//------------------------------//
// The Father 
// Story: The Father 
// by Canon Fodder 
//------------------------------//

A golden-brown earth pony stepped from the train in Ponyville. He looked around at everything that had changed since he was last there...It was astounding. With a flick of his short, brown and graying mane and twitch of his mustache against the wind, the middle-aged stallion bent down and carried his briefcase into the train station. There he quietly sat on an empty bench and laid the briefcase down as he yawned. Then he crossed his hooves and leaned back in his seat, listening to the creeks in the floor boards as other ponies trot past him. He chuckled to himself, A lot of things changed here in the past ten years but one thing that will never change is this old train station.

Yet the town of Ponyville was still familiar to him. It was amazing how fast places could change after you've left. But the fact remained, the Earth pony was home and nothing could change that. He found it quite peaceful too, a great difference from the rambunctious nature of Manehatten, a city that never slowed down, nor slept. He was relieved to finally be out of there after a long trip.

With a heavy sigh he looked at the streets; entrepreneurs and salesponies of all kinds setting up for the afternoon markets. There were a few shoppers coming around at this time but it would be nothing compared to the usual rush hour. He couldn't believe it, away from Ponyville for eleven years and the markets still ran as normal. The pony was suddenly reminded of his success back in the day. He found himself always optimistic, even in times of economic struggle. Everypony would come to buy his products and return the next day for more.

But his reminiscing was short-lived, he had only sat down on the bench for a moment and already his back was starting to stiffen. He cursed on it then stood up to stretch, sitting on his haunches and twisting side to side to loosen the tension. Thankfully he never had to wait at the station for long. He spotted a stagecoach rolling by and waved his hooves in the air to grab the driver's attention. "Taxi!"

The driver noticed him and waved back. Soon the yellow coach with the black and white checkered stripes around it slowed to a stop in front of the train station. With relieving sigh, the pony brushed some dirt off his suit, picked up his briefcase and walked outside to the vehicle. The pony driving the taxi acknowledged him. "Where are you going?"

He looked around, fascinated with the question. He didn't exactly know where to go first but he had a few places in mind he wanted to see. "Son, do you mind showing me around town? It's been such a long time, I'd like to see what everypony's been up to."

The humble driver was amused with such a strange request but gladly smiled with a laugh. "Hey as long as you got the cash to pay for the ride, I can take you anywhere in Equestria. Hop in!"

"Thanks a lot." He returned happily.

The cabby dismissively waved his hoof. "Not a problem. Just get in, sit back, and enjoy the ride."

With a thankful nod, the middle-aged stallion loaded his belongings into the coach and climbed in sitting next to an opened window. The travelling stallion thanked Celestia that the seats in the coach were much more comfortable than the rickety station benches. They began to roll along and the driver decided to try and make small conversation. "So what's your name? If you don't mind me asking."

"No trouble at all," he chuckled, "the name's Bramley Apple. But you can just call me Bram."

The cabby nodded with a friendly smile spread across his face. "Where're you coming from, Bram?"

"Manehatten. You ever been there?"

"Naw. I've lived in Ponyville my whole life. I know this town like the back of my hoof." He answered with a little too much confidence.

Bramley simply returned his hubris with a polite laugh. "Well I reckon you should, being the driver of a taxi and all. But I say you'd have your hooves quite full in Manehatten. Cabbies out there got their work cut out for ‘em. A nice place to visit, I suppose. But if I had my time back, I wouldn't have moved out."

"What's wrong with Manehatten?" He inquired.

Bramley burst out with another laugh. "What's right with Manehatten? The streets, the pollution, crime rate, speed. Just a whole lot that a pony like me still can't adjust to, but I'm out there anyway."

"Let me guess." The driver said before a short pause, "Money?"

"Eeyup!" he replied vividly, "How'd you know?"

The cabby smirked. "My friend, that's what everypony is doing in Manehatten. A land of opportunity! In fact, I got three cousins living out there and they hate it just as much as you do."

"Oh Yeah?" Bramley beamed, suddenly interested. "Where are they workin'? I might know them."

The driver pondered for a moment, attempting to remember. "Hmmm, let me think. There's Starstruck, she's working in theater arts. Rocky, he's a cabby just like me, and then Vinny...Well, things never really worked out for him since he got himself into trouble with a mob. He's doing alright though, last time I heard anyway. He was always the reckless one. So do you know them?"

The stallion fiddled with his mustache and shook his head. "Nope, can't say I've heard of ‘em. I'm a factory worker myself. Don't get to see much of the outside. Not that Manehatten's Industrial Park is a sight for sore eyes anyhow."

"You're probably right." The driver laughed.

Bramley gazed at all of the new buildings that had gone up since he last visited. Although he noticed the Town Hall hadn’t change very much besides a new roof. Looking back inside, he grabbed a hold his briefcase and opened it. He rummaged around the clutter until he retrieved a gold pocket watch. He called out to the driver again. "Hey son? When we finish this here tour, think you could drop me off a little ways out of town?"

"Sure thing! Where're you heading?"

Bramley opened the pocket watch and smiled at a picture of three foals on the inside, something that made his spirit burn with pride. "Is Sweet Apple Acres too far?"

-----

Down on the ranch, Applebloom had run frantic about the house all morning, trying to earn her cutie-mark, cleaning. She scaled back and forth between the kitchen and living room with the broom. Granny Smith was fast asleep in her rocking chair and never noticed the hyperactive filly in the slightest. Applejack however, was trying to get some work done in the attic and hollered down to get her sister's attention. "What in tarnation is goin' on down there, Applebloom!"

"Nothin' Sis!" the little one called back, spreading the dirt more than sweeping it clean.

AJ simply rolled her eyes and got back to fixing the leak in the roof. Meanwhile, Applebloom resumed her silly adventure and shoved the broom in every little nook and cranny she could find dirt behind. "After this I'll mop the floor. Maybe that'll get me my cutie-mark. I've been sweepin' this dirty floor all mornin'."

Applebloom glanced into the kitchen, catching sight of a bottle of window washer and a rag sitting on the Apple's dinner table. With a keen grin, she pondered. "Hmmmm...I got an idea."

The little filly tossed the broom aside and galloped into the kitchen, climbing up on a chair to obtain the desired items. With her cutie-mark discovering confidence, Applebloom went over to the sink and mistook the window washer for dish liquid. But luckily before she could squirt a drop of the chemical cleaner on the dirty dishes from breakfast, she heard a knock at the door. She grunted. "Who could that be? Doesn't anypony know it takes lots of concentration when somepony's tryin' to earn their cutie-mark?"

The door knocked again. "I'm comin'! Keep yer horseshoes on!"

Applebloom opened the top of the barn door and was met with the face of an unfamiliar stallion with a mustache looking down at her with a delightful smile. "Howdy, little one...Do you know who I am?"

Right away, she slammed the door shut and called out to him in a sly laugh. "My sister told me never to talk to strangers."

Then suddenly Applejack descended from the stairs with a confused frown and a raised brow. "Applebloom! Where's your manners?"

She waved her little sister aside and addressed her before wrapping her hoof around the door knob. "Ya don't just shut the door on somepony. You coulda came to me or Granny Smith." Applebloom rolled her eyes and Applejack opened the door fully to apologize to their visitor. "Ah'm mighty sorry bout that. What can Ah do ya for Mr..."

There was a certain aura about this stallion that made Applejack pause for a moment. There was something about his familiar smile, his familiar hair and mustache. She knew this pony, and she could tell he was waiting for her to find out. He stood in the doorway on his haunches, spanning his forehooves to let her examine him. The short graying mane, the farmer-like build, the rugged mustache, the golden-brown coat, and the cutie-mark to go with it all, a luscious green apple decorating his flank. Then a sudden familiarity arose in her. She was standing face to face with her father, and promptly threw her hooves over his shoulders, the two falling into a warming embrace. "Papa! It's you! You're home!"

"My little Applejack..." He said, swaying his daughter side to side in his hooves, "My stars, you've grown up!"

