//------------------------------// // Chapter 53: Return to Dodge City // Story: The Private Scrapbook // by Cadabra //------------------------------// Chapter 53: Return to Dodge City Apple Bloom cooed her sappy approval over her grandmother’s story of love concurring all. “That’s the best love story I ever heard!” she exclaimed as she held her cheeks with joy. “It’s better than that Dusk book series me and Applejack have been readin’. Ya know the ones with the vampony and the timberwolf, right? Yer story is better than Dusk's, and those are the best books ever!” Applejack was the one who read those books to her sister, and she begged to differ. She found them trashy, clichéd, and all around unbelievable stories about a vapid love triangle between two cardboard cut out characters. And she particularly hated the spineless mush of a protagonist in those books who had to choose between these trite stallions. Had it been her, she would have gone for the practical timberwolf pony over the crystally emo blood sucker pony any day, but she was the type who was used to thinking with her head instead of her heart. “That sure was a fine story, granny,” she said, reeling in the conversation from silly romance novels meant for children and the easily entertained. “But it sure don’t explain why we owe money in the first place, or why yer giving away extra jam jars to Filthy Rich.” Granny Smith turned to what she realized to be the last group of pages in her scrapbook. “I’m a gettin’ to that,” she said, turning to an article from the Ponyville Press that covered her courthouse wedding to Crab Apple. “Ya see, yer granddad proposed to me right there under them stars that night. He said he wanted to make a proper pony outta me, ‘specially after five years of nothin’ goin’ on between us. Real soon after, yer daddy and Auntie Orange were on their way into the world. Them twins was as different as apples and oranges from day one. That’s where they got their names! We called him Honeycrisp and her Valencia.” Applejack could tell that her grandmother was rambling again. While she loved hearing stories about her long gone father, she was just as curious as her siblings were about where the debts came from. “So when does the reason we owe so much come into place?” she asked. Granny Smith cleared her throat before she continued her story. “It starts off durin’ the honeymoon,” she explained, showing two train ticket stubs with her wedding date on them. “We set off fer Dodge City right after the weddin’ so we could finally bring mah family home…” The newlyweds shared a quiet, uncomfortably awkward train ride to Dodge City right after the courthouse wedding had ended. The fellow train passengers either glared at them, whispered too loudly about them being responsible for the economic downturn thanks to emancipation, or avoided looking at them all together. Even the snack trolley pony pushed passed them in a hurry, explaining how serving ponies with their reputation would be bad for business. Dodge City looked more like a ghost town than a bustling hub of commerce like it had been in years past, reminding Smithy of how it looked during the Cloudsdale Strike when she was a filly. Several of the shops on the main thoroughfare were boarded up with signs reading "Gone Out of Business." Those shops that were still open had signs that read "No Stripes Allowed" in big red letters. The few ponies inside the stores were mostly employees, looking for ways to pass the time between the few customers they had. Smithy could see a stallion in Grossly Rich's general store window putting out a pan of fresh baked brownies to cool. The scent of them seemed to fill the near empty street with the heavenly aroma of chocolate. Smithy couldn't help closing her eyes and smiling to herself as she tilted her head back and took a whiff. Even Crab Apple was also enjoying the smell of the baked goods. “Think your mom and boy would want some a those?" he asked, eagerly digging bits out of his vest pocket to pay for the tempting treats as his stomach gurgled with hunger. Smithy was eager to nod, nearly bounding up the store stairs to get to the brownies. "Good thinkin'," she replied, her hoof already on the door. “Filthy Rich’s uncle owns this here general store. I reckon he'll be glad to serve family." The bell on the front door chimed merrily as Smithy and Crab Apple walked in, catching the attention of the shop clerk. His head perked up optimistically at the sound, only to find himself disappointed with his newest customers. "We don't serve yer kind 'round here," he said, staring down his nose at the two ponies. “Just get on outta here. I don't want no