You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension. A dimension of sound. A dimension of sight. A dimension of mind. You’re moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You have just crossed over into... The Twilight Zone.
“Don’t you two worry none,” Granny Smith told the couple, “Ah can take care of these two until Y'all get back.”
The mother didn’t seem convinced. “I’m not sure, Applejack can get quite cranky if she wakes up from her nap too-”
“Hon,” the father interjected. “We’re jus’ gonna go to the market ta get some cherries, not a trip around Equestria.” The yellow stallion smiled, “After all, it’ll take, what? Twenty minutes? Half an hour? C’mon Buttercup, we’ll be back before ya know it.”
The orange-maned mare glanced over to where her red son was. He was playing with the pillows on the couch. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
Granny waved her green hoof dismissively, “Of course Ah can! Ah’ve raised Bright Mac after all, so lookin’ after yer colt is gonna be a walk in the park. Now go on both of ya, Ah need them cherries for ice cream later on.”
“Will do Ma,” the yellow stallion, with his saddlebag placed on him said before he and his wife headed out the door.
The couple began their journey to town, walking past the gate that they’ve built, they trotted down the dirt path between the rows of apple trees. Bright started to notice how quiet his wife was so he began, “It’s a good day to get out huh?” But she made no reply, “Buttercup?”
“Hm?” she snapped her attention towards him. “Oh, sorry, I just got distracted back there.”
The yellow stallion’s smile drooped a bit, “Somethin’ wrong?”
“No, no. It’s nothing serious, just a thought I have.”
Her husband paused for a moment to reach into his saddlebag to pull out a gold coin, “Bit fer yer thoughts?”
With a giggle, she pushed the coin back to him. “Really, it’s nothing.”
“Is it about the baby?”
Buttercup put a hoof other her stomach. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…” She felt a hoof over her shoulder, a subtle gustier from her love that he was listening. “Hon, do you really think we make good parents?”
Bright Mac’s eyes widen, “Now where did this come from? Of course, we are! We’ve been takin’ good care of our kids' jus’ fine.”
“I know we are,” she smiled at him. “Really, I do love them both… only…” she hesitated. “What do you think that they’ll be like when they grow up? I don’t mean what cutie marks they get or stuff like that. I mean, would they be good ponies?”
Her husband opened his mouth but found himself for loss of words. After scratching the back of his red-maned head, he answered, “Ah… Ah don’t really know. It would be shocking if they didn’t after all the love, time and work we put into bein’ with them apart of takin’ care of the farm. But that’s all in the future, somethin’ that hasn’t really happened yet. So who knows, maybe we’re worryin’ over nothin’.”
“Still, aren’t you the least bit curious to see how they would turn out? I mean, like just hop a couple of years to see what they would be like.” She sighed, “Makes me wish that we could do that.”
“Ah would be lyin’ ta say that Ah wouldn’t do the same. That would be interestin’ ta see what kind of stallion our Big Mac becomes.”
“Or what kind of mare our Applejack will be… Or even to know if I’m gonna have a filly or a colt.” Buttercup mussed as they started to walk down the dirt road again when suddenly, “Oh! I’ve completely forgotten!”
“What?”
“We need my bag to put the cherries in,” she faced hoof. “Oh, I was worrying so much that I’ve completely let it slip out of my head! We’ve got to go back.”
Bright raised an eyebrow, and after glancing at his saddlebags asked, “Could we store them in mine?”
She shook her head, “Not unless you want to risk your bags from getting stained and sticky if they get squished. Come on Bright, let’s turn around and get it real quick.”
The farmer watched his wife turned around and began to trot back home. With a sigh, he followed right behind her.
Presented for your consideration: A mother and a father’s natural worry of their own children’s future while they raise two foals and one on the way – and a wish that they could sneak peek a glance into what lies ahead for their family. It is a passing wish, for sure, and a simple “what if” for any parent who wonders about the well-being of their own children. But in just a moment, they are about to get their wish. As they start to return to their farm, together they take a journey, into the Twilight Zone.
Bright Mac and Buttercup walked close together underneath the warm, June sun. Making a conversation to fill in the serene silence of the countryside, until the mare spotted the farmhouse, “Okay, just let me run in real quick to get my bag and we’ll be back on our errand before you know it.”
Her husband snickered, “You just wanna see if AJ starts crying again, aren’t ya?”
“No,” she snickered. “Just wait here, I’ll be right back.”
A grin of his own formed on the yellow farmer’s face as he rolled his eyes while his wife galloped up to the farmhouse. But as he did so, his eyes caught on the whitewashed gate overhead. His amusement morphed into confusion as he noticed that the paint was peeling in some places. “Huh, weird. Ah could have sworn Ah’ve painted this last week. Was it the brand that Ah-”
“Bright!” he heard his wife shout. “Bright! Get in here!”
The stallion went into a full gallop. From her screaming, it sounded like something had gone unexpectedly wrong. Grim scenarios flashed through his head from Granny had a heart attack to one of the children getting hurt as he quickly reached the front door. “Sweetheart, what’s… wrong?” He blinked, “Who rearranged the furniture?”