The young mare was shocked and utterly emotional. It was the first time she'd laid eyes on her father in over a decade. Applejack found it hard to hold back her tears. "Ah’...Ah’...Ah’ jus’…Papa, Ah don't know what to say!"

"You don't need to say anything, Sugar Cube. I'm home," He smiled, breaking from the hug to crouch down to his youngest foal. "So now do you know who I am...little Applebloom?"

The little one's eyes suddenly opened wide. "Yer my Papa?"

The middle-aged stallion nodded happily. "Eeyup, I'm your Papa."

She was too young to remember him but she had always wondered who he was, and she too tackled him with an embrace. Immediately, the thought of her cutie-mark was washed from her mind. Bramley lifted her off the ground and spun her up in the air. "My little girls…"

-----

Shortly after the reuniting, Applejack led her father into the living room where Granny still slumbered. Bramley took the seat opposite of the old mare on the sofa where Applebloom was quick to sit as well, leaving Applejack to sit down in the doorway, setting her father's briefcase down in front of him. "So what brings ya to Ponyville, Pop? How have ya been?"

He twiddled his mustache and chuckled humbly, setting Applebloom on his lap. "What do you think? To see my girls and my boy! Well, that and I have business up in Canterlot needin’ tending to. So I decided to stay here a night or two. And as for your second question, life has been...Interesting. I've been doing a lot but I'm glad to finally set hoof at home again."

"Did ya bring me anything?" The filly asked suddenly, receiving a scold glare from her older sibling.

"Applebloom! Yer not supposed to ask somethin' like that."

"It's alright," Their father laughed, opening the briefcase, "Of course I did. Here you go, Honey Bee."

He offered her what appeared to be a sack of candy, and as the little one beamed gratefully, she accepted the gift and hugged him back. "Thank you, Papa!"

Bramley patted her on the back and winked to her. "Just don't go eatin’ ‘em before supper, it’ll spoil the meal."

"You got it!" Applebloom smiled as she broke from the hug, reaching into the pouch and consuming one of the many chocolates and other sweets inside.

Bramley grinned then lifted her aside to address his eldest daughter. "Now don't you go thinking I forgot my little Sugar Cube." He began to rummage around the case, looking beneath numerous articles of clothing before uncovering a small decorative box. "Here it is, take this."

He tossed over the elegant container and Applejack immediately recognized its age and withered edges. Although it still held a significant beauty to it and AJ opened it up to find a sparkling diamond broach with a gold rim around the stone, and an inscription reading To Amelia, from Bram on the silver back. It didn't take Applejack long to realize the precious heirloom before her. She looked up at her father and smiled a caring smile back at him. "...Thank you, Daddy." She whispered back, trying to conceal a tear.

"It was your Mother's. I knew how you always admired it when you were a filly. I figured she'd want you to have it." He confirmed solemnly.

Among all of the commotion, Granny Smith began to stir from her nap and opened her eyes and found Bramley to be her first image. At first she ignored the stallion and shut her eyes again...Briefly. As soon as the realization hit, the seemingly elderly mare properly leaped from the chair and nearly onto the ceiling. When she had finally landed, she slowly approached him and rubbed a hoof over her long lost son's cheek to assure it wasn't an illusion. "Bram! Bramley, is that you? It can't be!"

Everypony laughed at the startled mare then Bramley returned her question with a hefty laugh. "Yes Ma. It's me."

"W-W-Where did you come from?" She asked, returning to her rocking chair in a state of shock.

To give Granny Smith the clear indication he was truly there, Bramley got up and walked over to kiss his mother on the cheek. "I came in from Manehatten to see you, the girls, and Big Macintosh. Speaking of which, where is my boy? I haven't seen him around yet."

"Aw, Big Mac should be along shortly," Answered AJ, "He went to walk Fluttershy home and drop off some supplies at Sugar Cube Corner."

The unfamiliar name rang in his next question. "Hold on a minute, who's Fluttershy?"

"Oh! Fluttershy is one of my friends." Applejack cleared. "She and Big Mac have been seein' a lot of each other lately."

Bram knew very well what that meant, and he nodded with a proud grin. "I always knew my boy would find the perfect mare."

Unbeknownst to the stallion, Granny Smith gave her son a long and doubtful stare. However, thinking for the girls, she retracted her scowl and tried to be polite for her granddaughters' sake while she crept back down into her rocking chair. "Bram, where are you workin' these days?"

"I'm workin' in a factory over in Manehatten, Ma. It pays good and got great benefits."

Her glare returned. "Well if it's such good pay, then why didn’t ya ever stop by and-"

"Granny, have you taken yer meds yet?" Applejack interjected, cutting her grandmother off from saying anything out of line. "Applebloom, why don't ya go help Granny."

Applebloom, with a mouth full of chocolate, nodded and sprang off the couch. "Sure thing! C'mon Granny, let's go!"

After the little filly left, accompanying the old mare out into the kitchen, Applejack turned back to her father. "Ya hungry, Pa? Want anythin'? That ride from Manehatten musta been a long one and Ah reckon ya could use something."

He shook his head. "Nah. All I want is to spend time with you girls and Big Mac..." Then he began to twiddle his thick mustache as it picked up on a luscious yet spicy fragrance in the air. "Mmm, is that cider I smell?"

“Sure is!” she announced proudly, “Apple family apple cider made from only the best of the crop.”

Bramley couldn’t stop his mouth from watering. The scent was something he hadn’t smelled for years. “My blessed stars, darling, you think I could bother you for a pitch?”

“You bet. Feel free to look around, Pa. I’ll go fetch ya some.”

“You’re sweet, Applejack. Bless your heart.” Her father thanked. Applejack trotted away into the kitchen while Bramley took up on her suggestion. The aging Apple lifted himself off the couch, feeling three wicked cracks in his spine no thanks to the long trip from the East. After caressing his back, the stallion began to walk around the room. All along the walls and window sills were photographs of the Apples’ fondest memories. He passed pictures of the Apples harvesting crops, and other significant pictures such as Applejack competing in numerous rodeos, Granny Smith holding Applebloom when she was younger, and of course his son, Big Macintosh, posing in a photo with a pegasus mare at what seemed to be a town fair. 

Though a vast majority of pictures were taken recently, thus excluding the middle-aged Apple, Bramley still felt his heart in all of them, but none of them came to him without regret. He’d been absent for the wrong reason and there was no excuse for it. But despite that, he was happy to know his family was able to move on, sticking together. He shuddered to think whether Big Macintosh was going to accept his return or not.

After Bramley had finished his walk down memory lane, he looked out one of the windows and peered across the field of Sweet Apple Acres, the morning sun just brushing over the trees and illuminating each and every delicious red fruit with a graceful sparkle. More and more of Bramley’s regret was sinking in. How could I have been so darned foolish to leave this place?

“Daddy?”

The sudden outburst startled Bramley. He spun around and found Applejack who returned with a mug of cider wrapped in her hoof. “Whatcha starin’ at?”

“Just checking out the ol’ orchard. The country’s beautiful around this time of year.” He commented.

“Ya got that right! Then again, Ah can’t recall a time when Sweet Apple Acres wasn’t beautiful. Whether it be Spring, Summer, Autumn, or even the dead of Winter. Ah betcha can’t find sights like this in Manehatten!” Applejack mused, knowing very well of the city’s livelihood and sometimes repugnant reputation.

Then Bramley gave his daughter the most amusing stare as he made his way over to take the offered cider. “Sugar Cube, you don’t know the half of it! Every day I see the routine sights: Pollution, crime, smog, garbage, dying grass. To be fair however, Manehatten does have its heights every now and again. I just happen to work in a very poorly kept sector of the city. But eeyup! It sure does make you miss scenes like this.”

He focused his fixation to the fields outside, returning to his previous spot on the couch with the mug of cider in hoof. After taking a long and satisfying gulp, he acknowledged the orchard itself. "I noticed you're taking good care of the farm. Certainly looks better than the state I left it in. I'm proud."

"Aww Shucks. No need to say that, Daddy. Jus’ doin’ by whatcha taught us." Applejack blushed. 

