This Town Will Never Let You Go

by RB_


Goodbye,

“Hey, Applejack,” Apple Bloom said, stepping into the kitchen of the Apple family farmhouse. “Have you seen my photo album anywhere?”

Applejack, up on her hind legs and working at one of the counters, glanced over her shoulder, first at the clock, then at Apple Bloom.

“Why?” she asked. “Ain’t it in your room?”

“Nope. Can’t find it.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Applejack said, turning back to what she was doing. She took an apple up from the pile beside her and began slicing it with a bladed contraption strapped to her hoof. “No, I don’t think I’ve seen it anywhere. Why are you lookin’ for it?”

“Well, I was going to take it with me,” Apple Bloom said. Applejack’s knife hoof stopped.

“You’re packin’ already?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said. “Figured I’d get it done today so I don’t have to rush it tomorrow mornin’. Got my suitcase ready and everything.”

The cutting resumed. “Good thinkin’. Less likely to forget anything that way.”

“Yep,” Apple Bloom said. “’Cept I can’t find my album anywhere.”

“You sure it ain’t in your room someplace?” Applejack said. “Maybe you had it out and forgot to put it back.”

Apple Bloom frowned. “No, I’m pretty sure I left it on my bookshelf, like I always do. And I turned the whole room upside-down.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find it eventually.”

Applejack picked up the cutting board and scraped the apple slices into a bowl to her left, then repeated the procedure on the next fruit.

“Hey, I know this ain’t the right time for this,” she said, “but are you sure you still don’t want me to go with you tomorrow? Cities can be mighty confusin’ places if you ain’t used to ‘em…”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Sis, I ain’t a lil’ filly no more. I’ll be fine.”

It was true. Time had done well by little Apple Bloom, granting her sturdy legs, a fine coat, and a southern drawl that could seduce a stone. She’d even grown her hair out.

She still wore the same bow in her hair as she always had, though. She’d never outgrow that.

“Sure you are,” Applejack said. “But that don’t mean I have to stop being your big sister, either.”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes again. “‘Sides, Babs said she’d meet me at the station, so it’s not like I’m gonna get lost or anything. And our house isn’t that far from there, either.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Applejack said. “Still…”

“I know, I know. I’ll be careful.”

While Applejack continued working, Apple Bloom crossed the kitchen and sat down at the table in the center. She rested her chin on her hoof.

“Maybe Big Mac knows where it is,” she mused. “He back from the market yet?”

“Nope. Sorry.”

“Fiddlesticks.”

Applejack began cutting into a new apple. “I’m sure it’ll turn up,” she said. “I’ll help you look once I’m done with this.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Apple Bloom said. “What are you makin’, anyways?”

“Apple pie.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Well, my lil’ sis is moving to Fillydelphia tomorrow, an’ I want to give her one last taste of home before she goes.”

Apple Bloom winced.

“Also, we’ve got a bunch of apples that’ll be goin’ bad soon, so I wanna use them up before we have to feed them to the pigs,” Applejack continued. She sent another set of apple slices tumbling into the bowl. “And since when do I need a special occasion to make an apple pie?”

Apple Bloom didn’t have a response for that, and for a little while the only sounds in the kitchen were those of fruit dissection.

“Hey, uh…”

“Yeah?” Applejack asked.

Apple Bloom swallowed.

“You and Big Mac’ll be fine without me, right?” she asked. “I know the two of you can handle the farm on your own, but…”

Applejack chuckled.

“We ain’t that old,” she said. “’Least, not yet. We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but what about cider season?” Apple Bloom asked. “We barely managed to keep up last year.”

Applejack hummed. “Well, we might have to hire some farmhands, but we’ll manage. I don’t think either of us would mind if you came back to help, though. Of course, if you’re thinking about changin’ your mind…”

Apple Bloom let out a sigh. “No, just making sure you’re okay with it.”

“’Course we are,” Applejack said. “We’re happy for you.”

Applejack laid the knife down on her cutting board and turned around. She was smiling.

“We’re gonna miss you,” she said. “No doubt about that. But if moving to Fillydelphia is going to make you happy, then I’m behind you, no matter what. And I know Big Mac feels the same way. You could be movin’ to Tartarus and it wouldn’t make no difference to us.”

