“Hot today.” I say to Big Mac, eager to break the silence for the ride to the farm.
“Eeyup.”
“Felt it comin’ in. Took a while to slow down. Ate up more runway than usual.”
“Eeyup… by the way, don’t take anything AJ does personally. She’s got a lot on her mind.”
“I’m sure I’m the source of most of it.”
When the remaining siblings return home, I swallow my pride, steel my nerves, and check for an e-cigarette.
The front door opens with Apple Bloom entering first and hugging me. Her older sister however relegates to the “awkward half-hearted upper body only” hug, saying only “glad ye’r here, Max” and heading straight for the dinner table.
“Well,” I think to myself, “I don’t have a car, so I can’t make an excuse to go out for food.”
“Come on Max! Dinner time!” Apple Bloom calls.
An assortment of plates makes its way around the table, and I partake a little more lightly than usual.
“Y’alright?” Granny Smith asks, since she’s sitting next to me.
“Yeah, just had a big lunch before I left Miami. Pinkie’s treat.”
“That girl does know how to feed a crowd.”
“That she does.”
That night, to my complete surprise, AJ has offered to share her bed with me, even though I’ve already made myself comfortable on their couch. Making no effort to resist, lest I agitate her further, I relocate to AJ’s room and get comfortable as I can.
Before I can get comfortable though, she closes her door and says,
“Sit down. We need to talk.”
Too afraid to say anything, I do as I’m told and have a seat.
“Now that ye’r here, we can finally figure somethin’ out. As you know, Sweet Apple Acres has gone through some… financial difficulties. We simply don’t have any room for purchases in our budget, and we’ve cut costs as much as we reasonably can. Do ye’ remember how I said we’ll need some… assistance?”
“Yes, of course.
“Then shall we start working things out?”
“Please,” she practically begs, “we really need the money to fix our equipment.”
“I’m happy to help.”
“Oh thank you! Thank you very much, sugar cube!” She says hugging me tight.
“There is, however, one small thing I have to say.”
“What?”
“This seems a little unlike you. You’re the most honest person I know. This seems completely out of character for you. Applejack asking for money?”
“Granny Smith doesn’t want us to just ask for money or get a loan. She’s afraid we won’t qualify for a good interest rate. As for just asking for money, she and I both don’t like asking for such huge favors like that. Unfortunately for me, that’s just what it’s come to.”
“I see.” I respond, now figuring I can assert some dominance by virtue of knowing I have some cash flow that I can be a bit liberal with the amount to lend. “Well, I can go through your finances and see if there are other ways to cut costs. I’m quite the thrift king if I say so myself.”
“Okay.”
“It’s getting late. Do you want to go over it tomorrow?”
“Yeah, but let me get them first though. You can review them on yer’ own while we harvest.”
“Oh alright then.”
Next morning, Applejack wakes me up before she heads to work, showing me where everything is. About 20 minutes after she leaves, I force myself out of bed and start to comb through a history that upon initial inspection dates back only 2 years.
Sifting through the collections of ledgers, checkbooks, invoices, and statements, I come across a few outstanding records, including car payments, the last farm-related equipment purchases, and the most glaring one, insurance estimates.
As soon as I see her, I call AJ back to her room.
“Okay, there are a few things that stand out to me. Your last farm equipment purchase was before any of your siblings purchased their cars. What happened there?”
“Uh, I needed somethin’ new, and also could be used for farm work.”
“Okay, combined use, no problem there, I can dig [it]. As for the equipment purchases themselves, type of equipment aside, I know we did everything by hand when I was here last, so when was the last time you used them?”
“A few years ago. Over time, they just stopped workin’ and we never got around to fixin’ ‘em since the repair bills were sky high.”
“Which leads me to my next question. Why is the equipment insured for so little a value? Even I know that the type of equipment insured here isn’t even worth half of the coverage amount.”
“That’s the highest value we could get. They refused to insure it for more. It’s exactly why most of our equipment has just been sittin’. Insurance wouldn’t cover it, nor did they wanna write it off.“
I groan, knowing that insurance basically fucked them over.
“Well… there are few things we can do to try and stop the bleeding.”
“Oh, we fired them as soon as they stopped coverage. If we had the time and money, we could just fix them ourselves.”