He chuckled. "You always had your mother’s intuition and determination. I just knew you would make a success out of this place, and you have. Although I gotta say that Ponyville has changed so much since I've been gone. I dread to think what Canterlot is like."

She laughed as well. "Oh, it's not too bad, aside from the usual pompous ponies, it’s the same as it’s been all through the ages…Ah missed you."

Bramley found it hard to believe Applejack would be so forgiving, he knew he didn’t deserve such sympathy, but he couldn’t deny that he felt the same way. "...I missed you too, Applejack."

He laid down his cider and stood up to hug his daughter, kissing her on the forehead like he’d done every night when she was a filly. Applejack snuggled her muzzle underneath her father’s shoulder lovingly; she realized how much she missed the way he made her feel so secure. “I know I’ve made some mistakes in the past, Applejack. Mistakes that can’t be forgotten, but let me assure you that I am truly so-“ 

*knock, knock, knock...*

Before Bramley could finish what he was about say, there was a sudden knocking at the door. Applejack looked up at Bramley eagerly; she knew who it was, and was certain that he knew too. As Bramley stood in the threshold of the living room and hallway, Applejack proceeded to greet the newcomer, a peppy grin planted on her face. She opened the door and there was Big Macintosh, holding a crate on his back, and a heavy one at that. His sister took notice of his quivering hooves on the verge of collapsing from the freight’s concrete mass, and the look of sheer torture on his face. Applejack couldn’t help to hold back a humored chuckle of amusement. “Well, that looks a might heavy.”

“E-E-E-Eeyup!” he replied nervously.

“Did the Cakes get their order?” She asked, still tittering.

“E-E-E-Eeyup!”

“And Ah take it that we got our new shipment of fertilizer? Which by the look a’ things, is about flatten you more than a flat apple tart.”

Big Mac’s rear-hooves suddenly buckled, sliding the crate on his back but the muscular stallion dug deep and forced himself to his hooves. The red pony was sweating bullets and becoming irritable with his younger sibling. “Eey-y-yup, Uh AJ? Ya mind givin’ me a hoof here?”

Finally Applejack shut herself up and deemed it time to help her brother unload that crate before Big Macintosh was wearing his harness on his hooves. “Ah don’t know why you didn’t jus’ leave the darned thing on the wagon.”

“Jus’…Get it off me, will ya?” He groaned.

At last when the massive cargo plopped to the ground next to him, the workhorse took great pleasure in stretching out every muscle in his body, hearing the joints in his legs pop into place once again. As he let Applejack unload the fertilizer, Big Macintosh figured he’d take a break for a minute or two. Then when he went inside and shut the door, he turned towards the living room and stopped dead in his tracks. At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Before him standing in the doorway was Bramley, his father.  There was an absence in Big Mac’s mind. The look on his tired face suddenly shifted to utter shock, unable to neither move nor say anything to the older stallion. There was a long and inquisitive stare before Bramley eventually broke the silence. “Hello, Son. Long-time no see…”

Then Big Macintosh believed his sights, it really was his father. Returning for what, he knew not. But he had a feeling he would know soon enough. Not knowing what to say in the midst of this surprise visit, he said the only word on his mind. “Eeyup.”

It wasn’t the greeting he was hoping for, but it was enough for the smile to beam across Bramley’s face as he practically dove into his son, throwing his hooves over his shoulders. At first he was taken aback by the show of affection, but even so, Big Macintosh returned his gesture and patted his father on the back. “My boy, you’ve grown right up! Look at you!”

“Eeyup. Sure has been a while…Pop.” He replied, unsure of his own sincerity.

The older Apple stood in front of Big Mac, taking a proper look at his son. He gave him the proud look any father would give. However, Big Macintosh didn’t see that look. “Wow,” Bramley exhaled, “Ten years and you’ve sprouted up just like that!”

“Eleven, Pop…” The somber stallion corrected.

“Well, close enough.” Bram chuckled. He put a hoof around Big Mac’s shoulder and began to walk him into the living room. “I can’t wait to catch up with you, Son. We have so much to talk about.”

Big Macintosh found this scenario to be all too surreal. Bramley Apple, his Father, was the last pony he expected to see ever again. What could be behind it? He didn’t know, but unresolved issues or not, Big Mac allowed himself to follow his father and walked side by side into the living room.

-----

“So there I was, recovering from my leg surgery, when I get a knock my apartment door…”

It had been a long and eventful morning for the Apples. As Granny Smith was preparing for dinner, Bramley had so far spent the entirety of the visit recalling his experiences in Manehatten. Mostly, it was stories about his career at the factory. It was seldom to actually hear about his personal life there. Almost as if he didn’t want to talk about it. Compared to his work tales, they were sped up and rushed. It stuck out, to Big Macintosh anyway. As for his two sisters, they were enveloped into the life of their father, interested to hear everything he had to say. Big Mac however, was more concerned with why Bramley had come home. But despite that, he remained quiet for his sisters and let Bramley tell his stories. “I hobble on over to the door, and ask who it was. Turns out, it was one of my boys down at the plant. His name was Chimney Soot, we called him Sooter for short, and he’s a joker too so keep that in mind-“

“Soup’s on everypony! Come n’ get it!” Granny Smith called out from the kitchen.

“Be right out, Ma!” Bramley answered, “Jus’ gonna finish this here story. So anyway-“

“Don’t gimme none o’ that jibber-jabber, sonny!” the mare interjected, poking her head around the corner. “Move yer caboose, all of ya’ll!”

As feeble as she may have looked, the elderly green Apple still had the soul and voice of a drill sergeant, which made every one of her grandchildren nearly stand at attention, complying with her order immediately.

“Don’t worry, Daddy. You can finish the story during the feed,” Applejack reassured. “Ah wanna hear more bout’ this Chimney Soot.”

Bramley gave his daughter a hefty laugh. “Oh, Believe me, Sugar Cube, I’ll be tellin a lot of stories about Sooter. He’s one of a kind, he is.”

Then just as they left the living room, Big Macintosh was grabbed by the shoulder and taken aside by his father in the hall. “What is it, Pop?”

The elder stallion had a sheepish look about his face. “I was hoping to find a better time to give you this but it looks like this might be our only time to be alone.”

Big Mac was puzzled, but remained silent and waited as Bramley retreated to his briefcase for a moment and returned with two items. A letter and a gold pocket watch. He hoofed over the letter first. “Here’s a letter. I’ve written it to you but it’s not the time to open it yet.”

“Well, when do Ah?” Big Mac asked.

“Three weeks.”

“…Three weeks?” His son repeated, now even more confused. “Why so long?”

Bram laughed a small chuckle and shook his head. “Just do it. Next, I want to give you this; your grandfather’s pocket watch, which he passed down to me, which I am passing down to you.” The golden casing was gleaming just like it was brand new; it had an intricate design of an apple engraved on the front, and the flipside was the initials of Big Macintosh’s grandfather, C.A., Cortland Apple. Bramley offered the family heirloom and Big Macintosh scooped it into his hooves, opened the case and found the slow-ticking hands of the aged device in the bottom half, and an old photo of himself and Applejack on the reverse of the cover. “It was his old watch from when he used to work the trains in Dodge Junction during the summers. It doesn’t keep that great of time anymore but I knew you always liked, and it’s a nice heirloom.”

“Eeyup. It’s real nice, Pop,” He acknowledged, “Thanks. Now, are ya sure Ah can’t open this fer three weeks? Seems like an awfully long time for a letter.”

His father shook his head at him again. “Three weeks, then you can open it. Now come on, we don’t wanna keep Granny and your sisters waiting.”

-----

One by one, each member of the Apple siblings made their way around into the dining room, which was enriched with the aroma of homemade soup, fresh veggies taken from the garden the night before. Again, the old mare was more than she seemed, each bowl on the table was filled to the brim with a steamed helping of Granny’s divine soup. It took Bramley a moment to remember the familiar scent. He recalled his mother’s heavenly creation always living up to its reputation, and it still did. Every bowl was concocted with diced potatoes, bright carrots, golden turnips, corn, celery, and everything a farm pony could imagine, soaked in a toasty broth of high quality spices from town.

