin’ about never needing a team before; she assures me ah need ‘em.
I’m in charge of the collectin’ team coz sis’s got the buckin’ taken care of. We have streamlined our operation, we aint so small scale like we used to be. There are hundreds of carts to carry the thousands of baskets to be filled by the eighty odd contractors. I jack up one of the 243 carts and spin a wheel, I always did this check. I press down all mah weight onto the bottom of a couple of the 5,624 baskets. Ah go to a bell that’s been wheeled out, already hearin’ the sweet commotion of buckin’ in motion. Time to send the 85 willing, I might add, handsomely paid farm hands out to do their duty. As always it fell to me to chime the bell to start this part of our production line. We had a load of carts spare, 158 to be exact. Although not all our temps would be pullin’ a cart, I wanted a ratio of one puller to three collectors.
Now, let’s see…
{20 X3=60 + 20= 80, 21 X3=63 + 21=84}
Damn.
One left over. They leave in their smaller contingents off after the buckin’ team. Now on a different matter I was concerned that we didn’t have enough baskets. We was harvesting the southern orchard at first, a plot 480 apple tree’s strong. Hmm, each tree grows a crop normally of 15-26 apples, so as a generalisation; 20.5 apples per tree.
So…
That’d be 9840 apples in total. But that’s a lil’ spurious.
Then we need to turn over the crop in the eastern orchard. This was our largest plot by far. It spanned seven acres, seven acres of apples. So, it havin’ 1,280 trees upon it makes…
Ummm, now I might need a fresh pair of eyes to look at this.
Umm on another note the trees here were awful fertile, each producin’ a crop of 30-45 apples per tree. So as a nice easy average that’d be 37.5 apples per tree. I speak in numbers but a half an apple is less use than one hoof mitten.
It takes some serious number crunching, most of which I used an abacus for, but I soon arrived at a guestimate for the total toll of apples.
Forty eight thousan’, that’s a big ask. On top of the pickin’s from the southern orchard that’s a grand total of, huh, close to 60,000.
Each basket carries a volume of 48 apples ‘fore it starts spilling over. So we have 5,624 baskets, an’ near 60 thousand apples to decant. Holy mother of mercy, this is becoming a chore all in itself. I get some paper to do the workings, don’t want to make any mistakes at this point.
Turns out I prepared too well, I only needed 1250 baskets. And each cart carries seven baskets. So if each puller pulls a cart and collects their apples, and there are 21 of ‘em, then the carts need to be filled, taken back, refilled with baskets and so on nine times.
My train of thought is scuppered by the groans of my sis.
“Now, when I asked you to prepare this I expected you to use your noggin”
“I did, I just figured, more is better. To have too much is better than to have not enough”
“Yeah well how much time did you waste pullin’ 200 carts that weren’t needed out here? How much time did you waste carryin’ about 3000 baskets out here? They’re all just takin’ up space big brother. You know we need that space for the sortin’ team” she speaks down to me.
“I understand sis, le’ me get a word in edgeways”
“Well I’m gonna have ta leave you here to take care of things. The delivery of orange tress comes in jus over an hour. Ya think you can handle things here?”
“Eeyup, them trees will be stripped of apples by the time you come back” I promise.
She lets me alone, headin’ off for the road. I turn myself around and see the huffing sortin’ team. They’re blowing brimstone over the lack of space. I get started moving all the unneeded supplies back into the fixin’ shed. By the time I am done the first wave of apples arrive. I’d left exactly 1250 baskets for the sorted apples to be dispensed into. I help the first tier of the sorters unload the collected fruit and empty the baskets into the vast sortin’ trough. I supervise the farm hands as they go about their tasks, I feel as I have been put in a position of power I should give myself some time to relax and reflect.
