by G. M. Berrow
“Sorry, Applejack, it’s all my fault. After the contest, I asked Big Mac to help fix some broken floorboards in the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse.”
Big Mac nodded. “Eeyup.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “And that took all evening?”
“Well… no… after that, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were supposed to have an Alicorn tea party—we all wear wings and horns and drink tea and pretend we are the four princesses of Equestria,” Apple Bloom said excitedly. “I was being Princess Luna! See?” She pointed her hoof at her fake horn and wings, fashioned out of dark blue construction paper. They were lopsided and strapped on with some twine. “And we needed somepony to be Princess Cadance and Big Mac was there, so we asked him if he would and he said—”
“Eeyup.” Big Mac shrugged with a sheepish smile and turned to show Applejack his pink paper wings.
Applejack gave them another stern look. “I’m glad you two had fun, but was it really fair to make Granny wait to eat dinner?” She gestured to Granny, who looked completely content.
“Really, I’m fine, sugarcube,” Granny said, but Applejack didn’t even hear her. It was hard to stop the Applejack train once it left the station.
Apple Bloom whimpered. “But, Applejack! I didn’t mean to—”
“Say you’re sorry, Apple Bloom,” Applejack insisted. Big Mac and Granny Smith exchanged a concerned look. Sometimes Applejack got too carried away with her “family rules.”
Apple Bloom raised her eyebrows and forced the words out, trying to lay it on thick. “I’m reeeeal sorry, Granny.”
“Good. Now let’s eat.” Applejack looked satisfied. “I have somethin’ exciting to tell all of ya!” The ponies took their seats as Granny reheated the stew. Was it Applejack’s imagination or did her family all seem annoyed with her? Maybe the spicy carrot concoction was just what they all needed to warm up the chilliness in the room.
Oh well, Applejack thought. Somepony has to be the disciplinarian around here. If she didn’t hold this family together, it would fall apart faster than a jalopy with a missing axle. Applejack took a large gulp of stew. “So, do y’all want to hear my news or not?”
After dinner, Applejack decided it was still a bit too early to hit the hay. But which task from her long to-do list to complete? She had just settled on going to the barn to prep the wagons for tomorrow’s work in the orchard when Granny pulled her aside.
Applejack fidgeted. “What is it? I’m mighty busy right now.” She’d had enough of dillydallying. It was time to get her hooves dirty—at least a little bit before she called it a night. She pictured the Best of Equestria blue ribbon emblem that would be stamped on all their apple crates after they won the award. It was going to look five ways from fancy!
“Just follow me, dear.” Granny started up the creaky wooden stairs toward the farmhouse attic. “I got somethin’ I have a mind to show ya.”
Applejack hated the attic. It gave her the heebie-jeebies, the hootie-jooties, and even the humble-jumbles. “I’ll just wait down here, thanks.”
“Whatever suits ya.” Granny chuckled and slowly climbed the rest of the stairs. She pulled the creaky attic door. Her head disappeared into the dark void, but her hooves remained on the top step. It reminded Applejack of the campfire story Rainbow Dash had told on their camping trip about the Headless Horse. Nope and no, thank you, ma’am. Applejack shuddered.
“Nothin’ to be afraid of up here but a whole lotta apple crates and cobwebs!” Granny Smith’s voice was muffled. “Now where did I put that ole’…?” She threw an old, moth-eaten knit blanket down the stairs, and it landed on Applejack’s head. She swiped it away, and several broken fiddles tumbled down. “Fiddle-faddle!” said Granny in frustration. “I just know it’s up here somewhere.” An old pony doll tumbled out and landed on one of the fiddles. It gave a weak twang.
“Do ya need help?” Applejack asked. She craned to see what Granny was moving around up there, but it was too dark. “Was it a toy pony like the one I’m holdin’?” Applejack picked up the old pony doll, and a wave of nostalgia washed over her. The cowpony wore a hat like hers—except his was bright green. His coat was red, and his mane was dark brown. He had a lasso cutie mark. It was her toy from when she was just a little filly! She’d named him Yeehaw. Back then, she’d carried him everywhere with her—playing on the farm and pretending to be two real cowponies. Yeehaw looked a little worse for the wear now. I wonder… thought Applejack. She lifted up his back left cowpony boot. Sure enough, the inscription was still there: A.J.