Normally Granny Smith was the pony at the head of the table. However, she seemed content with allowing Bramley to be seated there, taking the seat adjacent to him instead. Finally, once everypony was settled in for the meal, Granny Smith allowed to Bramley to continue his story, but not without diving into his first spoonful of his mother’s long sought soup. He wrapped the spoon in his fetlock and loaded a spoonful of the dinner into his mouth. He let the soup settle in his stomach before he smacked his lips and went for another helping. “You still got it, Ma. You and your cookin’ skill is like a fine wine, it tastes better with age.”

Everypony laughed at Bramley’s remark, save for Granny Smith who was giving her son a scolding look. He winked at her as he swallowed another spoonful. “You know I’m joking.” He said, patting the old pony on the back.

“So what about this here, Sooter, you were gabbin’ on 'bout?” Asked a curious Applebloom.

Her father nodded. “Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. Sooter stopped over to the apartment one day to do some catching up since I was laid off with the company. He was one of the lucky ones that avoided the ol’ axing of the jobs. It was a normal conversation between him and me, nothing unusual, just everyday topics. However, after breaking the ice and getting into a nice conversation, he begins to telling me that they started taking back workers at the plant a week earlier. At that point I was a little disappointed because if I was worth anything to the company, I’m sure they would have called me days before…Then Chimney goes ahead and tells me he took my job! Right out of the blue, not even a build-up to it. My closest friend at work, Chimney Soot, steals my job as forepony! Well, I’ll tell you, I may have been recovering from surgery but I was positive it wasn’t going to stop me from beating the flank off this pony.”

As expected, it didn’t come as a surprise for Applebloom to interject at that moment. “Wowwie, did ya really pound‘em?”

Her enthusiasm for such a derogative nature couldn’t hide Bramley’s heavy chuckle, shaking his head shortly after. “No, sweetie, I didn’t. Like I said, Sooter was a joker. Damn city pony pulling my horseshoes. He jus’ wanted to see my blood pressure rise and told me his good news before he told me my good news. Turns out I was promoted as well, to dispatcher. This meant more responsibility on the job but more dough in my pocket.”

“Well that’s jus’ dandy, Daddy,” Applejack praised, “Ya musta been pretty happy bout’ that.”

Bramley returned her daughter’s gesture with a thankful nod. “Oh, Honey, you don’t even know how relieved I was to hear that. The promotion was jus’ a bonus, being hired on again was a life saver. So, broken leg or no broken leg, I was back on the job Monday mornin’ on my own accord.”

Meanwhile, Big Macintosh remained silent in his seat at the opposite end of the table, merely prodding at his soup with the spoon, taking a bite every now and again. His appetite was small tonight. Normally, after a long day’s work, the large pony couldn’t wait to dig into his supper, but his father’s abrupt turn-up had come to him as a complete shocker and had driven his appetite away. Despite his feelings, however, Big Mac broke his silence for the sake of making polite dinner conversation. “Sounds like a pretty hefty job, bein’ a dispatcher n’all.”

“Well I think dispatcher’s just a fancy way of saying head manager; because at the end of the day, that’s all I’m really doing.”

The red stallion simply nodded in response. “Eeyup.”

Everypony at the table was glancing at Big Macintosh at that moment, even this much of a timid nature was not commonly seen in the quiet workhorse. Fortunately for Applejack, she didn’t have to decipher much of her brother’s body language to figure out what was on his mind. When he lifted his head from his bowl, Big Macintosh found her eldest sister giving him an encouraging smile. He knew the mare only meant well for him, but he simply didn’t know how to feel. Happy or angry, it was as if he was teetering on a scale, unsure of where his emotions stood in the balance. Either way, he returned AJ’s smile with an assuring one of his own.

“Not exactly much of a talker, are ya, son?” Bramley chuckled, receiving another small grin from the pony, “Well, you never were. I remember that time me and you trotted on up to the north orchard one afternoon and I never heard a peep out of you, save for the bucking anyway. Yes, that was the day your Uncle Apple Cobbler came to visit. You were always very shy of him, I don’t know why, but I’m glad you turned out to be just the way I thought you would. Applejack even told me you gotta girl in town.”

“Oh, you mean Fluttershy?” Applebloom interjected.

An eager Bramley nodded in response. “Yeah, that’s her name. Fluttershy.”

“And would ya believe that she’s even shyer than Big Mac, here?” Applejack added, playfully hitting her brother in the shoulder, who blushed at her sly grin.

“Interesting, well I must say I’d like to hear about her. How’d you two end up meeting?” The middle-aged requested, nonchalantly brushing off a bit of the soup that’d spilled over his brown coat as he had quickly cleaned away the soup in his bowl.

It wasn’t the most comfortable topic to discuss among a practically complete stranger, but Big Macintosh answered the question to continue the conversation. “Well, Pop, not really much t’say. Me and her had been friends fer a while…Jus’ what some ponies call chemistry, Ah suppose. It wasn’t easy to open up considerin’ how right you were about me being a timid pony. But Ah guess when you feel a certain way bout’ somepony, emotions speak louder than anything else, and that’s how we felt bout’ each other in the end of it.”

The humble Bramley gave a content nod, chuckling proudly. “That’s amazing the way you jus’ put that to words. I’m assuming she was that cute little pegasus I seen you with in that photo.”

“Eeyup,” nodded Big Mac.

“Eeyup, she seems like the shy type too,” His father laughed, “Reminds me of the way your mother was when we first started dating. At times it was nearly impossible to get a word outta of her. Even at her parents’, she was seldom heard. Did you know that little filly was your mother? It was three months before I got to hold her hoof, eight months before I could hug her, over a year until I could kiss her. She was as bashful as they came. It finally took a moonlit dance and a proposal to get her out of that shell. Hard to believe I toughened her out to be a rough and tough Apple like me, if not rougher. I remember the way I used to get her going…She always hated it when I kidded around when she was trying to be serious. But she knew I meant well in the end. Nope, she certainly wasn’t shy then.” 

All of a sudden, there was a somber mood that cascaded over the room. The origin of its suddenly dulled atmosphere radiating from Bramley’s unforeseen and rather swift change in mood, as his posture had quickly gone from uplifted to dreary. “Funny isn’t it? Just think, all those years ago she thought I was doing her the favor when I asked for her hoof in marriage…When really, come to think of it, she was doing me one instead, and I never got to tell her that…I’ll always miss her.”

The stallion’s lament loomed over the table like the setting sun over the horizon. Eleven years was a long time for change, but Bramley still grieved for the mare he loved the most. Granny Smith, Applebloom, Applejack and even Big Macintosh felt pity for the aging, widowed stallion. His once blissful eyes were now filled with subtle heartache. “Little Applebloom, I recall your birth being one the happiest moments of her life, because she knew then that you were the pony that completed the family. Applejack, your mama loved to see you up and about every day, living life to the fullest and helping anypony you could along the way, despite being the little pony you was back then. And Big Macintosh, you were particularly noticed by your mother to have the same personality, yet a heart of gold to go with it. You always held a special place in your mother’s heart. Now don’t get me wrong, we all loved you equally, but your ma always said Applejack was my daughter, and Big Macintosh was her son, because the personalities went hoof and hoof. She was one heck of a-“

“C-Can we stop talkin bout’ Mama, Pop?” Big Mac cut in, looking very unsettled. “Ain’t there nothin’ else ya’ll can discuss?”

The sudden interruption from the usually content stallion brought himself to the full attention of the dinner table yet again, but thankfully Bramley had no problem obeying to his son’s request. It was clearly obvious to him that Big Macintosh was still very upset about his mother’s passing. It was a touchy subject. Although it never stopped the Apple family from conversing about other things, but for the rest of the dinner after Big Mac’s outburst, the whole conversation had a much more awkward and colder atmosphere.

-----

Later that day, while the sun shone dominantly over the luscious fields of Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack and Big Macintosh were continuing their usual chores of the day, apple-bucking throughout the farm. Although today they had company with their returned father exploring nearby, taking in the scenery he left those many years ago.

