//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Smiles From the Past // Story: The Private Scrapbook // by Cadabra //------------------------------// Chapter 2: Smiles From the Past Granny Smith dashed up to her bedroom shortly after her talk with Filthy Rich, claiming a powerful belly ache as the cause of the sudden departure. It wasn’t like her to lock her bedroom door, but the last thing she wanted her grandchildren to see were the tears streaking down her wrinkled old cheeks as she stressed over her accounting books. Sure, the deal she’d just made with Filthy Rich had kept them from foreclosure this time around. The deal would even get them through the end of spring and into summer, but could that get them as far as fall’s cider season? Even if they didn’t have another set of competition like they did last year with the Flim Flam brothers, she wasn’t sure if it could get them through to next year’s zap apple season at this point. Were a few extra hundred free jars really worth it? And what if he demanded more? Needing to take her eyes off the ugliness of the numbers that lay before her, Granny Smith looked absentmindedly around her bedroom. In her vain search for something to cheer her up, her eyes fell upon a very old family scrapbook sandwiched between some worn out books on her bookshelf. Unlike the scrapbooks and photo albums in the living room bookshelf, this one was kept hidden from the rest of the family. It was filled with scandalous history, mixed memories, family secrets, and a whole host of deep regrets. In spite of the negativity hidden away in the pages, Granny Smith reached for it with the hopes that a smile from the past might give her some ideas on how to get through the next few months. If it was one thing the old Seed Family was good at, it was scraping by in the worst of situations. She stared down at the photos of her family, looking into the eyes of her loved ones and remembering just how much she missed them. She dabbed at her leaking eyes as she neared the middle of the book, unable to dab away the regrets she held closest to her heart. One particular regret weighed heaviest, and seeing it in the very center of the book set her off. “Ah, look at ya, mah lil’ girl,” she whimpered as she placed her hoof over a photo of some work worn zebras building a zap apple jam stand, paying extra attention to a smiling, striped little filly. “How’d I ever let ya go like I did? Why, I reckon we’d be a right goodin' of a family iff'n I’d done right by everypony.” That photo was worn down by years of regretful attention. Staring at the photo of the zebra child reminded her of the pains that she kept secret from her family, and the very secret that held her in so much debt to Filthy Rich. Granny Smith shot up in shock at the sound of her door being knocked on. “I’m a comin',” she said meekly, hoping that she sounded sick enough for her grandchildren to leave her alone. Looking at the desk, she didn’t know what to hide first, the scrapbook or the accounting papers. Both would have roused enough suspicion from the kids, and the last thing she wanted was to get into a conversation about either. Hearing another concerned knock on the door, she decided to stuff the papers into the scrapbook and shove it back into the bookcase. As she tossed a doily over the book to better conceal it, she heard Applejack fiddling with the knob. “Granny?" Applejack called out. "Ya alright in there? Ain’t like ya to be baracadin’ yerself in.” Big Macintosh bellowed an agreeable ‘eeyup’ as he took a turn to knock on the door. Granny Smith ambled toward the door with her night cap hastily stuffed onto her head. “I told y’all I ain’t feelin’ well,” she argued, trying to sound pathetically unwell. “Last thing we need is fer y’all to be missin’ the harvest on account of yer achin’ bellies.” Opening the door, Granny Smith let out a rather pathetic attempt at a cough to drive her grandchildren away. Unconvinced by the performance, Apple Bloom smiled innocently up at her dear old grandmother. “Speakin’ of bein’ accounted fer,” she said as she took advantage of her small size to sneak into the room, “Diamond Tiara told us ya had account books, and that we owe some money to her daddy. Ya think we can make enough money this harvest to pay her daddy off?” The innocent question was an uncomfortable one, and the plastered smile on Granny Smith’s face wasn’t fooling anypony. “Oh now, don’t ya fret yer cute lil’ head ‘bout it now,” she said, backing away toward the bed. Big Macintosh shook his head as he walked up to the bed to tuck in his grandmother. “Nope,” he said as he pulled back the freshly made sheets on the bed. “Ya probably need to get some talkin’ in, ‘specially since these sheets ain’t been messed up yet.” Looking guilty, Granny Smith put her hoof down in frustration. “What is it y’all want?” she said, plopping her behind on the mattress in defeat. Applejack went up to the roll top desk and began rooting around for the accounting documents. “We wanna know what’s got ya all riled up,” she said, knocking a few pages off the desk. “That lil’ Diamond Tiara was sayin’ some mighty nasty things ‘bout ya, and honestly I wanna know what’s goin’ on with our finances.” Adding an ‘eeyup’ to the argument, Big Macintosh eyed his grandmother sitting in bed. She looked up at him with a stubborn scowl. “Ta’int nothin’ to say,” she said, crossing her front legs like a frustrated filly. Applejack rolled her eyes as she dug around the roll top desk, hoping to find what she was looking for. Her frustration grew with each slip of paper she pushed aside. Surely some answers were hiding up here! As discarded papers continued to land on the floor, Apple Bloom decided to take another look around at them to see if her sister had missed something. While taking a look at the papers littering the floor, she noticed what looked like an old photograph. “Hey, who’s this?” she said, holding up the photo to her family. “It looks kinda like Zecora’s family, don’t it?” Granny Smith leapt out of bed with a terrified look on her face and swiped the photo out of her granddaughter’s hoof, looking down at it in fear as her family gawked at her. She cowered over the photo as they approached her. “Well, I, uh… it ain’t nothin’ much… uh,” Granny Smith mumbled, breathing heavily as she tried to think about what she was going to say and hoping she could cover for the truth. “It’s just… just…” No good excuse came to Granny Smith’s mind as she looked at the image of her deepest regret. She began to cry as she held the photo close to her heart, bawling at the realization that she could no longer hide the painful truth from her family. “All yer answers are in mah scrapbook!” she wept as she pointed to the bookshelf in defeat, unable to look any of them in the eye. Big Macintosh and Apple Bloom rushed to Granny Smith’s side to comfort her, but Applejack was more determined to get answers than she was to comfort her crying grandmother. After finding what she was looking for under the doily, she started to spill the scrapbook open. Being the no nonsense type, she went right for the papers first and did not bother paying attention to any of the old photos or clippings. “What in tarnation is this!” she hollered as she put a frustrated hoof down on the papers concerning the extra jars of zap apple jam and the math that went along with it. “What gave ya the idea to give them Rich’s this many more jars of jam? I know we’re behind on what we owe ‘em, but how in Equestria are we gonna make it to next jam season if we give ‘em that much of our jam?” Granny Smith brushed away the papers as she gathered up the precious old scrapbook. “It’s kinda complicated, youngin’,” she said, sighing heavily as she turned to the front page of the scrapbook. “Me and the Rich’s go back a whole mess of years, and they got a lot of dirt on this here family.” Wanting some answers for why Granny Smith made such a ridiculous decision, Applejack softened her approach so that she could encourage those answers out of her grandmother. “Simmer down now,” she said gently as she handed her grandmother a handkerchief, wincing slightly at the sounds of Granny Smith blowing her nose. “So yer sayin’ ya’ve known the Rich’s a long time?” Finishing with her handkerchief, Granny Smith turned to the front of the scrapbook. “Oh we’ve had to work with them loan ponies ever since I was a lil’ filly,” she said, pointing to a picture of her family. “Why, I’ll never forget them early days…”