“So they’re currently uninsured?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Um, do you want to keep them?”
“No. We’ve been okay without ‘em, though I kinda wanna keep ‘em just in case.”
“What’s your supply and demand like?”
“Well, it’s been pretty low, so we’ve been lucky to just do all the pickin’ ourselves.”
“I see. During that time period where your equipment first went down until roughly now, did the nature of work change?”
“Can’t say it made much of a difference, but most’a the equipment on average saved about an hour or two.”
“Okay. I’ll ask again for clarification: do you want to sell your equipment or keep it?”
“I’ll sell it later, but just in case demand goes back up, I’ll wanna repair it.”
“Will doing your own maintenance affect the resale value that much?”
“Max, I’ve been doing my own maintenance since before I could drive.”
“I’m only asking just so I can see how much money you’ll need.”
“Oh.” She blushes. “We’ll admittedly need quite a bit.”
“Not a problem. I just want to have some accurate statements in my notes.”
“D’ya really have to be this formal?”
“For my sake, yes. I don’t just lend money to anyone who asks.”
“Ye’ have enough to pay for anything and everything ye could want, yet you’re still going through a formal process to approve us for a loan?”
“This isn’t really a loan. I don’t expect you to pay back everything within a specific timeframe. I trust you very much, and I can also see here that the problem is a bit more dire than what you told me in hospital. Also, now that I know this is because of, or at least largely due in part to, your insurance, that basically guarantees what you’re calling “pre-approval.” You need money. How much, how often?”
“What?” She responds very clearly in a state of shock.
“How much money do you need? How often should I transfer it to you?”
“You’re going to give us money to fix everything up?!”
“Affirmative.”
“M… Ma… Max, I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Before you do, there is a bit of collateral to discuss.” I say putting my hand up.
Her face drops immediately. She then removes her hat and holds it at her chest.
“Oh. Yes, of course.”
“I have no problem with giving you money for this. However, there are a couple of things I noticed as I went through your financials. 1. You still have an outstanding loan on your Raptor. 2. As much as I laud you for being able to own one, it may not have been the best choice, even though it seems you make good use of it both on the farm and as a personal vehicle. I’m happy to include the amount to pay off the rest of it, but there is a small price to pay.”
“Go on?” She responds with intrigue.
“I can give you the money as you see fit, but to not make it seem like you just asked me for the money, I’ll need to take that Raptor as collateral.”
“That truck is my pride and joy. I worked very hard fer that and was just barely able to buy it.”
“I understand. However, you know me, and I have two or three of them myself. I can’t think of anything else that you could do to make it seem like you’re not just asking for money. I did also say I will pay the rest of it off for you.”
“No, I want to be able to pay for it myself.”
“That’s fine, but I don’t think there’s anything else I can do. For your sake as well as your grandmother’s, having the money and keeping your truck will raise her suspicion.”
“Yeah… I know the farm really needs the financial help, and I could get in a heap’a trouble if Granny Smith found out you were just giving us money.”
“Applejack, believe me, I already feel guilty for considering taking your truck. However, for the sake of impartiality and to keep suspicion low, it’s all I can come up with.”
“I know, Max. I know.”
“Don’t think too hard about it. If you need to return to picking, try not to let it distract you.”
“Okay.” She says as she puts her hat back on and heads downstairs.
I then make a call, since I might be able to sweeten the pot.
“Hello!” Mario responds cheerfully.
“Hey Mario, how you doing?”
“Pretty good, you?”
“Not too bad. I’m calling about the two Tacomas you had as work trucks in Brooklyn. My friend Applejack and her family have fallen on some hard times and they need some help. Are you planning on keeping them?”
“We haven’t used them in a long time, but I know Luigi didn’t want to get rid of them just in case we needed to come back to plumbing. Let me talk to him and see what he says.”
“Okay. They’ll be used as work trucks anyway, just hauling apples instead.”
“No problem! I’ll get back to you!”
“Thank you so much. Let me know ASAP.”
“Okay!”
“See you later.”
“B-bye!”
With that, I head downstairs for the first time today, well past noon.
“Howdy Max!” Apple Bloom calls right before she leaves.
“Hey Apple Bloom.” I respond before I go hunting for cold water.
