Macintosh
By TotalOverflow, '11
Chapter 8
I saw some up there. In the sky. They flew.
I walked.
I looked away.
The cart was heavy. It was full of apples. Apples I bucked.
"Macintosh!"
Applejack ran up to me.
"Macintosh! Ma an' Pa want ta talk ta us!"
I left my cart and went in the house with her. Mother sat with Father.
"Kids, yer ma's got somthin' ta tell y'all."
They held each other. They smiled.
Mother's pink bow was shiny in the sunlight. Her orange eyes were big.
"Macintosh? Jackie?"
"Yes Ma?"
"Yer goin' ta have a li'l brother or sister."
***
The walk from the school to Ponyville was short, and uneventful for Big Macintosh. The large stallion cheerfully strolled through the busy streets, the beginnings of hunger nipping at his belly. The town and its inhabitants were becoming familiar to him: just down the road was the library, and past that was the café he ate at yesterday. Over there was Rose, Daisy and Lily, who had moved the flower stand from its earlier position. I should go say hi, Macintosh thought, but once he noticed a certain fluffy-maned pink pony bouncing toward them he swiftly made an about face and started the other way, grumbling all the while. Dang Pinkie Pie, of course she'd be there so she could make a foal out of me in front of my friends!
"Is that all ya care about? Yer pride?"
He shook his head, steeled his eyes and stomped down the road. I'm not going to let her embarrass me again! She'll just make a joke out of me! Nopony laughs at me! His determined march became a swift canter as he tried to clear his head. He did his best to focus on anything - buildings, the road, nearby bushes, anything to get his mind off the hyperactive pink filly. I deserve to be angry at her! I am not going to become like-
"OH CRAP!"
WHUMP
The noise derailed Macintosh's train of thought. A nearby white, blue maned unicorn filly stood by a large grey box on its side. Groaning, she shuffled her sunglasses and leaned to pick it up, but struggled to do any more than upright it.
"Y'all need a hoof?" asked Mac as he cantered over. Once closer he saw the grey box had two spots for records, surrounded by dozens of knobs, buttons and dials.
"Aw, dude, that would be wicked!" she grinned, her sunglasses flashing in the sunlight. He bent over and hoisted the box onto his back and, with a little help from the filly, had it perfectly balanced. He'd carried a lot of boxes full of apples around the farm and had mastered the art of never tipping his load.
"So where y'all headed with this?” he asked as they made their way down the road.
"Back to my pad," she said, her blue, spiky mane bouncing noisily with each step, "I propped it at my rig last night but never got the chance to pick it up. Glad nopony swiped it!"
Macintosh nodded, mentally deconstructing her explanation into terms he could understand. After a couple minutes, the two arrived at her home, the strange, flat roofed house he saw yesterday. Finally, the pieces were put together.
"Hey, hold on," Big Mac began, raising a hoof, "Yer...Yer that pony from the party last night! Vinyl Scratch, right?"
"Sure am, dude," she chuckled, "you wan' an autograph, or somethin'?"
"Uh, actually, no," he stammered. She just laughed.
"Really? Bro, you're the first to turn one down! I like you!"
"Um, thanks?" he shook his head as he slid the turntable off his back and onto her porch.
"Thanks man, I owe ya one!" she grinned, opening her door and shoving the station inside, "you want one of my albums, or something?"
"Uh, no, that's okay..."
"Really?" she asked, frowning a little, "well, I owe you a favor or something for helping me out."
"A favor?" scratching his chin he glanced back the way he came. "Actually, there is one thing ya could do fer me..."
As Big Macintosh trotted the dusty road back to Sweet Apple Acres he smiled, wishing he could have seen the look on Blues' face when he met the DJ; but he was already past due to help out his sister on the farm, so he made a mental note to catch up with Blues later and see how the meeting went.
Nearing the farm Big Macintosh spotted Applejack out working the fields, a line of full apple carts trailing behind her. He smiled, let himself into the house and, grabbing a quick snack, cantered up the stairs to his room. There on the bed-post rested his harness, and with a shimmy he fastened it on, its sudden weight coming as a slight shock to the earth pony. Throughout all this his mind was empty, going about his preparation for work in a sort of daze.
Before long he found himself in the field, staring down the rows of apple trees, their fruit ready and begging to be harvested. His carts securely fastened to his harness, he made his way to the edge of the field where he could work his way in. By this time in his life he'd gotten bucking trees down to a science, and rarely had to even use both his legs to knock down the round fruits.
