//------------------------------//
// Remember... with Spit and Polish 
// Story: Remember... 
// by flutterJackdash 
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A crash of thunder, a brilliant blinding flash of lightning, then silence. Whimpering, the clopping of hooves against wood as a filly dashes through the halls to the master bedroom. A soft whinny as she pounces her father, he stirs and looks down at her straw-colored mane and bright green eyes.

“Hm? Applejack? What’s wrong?”

He sees the terror in the filly’s eyes, the confusion and misunderstanding mixing into a real fear. He is awakened very effectively by this sight. Green eyes filled with love and concern focus on green eyes awash in fear and distrust.

“What’s wrong, Jackie? Tell me!”

She snuggles into him as another crash of thunder breaches the silence, a bright flash of lightning fills the room in pure white. Somehow, her mother remains sound asleep through all of this. The stallion with the yellow coat and apple-colored mane, the stallion who has taken pride in raising her and who has always loved her, looks at her and sighs.

“Are you afraid of the storm, Jackie?” he asks.

She nods mutely, squeezing her eyes shut and snuggling further into him.

“Ah… Okay, come on then…,” he says as he rolls onto his side and off the bed. He stands beside the bed as she scrambles to lift herself onto his back, where she shimmies up to his neck and wraps her forelegs in a tight grip that doesn’t cut off any air, “Settled? Alright then young’n, come on.”

He stops at the door to the master bedroom and knocks a hat from the wall onto his head. He then moves through the door and makes his way down the hall, careful to make little noise as he heads towards a great window at the very end of the hall. He daren’t wake his mother-in-law else he’d not soon hear the end of it. Rain blasts the window in an amorphous sheet of crystalline sheen, the effect distorts the lightning streaks in the distance. Another clap of thunder roars through the air, and Applejack tightens her grip. He notices also that she is trembling.

“Now now, th’ storm is a good thing, Jackie,” he says quietly, his accent drawn and eloquent in his husky voice, “th’ rain means th’ crops can drink plenty, th’ wind upsets th’ soil and makes it ripe for planting in a few days, and th’ lightning… well…,” he trails off at that point. He reaches a hoof up and nudges her, she whimpers again and shakes her head.

He moves closer to the window, the rapid fire pitapata of rain against the glass is louder here than it was just a few inches back. He reaches up and shifts his hat, moving it from his head to her head. It rests proper for but a moment before dropping down over hey eyes. She uses a forehoof to shove it back up on top of her head. He feels her trembling slow down, coming almost to a stop as his hat came to rest on her head and she moved to adjust it. He waits, patiently, standing there while staring out the window.

“Th’ thunder? That’s th’ sound that lightning makes when it hits th’ ground… but don’t worry too much about that, it don’t usually get too close to ponies or nothin’,” he finishes quietly. He smiles discreetly as he feels her grip loosen. She tentatively slides off his back and lands on the floor with four small clops of her hooves. After a moment, she comes around in front of him and rears up, placing her forehooves on the windowsill and looking out at the storm. He draws closer to her, brushing a forehoof against her little withers as he does. A small orange head beset with enormous green eyes turns to look up at her father who, in turn, smiles down at her and brushes a hoof against her cheek before gently turning her to face the window again.

“But if’n ya take th’ time for a proper look?” he begins in a hushed tone, almost a whisper,, gesturing out the window with a foreleg, “well, y’aint likely to find a more beautiful or fearsome sight in nature.” At that, a blast of lightning streaks across the sky, lighting the orchards in blinding ghostly white and setting the apples glowing. Applejack gasps, not in fear but in awe of the sight. The thunder follows shortly after, but she barely notices is.





A streak of grey now featured prominently in the apple red mane atop the stallion’s head, eyes sunken with fatigue and age. A slight slouch in his back created a dip, but he still stood strong and ready to work. He had just run into a lovely young orange mare who seemed a hard worker herself.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stood before the old stallion, an image of enduring physical strength slowly fading away before her. She simply shook her head, hoping to have heard wrong, for anything to explain what had just been said.