Apple Bloom smiled back.

“Thanks, Applejack.”

“Ain’t no thing.”

She glanced at the clock again.

“Actually, now that I think about it,” she said, “I think I might have seen that album of yours after all.”

Apple Bloom’s ears perked up. “Oh yeah? Where?”

“Out in the barn,” Applejack said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why would it be in the barn?” Apple Bloom asked, frowning.

Applejack shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I didn’t put it there.”

Apple Bloom’s look remained skeptical. “You sure?”

“Yep. In the back, sittin’ on one of the hay bales. You probably just took it out there and forgot about it, like I said before.”

“Well, uh, alright then. Thanks.”

Apple Bloom hopped off her chair. She headed out of the kitchen and took a right down the front hall.

Opening the front door was like opening an oven. It was a hot day, even for summer; the kind of dry heat that warms you right down to the bone. It had been that way for the past couple of weeks, and there were no signs that it was going to change any time soon.

Apple Bloom didn’t mind, though. She’d always liked Ponyville’s summers, even if days like this one turned routine farmwork into torture. She shielded her eyes from the sun, halfway through its western descent, and headed across the courtyard in the direction of the barn.

The barn’s door was shut tight. Apple Bloom frowned. That was odd; they usually left it open during the day.

She pushed it open.

“SURPRISE!”

A burst of confetti flew into her face.

The barn had been done up in ribbons and streamers. Balloons floated lazily overhead. A blue banner had been strung across the rafters, the words “Farewell, Apple Bloom!” written across it in gold letters, and standing under it was what looked like half the town.

Apple Bloom blinked. “You shouldn’t have,” she said. And she meant it, because it was true, but they’d gone ahead and done it anyway.

Such was the Ponyville way.


“So then,” Berry Pinch said, “Apple Bloom comes around the corner, right? And she says—she says—”

“What’d she say?” came the chorus.

“She says, ‘Pinchy, I ain’t one to judge, but if this is your idea of a fun Saturday night, then I’m goin’ home!’”

Laughter all around.

Apple Bloom stood up. “I’m gonna go get us some more cider.”

“Hey, it’s your party!” someone said. “Let someone else go!”

“Nah, I need a breather anyways. Y’all keep goin’.”

“Well, if you say so!” Pinchy said. “Anyways, there was this one time…”

The night air greeted her as she stepped out of the barn. The light and music grew muffled as the doors fell shut behind her.

Then they grew unmuffled for a moment.

“Couldn’t take any more of Pinchy’s stories?” a voice said. Apple Bloom didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to.

“Nope. Just ate too much pie,” she said. “I’m guessin’ this whole thing was your idea, Sweetie Belle?”

“Guilty as charged!”

Now, if time had done well by Apple Bloom, then it had been downright bounteous towards Sweetie Belle, blessing her with the body of a dancer and the voice of an angel. Her curls bounced as she laughed. It was almost unfair.

“Well, you shouldn’t have,” Apple Bloom said. “But I appreciate it anyway.”

Sweetie walked up beside her.

“So, you uh… gonna come to the train station tomorrow?” Apple Bloom asked. “See me off?”

“Of course,” Sweetie Belle replied. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

Apple Bloom smiled. “Thanks.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Train’s leaving at noon.”

“That early?” Sweetie Belle said. “Maybe holding the party at night wasn’t such a good idea, after all.”

Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. “Since when is noon early?”

“Not all of us get up at the crack of dawn,” Sweetie Belle said. “Some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“You’re soundin’ more like your sister every day.”

Sweetie Belle’s cheeks turned red. “I am not!”

“Sure you ain’t,” Apple Bloom said, chuckling. “Prissy pony.”

Sweetie Belle pouted. Still chuckling, Apple Bloom turned her attention to the little trapdoor set into the ground beside the barn. Kneeling down, she grasped the iron handle in her teeth and pulled it open, revealing a rickety staircase leading down into the darkness.

“Hey,” she said. “Pass me that lantern, will you?”