After a few minutes of silent work a shadow passed over his snout. Looking up he saw the source: a group of pegasus ponies having a little race over the fields. He smiled, watching them for a bit. I'll never get over it, he thought, I'm always amazed. Shoot, I really wish I could fly and not be stuck on the ground like...
Like Scootaloo.
His stomach churned as he was reminded of the little filly's situation. The various promises and vows of secrecy he'd made in the past couple days flooded back to him, pounding in his head like an angry drum. If only I could tell them! Then maybe Scootaloo could learn to fly! But I made promises, and an Apple never breaks his promise. But if only...
He groaned, kicked a nearby tree, and turned possible solutions over in his mind. I suppose I could sort of nudge them in the right direction. You know, casually mention Fluttershy's skill with animals...hope Scootaloo or Rainbow catch on....I'm sure Scootaloo would appreciate it...She wants to fly, right?
Breaking him out of his thoughts was the sight of Ol' Bessy, the biggest tree on the farm. At least twice as big around as any other tree, it always yielded the tastiest apples out of all the acres. Getting them down was the hard part, though: its massive size always required more than one pony's efforts to buck it hard enough. Naming notable trees was a strange tradition of his family, and his sister was prone to getting uncharacteristically attached to them, trimming their branches and doting on them like babies. He’d even caught her singing a lullaby to BloomBerg the night before it was shipped out to AppleLoosa. Grinning, Macintosh unlatched his cart and trotted over to Ol’ Bessy, eager for the chance to try to harvest its crop by himself. He kicked one leg after the other, but only caused the apples to wiggle a bit. Rearing up, he prepared to kick with both legs.
"Macintosh!"
Big Mac nearly slipped and collapsed in a pile.
Applejack, laughing, cantered up to him. "Tryin' ta get Ol' Bessy's apples, eh? Here, lemme help ya."
"No thanks, AJ," he replied, "Ah want ta try it mahself."
She laughed. "Now, c'mon Big Brother, nopony's ever been able ta buck Ol' Bessy by 'emself, not even Pa could do it."
"Ah'll get'r done, AJ. It's a challenge."
"It's impossible, is what it is."
"Run along now, li'l sis. Ya'll see, t'night yer gun' be havin' Bessy's apples fer supper."
She tipped her hat to him, sauntering off. "All righty then, good luck! Ya'll need it!"
Rolling his eyes, he surveyed the tree, looking for the best spot to strike. Ol' Bessy had become a bit of an inside joke among his family, and a sort of rite of passage for the colts. Whenever his extended family would come over, they'd all take turns bucking, but of course, nopony ever knocked more than a couple dead leaves off. The great, stupid tree stood tall, probably one of, if not the first, tree planted on the farm. Finding a good spot, he reared and kicked. The tree shook slightly and a few leaves rustled, but otherwise, nothing. He only tried this once every few years, frequently reminded any time he did how impossible the solo task is. I'll do it, he mumbled to himself, no matter what they say! And I'll do it myself, I'll beat the odds, and I'll do it without anypony's help!
He froze in mid-kick.
Without anypony's help. A challenge. Was this...Could this be how Scootaloo felt? She's probably been told all her life that she might never be able to fly. Could it be...a challenge for her? He felt a sudden pang of guilt for just assuming all this time that she would even want help. Success is all the sweeter when it's accomplished solo, after all. Stupid tree, he grinned, who would have thought I could learn something from a tree?
With a swift, strong buck he struck the side of the tree. Two large apples plummeted to the grass. His eyes widening in delight, he reached down and scooped one up; its sweet scent made his mouth water, and, savoring every second of his victory, bit down into the fruit. Scootaloo will someday taste sweet triumph as well. And she'll do it alone.
Those two apples were the only ones Macintosh could persuade the tree to part with, so, after finding his sister and tossing her the other fruit with a wink (her jaw dislodging from her head in awe), Macintosh spent the next few hours in silent work. Mind wandering, he finished the harvest a bit later than he would have preferred, just in time for supper. His harvest locked in the barn, he let himself into the house, from which the tasty smell of roast potatoes and cabbage wafted.
"Macintosh?" Granny Smith called from the kitchen, "Come an' give yer gran'mother a hoof."
Trotting into the dining room he helped her lay out the table; he noticed two extra sets of plates and raised an eyebrow. "Guests t'night, Gramma?"
"Li'l Apple Bloom's friends are spendin' the night," she said casually, placing down a hot pot of cabbage. She moaned in slight pain as she clutched her bad hip. "But dun' worry. Ah reckon they're gun' be spendin' most o' their time out in yer old treehouse, so ya'll have quiet ta study an' whatnot."