The pullers set off for the orchards again. I gaze into the rouge filling of the sortin’ trough. Jus’ think of all the good these apples will do:
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Apple Jam, apple chutney, sweeeet apple pie, apple juice, apple tarts, apple martini if you’re tryin’ to look smart, apple crumble, apple extract, apple flavoured popsicles, apple scented candles, apple tinted toilet roll. So many wonderful possibilities!
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“Oh hey there ol’ boy, looks like you’re on your last roots. After whut happened to Pa I caint let you wither and fall. Imma have to chop you down Amis, I’m sorry”
The farm hands are a gathering at my rump. They have finished this orchard, they look pretty darn proud about it too.
“Alright Ya’ll, swell job! Now yous can take a break iffin you need to, the East field is a mighty undertaking”
I give them some time to rest, about half an hour should do. I decide it’s a little soon to chop down mah old friend, maybe I could wait till my orange cousins came by and give him a proper send off.
Time’s a wasting and it’s about time the contractors stop their procrastinating. I strike the bell to signal end of break, a few moans an’ groans but they know who the boss is. So the pullers get their backs a ready to take back on the burden of the apple haul. The collectors grab a final drink of soothin’ apple juice before following the pullers. The Buckers have already reached the hallowed eastern orchard; they wait for me to pull my hoof socks up.
I send my company away with another chime of the bell.
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I spend a vast portion of mah evening overseeing the last dregs of apples comin’ down from the trees. I pay our sprayers and wave the collectin’, buckin’ and sortin’ teams off. I finished checking the apples for damage and pulled a couple of carts that had been left in the eastern orchard back to base.
I get back to Amis after a quick visit to the house for some supplies, axe in hoof. Night will soon be upon us. I hope Applejack is coping with the orange trees. I unfold my sleepin’ bag and crawl inside. I for once stand witness to the heroic star hiding behind them amber grass hills.
I stay by Amis all night, I don’t care what anypony thought. They can think what they will; they’ll never understand how much I care for this tree. Just before I go to sleep I stroke the bark of the giant, he is a wizened old man now. Some of his bark pulls away with my stroking; I shake the flakes off and gently drift away.
The next day the sun bleeds over them bloody scarlet hills, for before this day fell I had ended the life of mah old friend. My arms are heavy, my back askew. He has been a fair match for my wood axe. He is now only a log, he still has some of his leaves, but he stands proud no longer. That’s why I was helping grow more trees from him; he was not long for this world. Nature’s cruelty don’t stop coz you ask it to. I’d been sayin’ little prayers in my spare time hopin’ he would return to glory. I’m a sentimental, simple type.
I am startled by mah sister, shy aint the sympathetic type.
“Hey, corn for brains” she yells.
“Eeyup?” I reply, flinching at her sudden appearance.
“It’s a tree. Not your friend and certainly nothin’ to crah about” she lectures, prodding the dead husk of Amis with a hoof.
“Did you want something sis?” I ask, rolling my sleeping bag up.
“Yeah as a matter of fact I do. What’s your deal? Leavin’ me to sort the orange orchard all by mahself?” She demands.
“I was under the impression you like going it alone” I pluck a leaf, still some life remaining in it, and hide it upon myself.
“I know we gotta run things by ourselves, but I still need you big brother” she says, hugging me. If it were out of pity or out of love, I’ll never know.
“I know, you don’t need to say anything more. How did it go?” I ask, stuffing the sleeping bag back in its sack.
“How did what go?” she asks, questions answered by questions. She holds the bag between her thighs to help me rehouse the sleeping bag.
“The ‘deal’ of sorts” I grunt, shunting the item inside till the draw cord can be pulled.
“Do you wanna see it?”
“Yeah, that’d be nice”
We go hoof in hoof to the newly established orange pasture. There are 500 saplings, all waiting to be heavy with fruit. The cousins of orange are long gone, already back on the road. She turns to me and readjusts her hat.
“You go into town Macintosh; we need some Pegasi to spray this land” she suggests, maybe she ordered me to. I didn’t have time to speculate or think on the matter.