As I think of other ways to help, I can always just work under the table in the cover of darkness. Pay as a lump sum since either installments or a wire transfer in any amount might raise suspicions. Alternatively, I can just give them new equipment, but then they’d have two sets of everything, and the whole reason for the deal is to repair and then sell the equipment anyway. If working by hand still meets their demand, then the equipment is just dead weight and sinking costs.
I have no problem with loaning money, but while I feel bad about taking AJ’s truck as collateral, I shouldn’t. I know that because I know her relatively well, she’s trustworthy, and we’re friends, and maybe me lending her money could help win her favor, even if us being in a romantic relationship is but a pipe dream. (Ironically, that’s what I said when I first fell for Rosalina. Rather fitting, considering where she’s from.)
Nevertheless, as a friend (and potential lover) (no, bad Max), I am more than obligated to help her out. She needs help. I have the resources.
Granny Smith has dinner on the table just as all three return with plenty of barrels in tow. Having just missed the last delivery op, they’ll just have to make a run tomorrow.
“Wanna do an early round tomorrow?” AJ asks.
“Why not?”
“Alrighty!”
Knowing I’ll have deli meats from New York waiting for me at home, I very happily enjoy this bit of country-style home cooking.
When we retire for the night, AJ closes the door behind her and sits down on the bed next to me.
“So, have you made up your mind?”
“I’ll do it, but I need a truck of equal or lesser value.”
“Can be done. I have a few trucks sitting I can lend you, though to say equal or lesser value is kind of redundant. The only things worth more than your truck are Raptors off the showroom floor, SPS compensators, SEMA customs, and Baja builds.”
“Very funny. Just give me summ’n practical. None’a them frilly or flashy extras. Nothin’ frou-frou.”
“Of course not.” I say writing her descriptor down in my notes.
Next morning, AJ and I wake up at around the same time, but I use the shower first, since she takes night showers on account of the work in the heat.
As soon as I’m ready, I grab the keys to… Big Mac’s truck, a red single cab, long bed F-150. Built similarly to me (except way more muscular), I make no adjustments to the seat before heading for the delivery center.
Making the correct driveway entry, I’m in and out in less than 2 minutes, with two people taking crates and barrels of fresh apples.
On the way back, I get a text from the owner of the truck to come to the west orchard.
Parked at the loading bay, I hand the keys over then walk back home so I can have an e-cigarette on the way.
By the time I reach the house, the stick has gone out, so I toss it and head inside to see what I can do around the house. Granny Smith assigns me to clean the bathrooms, so donning a hazmat suit (not really), I begin my work on room 1 of 5 to clean.
Two long hours of scrubbing and brushing, I emerge from the bathroom so intoxicated by the essence of clean that those first few breaths of fresh air remind me how precious air is, and how for granted I take it.
“Gee Max,” Granny calls as I sit down and rest, “you coulda just left the door open.”
“I live surrounded by jet fuel and petrol. Cleaning fluids are a breath of fresh air for me.”
“Dang city slickers.” She snarls.
As I put all the cleaning supplies away, the eldest two siblings enter the house. The smell must be that strong, because they immediately start coughing.
“Heavens Max! Did you clean the bathroom??”
“Yep.”
“Did ‘ye not air it out?”
“Guess not? I don’t even notice the smell.”
“That’s probably because ye’r delirious.” She says as she grabs me and shoves me out the door.
“Get some fresh air!”
I only roll my eyes and do as I’m told. So I do what I do best: have another e-cigarette.
The average lifespan of a single stick is about 500 or so puffs, so there’s no way I’ll finish this in one go. Instead, I return to the house after my mental timer goes off.
“Applejack’s lookin’ for ya’.” Apple Bloom says just as I walk in through the door.
“How much trouble am I in?”
She chuckles and says, “she’s in her room.”
With that, I head upstairs and find AJ waiting for me on her chair.
“Close the door.”
Doing as I’m told, Applejack then stands up and says,
“I’m ready. I’ll give you my truck. It’s time for us to just finally be rid of our old equipment. I’m sure I’ll find some place that’ll gladly take ‘em.”
“Okay then.” I say as I reach for my notes, but AJ has already written in ink her commitment.
“You committed before I asked?”
“You already asked. I’m just respondin’ late.”
