//------------------------------// // Memories // Story: Short Hand // by Andrew Joshua Talon //------------------------------// Short Hand A My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfic By Andrew J. Talon Disclaimer: This is a non-profit fan based parody. MLP:FiM is the property of Hasbro and Lauren Faust. Please support the official release. - - - Yeah, I know the Mike Rowe speech. "Take your passion to work with you" and all that. Also "don't get a useless degree". In either case though, it probably wouldn't have mattered much once you've been tossed into an alternate universe ruled by talking, magic ponies. Now I know what you're thinking. "Shepherd, you handsome fool! What good would you be in a world where the farm animals are sapient and have magic? And all you have is a liberal arts degree! You'd be a useless monkey!" And that is what I thought at first. But it turns out we humans do still have brains in our heads that can give us an edge when needed. I lifted a slightly modified rake up to the apple tree, and slid the vanes into the bushels of apples with care. I then twisted the rake in my hands, and lowered the rake. I then presented the rake full of apples to Big Macintosh, who studied the results. "And there you have it," I said with a smile, "several unbruised apples, properly picked." Big Macintosh nodded. "Eeyup," he confirmed. "Slower going though." I nodded. "True," I admitted, "but it would let you harvest apples without bruising them. And with enough hired help from unicorns and pegasi, you could get a lot more harvested without just relying on bucking!" The big stallion chewed on his ever present stalk of hay, and nodded. "Eeyup," he said, though it was very positive. I grinned and rubbed the back of my head. "Thanks. Though uh, I think Smithy in the village can make a better version of it than some twisted up rake," I admitted, tilting my makeshift apple picker and letting them tumble down into the barrel. The sun was high in the sky, but frankly I didn't mind. The temperate was mild, and a light breeze kept me nice and cool. Little Applebloom was bucking trees nearby, since it was the weekend. She was getting pretty good at it, filling up barrels with only a few hard kicks to the tree trunks. I frowned thoughtfully. "Hey, uh, where's Applejack?" I asked. "I didn't see her this morning when I first got here. Is she okay?" Big Macintosh was silent for a time. He just stared at me, like a stoic piece of red sandstone carved into the likeness of a stallion. He then looked thoughtful for a moment, studying me with keen eyes. I fidgeted slightly under the intensity of the gaze, but didn't say anything else. "You ever lose anyone, Shepherd?" He asked at last. I blinked a few times, and then slowly nodded. "Yeah. My mom when I was eight," I admitted softly. Over the years, it'd become kind of natural to just say it. In as few words as possible, so that I could move on from the subject. It was a lot less uncomfortable for everyone involved. Especially me. Big Macintosh nodded knowingly. He threw his head back and gestured with his nose. "North field. By the outer fence," he said. He then turned and got back to work apple bucking, without another word. I blinked a few times, then mentally shrugged and headed north. The orchard had paths that were easy to follow, with one main trail that led north to south almost straight as an arrow. My boots carried me up to the north field, crunching on the well worn dirt as birds chirped and tittered above me. It didn't take too long to spot a hint of orange through the apple trees, in front of a tall, white picket fence. As I got closer, my eyes resolved it into Applejack before I dipped back down behind a hill. I walked back up it, and there she was, silently sitting in front of two gray stones. Grave stones, surrounded by purple lilacs that grew through the fence and surrounded them almost protectively. The orange mare didn't react to my presence. She just lifted a bottle of whiskey up to her lips, drank of it, and set it back down. I hesitated for a long moment. What right did I have to interrupt this private moment? Hell, why had Big Macintosh even sent me up here? I should just go. Her ears perked up under her hat, and she looked at me. Her expression was surprised, but then became calm. Almost neutral. I kept my own face neutral, as best I could. "Applejack," I greeted softly. She nodded back to me. "Shepherd," she replied. She turned back to the stones, saying nothing else. I made up my mind, and walked down to stand next to her. I stood there, silently, and read the names on the grave stones. BRIGHT MACINTOSH APPLE BUTTERCUP APPLE With some dates and words of endearment carved into the stone. My hands were in my pockets, as I stood there quietly. I reached up and took off my own straw hat, putting it over my chest. Hey, it's a sign of respect, you savage. Applejack looked up at me, and then back at the graves. I sat down next to her, and scooted up just a bit when she didn't react. I watched her stony expression for a time, before looking back at the headstones. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. Applejack shook her head slowly. "Ain't nothing t' be sorry fer," she said. "Ain't yer fault." I took a deep breath. "... It's funny," I said, "after... Being in this situation, you'd think I'd know what to say. But I don't." Applejack looked at me, her keen green eyes probing me. She nodded. "Yeah... ah uh," she hesitated, "ah saw. When we were all in yer head. About yer ma." I winced a bit, but waved away any attempts at an apology with my hand. She nodded at that. "It's okay," I said. I looked back at the graves. Applejack took a breath, opened her mouth, closed it again... Then sighed and took another sip of her whiskey. "One night, there was a commotion up in the north fields, where we used to keep the sheep," Applejack began, "Applebloom had jest been born a few weeks ago, so nopony was gettin' much sleep. Mah Pa headed out first to see what was goin' on, and Ma went on after. Told us to stay put, but we didn't listen. We got up Granny and got whatever we could find to fight with." She stopped for a moment, still as stone, before she continued. "We met the sheep on the way. They were all hooting and hollering, terrified. It slowed down Granny and Mac, but ah got through. Ah got up here before Granny and Mac..." She trailed off for a moment, before she continued slowly. Her voice thick. "It was some monster. Outta Everfree. Huge. Bigger n' meaner than anything ah'd ever seen." She stopped again. "Underneath its claws... There they were. Ma and Pa, both not movin'. The thing was scared by all the noise the rest o' us was making, yowling and roarin'. It ran off jest as Granny and Mac got there. We checked on them but..." She took another long pull of her whiskey, and set it back down on the dirt. Her eyes were staring into nothing. "The local Jaegers... Monster hunters n' trackers," she explained at my confused look, "went out, and found it dead a few days later. Turns out it was hurt, from fightin' something else. Wasn't able to hunt its usual food. It was after our sheep, cause it was starvin'. Desperate. That's why it..." Applejack took another deep, calming breath. She fell silent. My lips were a thin line. "And jest lahk that... They were gone," she said. "Big Mac, he comes here on the day o' the funeral. Me?" Her silence filled in the gaps. I nodded slowly. Well... I didn't know what to say. So instead, I did what I needed when this mood came upon me. When I was brooding. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and held her. She tensed just a bit, then relaxed. She leaned against me, her head resting against my chest. She looked down at the bottle of whiskey, and took it up in her hooves. She offered it to me. I gave her a warm, small smile, and sipped from it. She took it back and sipped as well, resuming her vigil. I tightened my hug just a little, and she sighed as she nestled into my warmth. She relaxed, looking far less tense than she had from the moment I got here. And I in turn relaxed a lot more. Sometimes? There wasn't anything to say. And that was all right. - - -