Applejack set the doll down on the ground. What was she doing wasting time thinking about the past when she had so much work to do in the here and now? Applejack gathered up the fiddles and stacked them neatly in the corner. They’d actually be useful in the next hoedown, which was scheduled for that very weekend. That is, if they won the Best in Equestria Award. Otherwise, Applejack doubted she’d be in the mood to party.
“Granny, I’d love to stay here all night, but I have to get to work,” Applejack said, throwing Yeehaw onto her back.
“Got it! Just help me down,” Granny Smith exclaimed, reaching out a shaky hoof. When her head popped back out, there was a weathered brown book in her mouth. “I thought you might get some good use out of this old thing.” Granny wiped the dust away from the cover. The chocolate-colored leather looked like it had seen better days. There were a few apple cider stains on the back, and the pages inside were yellowed at the edges. But it was sturdy, bulky, and not unlike the journal she shared with her friends. It was actually pretty neat!
“What’s this?” Applejack had never seen it before.
“It was your mother’s when she was yer age,” Granny explained. “For a while, the little sugarcube used to carry it around the orchard, drawing pictures of everything in sight! Until she found somethin’ else to fascinate her. I think after that she was interested in bird-watching.…”
It was her mother’s! Applejack’s heart began to beat faster as she lifted the cover. Sure enough, the first dozen pages were filled with doodles and drawings. There were sketches of everything from apple trees to old rickety fences, and a farm dog that looked a lot like Winona. Applejack turned the page. There was a drawing of a much younger-looking Granny Smith. Applejack recognized her from all the old family pictures. It was like opening a little family time capsule.
“But I’m not much of an artist.…” Applejack thought back to art class at the Ponyville Schoolhouse. The teacher, Pastel Palette, had told Applejack that the painting she’d done of her favorite tree, Bloomberg, was “amazing.” Applejack could tell when ponies were being honest. Pastel Palette was definitely overcompensating for something. The painting was awful! It was no big deal, though—Applejack knew she had plenty of other talents.
“I know, dear. I thought you could write in there.” Granny smiled. “Writing is good for gettin’ thoughts outta the old apple cart before they weigh ya down too much.” She pointed her hoof to her head. “Trust me, you don’t want all that rattlin’ around up there.”
“Thanks, Granny Smith.” It was a nice gesture, but Applejack didn’t really have time to be sitting around writing in a book when she had a whole farm to run—no matter how good writing in it might make her feel. Still, she liked her mother’s drawings. They might be fun to look at now and then.
Applejack gave Granny a hug and headed to her room to put the treasures away. She tucked the book and Yeehaw safely under her bed. It was best to keep special things like them out of harm’s way. Also best to keep ’em in a place where they couldn’t distract her for now. There was no time to get lost in daydreams about fillyhood or her mom’s drawings. She had a lot to do, and the first thing on the list was tucking in her little sister; the second was victory for Sweet Apple Acres.
CHAPTER 5
Buck Up!
The next morning, the air outside was as crisp as one of Applejack’s prized Jonagolds. It was the ideal weather for the big job they had on their hooves
, so Applejack was already feeling very lucky. She was ready to make today count. If they wanted to win the award for Best Orchard in Equestria, it was going to take a lot more than just a salt lick and a promise. It was going to take a solid week of hard work. Muzzles-to-grindstone, hooves-in-dirt, sweating-hides work.
Applejack had spent all night planning it out. Sweet Apple Acres was going to get the full overhaul before Blue Ribbon came to see it for himself at the end of the week. A comprehensive inventory of every tree and its average apple output, a full fix-up of the barn, and a new paint job for the sign out front. Winning would mean so much for their family—not just glory and pride for the Apple legacy, but it’d bring in loads of new business to boot. And the extra plot of land? Well, Applejack already had about twenty different ideas for it. She’d all but drawn up blueprints for it.
“Okay, Apples!” Applejack hollered with a smile. “Let’s get to it!”
“All riiiight!” Apple Bloom cheered. She jumped as high into the air as her short filly legs could take her. She really loved a challenge, especially if it included helping her older siblings with all the grown-up farmwork.