She was referring to the oil lantern that hung next to the barn’s door, casting a flickering light over the scene. Sweetie Belle’s horn lit, and the thing floated off its hook and over to Apple Bloom. Taking it into her mouth, she descended the rickety staircase.

“You know,” Sweetie Belle called down after her, “I think the thing I’m going to miss the most after you’re gone is having a direct line to the cider supply.”

“Oh yeah?” Apple Bloom called back. “That’s all I’m good for, huh?”

“Yep! That and free pie.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I’m goin’,” Apple Bloom said. “Wouldn’t want you losing that perfect figure of yours.”

The cellar was filled with all kinds of jars and tins, but what she wanted was in the unmarked glass bottles on the back shelf. Placing the lantern down on a shelf to her right, she grabbed a bottle and tucked it under one leg, thought for a moment, then grabbed a second. Hobbling on three legs, she made her way back to the steps.

“Lil’ help?”

A green aura surrounded the bottles, lifting them up through the trapdoor. Apple Bloom turned around and snatched up the lantern again, then climbed out of the cellar.

Sweetie Belle was standing at the top of the steps, a bottle of cider levitating on either side of her. Gone was the mirth she’d held in her eyes just a moment ago.

Apple Bloom placed the lantern back on its hook. Its flickering light cast shadows on the side of the barn.

“You alright?” she asked.

“I still don’t want you to go,” Sweetie said, her voice quiet.

A lump formed in Apple Bloom’s throat.

“It won’t be so bad,” she said. “Fillydelphia’s only an hour away by train. You can come visit any time you like.”

“That’s not the same and you know it.”

“…Yeah.” She sighed. “I know.”

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke; the silence was filled only by the chirping of insects.

“Just don’t forget about me, okay?” Sweetie finally said.

“Forget about you?” Apple Bloom grinned. “Couldn’t if I tried.”

Sweetie giggled. Apple Bloom stepped closer and drew her into a hug.

Over Sweetie’s shoulder, something caught her eye. She glanced up at the farmhouse. One of the windows was lit up, on the second floor. Third from the left… wasn’t that Granny Smith’s room? That couldn’t be right; there was no way she was up at this hour.

Then, as if it had noticed her looking, the light extinguished itself.

After a few more moments, Sweetie drew out of the hug.

“Alright,” she said, putting on a smile. “Enough being sappy. This is supposed to be a party!”

“Darn tootin’,” Apple Bloom said. “Now let’s get back inside before Pinchy wrecks the place.”

Sweetie smirked. “Now who’s starting to sound like their sister?”

“Shuddup.”


Apple Bloom sat on the edge of her bed, flipping through the pages of her photo album. The party had ended, the guests gone home, and the barn returned to normal.

She chuckled at a picture of her younger self attempting (failing) to juggle, then turned the page. They actually had hidden the book in the barn, if only so Applejack wouldn’t have to lie about seeing it there. She was just glad no one had gotten food on it.

She’d started keeping the thing back when she was thirteen. It had started as a Crusader effort to get a cutie mark in something—amateur photography, or something along those lines—but even after they’d all given up on the idea, Apple Bloom had never stopped adding to it.

She turned the page again.

There was only one picture on this page, stuck right in the center. It had been taken on the day that the three of them had gotten their cutie marks. She was in the middle of the photo, grinning ear to ear, turned sideways so the mark on her flank would be visible. To her right was Sweetie Belle, doing much the same.

And to her left…

Her smile dimmed slightly.

She shook her head and closed the book. Hopping off the bed, she brought the thing over to her suitcase, lying open against the far wall. She laid the album into it, nestling it between two towels so it wouldn’t go anywhere, and pulled the lid of the suitcase shut. It locked in place with a click.

Yawning, Apple Bloom crossed the room to snuff out the candle on her nightstand, then climbed into bed. She didn’t bother with the sheets; the night was warm enough as it was. She let her head rest against the pillow and cast her gaze towards the ceiling. The same ceiling she’d stared at every night for the last twenty years.

If all went well, she wouldn’t be seeing it again for a long time.

Maybe ever.

If all went well.

She smiled and closed her eyes, and soon enough she’d drifted off to sleep.