"Oh, okay," he sighed. His grandfather had built them that treehouse so long ago, and when Applejack mentioned off-hoof that she gave it to Apple Bloom and her friends, he felt a little betrayed. That was their secret hidey spot, after all; his little refuge from the rest of the world. He and his sister spent many summer nights out there, playing make-believe and talking, but he hadn't set hoof in it for years and got over the initial sting of the bad news fairly quickly. Better for it to be used by somepony who appreciates it than to just slowly decay and fall apart.
"Smells good, Gramma!" Applejack bellowed, swinging into the dining room.
"Yer in a good mood," Macintosh chuckled as his sister, laughing, took her seat.
"Does my heart good ta see the barn full up, Big Brother!" she grinned, "b'sides, that apple ya got was really somethin' else!"
"Apple?" Granny Smith asked, slowly sitting down.
"Macintosh knocked me off an apple from Ol' Bessy, all by himself!"
"Two, actually. But Ah ate one mahself; sorry Gramma."
"Well, Ah declare, Macintosh!" the old green mare wheezed, punching his arm, "that ain't no small feat! Jes' wait 'til the rest o' the family hears!"
Macintosh, blushing a little, was about to say something when the door burst open and three little fillies flew into their seats.
"Hi Gramma! Hi Macintosh! Hi Applejack!" Apple Bloom shouted, a grin from ear to ear plastered on her face.
"Hi Mrs. Smith! Hi Dude! Hi AJ!" Scootaloo yelled, the same expression on her little head.
"Uh, hi!" the small white unicorn said meekly, attempting to smile but failing miserably.
"Girls, what's goin' on?" Applejack said slowly. The young fillies exchanged awkward glances.
"Um, nothing," Apple Bloom swallowed, "let's just say we aren't cut out ta be Cutie Mark Crusader Fashion Designers." The unicorn's face turned bright red and she hung her head.
Dinner, surprisingly, passed without incident or spillage, and they each merrily discussed their days, the tale of the three fillies' encounter with Snips and Snails proving particularly interesting, beginning with a dare from Scootaloo, leading to the discovery of slugs in their school bags and ending in an unfortunate climax in the bakery where a few unlucky customers found something...extra in their cupcakes. Macintosh told a little about his day (leaving out most of the more personal details), and mentioned the field trip to the library, at which point Apple Bloom took charge of the conversation, excitedly recounting how she, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle (the unicorn) and more than half the school showed up at Twilight's library to hear more of 'Fortress of Fire.'
"How far'd ya get?" Macintosh asked.
"Um, not much," grinned Apple Bloom, "we wanted ta start all over so my friends could hear it too."
"It's awesome!" Scootaloo pounded her hoof on the table, her small wings fluttering, "tomorrow, we're all going to go back and listen all day!"
"Oh right," Applejack said, "Y'all have t'morrow off from school."
"Yeah, a teacher's convention or something," Sweetie Belle chimed, "I just hope they manage to find Frost before the Basilisk returns..."
"Well, Ah guess ya'll hafta wait'n see," chuckled Macintosh, chewing on a potato.
"Save who from the what now?" AJ raised an eyebrow in confusion, "sounds like an interestin' teacher's convention."
"In the story, sis," whispered the stallion.
"Any plans fer t'night?" Granny Smith asked, smiling and rocking gently in her seat.
"We're gunna finally get our cutie marks!" the young fillies cheered loudly.
"Jes' a bit of organizin' an' such," Applejack replied, "I'll probably go into town fer a bit too. Apparently, Pinkie Pie has a new cupcake she wants me ta try. Somethin' 'bout confetti."
"Jes' dun' stay up too late," chided Granny, "An' y'all, Macintosh?"
"Hmm," he murmured, "Ah guess Ah've got mah work done fer t'day. Ah'll probably go back into town. B'sides, Ah need ta meet up with Blues anyhow."
"Blues?" Applejack squinted.
"Oh, right! Ah guess Ah haven't told y'all 'bout the friends Ah've made..."
He told his family a little about his new friends, and they seemed genuinely happy for him, although the three fillies got bored and left half-way through. As they finished cleaning up from supper, Macintosh couldn't help but notice that Applejack seemed strangely pre-occupied. After washing the last dishes and thanking their grandmother for dinner, Big Mac pulled Applejack aside.
"Everythin' all right, sis?" he asked. She avoided his eyes for a bit, clearly collecting her thoughts.
"Well, it's jes' that...well, I had ta work extra hard this mornin' ta get the work done by myself, an' y'all were kinda slow workin' this afternoon, an' ya never got that shed organized. Them logs are all jes' sittin' loose in there, an' we can't get much more in." Macintosh frowned, listening intently. "Now, dun' get me wrong," she continued, "I'm real happy that y'all are makin' friends. It's jes' that I'm worried that...well..."