Autumn time at Sweet Apple Acres always kept the family busy and moving. However, there had been a haunting atmosphere surrounding Big Macintosh ever since Bramley brought up the subject of their deceased mother, and Applejack was concerned about it. She knew the return of their father wouldn’t bring out the best in him, but the mare didn’t expect the troubled conscience to loom over her brother’s head so heavily. She never seen him so down before, and it was even affecting his apple-bucking.

She finally decided to prod at the predicament and approached her brother. “Can Ah have word with ya fer a second, big brother?” 

“Eeyup,” he replied, not breaking cycle with his apple-bucking, “What about?”

AJ continued working as well, bucking the tree next to her older sibling while still holding the conversation. “Well, you’ve seemed kinda quiet an’ all ever since dinner, and Ah mean quieter than usual…There something botherin’ ya, Sugar Cube?”

“Nnope,” He swiftly answered, still bucking.

The orange mare next to him cocked a brow, obviously confused about his quick answer. However, she continued to dig into the mystery. “You still mad bout’ me fer not lendin’ you a hoof with that freight instead of laughing my guts out?”

“Nnope.”

“Granny’s soup puttin’ yer stomach in knots?”

“Nnope.”

Applejack sighed; she was finished beating around the bush. She knew the subject was inevitable to bring up. “Is it about Daddy?”

“…” This time, there was no reply. It definitely wasn’t a yes, but Applejack knew she was getting closer to the heart of the issue. She noticed the suddenly harsher kick Macintosh delivered when the subject of Bramley came up.

“…Is it bout’ Daddy, and what he did?” Applejack pushed, slowly dragging out the question, believing her previous thoughts to be true.

Again the complete silence and the aggressive apple-bucking was all that was heard from the somber stallion. Applejack was positive it was the problem but she wanted to hear from him. “Well? Is it?”

Knowingly beaten, Big Macintosh finally spoke out. “AJ...Ah don’t wanna be talkin’ bout’ this right now. Can we jus’ back to bucking these here apples? Granny wants this side of the orchard finished up by sundown.” 

“Big brother, ya can’t avoid it forever,” Applejack argued, “you’ve been actin’ strange ever since ya’ll laid eyes on each other.”

As a cascade of Red Delicious rained down into the basket below, Big Macintosh ignored the interrogation and moved onto the next tree over, but that wasn’t going to stop the persistent Applejack. “And not talkin’ bout’ it isn’t good fer ya, neither. Ya can’t let these feelings fester up inside. Especially it bein’ eleven years an’ all…We knew this day was comin’. It was all a matter of bein’ ready fer it.”

The burly stallion sighed, but he didn’t let that distract from the work at hoof. He lifted his hind-legs into the air, winded-up a kick, and shot both hooves into the dense bark of the apple tree, dropping a few apples into the basket. Applejack had stopped working at this point, quickly losing her nonchalant demeanor and clearly pried on her brother’s emotions. “Ah know it’s hard fer us to accept what he’s done, but we have to learn to live with it. The past can’t be undone as much as we want it to.”

Then Applejack got up and walked over to Big Macintosh, stopped in front of him and rested a hoof on his shoulder as he prepared for another buck. “He did a terribly bad thing, but he’s still our father.”

Finally Big Macintosh had had enough. He rocketed his hooves into the cracked bark once more before slamming them back on the ground. “What father are you talkin’about? We haven’t had a father in years!”

Applejack retorted her hoof from him in shock and gave her brother a scolding stare. “Big Macintosh! Ah don’t believe what you jus’ said!”

“Would ya jus’ wake up, AJ?” He scowled. “Ah’ve been goin’ out of my mind all day tryin’ to figure why he’s here and why you, Applebloom, and even Granny Smith have been so forgiving.”

Applejack simply rolled her eyes to his argument. “You don’t think he’s tryin’ to make peace fer what happened? Ah mean, he did come all the way from Manehatten y’know. That’s not exactly an easy trip to make these days.”

“He’s here fer nothing of the kind!” he countered, slamming a hoof into the ground, “AJ, sometimes Ah think you’re too soft. Pop never even showed up to Mama’s funeral! He wasn’t even there when she died!”

There was no doubt in Applejack’s mind now that Big Mac was running on emotion as opposed to rationality. “Big Macintosh, ya know there was no way Papa was gonna make it home in that blizzard. You should know, ya’ll were out in it when ya went to find the doctor.”

“What are you putting me through, Applejack? The ingrate left his own foals when they needed him the most!” he hollered, “Don’t you remember all those night you were cryin’ yerself to sleep, asking me n’ Granny every day when Daddy was comin’ home? Well here’s yer answer: eleven years! Eleven fatherless years! Eleven years of me havin’ quit school and support this family, and in case he didn’t know, Ah’ve been more of a father than he could ever be!”

Applejack was about to retort again, but then she knew it would be pointless, because she was trying to argue with a stubborn wall. There was nothing she could say to defend her father. He was right; he did desert them, but she let her anger out a long time ago, and it was about time Big Mac should do the same. “Ya know what yer problem is? You’ve been living with this anger bottled up for all these years. Ah mean look at ya! Yer one of the gentlest ponies round these parts. Ya hardly ever raise yer voice, sometimes Ah think yer too quiet. Ya never learned to rid of that beef ya got with Papa, and that’s the reason why yer gettin’ so worked up! If ya jus’ sat down and talked things over, maybe you’d feel better.”

But despite her advice, the distraught Apple sibling still felt betrayed and cheated. “…Listen, yer not ten-years old anymore, yer old enough to understand that he wasn’t enough of a stallion to take care of his own foals. What makes you think he is now? He never loved us enough to take care of us.”

“Don’t you believe in second chances?” Applejack pushed. “He is our daddy, Big Macintosh.”

“As far as Ah’m concerned, my daddy died a long time ago.”

With that, Big Macintosh gave the tree one final kick then began to trot off. AJ called after him. “Where in blazin’ hay are you goin’?”

“As far away from him as possible!” he shouted back, “Ah’m not gonna let him push his way of life down on me!”

Applejack ran after him, determined to stop the stallion and talk some sense into him, but just as the mare caught up with Big Macintosh, he turned around and shoved her sister down. She landed with a grunt, nearly petrified by the aggressiveness the usual gentle pony unleashed. “What’s the matter with you?” She asked, sitting on the ground astonished.

“Ah don’t need yer company, AJ. Jus’ go back to work, will ya?”

Applejack picked herself up. “Ya mean yer really leavin’?”

“Eeyup!”

Applejack began to tear up; frustrated with the thick-headed Big Macintosh. “Well…Fine! Go on then!” she snapped back. Then AJ turned right around and went back to work, keeping her hat tilted to conceal her watered eyes.

Big Macintosh and Applejack parted, each mumbling something underneath their breath and were soon out of sight of each other. But unbeknownst to the Apple siblings, there was a third party to the conversation. Coming out from behind a tree nearby, was Bramley. He had heard the entire conversation from the point where the other two had started yelling. Every hurtful word dug into the pained heart of the father. At first he was urged to go chase down his distraught son, but then suddenly the older stallion felt a strange feeling coming on, and began to sway back and forth, his eyelids batting open and shut. Bramley tried to fight the weariness off, but he soon put a hoof to his heart then leaned against the tree, breathing heavier than before, letting his body slouched down and resting at the bottom of the tree.

He laid there for several minutes, pondering over his past sins and thinking about his only son. He had failed him, and there wasn’t a sorry in the world that was going to help. He was very aware of his son’s bizarre behaviour, and Bramley could only think of one way to relieve Big Mac’s mind. So the older stallion slowly rose from the ground and brushed some of the dirt of his coat then began trotting back to the barn.

-----

Before leaving the farm, Big Macintosh snuck back into his room upstairs. He made sure to carefully shut the door then slowly made his way across the wooden floorboards. He stopped next to his bed and sat down, opening his nightstand drawer. He rummaged through his belongings until he came across a pouch. He picked it up and gave it a slight shake. It pleased the stallion when the sound of coins jingled inside. 