trouble with the likes of y'all." Smithy was getting tired of this type of treatment. Looking down at the clerk's name tag, she noticed the name Prosper written in black ink. "Listen here, Mr. Prosper," she said, trying to sound dignified. “I know the fella who runs this here store. Where's Grossly Rich? I wanna talk to him." Prosper scoffed at the entitled display. "Mah pa's dead," he explained. “Stress got to him. He worked himself to death after we had to let the zigglers go. Mighty fine shame too. We had ourselves the biggest and best general store in the tri-county area. It's mah general store now." Crab Apple rolled his eyes at Prosper. “Spare us your life's story," he said as he set his stack of bits on the counter. "We buyin' brownies or what?" Prosper pushed the bits off the counter, letting them fall wherever they would. "No sale," he said with a snarky smirk. Crab Apple was fuming at the rude clerk. He pressed his nose up against Prosper's so that he could yell in his face. “Don't blame us for your dad's incompetence!" he hollered, yelling so much that spit was flying out of his mouth. Smithy gently knocked her husband out of the way to avoid a big fight. “Simmer yerselves down, fellas," she said over the masculine grunts. “We wanna buy them brownies fer mah mama and boy." Prosper's expression changed to one that openly mocked the two ponies. “Boy, y'all have been in Foalsom too long!" he chuckled. “I’m surprised ya ain’t heard." Smithy was confused by the sudden mocking. “Heard what?" she asked, cocking her eyebrow in question. Prosper rolled his eyes at Smithy's ignorance. “Why not head on over to the Buildin' and Loan and find out fer yerselves," he said, feeling satisfied with knowing something they didn't. "I'd tell ya mahself, but I wouldn't wanna spoil the surprise fer ya." Crab Apple put his arm around his wife's shoulders. “Come on," he said, not taking his angry eyes off the pony behind the counter. "We don't need ta give jerks like dis our business anyway." As soon as they left the store, Prosper rammed the door on their rumps. He locked the door, then made rude gestures at them from the window. Crab Apple shot the shop keeper a dirty look as he spat at the door. “Da nerve a dat guy!" he exclaimed as he and his wife walked away. “I swear, if dat door wasn't locked, I'd go back in there and clobber him!" Smithy lead her husband down the street, all the while unable to get the idea of what this surprise was out of her thoughts. She knew it had been far too long since she had last seen her family. How much could have possibly changed, and was it all for the better? Crab Apple watched his spouse fretting as she walked with her head down. He nudged her playfully as they turned down an intersecting street. "Come on, cheer up," he said, noticing that she wasn't responding like he had hoped. “Dis is what you want, remember?" Smithy stood nervously at the doorstep of the Dodge City Building and Loan, gulping back a nervous lump in her throat. “Yer right," she said as she rested a hoof on the door, too nervous to even open it. "Just seems every time I try to get what I wanted, it doesn't turn out like I hope it does." Smithy felt bad that she hadn’t written ahead to tell them that she was coming, but she was so eager that she hadn’t thought to do so. She hadn’t received a letter from either her son or mother in over a year, and she was worried that they might not be as eager to see her as she was to see them. She knocked on the front door with a shaking hoof, taking a deep breath as she waited for somepony to answer. Fairly Rich answered the door, allowing it to stop on a chain lock he had installed. He stood at the door for what felt like forever studying them intensely. "Y'all ain’t bill collectors, are ya?" he asked, watching the two ponies shaking their heads as he eyed them from top to bottom. "Y'all ain’t Jehooveh’s Witnesses then, are ya? Cause iffn ya are, we ain’t interested. We've already found our princess and we ain’t got no money to send y'all to Saddle Arabia to convert heathens. Go talk to mah bill collectors fer that evidence." Smithy smiled nervously as she held out an introductory hoof to shake. “I’m Smithy, yer old sister-in-law,” she said, noticing Fairly Rich not taking her hoof. Instead, she noticed he had several scars that looked like they came from deep scratches across his face, and a good chunk of his left ear missing. While his left eye was covered over by an eyepatch, his right eye did not look impressed. “Uh, this here’s mah husband, Crab Apple. We’re here to see mah mama and boy. Are they ‘bout somewhere?” What was left of Fairly Rich’s eyebrows raised at the