"Spit it out, AJ," he said sternly, "an' be honest."
"Y'all dun' hafta tell me ta be honest!" she huffed, "look, I'm worried that y'all are gunna start spendin' more time out in town and not workin' the fields as much!" she said suddenly, her ears dropping, "I didn't realize how much work ya put in b'fore you left. I can't do it myself. I need yer help." Her eyes were large and glassy, and he felt his heart plummet.
She can't do it alone. She needs help. He looked out the window, where he could see Scootaloo playing with her friends. Sighing deeply, Big Macintosh looked back to his sister.
"Look, I know it sounds silly," she said, "but I need ta know yer not goin' ta leave us high an' dry. I need ta know yer goin' ta keep workin'." Her eyes watering slightly, Macintosh raised a hoof to her shoulder.
"Sis, Ah made a promise that Ah would always take care o' the farm, you, Gramma an' Apple Bloom."
She sighed, the tension fading from her body. "Thanks, big brother. Y'all put a scare into me this mornin'. I should never've doubted you." Smiling, she cantered off down the hall, her old hat bouncing with each step. Macintosh, his face set in stone, looked back out the window to the young pegasus.
"An' an Apple always keeps his promise."
***
"Ah dun' know. Ah jes' dun' know anymore."
I knew I shouldn't listen in. But I did anyway.
"Now, honey, Ah'm sure he'll get it soon. After all, yer mother was the last in her class ta get hers."
"But Macintosh is the oldest in his class by a couple years! Ah already got mah cutie mark when Ah was jes' a li'l older'n Applejack, an' there's Macintosh, failin' classes and hardly able ta buck...Ah wonder if he even tries at all."
I did try. I wanted to tell him again.
But it wouldn't matter.
"An' then he goes lyin' about gettin' a B+ on his test t'day. Yeah, that'll be the day!"
He didn't believe me. I didn't lie.
Why wouldn't he believe me?
"Dear, calm down. After all, in a few months we're goin' ta have another foal an'-"
"It's Apple Family tradition ta run the farm! What's wrong with mah son!?"
"Honey-"
"Applejack deserves the farm! Not him! Not mah lyin', blank-flank son!"
I didn't want to cry.
But I did anyway.
I walked back to my room. Did I hate Father?
Maybe.
I didn't want to. I didn't want him to hate me, but he did.
I looked out the window. I looked at all the apple trees. The farm I promised to run.
"WHAT!?"
Father shouted.
"A NON-APPLE CUTIE MARK!? How could you even suggest somethin' like that!! Mah son is an Apple! He's an Apple! That's jes' the way it is! Mah grandfather ran the farm jes' like his father, an’ mah pa ran the farm jes' like him! Ah grew up jes' like mah pa, an’ Macintosh is gun' do the same! An' Ah'm gun' make sure he runs the farm if’n it's the last thing Ah do!"
I didn't want to get an apple cutie mark.
I didn't have to be stuck here.
I'll do it. I'll get a perfect score. I'll prove I can do whatever I want.
I can be whatever I want.
Out in the field, I saw Grandfather coming home.
Maybe he finished my treehouse?
***
It was almost seven in the evening by the time Macintosh arrived in town. Streets were busy as the shops were closing and friends were meeting up for the evening, and just down the road Macintosh caught sight of his friends, Blues, Rose, Daisy and Lily all working together to close up the flower stand.
"Howdy," Big Mac waved, cantering up to the group.
"Hi Macintosh!" they smiled.
"Hey, Blues!" Macintosh began, "how'd it go with Vinyl Scratch?"
"Well," sighed Blues, "I was just telling them how she came up to me and Cherry. She mentioned that you sent her over, which was really awesome of you, by the way," he smiled weakly, "but Cherry...well..."
"She was being Cherry?" Lily asked.
"Pretty much, yeah. I mean, I finally got a chance to talk to DJ PON-3, but Cherry's all 'you're not going,' and 'forget about your music.'"
Daisy snorted.
"So what did you do?" asked Rose.
"I promised I'd spend extra time with Cherry tonight and tomorrow, so I did get to talk to Vinyl Scratch for a while."
"Did ya get ta show her yer music?" Big Mac said.
"Yeah! She actually really liked it!" Blues' face lit up, "she gave me some really awesome advice too, and wants to hang out some more!"
"That's so wonderful, Blues!" chimed Lily, "I'm so happy for you! I always knew you'd go far with your music!"
Macintosh eyed her suspiciously. You sure didn't act like that yesterday...