Then Big Mac closed the drawer and went to leave, until he saw the glimpse of his grandfather’s golden pocket watch glistening off the afternoon sunlight that shone through his bedroom window. He looked beneath it and there was the letter addressed to him. It still dazzled his mind to no end why he had to wait three weeks to read one letter. But then he started to guess it was some sort of foul play. 

“Old fool must be tryin’ to stick me with a bill he can’t pay off.” He muttered.

With curiosity growing, the young stallion found it hard to pass up such an opportunity. He knew he had promised his father not to open it until the time being, but in the mood he was in, he wasn’t keeping any promises to Bramley. So he scooped the watch into the pouch of coins and took the letter gripped between his teeth, using both hooves to pull and tear away the top part of the envelope. He spit the paper out his mouth then blew inside the opened envelope to expand the opening. He reached inside and pulled out the letter.

He unfolded it and pressed it against the floor to flatten the creases out then took it back in his hooves to read it:

Big Macintosh:

I’m sorry for making you wait so long before you could finally open this letter, but I felt this was the only way I could tell you. By the time you will have read this, I’ll be gone. No, I don’t mean gone as in left town. I mean gone as in, passed on. My one true aspiration I sought for when I became a father was to give my foals everything I could in this world. But after I left, that dream seemed hopeless. However, I always tried to make good on my promises in life, especially when it came to my own foals.

A few weeks ago, I arrived in Ponyville. Though you thought I came from Manehatten, I actually departed from Canterlot. Truth be have it, I left Manehatten several months ago to be closer to my specialist. You see, I never came to visit to say hello.

I was saying good-bye.

It is hard for a father to tell this to his own son, even when it’s through a letter, but I had been diagnosed with a defective heart four years ago. The medication only got me so far. The reason I wanted you to read this in three weeks’ time, was because that was how long I was given to live.

I was dying, Big Macintosh, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t afford the heart transplant and I wouldn’t want to live with the debt if I did. So I boarded the train to Dodge Junction and decided to live out my last couple weeks in the town where your mother and I met, but I had to visit you and your sisters one last time, to make amends. I couldn’t die without knowing you and the family were alright. So it won’t be hard for me pass on when it’s time.

Shortly upon reading this letter, you will be contacted by the executor of my will from Canterlot. I’ve given her the information to reach you…Be sure to look after your sisters. You’re all they have in this world with your mama and me gone. I know you’ll do well in our absence, because you got the spirit of an Apple, and you’re all supposed to stick together. I just wish I could have conveyed that sort of spirit eleven years ago. Farewell Big Macintosh, never forget that I will always love you, Applejack, and little Applebloom.

Your father, Bramley Apple

Big Macintosh let the letter sink in. He couldn’t imagine why his father wouldn’t want to admit his health. But then as thought more about it, the hostility he was showing toward Bramley hadn't made it so easy for him to open up. He read the letter again to assure him he hadn’t missed anything, and then recalled all the hurtful things he said about Bramley to Applejack. Suddenly the troubled face that once showed anger, now showed sorrow. He slipped the letter back into the envelope and slid it inside the pouch along with the watch. Then quietly, the red stallion creaked the door open just wide enough so he could leave. When he crossed the threshold and shut the door, he stopped for a moment and sighed. Reading that letter had flushed out all the anger he held for his father, and instead he began feeling sorry for what he said.

-----

It had been an hour since Big Macintosh snuck off the Ranch to let himself think, and he had walked for so long he had found himself back in Ponyville, just turning off from the Sweet Apple Acres trail and wounding up in the town plaza. The sun was beginning and settle over the treeline just beyond town, and there were few ponies roaming the street, some paying greetings to Big Mac as he passed by, but the bleak stallion merely nodded at the acknowledgment, almost as if he was in a hypnotic trance.

His father had been on his mind the entire way. He shuttered to think of things he had said about him. What could he do? He didn’t know whether he should admit his wrongdoings and forgive his father’s terrible past actions, or just leave well enough alone and live with the consequences. He was stuck between his morals. Bramley did not want him to open the letter until three weeks had passed, but Big Macintosh did not want to leave his father without giving one last good-bye before his time. It was a mess; he needed to rest.

When he stopped to cross the road, he peeked up and spotted the iconic cupcake perched upon a gingerbread-like building in the distance. His taste buds started to water his mouth; just thinking about a glass of cider was like a quenching in itself. Eagerly, Big Macintosh picked up his pace and made his way across the boulevard to reach the stoop of Sugar Cube Corner, the immense aroma of baked delights slowly accumulating in the air.

As he pushed through the door, a bell chimed from above, signalling to the Cakes that a customer had arrived. Crossing the threshold between the outdoors and small café was very noticeable. The cold and windy autumn air had suddenly been replaced by the warm and humid atmosphere of the bakery. A sorrowful Big Macintosh trotted into the near silence of Sugar Cube Corner, taking a seat in the farthest booth from the door. He did not intend to be seen nor recognized, not in his mood. However, it wasn’t long until Mr. Cake immerged from the swinging doors pushing a trolley with various sweets adorning its top. 

After he rolled the trolley to a stop near the front door, he reached into the pocket of his apron and pulled out a sign, unfolding it to have it stand on the garnished trolley of sweets reading Complimentary Samples. It wasn’t until then he brought his eyes up and found the shop to be completely empty, save for Big Macintosh sitting in the very back corner of the restaurant. "Well, good evening, Big Mac! Didn’t even notice you. What brings you here?” He asked, laughing as he approached the farm pony.

At first Big Mac never took notice or even heard Carrot's greeting from across the room, but as his hoofsteps became louder, he broke from his trance-like state and greeted the other stallion back. “Oh uhh, howdy Mr. Cake…Ah was jus’ trottin’ through the neighborhood and Ah figured Ah’d stop by fer a bit of that cider Ah dropped off today, if that wouldn’t be troublin’ ya’ll too much.”

Mr. Cake gave him a content smile and chuckled. “Well, normally we don’t start serving cider until after eight, but since it’s you I don’t see the trouble in it.” Then he leaned in and winked at him. “Just don’t tell Mrs. Cake,” he whispered.

Shortly after Carrot departed with the order, Big Macintosh suddenly remembered the pouch of coins he’d been carrying in his fetlock. Curiously, he set the bag down and unraveled the strings to expand its opening. He emptied the contents, spilling out on the table the letter, an abundance of pocket change, and his grandfather’s old time piece. The ambient lighting of the bakery glistened off its ancient finish and attracted Big Mac to examine it. He picked it up, studying its professionally engraved artwork. The apple on its front was appealing to look at, and the gold made it even more valuable. Then when he brought his hoof over the top and clicked down on the button, the tiny watch door flicked open and the face of the watch was exposed. However, it wasn’t the soothing tick of the aged heirloom that caught his attention; it was what was on the other side of the door.

At first the image didn’t mean much, but now the picture of Big Macintosh and his sister Applejack was bringing back many fond memories of their foalhood. The picture depicted in the door of the watch was of a far younger Macintosh, lying in the middle of the Sweet Apple Acres field, playing some sort of game as he held his sister up on his hooves. The reminiscing brought a brief yet pleased smile to the stallion’s face. He remembered that day like it was just yesterday.

After taking his gaze away from the gilded family artifact, his eyes once again fell upon his father’s letter with the top half of the envelope torn off, reminding him of the situation at hand. He set the time piece aside and dropped his head into his hooves, rubbing his temples over and over again. Eventually, Mr. Cake returned with a foaming mug of Sweet Apple Cider. “Here you go, Big Macintosh, fresh from the barrel.”

“Much obliged,” he replied, taking the mug in his hoof. Almost like a thirsty foal, Big Mac brought it to his lips and took a long and chilling gulp. 

As he put the cider down, the farm pony bundled up a few of the coins on the table and handed them out to Carrot. However, Mr. Cake declined his offer. “It’s on the house, Big Mac. Just wouldn’t feel right charging an Apple for their family’s cider. Besides, that was quite a heavy load you were carrying today. It’s the least I could do.”

“Errr, you shore bout’ that?” He asked unsure, considering it went against an Apple’s pride to accept unwanted favors. But despite that, Carrot took the coins and placed them back on the table shortly after, giving the stallion a cheeky grin before he headed back off to finish some chores. Then suddenly Big Mac called after him. “Mr. Cake? Can Ah ask ya somethin’?”