“Ok then. How much? How often?”
“Well, I need to find time to start working on errythang. Sadly, that won’t happen until our offseason, so not until the holidays.”
“Do you want to start receiving money now?”
“Nah. I’ll tell ya when.”
“I’ll take your truck at that time. I also talked to Mario, and there is a possibility that you can use their old work trucks. Figured if they’re not using them, you can.”
“I appreciate that. Mighty kind of ya.”
“Of course. I hate seeing cars sitting, even though I’m very much guilty of it.”
“Why don’t ya rent them out?”
“I trust no one.”
She chuckles.
“You really are a gem, Max.”
“In a minefield. That’s been some people’s description of me. Consider it a diamond in the rough, but way more… volatile?”
“In a way, yes, but that’s just your sense’a humor. The word I would use to describe you is… unique.”
“Thanks.”
“Not like that! I mean ta’ say that there are a lot of good things about ya too. I don’t know anybody else who would take me to Chicago jus’ fer’ dinner. I don’t know anybody else who would drop everything and go across the country to help. I don’t know anybody else who in your situation would lend me money just because they can.”
“Well, I’m not anybody else.”
“And that’s, what makes you unique.”
“Mornin’ sugar cube! Wanna join me?”
“Why not?” I say mentally foggier than San Francisco but still assisted out of bed.
Fortunately, AJ’s morning chores in-house as it were are just enough for me to get ready, so once I’m dressed for the fields, I slide down the railing, land right in front of her, and join her outside ahead of even Big Mac.
“Largest yield’s [in the] Northwest orchard, so we’ll go there. Big Mac said he wasn’t quite done.” She says as she tosses me the keys.
“Yay.”
As I head down to the drive, Big Mac’s truck is missing, so maybe not ahead of him. Anyway, when we arrive in the northwest orchard, I join her this time and make sure to grab another step ladder. There are still quite a few trees to harvest, so I hope that my contributions actually mean something.
“Thanks for doin’ this. We’ve got a lotta trees here to get, and I don’t want this crop going past its time.”
“Happy to help.” I say making quick work of one of their less-plentiful trees.
Unfortunately, my methods are much slower than AJ’s, so she quickly passes me in both number of trees and Apples PC (per capita - kind of a lame computer joke there), but nonetheless, as soon as I finish the last tree due in this orchard, we load them up and head for the next one.
With only 75% of the trees here bearing fruit due immediately, we make quick work of this one too, and in no time at all, we’ve conquered two orchards and they’re off for the deliveries warehouse before 10:00.
Just as we return to the farmhouse, Apple Bloom is leaving, so she gives us a cheerful wave from the driver’s seat as we pass each other. Not quite the time for a break, we head for the east orchard, the closest one to the house and the one with the next highest priority.
“Whew-wee!” AJ exclaims as we pack the last crate, “at the rate we’re going, we could have this entire orchard’s ration ready to ship out in a day!”
“Hell yeah.” I respond smugly, to which we high-five and head out to the next orchard.
*text from Apple Bloom - via CarPlay*
“Hey sis, can you meet me back at the house for the returned crates and barrels?”
“On the way.” She responds.
With loaded receptacles of our own, we trade loads by trading trucks. AB’s run list is short today, so it’s not worth the transferring loads between trucks.
We have plenty of time and are well ahead of pace to finish before dinner, so we take our time returning the empties to the loading bays so they’re ready for their next load of apples. Since anyone can do it, AJ does all the driving and I drop off the crates from inside the bed. I haven’t had this much fun in a truck in quite a while.
When the bed is empty, I hop back into the cab, suddenly realizing that AB’s truck is the only one on the farm that runs on diesel.
“Why is that?” I then ask AJ.
“Personal choice. It’s the same reason she got a Chevy. She just…wanted to be different.”
“And how did you react to that?”
“We didn’t really care. As long as it’s reliable. Even Granny Smith wasn’t that concerned about it, even though her family have been Ford strongholds since forever.”
“Did your parents have a divergence in that regard?”
“Uh,” she ponders as she puts the gear lever in park, “mom’s side from what I remember were Toyota people.”
“Toyota Pickup or early-gen Tacoma?”
“Both I reckon, since Tundras were darn expensive.”
“They still are. Most Tacomas too.”
