I held out the book, Equestrian Toxicology Diagnostic and Treatment Manual. “It was really quite clever of them. See for yourself. It is a pesticide for bud worm. It should be applied to the blooms. It is a water soluble white/gray powder.”
AJ stamped a hoof in anger as she read the entry. “We don’t do nothin’ like this! We runs an ORGANIC farm! What can we do now? Even if there is some way to clean the apples, they won’t count as organic.”
I batted my big goat eyelashes at her and suggested, “Thank you, AJ! I accept your invitation to the Harvest Home Feast! These apples that you brought me look like the orchards might benefit from about another inch of rain. I am sure that Cloudsdale will cooperate on delivering that!”
AJ’s eyed narrowed. “You asking me to lie about this?”
I smiled, “Not at all! AFTER the rain, you hire me to check the crop because of a threat to it. I will bet that the pony who wants to buy Sweet Apple Acres made a veiled threat, right?”
Mutely, AJ nodded.
I filled in, “I will publicly run this same test! The crop will show safe. If anypony asks you about the crop being organic, refer them to me and I will certify it pesticide free.”
AJ mulled that over for some time. “Ah don’t like it but I see where it would be true, too.
“Got a different question fer you, Mister Goat. What can we do about the apple worm that tried to do this to my family?”
I grinned, “That just happens to be what I do for a living, even if the term living technically does not apply to me!”
AJ smiled at my feeble jest but persisted, “So Ah hear. How kin we nail his tail to a tree”
I pointed out, “We make a carefully drawn contract. That is the base of the particular sort of magic that I do.”
I positioned several cushions for AJ’s comfort and sat in my easy chair. I reached over and pulled a copy of one of my blank contracts out of a file.
I explained, “Now, AJ, this top page is the same for all of my contracts. The only things that ever change are the amounts and who they get paid to. The terms for a refund if necessary, that sort of thing.” I wrote briefly and showed her the page.
She observed astutely, “You have left the amount blank.”
“Right, AJ. I am trying to decide whether that dozen apples is enough payment. Now, let’s get down to the hard part. I won’t ask you to sign anything that is not complete.”
AJ stared at the apples on my counter and then to me. “I thought that you charged at least a hundred golden bits. Why would you take a dozen poisoned apples?”
I replied offhandedly, “The poison will wash off. I have to be paid. How much is up to me. I charge a lot most of the time because the ones buying my work are trying to harm or influence some other pony. While I do approve of that, I see no reason not make it hurt for the one buying my services too. I really don’t much like most ponies.”
“Ah see. How shall we handle this best?”
“Tell me, AJ, would you getting to keep Sweet Apple Acres and see Sir Snobbin Realty get their tails nailed to the tree bother you?”
“Ah do believe that you have just said the best thing Ah have heard in a long time.”
I sat and began to fill in the results page, the heart of any of my contracts, actually. AJ sat and tried to sort out what I had in mind. Finally, I handed her the whole contract.
We went over it together in detail before she signed it.
We took the time to clean the apples and bake up two pies and a batch of fritters before we left together to register the contract.
The elderly mare Molly was behind the counter in the Hall of Records. Pretending that she is young and beautiful is our little game. “Hello, Mol, my lovely! Look who I have for a client this time!”
She nearly dropped her spectacles at the sight of AJ!
“Who are YOU having hexed, AJ?”
AJ sort of scratched the carpet with a hoof and replied, “Ah is more concerned that Sweet Apple Acres stays in our family. Rather'n hex some pony, their tricks gone backfire on 'em, that’s all.”
I paid Mol the twenty bits registration fee. She made her ledger notes and filed the contract.
The next morning, I was sitting out on the ledge in front of my cave along with the Litch King, Lord of the Dead, known to his few friends as Clarence. The sun shining through the neatly polished bones of his skeletal body made neat patters on the stone of the ledge.
We were sharing clover top scramble and apple fritters on the side while waiting for Coalsmoke, a lovely pure black mare with a cutie mark like the one on the abdomen of a Black Widow Spider. We were planning a leisurely morning reading the latest Daring Do book.
We saw Coalsmoke rounding a bend in the trail. Just behind her were AJ, Big Mac and little Applebloom. They looked pretty upset.