“Right you are” I reply, skipping off towards the market square.
I get to the square an’ most stalls are only jus’ closin’. I call out to the denizens “Any Pegasi wanting 15 bits! We are lookin’ for Pegasi to help at Sweet Apple Acres!”
I have some joy. Notably, Rainbow Dash comes to lend a hoof. It was awful nice of her considerin’ she’d been working all day in the cloud clearing trade. We don’t have a moment to speak, no time to shoot the breeze between us old friends. I lead my volunteering pegasistance back to the acres and tally off some orders. They shoot off ahead of me without so much a solitary howdy do.
I come back into the Apple Family Home at the end of the day. I straighten a portrait of my Granny Smith and go to the kitchen. Apple Bloom was told to stay out our way durin’ the harvest, she did well to. Applejack joins us at the table and removes a cloche from a plate of food. Underneath is something beautiful, sweet, sweet potato pie! A little yam mash on the side, a dollop of smooth parsnip gravy as well as the crispiest fries you ever did see.
We don’t need telling twice, me an’ bloom forsake our dignity and shovel forkful after forkful of sweet gravy smothered pie into our cake holes. Ah help AJ with the dishes, I’m glad to. She had prepared such a delicious meal for us, it’s the least I could do.
I take lil Bloom up to bed and read her a story Ma had taught us.
“Once upon a silver moon, there was a little filly, just like you AppleBloom. She would always shy away from those who would tease her about the trim of her clothes. She would never tell her older kin, she liked to keep it to herself, keep it hidden. But what the little filly would not see is that her family cares for her, always and forever, trust me. But she would not be a tattle tale for she feared it like she would go to jail. But little Bloom, don’t ever assume that you’re destined to fail. But you see, on that silver mooned night the filly rolled and thrashed in her nightmarish fright. But she can sleep well knowing so true, her brother and sister will see her through"
Sleep tight little mite. I’ll see ya in the mornin”
I got to my own bed, take a read of my journal and fall gently to sleep.
The price of one apple
Apples go to market today, in more ways than one. We’re apples and we’re selling apples, poetic in some far flung way. The life giving sunshine brightens up this morning, rays splinter through the gaps in between them amber grass blades sitting on them hills. I yawn, but it’s pleasant. I make for the kitchen and reap some more of seed AJ has sown. She has made us all a delightful fruit salad. I paw at an apple slice before selectin’ a grape. Bloom fervently scoffs up her apple slices, it’s the only fruit she’ll eat. We finish our breakfast and I, Bloom, an’ AJ put on our apple sellin’ aprons.
I and AJ load the heavy loader carts to the brim with the sorted apple stock. I actually didn’t count how many there were. It takes the best part of an hour before we can close up the carts and give the driver’s the all clear.
I pat the cab of the last cart an’ send it on its way. Me and mah sisters travel to the PonyVille market on hoof. We sent some of the stock to the wholesalers, some to the market, and the rest is to be shipped to lands flung afar. I am given the chance to prove myself of use, I march into the Organic Market and haggle on prices.
“So you’re tellin’ me you’ve got 10,000 apples, organically raised and healthy?” the manager asks.
“That’s about the size of it” I confirm
“I’ll take 3 g’s off of your hooves for say, fifteen hundred bits”
“No deal! That’s half a bit an apple” I snarl back at him.
“And…”
“And I’m not making friends here, Give me a satisfactory offer or I’ll take my family’s business elsewhere”
“Okay Smartass! Thousan’ bits, how dare you be so rude?” he says, spittle spewing from betwixt his rotting teeth.
“Oh real funny, I want 1 an’ a half bits per apple” I explain, holding a supple apple in my hoof.
“Impossible”
“Let me cut you a deal, I think you’ll find it acceptable. We like customers who pay for what they order. If you take all 10g’s off of me now I’ll lower the price to 1 bit an apple. Considerin’ your mark-up you’re still sittin’ pretty” I try to be as clear as possible.
