PART II: Dreams in the Dark
Chapter 13: Longest Day
The kitchen door slowly, almost reluctantly, creaked open to reveal a visibly exhausted Big Mac. The room lay quiet and empty, filled with the predawn twilight that struck a soothing balance between fading darkness and rising light. Big Mac carefully stepped inside and cautiously closed the door behind him, momentarily pausing to listen for any sounds that his family stirred... nothing. Standing motionless, almost too tired to move, he focused on his breathing and nearly passed through the moment. He listlessly drifted to the table and almost fell onto the seat, feeling more drained than at anytime he could ever remember.
All night. You were out there all night, and she didn’t show up. Big Mac laid his head upon the table. Why? Why didn’t she show up!? Maybe something happened? Maybe she ran into another monster? Mac, you damn fool! She’s a princess. She could never love you. No! She does. Ah could feel it. She does love me. Mac, wake up! She doesn’t love you. It was just a dream. Just a damn, bucking dream. She left you alone just like.... Big Mac bolted upright. No... that – that was different.
Realizing he would quickly fall asleep if he continued to sit there, Big Mac stood with great difficulty, still weak and weary from his long, meaningless night. The easterly sky now lay bright, with golden sunlight soon to pierce the horizon. The family will be getting up any minute. Ah can’t let them know Ah was out all night. Ah’ll go ahead and make the coffee. That’ll wake me up and it’ll look like Ah got up early. He made his way to cabinet and pulled forth the bag of ground coffee. He reached for the kettle and, after filling it with cold clear water from the tap, set it upon the stove to heat. From above, the shifting sounds indicated that the family was getting out of bed to start their day, while Big Mac’s endless agony would continue in another form. After a minute the stairs creaked, and he turned to see Applejack entering the kitchen.
“Mornin’ Big Mac,” she said with a smile on her face.
“Mornin’,” he dully replied, doing his best to hide not just his fatigue but also the pain tearing at his heart.
Applejack began to rummage through the cabinets, gathering the ingredients and cookware to make breakfast. “You’re up early this mornin’,” she observed.
“Eeyup,” he responded flatly, emotionlessly.
“I thought ya might have slept in a little,” she passed casually.
“Nnope.”
Taking a look at him, she asked, “Ya sure you don’t want to get some extra sleep? You look awfully tired.”
Feeling his annoyance increase, he retorted, “Nnope.”
She began measuring out the flour. “So how was your night out?”
“Fine,” he said, with more bitterness than intended.
“Really?” she asked, her tone colored with concern.
Doing his best to respond in a normal manner, he replied, “Eeyup.”
Studying Big Mac for a moment, Applejack seemed to accept his answer and returned to making pancakes. The kettle began to whistle, letting all know the coffee would be ready shortly. He poured the boiling water unto the ground beans and slowly a small stream of black liquid began to fill the awaiting pot. With a little bit of time before the coffee would be ready, Big Mac lumbered out of the room without another word and made his way to the downstairs bathroom. After taking a moment to relieve himself, he filled the basin with cold water. Splashing his face calmed him, but did nothing to relieve the overwhelming exhaustion. He stared at himself in the mirror. Ah am tired. Out there all night for nothin’. A whole day’s work ahead. Just got to make it ta dinner. He ran a towel over his face and hooves before returning to the kitchen which was filled with the rich, comforting aroma of coffee. He grabbed a cup then sat down at the table. Taking it black, he quickly drank the hot liquid but found it offered little relief from the terrible fatigue. He rose again and poured himself another cup.
“A second cup already?” asked a surprised and concerned Applejack.
“Eeyup.” He again took a seat and downed the cup. He could feel the coffee slowly combating his exhaustion, though he knew it was going to be a long day, with his struggle only just beginning.
Applejack turned to him and opened her mouth for a question, but was preempted by her sister walking into the room. “Mornin’ everypony,” chimed Apple Bloom.
“Mornin’ sugar cube,” replied Applejack cheerily.
“Mornin’,” mumbled Big Mac.
“We havin’ pancakes again?” asked Apple Bloom, catching the emerging scent replacing the aroma of coffee.
“We sure are,” said Applejack.
“That sounds good.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re hungry.”
Apple Bloom sat down across from Big Mac. “You look tired.”
“Nnope,” was his simple response.
“Mornin’ y’all,” said their grandmare, entering the kitchen and taking a seat at the head of the table.
“Mornin’ Granny Smith,” greeted Applejack.