The middle of the orchard, that’s where she’d found him. She was happy, he was out and working again. It meant a lot to her, to see him out and about after mama died. It was wonderful to get a little sister, she couldn’t have felt more proud of it if she tried, but the hurt that game with the too-great cost often left her feeling drained. She imagined it was no different for her daddy, but he didn’t talk much about it and while he’d watched over Applebloom some, there was always that pungent aroma on his breath. A sour smell that told her he was gone again, that he couldn’t take it, that he didn’t want to face it.

So, in time, Apple Bloom’s supervision fell to Granny Smith. She was strong as ever, mentally if not physically. She was slowing down, the farm work was getting to be a bit too much and her hip was starting to show signs of wear. Daddy simply kept going, just about on autopilot. She’d been relieved to see he’d made his way out into the orchard, figuring that this meant he’d gotten back to work and maybe took a step in a healthier direction.

“Pa? Who’re ya talkin’ about?” she asked nervously.

It wasn’t so simple, it seemed. She’d heard him just fine, but what she hard terrified her. It left her trembling, her coat and skin felt cold as her heart pounded sending a rushing a blood through her ears and casting her vision into a slight flickering.

“Why, my mama of course, ain’t ya met her? Name of Carmel Apple, yup!” he said proudly.

“Uh… Can’t say ah’ve seen yer ma, no… I’m sorry,” and here she hesitated, cringed inwardly, and then marched on, “sir, uh, but perhaps I can help ya find a better place to search?”

She’d just have to be strong here. She didn’t fully understand, but she understood enough. He didn’t recognize her, the orchard, or anything of his own life. A life he had worked to build, a family he had loved and nurtured. He was back in his colt years, he was looking for a mare long gone and forgetting those he had now. She swallowed and held back tears as she forced a smile onto her lips and gently began to guide him toward the house.





“Jackie? You here?” he called out. He had just gotten home after a day on the market, he’d been out mostly selling wares but if he was calling out to her then she knew he must have a gift for her, her brother and her sister. Ma had taken ill, and stayed in bed most days since Apple Bloom was born. The baby spent enough time in the bed with her mama, but the mare simply didn’t have the energy to interact most days. So Apple Bloom would lay there, sleeping calmly as she only ever did nestled up against her mama. If she weren’t with mama, then sure enough daddy had her and was taking care of her. He made sure she was cleaned and changed, fed and happy. He played with her, and he loved her just as much as any of his children.

Macintosh helped around the house and farm as much as he could, and he was growing fast enough too, big enough for the farm work already and willing to learn. He spent a lot of time with Granny and the new foal. He played with his baby sister if he wasn’t tired from working the farm, and he made time for his mother no matter how tired he was. Often just enjoying sleeping near her, spending that companionable quiet time with her. He didn’t talk much, but around her he had at least a few words to say.

Applejack? She followed daddy around, carefully observing his routines and chores. She picked up on the things he did pretty quickly, and though she was small she still tried out anything she saw him do. She didn’t have the strength to get more than an apple from a small tree, and more often fell on her face and endured laughter from her daddy. He didn’t mean it in any way hurtful, and he helped her up and comforted her when she got upset with herself. It wasn’t that she’d looked foolish, it was that she tried so hard to help and she wasn’t enough on her own. He always thanked her for the help.

So when daddy came home and called out to the household, she galloped down the stairs and right up to him, throwing her forelegs around his great neck and hugging him tight. He raised a foreleg and gently hugged her back. He was strong, mountainous even, and he often said he felt that Macintosh was sure to grow into a big stallion like himself. The more he saw of that, the more pride he showed in his colt. All that Applejack knew was that she was happy when he got home, and she felt safer nowhere more than right here with daddy.

She noticed that he carried a fairly big crate on his back and wondered at the size of it and what it might hold. He didn’t bring home gifts very often, but that didn’t mean it never happened. It just meant that when it did happen, it was that much more special. She was definitely excited, giddy and full of energy. She reigned herself in and backed away, giving him room to breathe and to talk.