“What is the other choice?” he asks while brushin’ something out from his mane.
“The less you buy, the more I’ll charge per apple. Understood?” I say, squeezing some juice from the apple.
“How about I take 5g’s instead?” he bleeds.
“That’ll cost you 10,000 bits”
“Listen pal, I know you want me to buy all the stock. But what the heck am I gonna do with 10,000 fresh apples?” He asks, his eyes dart around as if searching for assistance.
“You look like a smart stallion, work it out” I say, splitting the apple into segments and throwin’ them at him.
“This is goddam extortion!” He ridicules whilst wiping the juice off of his distinct muzzle.
“You place the order! You face the music! Now I am not taking no as an answer! I came in here with 10,000 apples and I’m gonna leave with none” I yell at him, stomping my hoof to emphasize my behest.
“I haven’t the funds at this moment” he tries to appeal to my kind nature.
“Ok, I can do with maybe leaving with half the stock. But that will be at 1 and a half bit per item”
“Okay, okay. Seven an’ a half, that’s fair” he concedes, an agreement met.
“Been a pleasure doin’ business with you”
“And to you to”
I leave him as my delivery team unload the apples into his storage room. I got back to AJ, she has an expression of pride drawn all over her face.
“Alight” she begins. “Get your rump down the market and see what the smaller merchants are offerin’. We don’t forget the small business pony, remember”
“I most certainly do” I answer.
She sets me up with a cart of maybe 300 apples and sends me up the lane. I trot at a leisurely pace past the commons ponies movin’ around town and the busy market stall owners settin’ up. I meet with a kind old mare, she know our family well. I always do her a special price, considerin’ she has been doing business with us for near 20 years now.
“G’mornin’ Miss Waddle” I cheer.
“Oh my, how you’ve grown” she gushes.
“Why thank you, same as usual?” I gesture to the apples I’ve been pullin’.
“Yes, 200 of your scrumptious apples please” she gleams, fetching a purse from her person.
“Absolutely Miss”
“It’s Mrs, sonny” she corrects.
“Oh… Mah apologies”
“Don’t worry none, how much for the bushel?” she opens her purse, siftin’ through the coinage inside
“Well Mrs Waddle, that’ll be… Let’s call it 50 bits” I say, finally stepping up to where I should be.
“That’s mighty charitable” she weighs her purse.
“Not at all, we need to keep our loyalist customer sweet”
“Well aint you a darling?” she beams, tipping a sum of 50 gold coins out on to the stall counter.
“Think nothin’ of it Mam, jus’ doing my job” I am modest as I count up the coinage.
I bid her good day and walk over to the next stall.
“Howdy there my good sir” I greet.
“Ahh those look good” he brown-noses; I can virtually see the thirst in his eyes.
“Good? These here are the finest examples of apples in all Equestria”
“Don’t be so cocky, get ya in to trouble” he advises while checking the stock I have left.
“I aint makin’ it up, just ask any one of my satisfied customers” I assure him, pointing to a few of the Apple Family clients across the way.
“Eh, I’m only joshin’ you. I know you only grow the best” he laughs at my confusion.
“Damn straight!”
“So, you got maybe a hundred left in there?” He scratches his chin.
“Eeyup, an’ maybe a few spare”
“Interesting, well what you chargin’ these days?” He produces a few purses of coins from upon his person.
“We like to keep the smaller business goin. We have an agreement so to speak”
“Okay then. 50 bits for a hundred” he hopefully offers.
“That’ll do nicely, at half a bit an apple; you couldn’t find a better deal”
“Much obliged sir, give my regards to your sister” He says as he holds out a purse of coins.
“I’ll pass on the sentiment, have a good day sir” I reply as I take them.
“And to you to”
I wave as I leave and return to my sister’s side. She is pleased with my progression since I used to be so shy. I used to be not too far from being a dribblin’ hermit. The recent air of urgency has me changin’ for the better though. My lil sis turns to me, still a look of pride slapped across her face.