“Well, sure, I don’t see why not.” Mr. Cake stood in place and waited for Big Macintosh to continue, but the opposing stallion was hesitant. There was a long pause and Carrot discovered his customer was suddenly looking somewhat distraught. “Well, what is it?”

He began to fiddle with the letter, flipping it in his hooves as if to search for his question again. “Well Ah…Ah was jus’ enquirin’ if you knew what the executor of a will does.”

“Executor of a will?” Carrot repeated, “Well, nothing until somepony passes away.”

The perplexing and suspicious query left Mr. Cake to guess that there was indeed something out of place. Out of concern, Carrot returned to Macintosh’s side. “Big Macintosh, are you feeling alright?”

“Hey. Customer, fella." Called a familiar voice.

The two of them looked over their shoulders and spotted a golden brown earth pony with a briefcase entering the small bakery. He was a pony Big Macintosh knew all too well by appearance. But this time, he was draped in a worn grey suit and an old black cowpony hat sitting upon his head. Mr. Cake stood at attention to greet his new guest. “Good evening, Sir. What can I do for you?“

Bramley set down his briefcase, removed his hat and had it hung on a nearby rack before starting his walk over. As he passed Carrot Cake, he stopped and answered. “Pardon me, not to be rude or nothin’, but would I be able to have word with my son if it’s not too much trouble?”

The baker froze, puzzled to say the least. “Your son?” However, despite being outright inquisitive of the ordeal, Mr. Cake gave his respect and held out his hoof, leading to where Big Macintosh sat, “But of course. Excuse me.”

With that, Mr. Cake returned to his chores, and Big Mac and his father were left alone. Big Mac was sure to slip the letter back into the coin purse so Bramley wouldn’t notice the tear in the top of the envelope. At first his father simply stood there, smiling contentedly. However, there had been no eye contact between the two of them since he walked in the store. Big Macintosh continued to stare deeply at the watch he was fiddling with in his hooves. Then, finally, his father spoke up with a somber tone. “Hey Son, I’m taking off now for Manehatten, but I…Hmm. Well I couldn’t leave on a bad note like that.”

“Bad note?” He asked, “What do ya mean?”

Bram chuckled, “I heard what you and yer sister were arguing about.”

Suddenly, Big Macintosh felt his heart sink deeper into his stomach; now he felt even more ashamed. Finally Big Macintosh decided to break away from the pocket watch and looked up at the middle-aged stallion. “Well Ah had some time to myself to think about it…and Ah shouldn’t have acted like that.” He admitted, dumbfounded in his grief.

Bramley simply nodded. His expression was emotionless. “Can I sit down?”

“Eeyup.”

Big Macintosh slid further into the booth and allowed his father to take the seat next to him. As he was sitting down, Bramley noticed the watch in his hooves. He smiled. “Liking the old watch?”

“Eeyup.”

Bramley examined his son’s expression. It was despondent and woeful. “Son, you didn’t read that letter, did you?”

He was caught on the spot. He couldn’t tell his father the truth, but he also knew it wouldn’t be right to lie. It was a constant thought during the entire walk, if he should admit it or not. However, whether it was out of guilt or just plain foolishness, Big Macintosh decided to deny his suspicious. “Nnope. Not fer another three weeks. Why, is it important?”

He shook his head and grinned. “Nothin’ that couldn’t wait.”

Then there was another long pause. Big Macintosh was feeling more terrible by the second. First he slandered his father over his visit behind his back, now he’s reverted to lying about reading the letter. Big Macintosh wanted nothing more than to tell him how he felt before he was gone, but the bond between the letter and his promise to not open it was keeping him from doing so. At that moment, it was the hardest moment in his life to bear. Bramley had been relatively quiet, not too talkative at all which Big Mac found unusual considering all the talking he was doing back at the farm, but he figured with tensions at an all-time high, silence was much easier to cope with. But just when he thought he had his father figured out, Bramley broke the silence once again. “Well as long as I’m still here; about your mother’s funeral. I was-“

“Pop, ya’ll can forget about it,” The younger stallion interjected, “it’s alright.”

“No, no, I insist. I want to tell you about it,” Bramley argued.

"Well Pop, what could ya tell me bout’ it?" Big Macintosh countered dismally, "You weren't there, was ya?"

Bramley sighed, knowingly beaten in that regard. Big Mac continued. “Where were you that day, Pop?”

“I was…drunk,” he said, letting his eyes drop on the table.

“Drunk?” His ashamed son repeated, “Mama’s laying there and ya’ll were off gettin’ drunk? How could you do that to her?”

Bramley could sense the shame in his son’s tone. He had always feared his past would come back to haunt him, but he never anticipated the spear piercing through his own foal’s heart when he told him that. While Big Mac was unaware, Bramley swiftly wiped an oncoming tear from his eye. “I guess I just didn’t want to say good-bye.”

Big Macintosh never had a response to his answer. Suddenly the small assortment of coins on the table became more interesting to the stallion, at least until his eyes met the cider that was still foaming off the top of the mug. Big Macintosh laid his grandfather’s heirloom off to the side and took another gulp of the hard cider. When he allowed the beverage to slide down his throat, he let out a heavy sigh. "Eeyup, poor Mama."

Suddenly Bramley laughed while he ran through a memory. "I sure knew how to drive your mother nuts. Even near the end of it, she was always on me for something I did wrong."

"Eeyup. Mama was strong fer jus' a l'il ol' mare." Big Macintosh chuckled with him.

“Do you remember the time your Ma almost lynched me on the way to your Great Uncle Cobbler’s funeral?” He asked.

“Eeyup, how could Ah ferget? She threatened to run ya down with the coach n’ all.” Big Mac replied, a small grin growing from the side of his lips.

“Talk about an overreaction.”

Big Macintosh was taken aback by his father’s swift response. “Pop, you lost his ashes on the way to Dodge Junction.”

Bramley crossed his hooves and gave a blithely snort. “Well how was I supposed to know the tailgate was gonna come loose off the wagon? And I did save the day didn’t I? Did you know how many cigars I had to smoke to make one Uncle Cob?”

There was a short paused before the two of them shared a particularly humorous laugh on their nostalgic past. Then as the conversation fell quiet again, Big Macintosh took another sip of the cider and Bramley continued to go down memory lane over his late wife. He knew of her chronic illness; for years, in fact. However, nothing could be done about it, and neither could his illness. Even though he finally felt he was connecting with his son again, Bram still felt like an empty husk of a stallion he used to be. The doctors told him it was a medical condition, but he knew deep down he was dying of a broken heart. Finally one of the questions he’s been wondering all these years managed to utter out of his breath. "Did she suffer at all?"

Big Macintosh looked up at him. "Hmm?"

"Did she suffer at all?" He uttered again, except not without hesitance.

A grim frown washed over Big Macintosh as he slowly deciphered the question. It was one that he definitely took to heart. But knowing of his father’s doomed fate, he figured he had a right to know. "Nnope, she went peacefully in her sleep...She wanted you though."

Another tear started to trickle down Bramley’s wrinkled left eye. He brushed away with his fetlock and swallowed a heavy lump in his throat. "I know she did, son. But if that storm hadn’t taken me by surprise I could have been there that night, before she went. I would do or give anything just to see her one last time." 

Then Bramley looked over at Big Mac, who was still staring at his pitcher. With a proud smile, he propped his hoof on the farm pony’s shoulder and gave him an encouraging shake. "Even if it were just for ten seconds, I’d tell her that we should be proud of our foals."

Big Macintosh looked at him, a half smile cocked at the side of his lips once again. But then suddenly he looked away again, the smirk washed from his face. He removed Bram’s hoof from his shoulder and placed his hooves back on the mug, staring blankly into its contents. His father looked disturbed by the sudden rejection, but then he was reminded why his son was tormented in the first place. He placed his hoof on the table and cleared his throat. “I think I know what you want to hear. I do owe it to you.”