“I know. Pinkie’s sister Marble has one. It’s the most expensive thing that entire family has.”
“Next to Pinkie’s Escalade.”
“Well, I mean on their family farm.”
“Fair enough.”
“I don’t even know why Pinkie got that. She should’ve just gotten a regular GM SUV.”
“Luxury rideshare? She probably would’ve been fine with a Denali anyway.”
“Exactly.”
“I ain’t judging. It just seems weird that she would have a Cadillac when she moves more cargo than passengers.”
For brunch (AJ usually skips breakfast), we have a simple scramble of home fries and eggs. Nothing too fancy, veg in fact!
I grab some water as it is starting to get hot, even inside the house. With a cooler and some bottles stashed, Apple Bloom returns, we switch trucks back, and we return to picking apples.
Three orchards down, three to go by noon. I set us a target time of 17:00, so we can try and finish before the hottest part of the day. Though with a forecasted high of 102°, it’ll probably be treated as a cutoff.
Given the rate at which we finished two of the largest orchards already, we have this one in the bag, so wasting no more time, we head out to the property’s two most distant orchards to conquer a task that would require active counter-productivity to miss the 17:00 target.
Leaving only room to breathe, I start picking away at the fruit on the trees. I can’t keep pace with Applejack, but at least I can try.
By the time we finish the orchard, I put a single crate in the cab just in case we run out of bed space. The Raptor’s bed is less than 6 feet, so it is a possibility.
Soon, we arrive at the last orchard, and immediately, there’s a problem. We’re short on receptacles. To my chagrin, we head back to the farmhouse, drop off the loaded goods, then run between other orchards and grab a couple, since I made the mistake of dropping them all off in the orchards we already picked.
In the end, it works out conveniently, since we now have enough bed space for this last orchard. As such, we pick every last tree here, leaving only a single Apple only just budding, nowhere near ready to be picked.
When we return to the house, the clock strikes 17:00.
“Right on time, and really reliable.” I think to myself.
“Dinner’s ready!” Granny Smith cells a few short minutes later.
As I check emails through the course of the meal, waiting to see if there are any changes to my schedules, Big Mac finally returns.
“Uh, Max, can I talk to ya?” He half-whispers.
“Okay.” I say worriedly, glad AJ is busy talking to the other women.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I know about the, Uh… deal you’ve been making with AJ.”
“Oh. Well, I know she wouldn’t do it if she wasn’t any more desperate than it seems you are now.”
He nods.
“Plus, if insurance did that, I wouldn’t hesitate to lend you money.”
“Look, Max, I’m not here to tell you no. You need to know that if Granny Smith finds out, things might not look so good for you. Plus, I’m kinda with her. I hate asking fer’ money, but if it means getting rid’a that dead weight, I won’t stop you.”
“I’m honestly surprised you aren’t putting up any resistance. I’m sure you know that AJ herself didn’t want to have to do it, but if that equipment needs repair, insurance literally did the opposite of what they’re supposed to do, and you can’t afford to fix it, I’m not going to be a bystander here.”
“Mac? Max?” The elder sister calls not 3 seconds later.
“Speaking of.” I quip.
“Can ‘ya help Granny rearrange the fridge?”
Big Mac nods and gives me a look of reassurance and mutual trust before heading downstairs.
“He knows.” I mutter, trying to keep it subtle.
“Say what now?”
“He knows about the money.”
“Did he try and stop ya?”
“No, but he did voice his “disapproval under other circumstances.” Sounds like he’s fed up with insurance as much as you are.”
“Well, he did have to do most of the talkin’ to ‘em. Ain’t never seen him go that mad before.”
“I don’t blame him. I hate insurance too. Mine once doubled my rate because some schmuck who was texting and driving rear-ended me, but it was still ruled my fault because the light had just turned green, so ‘I should’ve been in motion at enough of a speed to have been able to prevent the accident.””
“What kind’a cockamamie nonsense is that?”
“A chicken-shit move by a company in an industry that basically plays politics to dodge responsibility and shift the blame away from them.”
“‘What good is insurance if you get punished for using it?’”
“You got me.”
Next morning, with all the work completed early, AB goes on a clean sweep run in case we missed any fruits so the other three of us can inspect the equipment in question.