“You’re doing so well big brother. If only…” she begins before I cut her off.
“Don’t fret AJ. It doesn’t need to be said” I dote to her, patting her gently on the snout.
“Thanks…” She swats my hoof away.
“For what?”
“For everything, this harvest would have failed if it weren’t for you”
“No, it was down to everypony” I rub the back of my hoof against the other.
“I sorta knew that” she looks down, deflated.
“Well, how much left is there to trade?”
“45 thou”
“So you went to the wholesalers then?” I ask some, rhetoric apparent in my tone.
“Yeah, there’s one more thing ah need you to do” she reaches out with her small orange hoof and places it on my shoulder.
“Go on…”
“in’ernational trade makes up most of the acres’ profits. I’m gonna need you to go to our trading representative in Canterlot and agree on a price” she explains to me, patting her hoof on my face as the don of the mob would do.
“Wasn’t it previously agreed?”
“It was. But times are tight at the minute”
“When do you want me to go?”
“It’ll take a day for the apple carts to reach the Kingdom. You’ll have to be there… Tomorrow”
“Ah don’t think that’s right” my voice quietens.
“The farm’ll go under if yah don’t. Our home, where’s your lil’est sister gonna live then?”
“But…” I start, more sheepish than ever.
“No! I’m sure she would understand”
I cut my day short and return back to the empty dinner table of the Apple Family Home. Lil Bloom was back in school now. At least she didn’t have to shoulder the burden, it wouldn’t be fair. I chew at the wood of the table, sucking greedily the air. A terrible habit, but it took my mind off of things. I put myself to bed without supper, I felt full enough with regret and air to think about eatin’. It’s pretty early, but I don’t wanna face Bloom. AJ can deal with all of AppleBloom’s needs. I close my eyes and once more drift along into a land of dreams.
The sun bleeds over them amber grass… Oh fuck it. This morning is gonna suck. I go downstairs and not a soul is awake. There is no food in the pantry, no sounds to be heard and to put the black coal of a cherry on top, it’s raining again. I plod through the mudded streets and along the empty town lanes before reachin’ the station. The Canterlot Express is only just pulling in, but still something else weighs heavily on mah mind.
I board and find a seat as far away from the other commuters as is physically possible. The train ride is a grind; it scrapes along those rails like they were thousands of years old. I am alone with my anguished thoughts for hours before I finally reach the gilded gates and golden towers of Canterlot. I get off at St Lumis station and wonder into town. Our international representative is one Filthy Rich. He’s the father of Diamond tiara and the soul owner of Equestra ‘n’ Global Corporation. He has connections all throughout these lands, it’s vital I speak with him. I don’t search for long in the polished stone rows of streets before I find the stallion and am sent through up to his office by the reception mare.
“Mr Rich? I’ve come about the, ummm… trading” I say, settling into a chair in his office.
“Ahh, Macintosh Apple I assume” he correctly addresses, taking his seat at the bureau.
“Eeyup”
“How much product are we talkin’ about here?” he gestures out of the window to the convoy of apple carts.
“Close ta 45,000” I reply, cupping my hooves together.
“That’s quite the haul. Now you have to bear in mind I take into account transit charges and man hours for shipping” he says, producing an abacus and some note paper from a draw in his desk.
“I understand sir”
“As a settlin’ point, I can’t go higher than 1 bit an apple” he conquers, checking his workings.
“That’s perfectly fine”
“We’ll call it 46 big ones. Agreed?” He postulates, placin’ his mathematical equipment back under his desk.
“Sounds perfect” I say while hoofing him a quill and a pot of ink.
“Now, come to think of it. I’m the one stickin’ their neck out here. What if it goes on the chopping block?” he starts, pushing the writing fixin’s back towards me.
“I don’t quite follow” I query.