“Mac? Where y’at boy? Git on in here!” he cried out after he stepped inside, passing Applejack. Her gaze followed him, settling at last on his cutie mark. It was a large, half a green apple with a star superimposed over top of it. It glistened at the edge and looked full of life. It was why the town had taken to calling him “Big” Apple, though his real name was Fresh Apple.

She followed him the rest of the way into the living room, staying close by his side. She was practically his little twin, in attitude if not in appearance. Of course, there was the matter of his size. He was large, built like a barn, while she was a petite thing. For all that he was so large, he was still gentle though, and soft spoken most of the time. She was in awe of his hard work and his warmth. She longed for the day she’d grow up and be just like him, work the farm like he did, care for her family like he did. She hurt for him when she saw how sad he was to see mama ill and bedridden.

With that, he shrugged the crate from his back. It landed with a whump on the wooden floor, half on the circular area rug that also served as a resting place for the coffee table. The sound of thick hoofbeats sounded as Macintosh galloped through the house, a stricken Granny chastising him for being so loud when the foal just got to sleep. He arrived in the living room shortly after, having heard Granny’s admonishment and apologized for it.

“Boy, you’re gettin’ plenty big enough now to be helpin’ out ‘round the farm more. Ya do a good amount now, don’t think ah don’t notice an’ appreciate it. Yer a strong lad, make an old stallion right proud. Think I’ll git ya started on bigger responsibilities tomorrow, how’s that?” Fresh asked.

Macintosh nodded. It was solemn, but it was real. He meant it, or he wouldn’t have nodded at all. Honesty was an important virtue in the Apple family, which Macintosh embraced as sacred as anypony as in the family did. Fresh nodded and dipped his head into the crate, pulling out a yoke and tossing it over to Macintosh.

“Now, that’s a might large for ya just now… But you’ll grow into it, I know you will… Yer gonna be big as me one day, boy, maybe even bigger, and you’ll be pullin’ that plow when the time comes. So we’ll get you started growin’ tomorrow, get you ready to fit into that there yoke,” he said cheerily. Macintosh nodded with enthusiasm at this.

“Eeyup,” replied Macintosh.

Fresh turned to Jackie, smiling at her.

“You… Now I know you’ll work hard… Reckon you been followin’ me around the farm since you could walk, huh? Doin’ plenty ta help me out, ah’m proud a’you too!” he chuckled as she blushed. She had no idea that he’d known about that.

“So, I reckon you need a little recreation, yeah? You got too much work on yer mind, not enough play, t’aint healthy,” he said as he dipped his head into the crate and pulled out a guitar. It wasn’t the nicest one that ever got made, but it meant a lot to her simply because he had picked it out and brought it home.

“Don’t you worry none, Jackie, I can teach ya plenty about that there 6-string, and you’ll be a-playin’ beautifully before y’know it!”

Applejack nodded, smiling as she pulled the guitar into her forelegs and hugged it gently.

“Oh, yeah, and another thing,” he said, chuckling, “that mane of yours is outta control. I’m thinkin’…,” he trailed off as he reached up and batted his hat from his head, let it flip into the air, then swatted it down onto her head, “Eeyup, that sure looks right to me,” he said with a wink and a smile.

Applejack glowed as she stared up at the brim of the hat before it slid down over her eyes.





Applejack rushed into the house after a full day of chores. Daddy was resting in the living room with a mug of cider, so she hurried to her room to fetch her guitar so she could show him what she’d learned and rushed just as quickly back down the stairs. She fumbled a little at first, quite a few notes rang a little wrong and Fresh just smiled and suppressed every wince. She played with real feeling, throwing passion in where skill had not yet fully grown, and felt proud of what she could do.

He listened, never stopping to correct her, and swaying his head to the tune while tapping along with his free forehoof.

“Well, by golly…,” he says in a soft timbre, voice cracking with emotion, “don’t reckon I’ve ever heard better’n that!”

Applejack beamed at the compliment. In truth, she wasn’t sure how well she had played, but now she felt confident in her ability. Now she’d put more effort into practicing. It was all the motivation she’d ever need to keep on going. She carried on plucking the strings and playing a slightly off-tune tune, but he listened like it was the most beautiful music the world had to offer. He sipped at his cider, and when she tired, he offered her a little sip of her own. She leaned against him, closing her eyes.

