//------------------------------//
// 10 In the Picture 
// Story: Going with the Grain 
// by Bronyxy 
//------------------------------//

Back to the present day

The evening had been great fun, Applejack feeling part of the family right from the start. She was pestered mercilessly about the Apple family, Ponyville and her adventures as the bearer of an Element of Harmony, let alone her connections to the Princesses. In her turn, when she could get a question of her own in, she learned a few interesting things about the Graham family. Firstly, she found out that Goldie and his younger brother Teddy Bear were the sons of Cinnamon and Honey Graham, and that the old stallion, known as Grandpa, wasn’t actually a Graham at all, but was Honey Graham’s father. Their family name was Chex and he had named his daughter Honey Chex, which had got changed on her marriage.

Whilst Grandpa Chex may have been respected as the family’s figurehead, Applejack quickly worked out that this was an honorary position, as the household was run by Cinnamon Graham, who also controlled the family’s farming business.

Cinnamon Jack, the old stallion whose exploits had raised the question about their families being connected, turned out to have been Cinnamon Graham’s grandfather, who by Applejack’s reckoning would have been about the same age as Granny Smith’s parents.

Although the Graham’s family tree wasn’t as well documented as the Apple’s, it appeared that back in Cinnamon Jack’s day, a Royal decree had been issued, requesting farmers with a spirit of adventure to relocate into the newly created great plains area in the hope that they would be able to provide food for the increasing population. He had accepted the challenge and clearly made a success for himself and his family, but that alone did not prove that the families were linked.

This was where the family history became a little vague. It was known that Cinnamon Jack had been keen on experimenting with growing different crops, because there were newspaper cuttings that documented his having won a number of awards at plant shows for different species, such as tomatoes and potatoes. There was even a very old photograph of him standing beside a giant marrow. Applejack looked at the picture, admiring his handsome features; he bore more than a passing resemblance to Big Mac, but the waxed moustache gave him a very old-fashioned appearance that unfortunately reminded her of that charlatan Flam of the Flim Flam brothers.

It was clear that Cinnamon Jack had been able to turn his hooves to a variety of different crops, but unless it could be shown that his family had descended from apple farming stock, there was no way of positively establishing that this Cinnamon Jack was the same as the one from the Apple family, even if the dates did match up.

The evening had flown by and it was only when Teddy Bear kept rocking his head and eventually fell asleep at the table did they stop to check the time. It was already past one in the morning, and so Honey put her youngest son to bed, then came back down to join the party once more, determined not to miss anything. The conversation flowed with no hint of abating, but finally Cinnamon had to declare that he would be up for work in a few hours, and this acted as the prompt to get everypony to follow suit, even though they didn’t feel tired.

Applejack went to bed feeling a warm familial glow, and just like with the Pie family, decided that it didn’t actually matter whether the ancestry could be traced or not, as far as she was concerned these kind folks were Apples to the core.

Applejack had very little sleep before her body clock kicked in and decided to rouse her in time to do the chores on the farm. She did not want to think how little sleep she had enjoyed and went down into the kitchen where she found Cinnamon making coffee and breakfast.

“Hey cuzzin” he said cheerfully, not betraying his lack of sleep, “I hope you slept well – what you had that is. That’s the trouble with us farming folk; we never can lay in! Come on, share breakfast with me, won’t you?”

He poured out coffee for both of them and continued, “Sorry to have kept you up so late, but we was all really interested in you and your life in Ponyville and all that stuff about old Cinnamon Jack.”

“Ah really enjoyed it all too, cuzzin” agreed Applejack, before realising that her country accent had begun to peep through, now she was so tired.

“I’m sorry to say I’ll have to leave you shortly” said Cinnamon, “Work to do; I’m sure you’ll understand being a farmer yourself.”

“Sure as sugar do” she replied, “A farmer’s work is never done.”

“Amen to that” he replied, shuffling his freshly cooked breakfast onto two plates, one for each of them.