“What if I can’t shift all this stock? I’m takin’ a gamble here” he misers, pushing his chequebook out of reach.
“I thought we’d done business before”
“That we have. But I have never seen so many apples in my 40 loong years”
“So there’s a problem?”
“Of sorts, I need insurance. I need some fall back in case… things don’t go so smoothly” he says, tapping a rhythm on the desk.
“Well pretty much all the pony population is vegetarian. Why would there be a problem selling apples?” I ask, leaning towards Filthy Rich in a ready to listen sort of way.
“Because you’re not the only folks around who grow them” he replies, baring his teeth a little.
“So, what exactly are you getting’ at?!” I demand, growing impatient. I push myself above the desk and glare down at him.
“If I can’t sell half the apples, I get mah money back” he posits, rising to my level.
“Take a walk sir! You need to rethink your sales patter!” I shout, smashing a hoof down on his varnished desk.
“Listen son, I’ve been doing…” he begins, swatting my hoofs from under me.
“Excu – you do not refer to me as such” I say, growing more and more frustrated with him. I shove his files and fax machine right off of the desk.
“And you don’t fuckin’ undermine me!” He rebukes, navigating around the table and swinging his hooves at me.
“I am not being pushed around by the likes o’ you!” I say, pushing him back.
“The likes of me? The fuck you think you are?” he says, flipping my chair away.
“I know I got more integrity in my shit than you have in your entire constitution” I glower at him as I plough him up against the wall.
“You get out of my office, else I call security!” he threatens. He slips through my hooves like the serpent he is and returns to his place at his desk.
“Actually I think I’ll stay a spell” I reply, circling around his desk and leaning at the corner.
“Sec…” he tries to call his muscle but I cram a hoof into his pie-hole and send him onto the floor.
“Now… Imma make this nice and clear. So clear even somepony with their head stuffed up their ass as far as yours will have no problem understandin’” I say, picking him up by the scruff of his shirt.
“Please” he squirms “name your terms”
“You will pay 2 bits per apple, and you will think yourself lucky”
“B-but what if I can’t shift them?”
“Then I hope you got a big appetite!” I jest, throwing him back into his desk chair which too rolls back a spell.
“Please be reasonable” he cries, shuffling back to his desk.
“You wanna know what…”
I hold my tongue. He doesn’t deserve to hear what happened. He’s a no good weasel and he was to be treated as such. I put ‘im nicely back down at his desk and he gets his chequebook.
“Now bare this in mind, if that bounces I’m gonna break every bone in your body”
“Come on now. You know I’m good fur it” he cowers.
“I can’t trust a snake in the grass like you”
He finishes the cheque and hoofs it over to me. I nod as I leave his office and descend back down to the polished stone streets below.
I make a b-line back for the station and leave with the money safely encompassed in the flimsy slide of paper. The train pulls away and so too does part of me. The part of me who fled at the sound of danger and hid at the call of action was far behind me now. I have another snooze on the long travel back to PonyVille but again, as a stroke of luck, wake just in time for last stop in PonyVille. I leave the steam engine, caboose and cab and amble back to my home.
I reach the homely smells, even the rich stank of manure warms my nostrils. I step lively along the gravelled path till I meet nose to nose with AJ. She’s all in black, makeup smeared on her face. It signals something strange to see my usually nude faced sis all dolled up with nowhere to go. I know what I have missed, but other things needed my attention. I nuzzle her in a brotherly like way, jus’ to show I care about her. She reciprocates my affection and we both walk into the house. AJ must’ve had to break the news to lil Bloom. She looks heartbroken.
“Hey there Lil…” I begin, closin’ the door quiet behind me.
“Quit Panderin’ me” she returns the sentiment without so much a ribbon or cheery hello.
“Am sorry, we wanted to tell you, we did” I try to get through to her.
“Give ‘er some time Mac, she needs it” AJ butts in as she often does.
“Ya’ll kept it from me, ya’ll made me look a fool” she turns from us, she’s ashamed of us.
