//------------------------------// // 9 // Story: The Truth // by Jet Cannon //------------------------------// Nineteen years previously… Applejack awoke in her little apple wood-framed bed, much as she did every morning, and yawned contentedly as she snuggled under her covers, pulling the deliciously warm blanket over her head to keep out the sunlight. And then she remembered what was special about that morning. “Yeehaw!” the young filly cried as she leaped from her bed, snuggly covers forgotten as her little hooves clattered excitedly to her father’s room. “Daddy! Daddy! Wake up! Wake up!” she cried, bouncing on the end of her father’s bed as the poor stallion groggily opened his eyes to look upon his tormentor, and then at the small clock on his bedside table. Redstreak pushed a few strands of his dark blonde mane away from his face and groaned sleepily, before adding in a yawn for good measure. “Applejack, sweetheart, ain’t ya heard of a ‘lie in’?” “But Daddy, it’s mah birthday! It’s mah birthday! Ah’m five now! Ah’m five!” she protested, no less energetically than before, and her adorable green eyes bored straight into her father’s soul, leaving him in no fit state to protest against his lack of sleep. Especially not with such a valid reason exciting her. Redstreak slowly smiled as he yawned once more, and then he sat up on his bed and opened his forelegs invitingly. “Well then, Ah suppose Ah’d better give ya a big ol’ birthday hug, hadn’t Ah?” Applejack needed no further encouragement, bouncing forward enthusiastically and throwing herself against her father’s huge red chest, clinging on tightly as his promised hug enveloped her. “Happy birthday, AJ. Ah love you very much.” “Ah love you too, Daddy.” The two stayed like that for around a minute or two, and Applejack was so caught up in the contact that she even forgot about the presents that would be waiting for her downstairs. Soon enough the steady rhythm of Redstreak’s heartbeat beneath her ear lulled the filly into a snooze, her early start catching up with her and cancelling out any youthful exuberance she may have been feeling before. For about one minute further. “Daddy! Presents!” she cried out, suddenly completely awake again and startling Redstreak. “Yeah, yeah, alright…” he chuckled upon regaining control of his breathing, and he carefully lowered his daughter down as her hooves flailed wildly beneath her, trying to gallop towards the stairs before she was even on the floor. Applejack was down the wooden stairs faster than was likely safe, but their small farmhouse had the benefit of semi-landings every few steps, specifically built as such by the previous owner with the intention of preventing lengthy falls by little foals. And so Applejack reached the bottom with minimal incident, and began hopping up and down even more excitedly than before outside the sitting room door. Her presents were mere feet away, and she could hardly wait for her father to descend the stairs behind her, but it was necessary that he be in attendance from the beginning. It was, after all, how things were done: Redstreak had to open the door, Redstreak had to go in first to check that no fairies or the like had come in to steal anything away, Redstreak then had to allow Applejack entry and set her down beside the little pile of presents, and finally Redstreak had to help his daughter with any wrapping that was too challenging even for her eager hooves and teeth. And take photographs, of course. “Lookit the camera, sugar cube!” She happily complied, showing off a new doll with the glee that only a small child can, and Redstreak grinned as he clicked away, making sure to capture a suitable pose with each little present. Redstreak was always somewhat worried when it came to important times in his daughter’s life; times like birthdays and Hearth’s Warming, when many of the other little colts and fillies her age would be getting all manner of shiny new toys and nice clothes. Whilst she would, at best, only be getting fairly inexpensive gifts, most of these being simple and homemade. He knew that it would be folly to splash his bits on frivolous trinkets when his small orchard was struggling like it was, but he knew the way classrooms could be and the ways poorer foals could be picked on for the fact, having been a victim of such attacks himself in his day. But any doubts he had would always be assuaged by the pure, innocent joy on Applejack’s face on seeing any form of gift, no matter how humble. It was as much the sharing of the moment with her father that made the filly happy as the actual presents did themselves. Applejack loved her Daddy very much. He was the best Daddy in the whole world. He was big and strong and kind and he smelled of apples and apples were the best fruit in the world so that meant he smelled the best as well− “Applejack, sweetie?” Her train of thought was interrupted by Redstreak’s voice as he started to clear away some of the hastily ripped-off wrapping paper, and she peered out from beneath the tip of Redstreak’s Stetson (which she was wearing because she was the birthday girl. That was today’s reason, anyway). “Ah was thinkin’, as it ain’t a school day or nothin’, we could maybe go’n visit yer Granny Smith today. How’s that sound?” This did indeed sound like a good idea. She loved her Granny very much as well, and the old mare made the tastiest apple pies ever! Oh! And maybe she might let Applejack run around the orchard some! She was sure to be able to buck some apples from the trees this time! It wasn’t long before they were on their way, although their departure was initially somewhat slowed by Applejack bouncing excitedly around her father’s hooves as he tried to prepare for the outing. Their small cart trundled along behind Redstreak, with Applejack perched on top of it for the duration of the trip. He kept her amused during the hour’s journey with all manner of silly stories and jokes, and in what felt like no time at all they had arrived at the expansive Sweet Apple Acres, home to generations of the Apple family for almost a century. One mare in particular had lived there for most of her extensive life. “Hello Redstreak! Hello, l’il Applejack! Happy birthday, dearie!” Granny Smith stood just inside the farmhouse door, shielding her eyes from the bright midday sunshine for a moment before going out to meet them both. She lifted Applejack from the cart and spun around with her several times, much to the filly’s squealing delight. “Now listen, sugar cube, me’n yer daddy’r just gonna go put by this here cart. Why dontcha go’n play around the trees just now? There should be a surprise close by if you look careful enough!” The filly needed no further encouragement, and bounded off towards the nearest clump of apple trees. It didn’t take long for her to find something strange there, and the discovery certainly was very surprising. She crashed into a young colt who was unexpectedly standing behind a tree. Face first into his side. His bright red side. Ouch.