With contacts exchanged, I figured I’d give Mom a chance to rest before we moved from the past to the present, to Haze and Dash.
I’d finally had my own weights lifted, even if I still felt uncomfortable about it all, but that could be dealt with over time. So long as she was willing, I’d make her a part of my life again, and maybe I’d try to get on better terms with Dad, too. If her account is even mostly true, he had no part in it other than being himself, which may have made things worse, honestly. For every screaming match I’ve had with Mom over the years, I’ve never had one with Dad. Soft-spoken, willing to go along with anything, having no strong feelings one way or another.
I’ll have to get the story about him being in the academy one day. I’ve met Sweet Wing’s parents, but not his. My grandparents, that is. Solid maybe on them being alive. Both sides, for that matter, but I don’t know if I really want to go about getting involved with the Snows. The Dark Canter thing I need to discuss with Discord aside, I really don’t need that toxic ideology in anypony’s head, especially not Haze. He’s so disillusioned right now, he’d be willing to believe it.
So, the next morning, Mom took a taxi service over to the house. She does have a car in her jungle, but it doesn’t run right now, and it hasn’t run in several months. I made a promise to go look at it one day or maybe call Cheese out there to check on it. Goddess knows the dude is a mechanic on par with the best of them, but for now, this would serve.
She arrived at the house at 9 AM, and Prism was ecstatic to open the door for her. “Hi, Granny! Welcome to the house!”
Gingerly, she rubbed at her forehead as she walked inside. “Prism, please, inside voices.” Of course she’s hung over. Car fixed or not, she wouldn’t have been able to get here on her own.
“Oh, sure.” He followed her to the couch and I brought her a coffee from the kitchen.
“Morning, Mom.”
Her ears twitched. Slowly, she turned to me, looking me over. I was no different than I had been yesterday, but I could still feel the unease between us. This was going to be new, this was going to be slow, and this would be fraught with growing pains.
Carefully, she took the coffee. “Morning, Soarin.” She looked at the cup, then frowned at the black liquid. “Cream and sugar anywhere?”
“On the table. I’m almost done, anyways. Come on, Prism.”
We migrated that way, and once everypony was served, sat and graced, we dug into the food. She seemed happy enough with the usual family breakfast, and with that out of the way, we got right down to business.
“I take it the fighters aren’t in the house at present?”
I shook my head. “I believed they needed some separation. More or less to give me some space to figure out a way to solve all this, but also to give Haze some breathing room without having to worry about his mother bothering him. It’s really something to see her fret over the boy.”
Prism nodded in agreement. “It’s kinda surreal. Mom expects, like, Wonderbolt-level stunts from me on a daily basis, but the moment Haze is in any kind of danger at all, she’s got to be at his side 24/7 to keep him from it. She’s been like that for as long as I can remember.”
She rubbed at her chin, a deep thoughtful frown on her jowly face. “I’ve got Prism’s account of the story, but this sounds more severe than what he told me. Soarin, explain to me in detail what all happened here.”
I got up, refilled my coffee, and then went to work. From when I met her and the kind of pony she was, all her friends and who they became, all the way up to Haze and the fall and how we made it out of that. Also, a warning to keep the Dark Canter thing to herself: we are very well-connected.
She was silent for a long time. She finished and refilled a third cup, though she drinks more cream and sugar than coffee. “I… can see where she’s coming from,” Mom finally said after a while.
Prism frowned, setting his empty fork down. “Can you?”
“I can.” She let her eyes drift as she put her hooves in her lap, tracing the line of syrup at the edge of our ceramic white plates. A dark stain on an otherwise unblemished pure circle. “Like I told you yesterday, you just can’t understand how it feels to lose a foal. It’s not in your body to do so. The utter despair, the tormenting thoughts, the endless ‘what ifs’ that plague you… there was nothing you could’ve done right to make it any better, but all the same, you feel personally responsible for the loss of that life.
“Given another chance, of course you’d do all in your power to keep the one who lives in the best health he can have. Pile a scare like the fall your brother went through on top and your Mother must be quite traumatized from hoof to withers. You were never the one in danger, and nothing thus far has put you near it; if anything, since you seem to be so excellent, you’re the least of her worries. A fool’s errand that is, too, because, Goddess forbid, if something were to happen to you…”
Mom rubbed at her temples, turning to me. “It seems to me that this is something your wife is just going to have to get over. If she’s so often driven to extremes, then it’s more the result of her personality and the trauma than just the trauma. She’s not going to change overnight.”
I sighed. I don’t know why I expected her to have the answer. I knew that from the get-go, but… “I know that, Mom, I just… that’s the rub, isn’t it? I don’t know what I could do to help her get over the trauma after all these years, but this is just… how she is. I sprained my wing once before the kids were born, and she wouldn’t leave me for a whole week! I love that she’s so devoted to us, but at the same time, she just doesn’t get boundaries.”
She sipped and swirled around more coffee while she thought. Maybe she was more right than I liked to imagine. Here I am, married for a decade and a half, with two kids half-grown, and I’m desperately hoping Mom can come to my rescue. Thirty-nine or nineteen, Soarin?
“Can I meet this Haze of yours?”
Huh. Not where I thought she’d go with this. “I suppose. He’s staying with the Apples right now for harvest season, so I’m sure he’s been at work all morning by now. Any particular reason why?”
Licking her lips, she nodded. “When you were nineteen, you went down with a sprained wing during that show in Canterlot.”
Geez, she went all the way to Canterlot to see me? She must’ve gotten better at hiding in a crowd by then. “I did.”
“Shame as it is to say it, I was horrified. I practically ran along with the medical crew to see you there. Followed them all the way to the hospital. You were out cold and they were taking care of you, but… it was like needles stabbing my heart. I had to know, I had to see you recover, I had to be sure you’d fly again.
