//------------------------------//
// Chapter Six: In Which a Few Loose Ends Are Tied Up 
// Story: A Blank Canvas 
// by Bardsworth Brony 
//------------------------------//

	That evening, after a hard day's training on the sand bag, Sketch helped Granny Smith clean up the supper dishes even though he was ready to pass out on his bed.  The older pony was quite a character; something always reminded her of a story, and she had some funny quirks, like insisting the dishes be dried with the rag going in a clockwise direction, never counterclockwise.  He learned that one the hard way after receiving a ten minute lecture that he only understand half of, if that much.
As Sketch was about to finally retire for the night, Applejack called him into the dining room.  She was sitting at the table, a stack of bits in front her.  "This here's yer first and second week's pay," she said, sliding the stack into a pouch.  "You missed yer first payday bein' laid up at Fluttershy's."
"Thanks," Sketch said, staring at the money and then looking at Applejack.  "But I don't know if I can accept it."
"Why in tarnation not?" Applejack asked, giving the pony an incredulous look.  "It's what yer here for.  You've earned it."
"Because you're letting me live here, you feed me three times a day, and you've given me part of your barn as studio space.  I took the job to save money so I could find a place to live and to feed myself, and now you've taken care of that."
"Fer goodness sake, do ya have to argue every time somethin' good comes yer way?"  The incredulous look became a scowl.
Sketch felt himself blush and he looked away.  "I'm grateful for it, really I am, it’s just-"
"Then take it."  The order was given in a voice that left Sketch unwilling to disobey, so he grabbed the pouch, mumbled a thank you, and tried to hurry out of the room.  "Sketch," Applejack called, and he stopped and turned, looking at her through the doorway.  Her tone softened a bit, but still had an edge to it.  "Ah wouldn't have done it all if ah didn't think you were worth it."
He stood there staring at the orange pony for a long moment before nodding.  Then he continued on up the stairs to his room.  After closing the door, he dropped his earnings into the drawer on the nightstand and fell onto his bed.  Before he fell asleep, he mulled over Applejack's words.
Hours later, feeling awake once again, Sketch made his way through the quiet farmhouse and out to his studio.  As he had done the night before, he laid into the canvas, trying to be mindful of the time so he wouldn't be at it too late.  When the first rays of the sun peeked through the shutters, though, he realized with a yawn that he would be in for a rough day ahead.


***


It was another long day of working the sandbag before Applejack let Sketch tackle an actual tree.  Since the apples weren't quite ready just yet, she located a tree that hadn't done so well on apple producing.  "They're still edible," she said, "Just not up to the Sweet Apple Acres standards of sellin', so we'll just eat 'em ourselves.  Now," she said, moving Sketch into position, "This here's gonna be a whole lot different than buckin' the sand bag.  This here's solid wood, so brace yerself for a hard impact.  You ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Sketch said, not entirely sure that he was.
"Get buckin'!"
Sketch steeled himself, focusing on his flank muscles, then lifted his rear legs and gave the tree a kick.  There was a solid thunk and then vibrations traveled up his hooves, up his legs, through his body, and into his skull.  He collapsed onto the ground, feeling as if he had been run over by a pony-drawn wagon.
"That first time's always a bit rough," Applejack said with a chuckle.  Sketch gave her a pained look, and she cleared her throat and tried to hide her smile.
"Did I at least knock any apples loose?"
"Nope, sorry, they're all still there."  At that moment several apples did fall, and one landed right on Sketch's head.  Applejack snorted and tried not to laugh, but ended up falling to the ground in laughter.


