To say Bright Mac was utterly shocked was an understatement. He went over to his mother.
“Ma, that weren’t acceptable!” he said. “Chewin’ out a guest like that! Honestly, you’d belt me if I behaved like that toward someone else, so that most certainly don’t make it acceptable here.”
Mrs Smith turned to face him, her face burning in anger. One moment Mac was looking directly at her, the next his jaw felt like multiple bombs had exploded upon it and he was on the floor. “Oww,” he groaned.
“Hopefully that’ll teach ya ta consort with non-Apples!” Mrs Smith barked, as he her son pulled himself back up off the floor. “Those Pears cannot be trusted.”
“Yer scared of them because they’re different?” Mac said in disbelief. “Ah’m an adult now, so Ah can make mah own decisions.”
Mrs Smith growled. “Maybe Ah didn’t hit ya hard enough. Stay away from Pear, and never mention her again.”
Bright Mac made for the door. “No. Ah need ta go and apologise ta her.”
But Great Apple stepped in the way of the door and held it shut. “Ya won’t,” he replied.
“Why?” Mac protested. “She’s a human, just like you and me! The Cold War is long over.”
Great Apple shook his head. “Stick to yer own kind, son. Ah’ve taken the liberty of cancellin’ yer work placement at Pearville. As of tomorrow, yer goin’ back ta work on the Cass Scenic Railroad. Now go ta yer room and stay there, unless you want a beatin’ you’ll never forget.”
Mac slunk upstairs, dejected, and looked out of the curtains to see Pear outside, looking distraught at the verbal assault that Mrs Smith had given her.
He couldn’t get it out of his heart. He LOVED her. And the only reason they couldn’t be together? She wasn’t an Apple. This meant he’d probably end up marrying a distant relative.
“Well, yer a total hypocrite Pa,” he said to himself. “Ma wasn’t an Apple, and ya still married her. So why can’t Ah marry a Pear?”
He went over to the facing wall. “Well, Ah know how ya felt Romeo,” he added. “And Ah swear that Ah will make this right...no matter what it takes.”
He began to sing softly, the very song that Pear had sung to him in Canterlot...well, it felt like years ago now, but it was only yesterday. Just the words weren’t tinted with affection this time. They were toned with complete and total heartbreak, and he sang them at a slow and bitter speed.
“We're far apart in every way,
But you're the best part of my day.
And sure, as I breathe the air;
I know we are the perfect pair;”
“On a prickly path that goes on for miles;
But it's worth it just to see you smile!”
“And I cannot be pulled apart,
From the hold you have on my heart;
And even if the world tells us it's wrong!
You're in my head like a catchy song.”
Then the words they had spoken just the day prior flowed through his mind. “Wow. It's just... wow,”
“Do you like it? Be honest now!”
“It's the best gift you could've given me!”
“The seasons change and leaves may fall,
But I'll be with you through them all;
And rain or shine, you'll always be mine.”
The final chorus and verse were especially painful for Mac, as it reminded him greatly of what he had lost.
“On a prickly path that goes on for miles,
You're the only one who makes it all worthwhile!
And you should not blame me, too
If I can't help fallin' in love with you...”
There was a loud bang on his door. “Be quiet!” bellowed Great Apple.
Mac didn’t even bother to reply. He waited for his father to go, and then simply resorted to humming the tune as an act of defiance.
“Ah’ll never forget ya Pear,” he said, as he sat back down on his bed. “Ah swear, if Ah can’t marry ya, Ah’d rather not marry at all.”
For the next few weeks, Mac’s lovesickness manifested itself in a number of different ways. When walking to the depot to start his shift one day, he walked round the bend...and there she was!
“Pear!” he cried, as he ran over to her. “How long have ya been there?”
“Ah’ll always be here for ya Mac,” she said happily. “They can’t keep us apart, at least not in spirit.”
Mac reached forward to take her hand.
His own went straight through her, and she vanished.
Stunned for a moment, Mac, stepped back. “Ah’m hallucinatin’ now?” he asked, and turned to continue his trudge to the depot.
He set to work on repairing one of the engines as a way of trying to distract his mind from the problem, but that didn’t work either. The cylinders on the Shay he was fixing reminded him of that shaker that he and Pear fixed.
That moment when they fell in love.
He angrily threw his spanner down, and went outside. He couldn’t hold it in any longer, and bellowed angrily at the heavens.
“WHY?” he asked. “WHY DO YA TORMENT ME THIS WAY?!”
Later on, he had a passenger turn to take, and Mac was a changed man. He seemed to have a distinct lack of interest in life, and was somewhat distracted as he forgot to sound the whistle on two occasions.
But the clearest manifestation of the problem came when the train reached Whittaker. Mac failed to apply the brakes, and the train sailed through the platform and stopped beyond the station.
Mac looked back, and upon realising his mistake, he reset the cylinders and brought the engine back. Hopping off the footplate, he went to find the conductor. “Hey,” he asked, “can ya take the train back fer me? Ah don’t feel up ta it.”
The conductor nodded. “Sure thing Mac. If you ain’t feelin’ great, ya should take a rest.”
Upon arriving at his home, the mailman was standing there. “Bright Mac?” he asked. “Ah have a letter fer ya.”
“Why didn’t ya put it in the letterbox?” Mac asked.
“Ah was under instruction ta hand it ta ya personally,” the mailman said, and gave his a letter. He then headed away.
Mac opened the letter, and began to read. “Dear Bright Mac...”