realization of who was at his front door. “Yer Filthy Rich’s mama!” he exclaimed, quickly unchaining the door to the Building and Loan. “Well, don't just stand there. Come on in before the flies get ya. I'd offer ya some refreshments, but I don't have the wife or the zigglers fer that kinda hospitality no more." Smithy and Crab Apple stepped in the empty office, noticing Fairly Rich limping on a peg leg. They listened to it clack loudly as he walked, a sound noticeable different to their own hoofsteps echoing under the floorboards. They also noticed a large shelf on the back wall with several framed metals on it surrounding the Equestrian flag folded in a six sided hexagon, signifying the six Elements of Harmony. Most noticeable was a large purple heart metal framed in the center. Fairly Rich noticed his guests looking at the shelf. “That’s where this came from, in case ya were wonderin'," he said, propping his wooden peg leg up on the desk. “Got mahself drafted in the Griffin War, and Velvet ran off after I came home injured. I guess ya could say I'm lucky to be alive, but that's debatable. But ya know all 'bout the war I reckon since it's the one y'all got started. Least that's what we read it in the papers anyhow. Sure shocked yer mama and boy the more they read. Still, them politicians paychecks must be mighty nice. We'd be awful glad to help y'all invest yer money here in the Dodge City Buildin' and Loan." The mention of family made Smithy look around eagerly. “Where’d mah mama and boy get off too?” she said optimistically, trying to change the conversation. Fairly Rich sighed deeply at the mention of the family. “Yer mama’s gone, honey,” he said sadly. “Passed on ‘bout a year ago. Stress got to her I reckon. She passed on right after we found out y’all got arrested.” The news silenced Smithy. “Mah… mama?” she said quietly as Crab Apple wrapped his arm around her shoulders for support. Fairly Rich nodded sadly in reply. “She was a real nice woman,” he said. “Fussed a bunch, but she was real good to yer boy.” Smithy brushed away her tears for her mother at the mention of her son. “Can I see him?” she asked. Fairly Rich lead his guests to a back room office. “He’s doin’ his homework. Real bright boy,” he explained as he knocked on the door. “Filthy Rich! Ya got some visitors.” Smithy was shaking as she waited for the door to open. She hadn’t seen her son in over five years, and she wasn’t sure what to expect. She smiled the moment she saw his face. “Hi, baby,” she said as she threw her arms around him and showered him with kisses. Filthy Rich pushed his mother away. “What are ya doin’ here?” he scowled. Smithy knew she shouldn’t be surprised by the behavior, but she was hurt all the same. “I’m here to take ya back home,” she explained. “I got everythin’ all fixed, just like I promised I would.” Filthy Rich eyed the pony standing beside his mother. “What’s that killer doin’ here!” he hollered as he pointed at Crab Apple. Smithy stood between the two ponies to try to ease the tension. “Well, ya see,” she tried to explain, “this here’s yer new daddy. We went ahead and got married before we came out here to pick y’all up. He’s okay. I promise.” Filthy Rich was fuming at the news. “No!” he shouted. “He killed mah daddy! How dare y’all! Yer both bad ponies!” Filthy Rich slammed and locked his door, and could be heard crying from the other side. Smithy gently knocked at the door, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Now Filthy Rich,” she said, trying to hold her emotions in check. “It ain’t all what yer thinkin’. Lemme come in and talk to ya!” Fairly Rich pulled her away from the door and held her at arms length. “I think y’all better leave,” he said sternly. “He’s stirred up enough as is. Let the boy be.” Smithy wanted to fight the request, but she knew Fairly Rich was right. “Can y’all do us a favor?” she asked through bitter tears. “I need to talk to mah boy and explain to him all that happened. I feel like I owe him an explanation fer everythin’. Maybe if y’all come to the farm durin’ harvest season we can all have ourselves a talk.” Fairly Rich took a deep breath as he thought about the request. “I’ll talk it over with yer son,” he replied. “I’m gonna leave it up to him now, ya understand? It’s his life, and he’s gotta decide if he wants this.” It was a fair answer, and Smithy would have to accept it. She felt a lump of regret in the pit of her stomach as she and Crab Apple walked out the door. “Think he’ll come 'round?” she asked as she looked up at her son’s window. Crab Apple watched the blinds being closed by the upset child. “Hard tellin’,” he said. “Give him some time, okay?”