Big Mac was tempted to cut him off to interject something else; however, he decided to remain quiet and let his father explain himself after all these years. His father took in a deep breath as he tried to collect the words. He tried three times before he could manage to spit them out of his mouth. “When your mother died, it was the first time in my life that I felt…Well…Afraid. I was young and naive so I was scared to face the truth. I fell in love with your mother the first time I laid eyes on her. I never hazard to think a Manehatten belle like herself would end up with a simple country pony like me. But out of some dumb luck I guess, she did, and it was the happiest times of my life. She was the only pony that mattered to me before you and your sisters were born. However, when she died, I never knew what to do anymore. I went down the pipes and lost my train of thought. So life at Sweet Apple Acres lost its color to me…” 

Bramley could feel another cold sensation on his cheeks. He quickly tried to wipe them away but not without a glance from Big Macintosh who noticed all too well. They shared a brief stare before his father laughed it off, sniffling. “Not a day goes by I don't think about her, you know. But it still wasn't fair of me to leave you and your sisters. I missed those nights I got to put AJ to sleep, and I never had enough time to get to know Applebloom. I can tell she has all the potential and enthusiasm in the world to do whatever she wants. And Ma, well out of the eight children she had, I knew for sure I couldn't be her favorite. But I knew I must’ve broke her heart. It definitely stung doing what I did. Your granny is a strong mare, don't get me wrong, but nopony should go through what she did.”

Then he took a moment to reach into one of his inner pockets on his withered blazer and hauled out what looked like his wallet. He unbuttoned the brown leather casing and unfolded it out to reveal an abundance of different diner cards and licences, nearly all of them registered in Manehatten, then there were three photos that Bramley held out in his hoof; one of Applejack when she was a filly, another of Applebloom being held by their late mother, and the last one of a teenage Big Macintosh. ”Then there's you, Big Mac. I've let down you the most. I'm not sure how much you used to look up to me, if you did at all, but I was certainly a proud father, you should know that. You weren't always as strong as you are, but you proved yourself to be quite the farmpony. I was always proud. I still am. In fact, I'm prouder. You've got everything most ponies could only dream of. You got yourself a successful orchard, a steady build of muscle, a caring grandmother, two sisters that love ya, and a girl that sounds like she's a dead ringer for a pony like yourself. But most importantly, you got yourself respect...and I'm jus' sorry that I never shared that joy with you. I should have been there and been an actual father, but instead I was a dolt and ran away on emotion, no thought whatsoever...But jus' so you know, I'll always love you, son."

Knowing his emotions were revealed, Bramley reached into another pocket retrieved a handkerchief, blowing his nose into it. Big Macintosh was choked for words over his father's admiration. It took courage for what he said, and in that regard he respected his father for it, although it still managed to make him feel guilty, more so than he already did. He had nothing to say on top of his father’s apology; instead he simply acknowledged the pocket watch and picked it up again. He fiddled around with it in his hooves and felt the history within it. Big Mac popped the front open and took one more look at the photo. Finally, he too felt tears beginning to set in but made an effort to hold them back. "Eeyup. Glad to have the ol' watch back though."

"Don't go by it though," his father laughed with a shutter in his voice as he stuffed the wallet and handkerchief back into their respective pockets, "it loses a half hour every day."

"That's ok, so do I." Macintosh chuckled.

Bram nodded with a grin, "Yeah. Son, I guess why I came here is to tell you and the girls that I'm sorry about what happened eleven years ago."

Big Mac kept his sights back on the watch, his tone, almost deadpan. "Well I'm sorry...fer callin’ ya an ingrate."

"Yeah…" The two recalled Big Macintosh’s harsh retort in their thoughts, and the both of them felt deep guilt. Bram rolled up his sleeve to check the time on his watch. After that, he patted Big Mac on the shoulder and stood up. "Well, I got a train to catch. I'll see you around, Son."

The middle-aged stallion began making his way to the exit. He was almost reaching for the door when Big Macintosh turned around in his seat and called out to him. "Hey, Pop?"

His father turned around with his hoof against the door. "What is it, Big Macintosh?"

He stared at him with concern and wanted to say something before he left, but three words he had in mind were stuck in the back of his throat, so instead he disregarded it and nodded him on. "Eeyup. I'll see you around."

As he picked up his briefcase and set the charcoal hat upon his head, Bramley threw his son an amused smirk. "Hey, give Fluttershy my love."

"Eeyup." Macintosh said somberly. Suddenly he thought about the letter, bringing up one last thing. "Well, Pop...W-what the hay, could we all get together for dinner three weeks from tomorrow? You know, after Ah read the letter?"

Bramley paused on the question. He knew a request such as that was impossible with his limited time left in this world, but he hoped Big Macintosh and the girls would understand once he read the letter. An inscrutable frown came over Bramley’s face as he nodded. "Yeah, why not?"

Without saying another word, Bramley Apple bit down on the handle of his briefcase and trotted out the door. When the door was shut, he leaned against the wall of the shop and let his head rest, looking up. He closed his eyes and exhaled. What he had come to Ponyville to do was done; he was finally at peace with his family. One last trip was to be made. Bramley reached into another pocket and brought his eyes down to look at the train ticket in front of him. He was departing from Ponyville, and en route to Dodge Junction...It was a one-way ticket.

Meanwhile, Big Macintosh was left with an empty, hopeless feeling in his gut. When he seen the door shut completely, he finally turned back around in his seat. He reached for his cider and lifted it to take another sip. Although he wished for the best, Big Mac knew that it was likely that Bramley wasn’t coming back. Once more, the reminiscence of his anger seeped into the back of his mind. He never properly apologized, but Big Macintosh knew some things are simply better to leave well enough alone. He scanned the table and seats until he found the coin pouch that found itself wedged between the seat cushions. 

Big Macintosh pulled the letter out and read it again, and each paragraph he completed became harder and harder to bear another time. He was about to lose his father and he could do nothing about it. When he finished reading, he finished off the remainder of his cider then put his hoof to his mouth to think on what Applejack said about his bottled up anger. Soon the sorrowful tears of guilt and anger collected in his eyes, and then eventually the stallion slowly collapsed into his hooves and wept convulsively.

-----

Later that night, while the stars sparkled in the sky and the moon casted a blue glow across Sweet Apple Acres, Big Macintosh lied back in his bed, wide awake and staring out his window. It was way past midnight but he couldn’t help but still think about Bramley. He wondered how his sisters and Granny Smith took to his leaving again. He also wondered how his father was doing; it was still hard for him to accept that he was going to die. However, despite the bleak future, Big Macintosh wanted to keep hope alive, he wished for a miracle. Even if they would never see him again, just knowing he was alive would keep the stallion’s mind at ease. 

He let out a heavy sigh before turning on his side to finally sleep, but then he heard the creaking of his bedroom door inch its way open. Big Mac looked up and focused his eyes to adjust to the darkness. As the image became clearer, he watched the form of Applejack cross into his room, saying nothing.

Big Macintosh sat up. He continued to stare at Applejack, noticing her eyes were flushed red. She slowly made her way across the room, eventually taking a seat next to him on the bed. As he waited for her to say something, Big Mac glanced down to watch Applejack put her hoof over his. Then he looked back up and saw her cheeks were wet with tears. As he started to put the pieces together, Big Macintosh gave his sister a reassuring smile and nodded. “We talked…It’s alright…” Applejack still remained silent and instead smiled back through her sad eyes, and then she leaned against him. 

Big Macintosh was quick to accept the embrace, hugging her tightly as he planted a kiss on her forehead. It wasn’t long until he heard the muffled sounds of a crying mare underneath him and felt his chest was beginning to dampen, but Big Macintosh refused to let go, holding onto Applejack with all his might. He leaned his head over her shoulder and closed his eyes, making a solemn promise to her: “Ah will always be here fer you and Applebloom, no matter what. Nothin’ is gonna happen to ya’ll on my watch.”

“Y-Y-Ya p-promise?” Applejack painfully asked, her tone drenched in woe.

Big Macintosh stroked her mane with his hoof and even felt a tear roll down across his face. “Eeyup, Ah promise…Don’t ya’ll worry ‘bout nothin’…”

The End