***


Sketch worked hard for the remaining days of his training, harder than he had ever worked at anything, including painting.  By the time he was two days away from the start of applebucking season, he was able to buck nearly half of the apples from a given tree.  His flank muscles had finally gotten used to the exercise, and whatever pain was left over Sketch learned to ignore.
Applejack gave him a day off the day before applebucking started.  "Enjoy the time, 'cause the next few weeks are gonna be even worse than yer trainin'."  With that little tidbit of joy, Sketch decided to take care of something that he hadn't gotten around to yet.  He packed up his art supplies and headed into Ponyville.
As usual, Spike answered the door of the library.  "Hey, Sketch!"
"Hey, Spike.  Is Twilight around?"
"Yup.  I'll give you three guesses as to what she's doing."
When Sketch entered Twilight looked up from the book she was reading and her face lit up.  "Hi, Sketch!  I haven't seen you since your party."
"Applejack's had me training hard.  She gave me the day off before the real work starts tomorrow, so I thought I'd come over and do your portrait.  If you have time, that is."
"Sure!"
"Hey, can I be in it, too?" Spike asked with pleading eyes.
"I don't see why not," Sketch smiled.
"Awesome!  Every painting should have a dragon in it."
They discussed the background of the portrait, and eventually decided on having Twilight sit near an open window for lighting, with a stack of books piled next to her.  The latter wasn't difficult, as there were stacks of books nearly everywhere.  On a spur of the moment burst of inspiration, Sketch told Spike to sit on top of the stack, and it completed the look perfectly.
As Sketch began, Twilight asked, "Have you done much painting in your studio?"
"I have, actually," Sketch said through the side of his mouth without losing his grip on the brush.  "I've got several finished pieces and a couple in progress.  I need to order some more canvases while I'm in town today."
"That's great to hear!  I'd love to see them."
"I'd love to show them to you.  You may have to wait until Applejack gives me another day off, though, and that might be a while."
Twilight chuckled.  "That's understandable.  None of us ever see Applejack during this season because she's so busy.  But with your help, it should go by quicker."
"I hope so."
The two chit-chatted away as Sketch worked.  Poor Spike started to look bored, so Sketch asked him questions about dragons.  The little library assistant was all too willing to share his knowledge, and was in the middle of explaining exactly how dragons were able to digest jewels when the door to the library burst open.
"Twiliiiiiiiiiight! Oh, there you are.  And Sketch!  Yay, now I don't have to go all the down to Sweet Apple Acres 'cause you can deliver the invitation for me!"
"Hi Pinkie Pie," Twilight said, trying not to move too much.  "What's up?"
"I wanted to invite you to – oh my gosh, Sketch, that's so good!  Will you paint me someday?"  Sketch didn't have time to answer, as Pinkie Pie just continued on.  "I wanted to invite you to the Harvest Moon Celebration I'm throwing tonight!  There's gonna be cake and cookies and punch and music and dancing and streamers and-"
"Yes, Pinkie Pie, we know what to expect at one of your parties," Twilight said with a patient smile.  "And yes, I'll be there."
"Me too!" Spike said.  "You know I never miss a Pinkie Pie party."
"Woo-hoo!  Sketch, you're coming too, right?"
Sketch paused in mid-stroke.  He would love to go to another party, but Applejack had told him to get a good night's sleep that night so he could be ready for applebucking the following day.  Maybe he could just go for a little while and leave early.  When he looked at Pinkie Pie, though, who stood in front of him twitching with boundless energy, he realized that she would never let him leave a party early.  Then he thought of the look on Applejack's face if he should have to tell her he had been out all night partying instead of resting up.  That was the clincher.
He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, Pinkie Pie.  Applebucking season starts tomorrow and I need to be in tip-top shape."
"Awww," the pink pony's head drooped.  Then, just as Sketch was about to apologize again, she perked up and said, "We'll save you some cake."
"I'd like that," Sketch said with a smile.
"See you tonight, Twilight and Spike!" Pinkie Pie sang as she bounced her way out the door.
There was silence as Sketch went back to work, until he noticed Twilight studying him.  "What?"
"You really want to go to the party, don't you?" she asked.
"Yeah.  You have to understand, the word 'party' means something completely different in Whinnypeg.  Now that I know what a real party is, I want to be able to go to every one that I can."
Twilight chuckled.  "If you did that around here, you'd die of exhaustion.  But you did make the right choice.  Applejack would be proud."
That made Sketch smile as he began adding shading to Twilight's face.


***


"It's beautiful!" Twilight said when she stepped behind the canvas to take a look.  Sketch wanted to agree, but something about the portrait just wasn't right to him.  He couldn't place a hoof on what it was that was bothering him, though, just that it was.  However, one of the most important lessons he had been taught was to never downplay a piece to someone who liked it.
"I'm glad," he said simply and sincerely.
"Hey, I look pretty handsome!" Spike said, studying the painting.
"Yeah, I took some creative liberties with you," Sketch said straight-faced, then grinned when Spike glared at him.  "Just kidding.  My brush captures things as they are."  Spike returned the grin and went back to admiring himself.
Twilight thanked him and gave him a hug, and Sketch was on his way.  Even though he wasn't completely satisfied with the portrait, at least Twilight liked it.  Maybe he'd do better with Fluttershy's when he got around it.  He wasn't used to doing portraits, so maybe he just needed to get one out of the way as practice.
The thought of Fluttershy and his being sick reminded Sketch of something he had wanted to do once he had earned some money.  He made a quick stop at Sugarcube Corner and found Mr. Cake at the counter.  "Well hi there, Sketch!  How're things at Sweet Apple Acres?"
"Busy, Mr. Cake.  And it's only going to get worse.  Which is why I wanted to do this now before I forget.  Would you happen to know what Nurse Redheart usually buys from here?"
"Gosh, you got me on that one, but if anyone would know, it would be my wife.  Sweety," he called into the kitchen, "Can you come here for a moment?"
The blue-haired co-owner of the bakery walked in from the kitchen and spotted Sketch.  "Hi, Sketch!" she said brightly.
"Hi Mrs. Cake.  I have a question for you – what does Nurse Redheart usually buy from here?"
"Oh, she loves the red velvet cupcakes.  She buys them at least once a month."
"Excellent!  Could you have a box of them delivered to her with a note attached?"
"We sure can!  Let me go fetch you some paper to write on and Carrot will ring you up."
After money exchanged hooves, Mrs. Cake returned with the paper and pencil.  Sketch scrawled onto the paper, "Thank you for your house call while I was sick.  Enjoy the cupcakes.  Sincerely, Sketch."  He folded the note and passed it to Mrs. Cake, thanking her.  As he exited the bakery, Sketch could hear his father's exasperated voice in the back of his head saying, "That pony was just doing her job!  Why are you wasting money on her for doing her job?"  Instead of letting the voice get to him as usually happened, Sketch managed to ignore it.  With a light step in his hooves, he trotted his way to the general store, whistling the whole way.