“Oh! Something I should have done last night!” exclaimed Applejack as she ran up to her room. In less than a minute she was back down with her saddlebags.

“Here” she said flipping one of them open, “Take some to keep you goin’ at work today. They was growin’ at Sweet Apple Acres only two … er … three days ago, so they should still be nice and fresh.”

“Thank you kindly” he replied with a broad grin, “That cider last night sure put me in mind of having me a nice juicy apple.”

They tucked into breakfast around the kitchen table, just like Applejack imagined Granny Smith, Big Mac and Apple Bloom were doing right now, so many miles away.

“You know, Cinnamon” said Applejack, “Shucks, you don’t mind me callin’ you Cinnamon do you, Mr Graham?”

He waved aside the unnecessary formality by casually twisting his fork in the air and let her continue.

“Would you mind if I had another look at that picture of ol’ Cinnamon Jack?”

“Surely. It’s in the sideboard over there; I’ll get it soon as we’ve finished” he said, looking at her enquiringly, “You think you’ve got an idea that might help sort out this mystery?”

“Maybe” she said, “But he is a handsome stallion, and I would like to try and bond with him through his picture.”

Cinnamon downed the last of his breakfast then washed and carefully dried his hooves before going to retrieve the old picture. Taking her cue, Applejack stuffed the last of her breakfast into her mouth and washed and dried her hooves too so she would be ready to receive the irreplaceable photograph without doing it any harm.

“You got an eyeglass anywhere around?” she asked.

“You’re on to something, aren’t you?” he replied, an infectious grin spreading across his face, “Nearest thing I can offer is Grandpa’s glasses, but you’d have to ask him nicely.”

“OK, thanks. When does he get up?”

“You’re keen. You know, I’d sure like to know what’s going through your mind right now.”

“Just a hunch” said Applejack pensively.

“He’ll be the last one up” said Cinnamon, “You understand, on account of his age.”

“Sure, I’ll wait” Applejack agreed.

“Well, I’ll be off” said Cinnamon, “Thanks for the apples. I can’t wait to see what you’ve found out when I get back tonight. Bye, cuzzin!”

With that, he waved and left the house, leaving Applejack alone with the picture.

Honey came down a little later to fuss over her guest, keen to find out what attracted Applejack so much about the picture. She explained that she was waiting for Grandpa so as she could ask to use his glasses as there was something she wanted to check.

“Oh, don’t worry about him” Honey reassured, “He won’t mind.”

With that, she left the room and came back a few seconds later waving them around like they were a prize.

“There you go sweetie” she said, passing them over expectantly.

Applejack opened them carefully and slid them on, holding the photograph in one hoof whilst sliding the glasses further up and down her muzzle until she got the detail of the picture in close focus. She rotated the photograph until it was upside down, before putting it down and sliding the glasses off and folding them neatly on the table.

“He was an Apple” she said simply, “Your Cinnamon Jack was an apple farmer at his roots, so he must be the same as the one in our family tree. We are related!”

What do you mean sweetie?” asked Honey with her forehoof on her chest, looking like she might faint at any moment.

“The box” said Applejack in a hushed voice, “Look at the box the marrow’s resting on.”

Honey looked at the photograph as she had hundreds of times before, but saw nothing unusual.

“There’s a label stuck on it” said Applejack, “It’s the wrong way up ‘cos the box is upside down.”

Honey took her father’s glasses and went through the same routine of trying to focus.

“Read out what you see” said Applejack, her excitement building.

“Cinnamon … Jack … Orchards … Canterlot.”

Honey sat down, breathing fast.

“That’s what I thought it said” confirmed Applejack, feeling fully composed and totally vindicated, “The only crops I know grown in an orchard are apples.”

“Then we are related!” shouted Honey as she grabbed Applejack and began dancing a jig in the kitchen, tears of happiness streaming down her muzzle, “We are related!”