It was true. Nearly everything from the couch to the pictures on the wall has been moved. Not only have they moved, but there were new additions that neither of them could recognize. There were pictures of ponies that didn’t look familiar to the couple, along with the lamps, carpet, and even the knick-knacks that lay on the bookshelves.
“Ma!” Bright called out. “Ma, is this one of yer jokes?”
“How did all of this happen?” Buttercup asked in total confusion.
“Maybe it’s jus’ this room. Go on up and get yer bag hon.”
However, whatever rational, reasonable explanations that he had about why the living room was rearranged was suddenly ceased when he heard his wife called out, “What happened to our room!”
“What are ya talkin’ about?”
“There is no room!”
Now perplexed, he rushed up the stairs and went straight down the hall to where his wife was standing in the door to find that their bedroom has been replaced by a storage room full of boxes of seasonal decorations.
“The hay is going on?” the mare asked. “Where’s all our stuff? Our bed? Our… everything?”
“Somethin’ weird is defiantly goin’ on.” Bright Mac said as he looked around. He flipped open one of the boxes, “This stuff says ‘Hearths Warming,’ but Ah don’t recognize half of this stuff.”
“Do you think the rest of the house is like this?” Buttercup inquired as she caught something moving from one of the windows. She motioned her husband to come to take a look, “Have you seen him before?” Out by the orchard, a stallion that was about the same built as her spouse was heading towards the barn, pulling a wagon full of apples.
Her husband raised an eyebrow, “Can’t say that Ah has but…” Bright Mac squinted his eyes. “Hold on… there’s somethin’ really familiar about that fella… Ah’m gonna take a closer look.”
Big Macintosh unhooked himself from the cart, his head warm and nearly out of breath from pulling such a heavy load of the farm’s crops to the storage barn, he wiped the sweat from his brow and proceeded towards a sink. The sink itself was in one of the stalls that held some of the farming tools like a hose, rakes, and shovels. After turning it on so he could let the icy waterfall over his head and taking a drink from it, he heard a voice. “Hello? You anypony in here?”
At first, the red-coated stallion as perplexed as he was certain that voice was both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. Turning off the sink, he called out, “Hello?”
“Where are ya?” it was a stallion’s voice no doubt that had an Apple country accent. Yet, somehow, it wasn’t one that didn’t resemble any of the relatives that Big Mac knew. “We wanna ask what you’re doin’ on our farm.”
Now he was confused. The red Apple farmer walked out of the stall to see who had entered. However, before he could ask what he meant by that statement, he froze. There before him were two ponies… ponies that he knew. A mare that had a carrot orange mane with a peach colored coat and sea blue eyes – while the other, a stallion, had the same color scheme as his youngest sister that had… jade green eyes. And on his head, he was wearing a familiar looking Stetson.
“There ya are,” he said as he took a few steps forward. “What ya doin’ on our farm son? Did Granny hire ya as a farmhoof that we didn’t know about?”
However, Big Mac backed away, too stunned to even speak.
“Speak up boy, who are ya?”
The red stallion only shook his head.
Buttercup craned her neck over to the side to get a look at the stranger’s cutie mark. “Hon, look at this. Does his cutie mark look an awfully a lot like our son’s?”
Puzzled, Bright Mac too looked over and spotted the same green apple that he had seen every day. “Hold on…? That’s Big Macintosh’s mark. But…” He looked at the stallion in front of him. “But that’s impossible. Nopony else has a mark like that… or a coat as red… or…” His eyes went wide, “Big Mac? Is that you?”
It was here that the scarlet stallion found his voice, “W-Who‘re Y'all?”
The mare stepped forward, “Mac? It’s Buttercup and Bright Mac.”
“No…” Big Macintosh shook his head in disbelief, then his eyes went spearhead sharp as if his gave were like knives. “Who are ya two, really?” he questioned them, saying the last word through his teeth.
Bright Mac took a step back, “That’s our names.”
“That ain’t possible.” Still keeping that glare, the ruby stallion marched forward. “Ah don’t know who you two are, but if this is y’all’s idea of a joke, this isn’t funny.” He hissed.
“What are ya talkin’ about?”
“Do any of you think Ah’m that stupid!” he yelled. “If you think that either of you could convince me that yer really Bright Mac, or Buttercup, mah parents, Ah ain’t buyin’ it!” His fuming face was right up at the yellow stallion’s. “Get out, both of Y'all. And if ya try to pull somethin’ like this again on this farm, or with any of my family, Ah will get the police to arrest ya fer traspassin’. Now, out!”
“Sweetheart,” Buttercup said, backing her husband away with a hoof. “Let’s get out of here.”
“But he’s kickin’ us out of our-”
“Bright,” she interrupted, eyeing at the fuming stallion. “Let’s, go.”
With a frown, and giving the red stallion a look, he obeyed his wife and walked out of Sweet Apple Acres.