“You sure do make a old stallion proud, I’ll tell ya what,” he said.

And then he was carrying a lightly snoring filly on his back, up the stairs and to his room. There he lay her down on the bed between himself and his Buttercup. Buttercup breathed weakly, wheezing gently as Applejack instinctively snuggled into her. Apple Bloom yawned wide between Buttercup’s forelegs, just about hidden beneath a brilliant gamboge explosion of curls.

Fresh sighed, leaning down and planting a kiss on each of girls before settling down and curling around them. A tear slipped down his cheek.





Applejack led him into Ponyville Hospital, where a doctor and a nurse were waiting to receive him. He looked confused, and a little frightened, by the surroundings. He had expected his home, and his parents, but this?

“Why, this ain’t my mama’s house! ‘sway too big! Where are we at anyways, miss?” he said as he turned to look at her with faded green eyes, a greying apple-red mane drifting lazily in a passing breeze. Applejack saw no recognition at all, just her faint reflection in the familiar eyes. She wanted to see more than that. She blinked and bit back tears, and breathed to get her trembling under control.

“This here’s the hospital, D-… uhh… Mr. Apple. I just think ya might be a little sick or somethin’, thought I’d get ya checked out, o-okay?” she asked shakily. She fought to keep the tears at bay, she refused to let the pain show through and despoil his illusionary life as it was. He’d done so much for her, raised her up, kept her safe, loved her no matter what, and when mama was gone he tried so very hard to still be there. He didn’t suffer with the loss of mama now, so she could be strong for him now after all her life he’d been strong for her.

The nurse and doctor led Fresh through a set of double doors. Applejack found a seat in the lobby and closed her eyes, only then letting the pain express itself. Only then letting the tears fall. Only then shattering into a thousand pieces. Only then falling into herself in despair.





“Dementia, I’m afraid. It’s escalating pretty fast too, I’d say. He was lucid yesterday, yeah?” the doctor stated and asked.

Applejack nodded mutely as she listened to the diagnosis and wondered what could be done.

“It’s gonna run its course, I’m afraid… Not really anything that we can do but make him comfortable. Might put him in a home, but I don’t think he has a lot of time left based on what I’m seeing. I’m sorry, Ms. Apple. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, and I’m especially sorry that this is happening to Fresh Apple of all ponies.”

“Mmhm,” she replied. So that was it, her world was at an end. She had now lost both of her parents. What would she do? The farm needed a lot of work, and at least there was Macintosh to help out. Granny would be there too, and she might not be all there but she sure wasn’t gone. Applebloom was growing up, she’d soon be in school. She began to regret her trip to Manehattan, remembering how much it hurt her daddy to see her leaving the farm for the big city. He didn’t fight it, in fact he supported her all the way, but it had been killing him to see his baby girl go.

Applejack closed her eyes and wept, and a pair of white forelegs pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, dear… I can’t imagine how you must feel, but… Don’t be afraid to let it out, and I’m here for you, okay?” she spoke softly.

Applejack simply buried her snout into the swirl of elegant mulberry mane.

“You can come back here, you can visit if you like… and I’ll come with you, okay?”

Applejack shuddered, whimpering without words as she continued to weep.





Fresh stood silent, staring at the spot in the ground where his Buttercup had just gone for her final rest. There wasn’t a stone or other marker there, only the collected moisture in the dirt below him as he stared unseeing at the ground.

“Daddy?” asked a little orange filly as she gently prodded his foreleg.

He took in a deep breath, sniffled, then turned his gaze to Applejack.

“Yeah, young’n?” he asked in his soft timbre.

She blinked up at him, then instead of words she reared up and wrapped her forelegs around his neck and hugged him tight.

“Ah miss her too, daddy…,” she said quietly. He wrapped a large foreleg around his oldest filly and squeezed her to his chest as she broke down into tears.

“It’s alright young’n… Let it out, ah’m here… Daddy’s here for you,” he said quietly.