Thanks to Granny Smith’s old fashioned methods being instilled into her grandkids, automatic harvesters, mechanical pickers, and even a motorized smasher are under covers, and not in use because of the head of ops. As such, they’re worth quite a bit and have only been used once or twice. Most of these are sellable as is as they haven’t even been properly broken in yet, but because there aren’t any other apple orchards around (short of the larger scale ones deep in the Ozarks), they don’t have any buyers.
Other equipment in their shed includes pruning supplies, chainsaws, handsaws, and a couple of lawnmowers, which are showing signs of long disuse. When Apple Bloom was still very small, they had a very close call when one of those machines picked up a piece of debris and almost lacerated and very well could’ve lost her eye. Since most of the acreage isn’t covered in grass anymore, having been slowly converted into dirt roads for vehicle use, their need for lawnmowers has basically come to nought.
One of their machines had a prop shaft snap at the U-joint. Fortunately it was the auxiliary line and not the drive line, so the rig is drivable, but worth substantially less as is. Definitely worth a DIY replacement. This is the piece of equipment that insurance specifically refused to cover.
Aside from chains or blades that need sharpening, replacing, or general servicing, and the virtually nonexistent need for grass cutting equipment means that the biggest task other than replacing the auxiliary prop shaft is finding willing buyers for everything. Unfortunately, the reason they still have to ask me for money is because the insurance money was not paid out, as the company held them out of their other policies’ coverage, which is why they fired them. Cutting those losses and stopping that bleeding cost them dearly, which is why, now that I have both of the eldest siblings on the same side, I have to take AJ’s Raptor. She’s still upside down on it but refuses to let me pay for it, so I decided her sacrifice would be to have to pay for it even though she’s not using it. All the other cars have been paid off, so it really has come to this.
Working in a poorly lit shed to move some things around, I regret not bringing a pair of work boots, because in the pile of saws, I step on some old, dull blades and in the case of one, have an old chain nearly take out my ankle.
I then receive a headlight and find some other lost treasures of hand tools and missing attachments that are immediately returned to their toolbox. Feeling more like a mechanic than a farmhand, I eventually get a pile started, with AB sorting the For Sale pieces from the junk, along with a third pile of “usable, but TLC/work needed.”
Granny Smith eventually checks in on us then goes through the piles with her youngest grandchild and disposes all the broken glass, chains, and splintered old tool heads from what I can only imagine came from her era.
As the bins go out for collection tonight, we picked a good day to clean everything up. Once Big Mac goes through the broken machinery, he makes a list of serial, parts, and service numbers so he can start ordering the necessary parts.
That evening, AJ emerges from the shower and insists I take one. Following her lead, I then jump in bed next to her and we start looking for a program to watch. Quickly though, she falls asleep and rolls towards me, so I instinctively try to dodge her, but she wakes up.
“Sorry sugar cube. Normally I have the other pillow to hold.”
“Wanna hold me?” I ask on a whim.
“You’d let me do that?”
“If it helps.”
“Come’ere. I’m gonna make you feel safe tonight.”
“I’ve never been the little spoon before.” I say as I climb in.
Apple Bloom takes me back to the airport so her siblings can continue sorting out the junk. Just before I walk through the doors, she stops me.
“Max, I know that I may not be the most qualified one to tell you this, but ye’r family to us, my sister especially, and here at Sweet Apple Acres, family is an implicit contract, not limited or defined by blood. No matter how bad ye’ mess up, family’s always there to catch you. Family is that one final immutable safety net that remains constant even when your entire world has crashed and burned around you. Those relatives of yours that you were close with when you were young put on one hell of a ruse if they up and left you out to dry just because you didn’t wanna become a doctor.”
“My own flesh and blood disowned me because they claimed to love me until I said I wanted to be a pilot. And it’s not just that. They used love to fat shame me, career shame me, justify their remarks and blame me for not submitting to their will. That six-letter F-word means nothing to me.”
“I hear ya, and I know exactly what you’re sayin.“
She then reaches her hand out but quickly retracts.
“Ye’ve been a very dear friend of the family ever since we met. I understand if you have reservations about who you call family. I don’t blame you for that, but please understand that, especially with Applejack and I, you have family here, and family means that no apple gets left behind.”