“We cannot be sorrier for that lil…” I start, my words cut short by my younger sibling.
“Stop callin’ me that! No wonder my blank remains bare! Stop talking to me like a foal” she bites at nothing, grinding that nothing between her teeth.
“AppleBloom, we’re both very sorry”
“Ah told you big brother, she needs some…”
“Time? Like all the time you’ve had? You should’ve jus’ told me” she tears at the eye.
“We didn’t know how you’d take it” AJ explains, going to comfort her baby sister.
“It was fur the best” I add, feeling like a third wheel, something not too different to what I’m accustomed to.
“Ah don’t need your sympathy, it won’t bring her back” she retreats closer towards the stairs.
“We miss her too”
“You’ve had longer to come to terms. I was left in the dark” her back leg presses against the first step.
“We’re…”
“Just leave me alone. I do need time, you’re right” she plonks herself on the first step before she gallops up to her bedroom and slams the door shut. I turn to my mascara faced sister and we share a solemn look.
“What was it like?” I break the silence.
“It was… Just fine” she sighs, cradling the door frame like a new-born foal.
“Oh… Did many ponies attend?” I continue to badger her.
“It was pretty short notice for most ponies” she turns back to face me, her hooves still clasped on the door frame.
“Well you can never plan thes…”
“I know you can’t plan. Life’s unpredictable, you don’t know when you are gonna go”
“I’m sorry”
“Don’t be, I’m just dispacin’ things at you”
“It’s okay, use me as a punchin’ bag. Buck me straight up in the face. Just don’t lose it in front of her”
“She wants reality right? Well here’s a big slap in the face of reality”
“Ease her in, okay”
“You always know what to say”
“Jus’ sit yourself down, I’ll get us something to eat”
I kiss her on the nose and lead her to the sittin’ room before setting myself up in the kitchen. I think on what I should prepare. Maybe a nice simple salad or a full roast spread of root vegetables. I decide on the first, I’m beat from todays’ proceedings as well. I gather up what leaves an’ herbs we have left in the pantry and arrange them in a large porcelain bowl. I cut a few tomatoes and chop up some onions finely and add them as well. Next I cube a clove of garlic and grate some ginger root and add them both to the concoction. I try to stop the addition of too much salt as I start to ball into the mixture. I take my head away and weep into the sink.
I carry the finished salad to where AJ is sittin’ on the couch. I pop it down in front of her and stand in the doorway. I just watch her, making sure she doesn’t choke or it, on purpose or by accident. I spend the rest of the day with AJ, we talk about the times we used spend all together as a family. We laugh at the high points and look back at the low points as example that we’ve been through hardships before. Neither of us leave the house, there’s no need to. The hours tick away on the old grandfather clock, the sun makes its rounds and soon the moon takes up its spot in the sky. Jus’ before I go off to bed, through some delusion or other malefactor, AJ breaks out in a slow song.
\/ \/ \/ \/
All through times of hard and times of smooth
We will always know you are there
Somewhere up above us
Looking down to this plane
Watching each day
As they whittle away
I know we must be strong
I don’t mean to fuss
But the thought of being alone
It feels so wrong
But struggle we must
No weaknesses will we shown
A house without a family is not a home
She curls up, crying on the corner of the couch. I tuck up alongside her and hold her warmly. I don’t want her to feel so remote no more.
“But what would they say AJ. If they saw us, they’d be proud”
“Proud of what exactly?”
\/ \/ \/ \/
Down there, far below
Beneath the streetlights, how they glow
They will never ever know
How proud we are
/\ /\
I get up from the couch and lift AJ’s sobbing head with a hoof.
\/ \/ \/ \/
We’d help if we could
But we are far from you now
We’re sorry we didn’t say goodbye
And if you feel mortified, know that I bid you farewell
/\ /\
AJ climbs from her wallow and brightens up a touch.