“Good mornin’ Granny,” replied Apple Bloom.
“Mornin’,” grumbled Big Mac.
“Apple Bloom, would you mind getting out the juice, butter, and syrup?” asked Applejack.
“Sure thing.”
Granny Smith turned to Big Mac. “Ya look tired. Didn’t ya sleep well?”
“Nnope,” he muttered.
“That’s too bad. I’m sure some of Applejack’s cooking will make ya feel better,” she encouraged.
Applejack brought the plates and silverware to the rest of the family, while Apple Bloom set the table with the rest of the meal. Stacking the fresh hot pancakes onto a platter, Applejack joined her family at the table. Within moments most of the family was enjoying breakfast, with Big Mac merely going through the motions....
***
Bam! Big Mac turned to the tree, disappointed to see fruit still hanging from the branches. Normally he could clear a tree with a single powerful kick from one of his hind legs, but today it required two or sometimes three attempts. Clearly his exhaustion was having a detrimental impact on his work performance. Giving the tree another buck, he turned and found it finally free of apples. With the tree harvested, he let out a long, weary sigh as he began collecting the filled baskets. Big Mac hauled the fruit to the awaiting cart, the heavy load and his fatigue sapping what little energy he had left and fogging his mind. He wasn’t sure he’d make it to lunch, much less dinner.
His unending, arduous labor did little to distract his troubled mind. All day he kept trying to figure out what had happened. He believed they had shared a real connection on a deep, personal level that only they understood. He possessed feelings for her. She harbored feelings for him. They were to keep the relationship secret to avoid the pressures of a public courting. So why didn’t she show up? Had he done something wrong? Did he unknowingly offend her in some way? Try as he might, Big Mac could only come up with one good explanation, one that cut deep into his heart and tore at his soul: He wasn’t good enough for her.
Big Mac returned to the next tree in the orchard and carefully arranged the baskets to catch the falling fruit. He prepared for another buck, but noticed Applejack approaching between the rows of apple trees. “You doin’ okay?” she asked.
“Eeyup,” he responded flatly.
“Really? You don’t seem fine.”
“Eeyup,” he maintained.
“You’re exhausted.”
“Nnope.”
“And somethin’s been bothering you.”
“Nnope.”
“I could see it at breakfast. You were quiet, even for you.”
“Nnope,” he replied, increasingly annoyed.
“Is it about last night?”
“Nnope.”
“Did something happen when you were in town?”
“Nnope.”
“You can tell me.”
“Nnope,” he declared with heavy irritation in his voice.
“Big Mac, can’t ya see I’m trying to help!?”
“Nnope!” he yelled. Bam! Crack! They turned to the tree. The two stood there, speechless, staring at the trunk which now bore large cracks emanating from a deep hoofprint. Shocked at her brother’s behavior, Applejack turned and walked away, leaving Big Mac alone in the orchard....
***
Celestia’s red sun was sinking towards the distant western hills by the time Big Mac finished his work and approached the farmhouse, feeling tired and dirty. A bath and sleep would take care of those problems, but would do little to heal his spirit. He wounded soul ached in agony, torn by all the conflicting emotions swirling inside him: anger at Princess Luna for not showing up; loneliness from unrequited love; guilt for his outburst before Applejack; humiliation at having spent all night waiting for the princess; anger at himself for daring to hope they could be together; fear that he may have irreparably damaged his relationship with his sister; despair that he would never find someone to share his love; shame that he wasn’t good enough for Luna.
Big Mac gloomily climbed the porch steps, each of them creaking under his weight. He paused for a long moment before the door, not wanting to go inside and face Applejack, much less the rest of his family if they knew what happened. He was so disgusted and shamed by his actions he had skipped lunch, instead skimming a few apples from his harvest. He had gone out of his way to avoid his sister, but now he had to face her.
He opened the screen door, which let out a loud squeak. Stepping inside, he could detect the wonderful smells of dinner and heard his family busy in the kitchen. “Big Mac?” called Apple Bloom. Entering the living room, she told him, “You’d better wash up. We’re almost ready to eat.”
Big Mac was about to walk to the bathroom when he paused. “Ah’m not having dinner.”
“You’re not?” asked a surprised Apple Bloom.
“Nnope.”
“Why not?”
“Ah’m goin’ to bed.”
“You sure you don’t want anythin’?” she asked.
“Nnope.” He turned and slowly began climbing the stairs to his bedroom.