"That's great, Blues," Daisy said slowly, "maybe this is your big break?"
"Yeah, I hope so," smiled Blues. He looked up at the clock tower and sighed, turning away from the group. "Well, I guess I should go and find Cherry. I'll see you guys tomorrow?"
"See you then!" they called after him. Rose pulled the ropes and dropped the 'closed' signs on either side of the cart and spun to face the others, smiling. "So! What should we do now?"
"What would you like to do, Macintosh?" Daisy asked. They began walking aimlessly down the road.
"Oh, Ah dunno, what sorta things are there ta do?"
"We could go to SugarCube Corner!" Lily suggested, "get some of Pinkie's cupcakes!"
"Nah, we just ate there for supper," said Rose, much to Macintosh's relief, "I heard Lyra has a friend from out of town performing with her at the amphitheater, want to check that out?"
"That sounds nice," Daisy said, "let's do it." Together they made for the large outdoor theatre, passing through the double doors and finding some seats. The place was almost empty at the moment (Rose said they were a little early), but seats were slowly filling up.
"So Rose," Macintosh said, "or, Roseluck?" She blushed a little at hearing her full name. "How'd the rest o' the day go?"
"Really well, thank you," she smiled, "we were able to stay open a little later and make a few more sales, thanks to you."
"Thanks ta me?"
"You taught Rosey how to do math!" Lily grinned, "she got the bits and stuff counted in no time at all!" Macintosh nodded, blushing slightly.
"How about you?" Rose asked, "what were you up to this afternoon?"
"Ah, y'know," said Mac, "apple farm stuff, buckin' trees an' whatnot."
"It sounds kind of fun," Lily replied suddenly, "could I try bucking a tree sometime?"
"Uh, sure, Ah dun' see why not."
"Cool! I bet I'll get rid of that tree in no time! I've been to a lot of rodeos, so I've seen a lot of bucking! I didn't know trees rode ponies, though. I woulda thought they'd be too heavy, what with being made of tables and chairs and all, but maybe the birds make them lighter?"
Daisy groaned. "You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?"
"Nope!"
Laughing, the friends talked a little more about their day (apparently, Daisy saw a hedgehog at one point) until a pony stepped out on stage and a hush fell over the audience. He introduced the performers tonight, and they appeared with their instruments. The cyan unicorn filly (Lyra, apparently) brought her lyre with her, an indigo and pink maned mare had a row of glasses filled to varying levels, and a grey filly with a bow around her neck propped up her cello. Unlike Macintosh's previous run-ins with the cyan unicorn, she seemed very intense and focused on her performance tonight, hardly breaking a smile as she bowed for the audience. Once they began playing, the theatre was filled with a slow, calming melody; the sort of music perfect for quiet reflection or late night reading, the crystal glasses sending a particularly eerie hum throughout the arena.
It reminded Macintosh of the record Granny Smith brought with her when she moved in with the family. She would listen to it often after Mac's parents passed away; she said it was his father's favorite record growing up. Granny Smith slept a lot, but she spent a lot more time sleeping after his parents died, and even more when his grandfather passed on a few years later; she started mumbling in her sleep then, too. His grandfather, once a strong, red stallion like himself, left the world in a white bed, weak and boney. Building the treehouse was one of the last things he was able to do before he became ill, and the death of his son and daughter-in-law only worsened his condition. Macintosh could often hear Granny Smith crying softly in her sleep, although at the time she did her best to put on a strong face, knowing she was the last one to take care of the three young foals. All his other relatives were far out of town, and his mother's family, the Oranges, were a stuck up bunch of city folk who, Granny Smith once told him, had disowned their sister once she married a farmer; an Apple, no less. They never sent any letters, and only a couple of them came for the funeral; they didn't stay long, either. They only took in little Applejack for those few days out of pity and the hopes of turning her into a city-pony like themselves.
Suddenly feeling very sad, Macintosh thought about his extended family on his father's side. He only saw them maybe once a year, and even then he was only one of the very small number of male ponies. Cousin Braeburn was probably one of the closest 'friends' he had in the family, but once he left to settle AppleLoosa they fell out of touch. Granny Smith, while still kickin', would someday have to part with them too. He had lost a lot of dear ones over the years, forcing him to grow into a stallion before he felt ready. He stifled a sob as the image of his family crying at the news of his parents’ death floated to his mind. Poor Apple Bloom was just a newborn foal, hardly even a week old when it happened. She never knew her mother or father.
That day...The day of the storm...the day he finally got a perfect score...the day his parents passed away...of course that would be the day he would earn the cutie mark his father would never see.