“You see sis. They’re watching over us”
“Really?” she looks up, an expression of loss on her face.
“How could I lie to you?”
We don’t speak for the rest of the evening. AJ goes off to her room and leaves me downstairs. I walk to the great Victorian window and finish the words of the song.
\/ \/ \/ \/
For eventually, Celestia forbid
You’ll join us all here
In the kingdom in a cloud
High up above the stratosphere
An’ we hope you live your dreams
An’ we hope you go about them well
Dear Gods, Royal sisters! I beseech to thee!
Oh I’m sorry, awful sorry that I did not say farewell
I send myself up to bed. I don’t need to read, I can’t even shut my eyes. I roll about on my sheets like I did as a colt. I dread to see another day, but there was no fighting it. I’d like to think that song had some meaning. It’s what Granny taught us when our parents died. I fall asleep.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The sun has not yet broken through the clouds, it has not yet reached them amber grass hills.
Burning, burning! Something is burning again. I head straight for the stairs and see a billowing of smoke. AJ is tryin’ to tame the blaze with a wet towel, it was working, it was just too little too late. I pull her away and cradle her once more, I usher for lil’ Bloom to come back inside. She is despondent, closed like a flower during the col’ winter months. I walk with AJ to the iron tub which belches smoke and peer into its recesses.
There were photos, an’ keepsakes and memories wrapped in a licking of flame, inside a tattered burlap sack. I kick the tub over and stomp the embers out before a whining comes from lil Bloom.
“I wanted it all to go away. Memories are poison!” She throws up a tantrum.
“Now that is not true! Memories are all we have”
“That’s every last one of them, every image of her” she giggles dementedly.
“How’d you even make the fire?”
“I aint stupid! You two think I’m dumber than a sack of pigs but I got more sense than the both of yous!”
“We believe you AppleBloom, come back to the house now” I ask, whimpering slightly as I do.
“I don’t wanna be alone” she weeps “I wan’ them awl back”
“We know you do. But this’s jus’ the way things are now”
“I miss em”
“I’m sure they miss us to” I comfort.
“Come on back to the house now AppleBloom” AJ coaxes, leaving a helping hoof out. She hopes the little mare will see reason.
“Yeah” she whispers, leaving the smouldering pile of memories nothing more than a puddle of slag.
No matter the strife we still made doubly sure she was ready for school and sent her off on her way. If she’s given too much time off she’ll never go back. AJ gives me a concernin’ look and takes me into the sittin’ room.
“We have to be like parents now, you know that?” she says to me as Bloom heads out of earshot.
“I don’t know if I’m ready” I admit, pawing my face with a hoof.
“We have to be. She needs something”
“Huh… Right as always” I say, looking peacefully at her.
“you never explained to her what happened” I add before AJ can speak.
“What’s to tell?” she asks, shying into the non-existent shadows.
“Everything”
“We were at market… and well she died. Simple as” she unravels as she regales me, the memory must be painful.
“Did she have any last words?” I ask, fighting back a waterfall of tears.
“Yeah, it was something along the lines of ‘don’t be eyeing my apples ‘less you gonna buy somint’”
“Seems about right” I laugh, some levity floating in the sea of despair.
“What would you have said?”
“What?”
“If you could’ve said something at the funeral…”
“If I were at the funeral”
“What would you have said?”
“My Grandmammy did such an amazing job at raising her two granddaughters, an’ I kinda raised myself. I always loved her, I will always love her, and I miss her every day” I recite, it sounds rehearsed but I literally just made it up.
“Thanks”
“What for this time?”
“Jus’ for being there for me” she slurs her words a little as she plants her lips on to mine.
Later on the sun sets under those amber grass hills.
My bed remains empty.
Things have to carry on.
I kiss AJ on the lips, a parting gift but she heaves me back on to her.
There is no light over the acres.
This act will blacken my soul for ever.
Those who are dead watch from above.
Are you proud of us now?