“I’d save some of that energy if I were you, sugarcube.” Applejack tipped her hat. “Gonna be a long day. You ready to go, Big Mac?”
“Eeyup!” Big Mac hooked himself to a cart and took off into the orchard. Apple Bloom skipped along behind him, carrying a basket. Her job was to pick up rotten apples off the ground and count them as she collected. It was true what they said about a bad apple being able to ruin the whole bushel, so her job was an important one.
“Found one already!” Applejack could hear Apple Bloom screaming in the distance. “It’s really gross and already has mold and purple stuff on it! Oooh, look—a bug!”
“That’s nice, dear,” said Granny as she headed back into the house. She was going to work on the books and ledgers to see how much money the farm had brought in over the past year. Applejack wanted to leave no stone unturned and no apple tree unbucked, just in case Blue Ribbon asked.
Applejack was about to get to work on her part of the orchard when she saw a pink blur bouncing in the distance. Applejack shielded her eyes from the sun. It was Pinkie Pie! How had she forgotten that today was Pinkie’s day to help out with the inventory?
“Howdy, Pinkie!” Applejack shouted. Even though she knew Pinkie was horrible at bucking apples, Applejack was glad to have her friend join her. Maybe if it worked out, Pinkie would stay and help for more than one day.
“Are you ready for the best apple tree inventory eveeeeer?!” Pinkie squealed as she came to a full stop, just a few inches from Applejack’s face. Now here was a pony who never ran low on energy.
“You bet yer cutie mark,” Applejack said. “Thanks for comin’. All of us here at Sweet Apple Acres really appreciate yer help.”
“I wouldn’t miss the chance to help my best friend for anything!” said Pinkie Pie. “Not even sprinkles day at Sugarcube Corner. Which is today, actually.”
“Come again?” Applejack cocked an eyebrow. She glanced at the rows upon rows of unbucked trees and thought of the precious seconds ticking by. If they started within the next three minutes, they could probably make it to the South Field by lunchtime, and then after lunch they could wind around toward the East Field.…
“It’s the day when Mrs. Cake gets the new shipment of sprinkles in and has me taste all the new flavors,” Pinkie Pie said matter-of-factly. “It’s pretty much the best day at work ever. But I would miss a hundred sprinkles days if you needed me to, Applejack. It’s what friends are for!” Pinkie Pie took out a small silver canister of sprinkles and poured some into her mouth. “Want some?”
“No, thanks,” Applejack said anxiously, glancing at the sundial out of the corner of her eye. A tiny sliver of shadow made its way across the plate.
“More for me.” Pinkie shrugged. She poured some sprinkles in her mouth and leaned casually against the white picket fence. “So, what’s up, A.J.?”
“What’s up is the sun!” Applejack exclaimed. “Which means we’re already behind schedule! Follow me.”
After leading Pinkie over to the first tree in a row, Applejack used all her strength to kick her hind legs out against the trunk of the tree. Twelve apples fell into the basket. One fell onto the ground. “Oh, no, you don’t!” Applejack said to the apple, picking it up and tossing it in with the others. No apples were getting away on Applejack’s watch. “Got that, Pinkie? A thirteen-apple yield from old Steffan here! Not bad for him.” Applejack patted the trunk of the tree and looked up at its strong branches in admiration.
“Steffan—thirteen! Got it!” Pinkie Pie nodded and made a check mark on her clipboard. “This is fuu-uuun!” She bounded over to the next tree in the line, her curly pink tail springing up and down.
“Glad you finally came around to buckin’, Pinkie Pie,” Applejack said. She’d always thought it was fun and hoped other ponies would see it, too. As fellow Earth ponies, she and Pinkie were perfectly suited for the job with their super pony strength. Applejack trotted to the next tree and repeated the familiar motion. Ten apples fell into the basket. Easy as pie. “Ten for Big Jim here!”
“Ten-a-roony for Big Jimmy-Jazz!” Pinkie smiled and scribbled down the number. Then she frowned. “Hmmm…”
“What is it?” Applejack said.
Pinkie scratched her head. “That doesn’t seem right.…”
“What doesn’t seem right?”
“Maybe I have this wrong…” Pinkie frantically flipped through the pages of her clipboard. “Buuuut…”
“Pinkie Pie!” Applejack shouted. “What’s the matter?!”
Pinkie’s face became serious, and she started talking very fast. “If my calculations are correct, Big Jim here should have been up by at least two apples since last quarter. But instead, his yield went down by four. While Steffan did make up for this discrepancy with his extra three apples, we are still down by approximately one apple and have only surveyed precisely two trees!” Pinkie Pie sure knew a lot about an apple orchard for a gal who didn’t normally work on a farm. Sometimes, Pinkie’s random knowledge could catch a pony off guard.
“Well, it’s lucky I don’t make a habit out of countin’ chickens before they’ve hatched or countin’ apples before they’ve been bucked,” Applejack said. “Let’s just keep moving. We still have a lot of trees to go.” She gestured at the orchard. The neat rows of trees extended into the distance. At this rate, it was going to take them a whole month to do the calculations, and they only had ’til the end of the week! Applejack felt her forehead begin to get sweaty under the brim of her hat. Oh no, she thought, not the apple sweats!
“Okay!” Pinkie Pie said brightly. She skipped off to the next tree. A moment later, she got distracted. “Hey, Applejack?”
“Yes, Pinkie Pie?” Applejack hoisted a bushel of apples onto her back.
“Which of these apples are going to become pies? I want to buck those first.”
“Really?” Applejack rolled her eyes. It didn’t matter which apples got bucked first, so long as they all did. “I suppose that’d be the Honeycrisp or the Pink Ladies… though I’ve made many a Jonagold pie in my day.…”
“Oooooh, interesting,” Pinkie said. She nodded her head at the tree and scribbled something down on her clipboard. “You know so much about apples, Applejack.”
“Well, I should hope so!” Applejack snorted. “Kinda comes with the territory of running an apple farm and all.”
Pinkie’s eyes grew wide. “I bet you know almost everything!”
“Almost?! I reckon I do know everything.” Applejack puffed up.
Pinkie smiled and leaned in close. “Oh yeah? What’s the first ingredient you need if you wish to make an apple pie from scratch?”
Applejack didn’t see how any of this was relevant, but she played along. “Well, apples fer starters… then flour, sugar, cinnamon…”
“No, silly, the first step is inventing the UNIVERSE!” P
inkie laughed. Then she frowned and put her hoof to her chin. “Or was it Equestria? I can’t remember the actual words, but I read that in one of Twilight’s science books. Somepony named Cart Bacon—”
Applejack reached out and put her hoof over Pinkie’s mouth. “That’s very fascinatin’ and all, but put a cork in it, all right?”
“Mmmmf hmp ummm smmmrf!” Pinkie Pie said, nodding.
Applejack sighed. It was tough enough to run a whole farm with a focused worker like Big Mac beside her. How was she expected to get all her work done in a short amount of time when she had such a hyperactive pony like Pinkie Pie holding her back? Pinkie will be Pinkie. I’ll make it work somehow, she thought as she cantered over to another tree.
“Yeehaw!” Applejack shouted, and kicked her back legs with the force of ten regular ponies. Apples rained down into the baskets below. It was hard work being an Apple and a good friend at the same time, but luckily she was up for both jobs. At least she hoped so.
CHAPTER 6
A Day Late and a Bit Short
The golden delicious sun was starting to set over Sweet Apple Acres. “Well, butter my flank and call me a biscuit!” Applejack carted the last two bushels of apples back to the barn and plopped down onto the soft hay. “I’m mighty tired.”
Pinkie joined in, and the two of them looked over at the tons of apples they’d collected that day. Soon the fresh loot would have to be washed and checked again for rotten apples and sneaky worms. Then they’d be separated and shipped across Equestria in the form of delicious pies or barrels of cider, or just as is—healthy, crispy apples, the closest to perfection a piece of fruit could get.
“That’s because you didn’t have sprinkle power.” Pinkie Pie shrugged. She bit into a fresh apple. “I hope you—I mean we,” Pinkie Pie said with a wink. “I hope we win the award for Best Orchard in Equestria!” Ever since Pinkie Pie had discovered she was possibly a distant relative of the Apple family, she’d taken to referring to herself as one of them. It didn’t matter if it was true or not because Pinkie thought it was lots of fun.