“It was just a sprain, of course, and the most dangerous part, falling, had already been over. All you needed was a week or two off, and you’d be back in the circuit. Still, that didn’t make me feel any better. No, I followed you all the way to the hospital until I got to the room where they’d put you after the x-rays were taken.”
She swallowed. “Hang and Sweet were there.
“I felt like such a fool. Push you away at every turn, didn’t even tell you I’d be at the show, and here I was, running and fretting after you like I hadn’t abandoned you, to secure your career. Instinct and fear had taken over; all I could think was, ‘my baby!’ And of course, the other ponies who felt that way, the ones who actually raised you, had beaten me there.
“I had no resolve, no willpower. If that was all it took to turn everything back on, I just needed to stay away. Those ties were cut; they couldn’t be mended. I didn’t have the right to fret over you anymore. So, I stopped coming to out-of-town shows. Nothing could keep me away when you were so nearby, so when eventually, you retired from performing, I was satisfied with that.”
Clasping her hooves together, she looked me right in the eyes, the mother I remember from all those years ago back in my life once again. “You can’t turn it off: that’s what I learned that day. You’re fighting nature, and reality will come and assert itself on you. You will always lose to nature. This Rainbow Dash of yours is going to keep worrying and losing sleep over her sons till the day she dies. If Prism ever hurts himself, I’m sure he’ll understand how his brother feels real quick. And all this is fine… so long as she can learn to let go.
“Now that she’s taken it too far, you’re going to have to band together and make her learn to let go. And before you can accomplish that, Haze needs to understand this too. He’s too familiar with you and your love for your wife to think you understand. You couldn’t; you’re just ‘Dad.’ But… some old mare he’s never met?” She raised a brow, knowingly. “He might be a bit more willing to listen.”
I had to stop and stare at this old mare.
She made every single wrong choice to get what she thought was right done and took it all upon herself to bear. They would’ve accepted her if she’d been too taken over by concern to keep away. You just had to keep running away, didn’t you?
But now that you’ve already made all the wrong decisions, it’s made you wise.
I let out a final breath. “I’ll let Fin know we’re coming by. Prism, go get the car ready.” I turned to go get my phone from my room, but then I stopped.
I’d forgotten a word. With newfound respect in my heart, it finally dawned on me that, yes, this is indeed the mother I’d been missing after all this time. You’re finally back home.
“Thanks, Mom.”
We had to wait a bit after we arrived at Sweet Apple Acres, or District 2, since the teams were still working on the orchard. Takes us about twenty minutes to get to the front gates, but since it was nearly eleven and time for their lunch break anyways, we weren’t bothered much. Fin himself was on duty right now, but the head mare wasn’t running things, on account of her brother coming by to help out for the week with his own family.
Of course, that didn’t mean she wasn’t working. Instead of overseeing the operation, she was hard at work making lunches for the crew with her daughters, her younger sister, and Sugarbelle. Since there were about fifty ponies working here today, she’s been at it all morning, and was only now taking a break to see us. Applejack had invited us into the mess hall at the heart of the orchard, further away from the main house, where we met up in an office separated from the main cafeteria with her daughters.
This room had a large wooden table and enough chairs to seat around twenty-four ponies, for business meetings and meals too big for the main house. Further back, there was a desk, computer, file cabinets, and big covered windows to let the light in. Not anything fancy, but that homey feel which permeated everywhere in this orchard was here too.
“So… you’re one of them Snows Ah’ve heard about, huh?” Applejack asked, a brow raised in the way her family does.
In spite of being cast out, Mom was still pretty proud of her heritage. “I am. Don’t hold their views, clearly, but I appreciate the legacy. Y’all Apples have got one yourself.”
Applejack stroked her chin. “Well, things have been fairly different since my dear old Granny departed this world. Her parents’ generation were the last ones to really hold similar ideas in their heads, but Ah know the stories. Either way, Dash is one of my best friends, so Ah’m not about ta make any statements on this or that. Ah’m Applejack, this is my orchard Sweet Apple Acres, and we’re happy ta have ya.”
Approving of that, Mom took the outstretched hoof. “Glad ta be here. Lived in Ponyville for thirty years now. Hard to believe that this is the same old orchard that I used to pass on my commutes every day.”
At this, Applejack frowned. “Thirty years? How in the world…”
Mom broke and shook her head. “I kept to myself for the most part. Moved up north from the first district at the end of the buyout and haven’t worked a day since.”
Slowly, Applejack nodded. I could tell she wanted to ask more questions, but she let it go. If she didn’t get it out of me by the end of the week, Fin would on her behalf. “Well, these are my girls, Gin and Craft. They helped my sisters and Ah make the lunches today. Introduce yourselves, y’all.”
The older of the two was a leafy coated mare with her father’s orange eyes and a two-tone red-white mane that gave her a very festive look no matter the season. As stated previously, this was Fallacy’s amour, unbeknownst to her. “Howdy, y’all! Ah’m Apple Gin, but Gin is fine ta keep things from gettin’ confusin’. Ask fer an apple around here and you’ll get thirty ponies wonderin’ if ya mean them or need a fruit. Ah made the pies today, so Ah hope y’all enjoy ‘em.”
To make full use of the pun, this sweet young mare was the apple of many a young stallion’s eye. You hear a bit of locker room drivel among boys, and her name comes up a lot. She’s got the full Apple mare body which even I was struck by the first time I saw it at a Gala back in my youth. She’ll be fighting the stallions off when she’s full-grown.
“And Ah’m Craft Apple, but Craft fer short. We’ve got a whole bunch of cider and punch and just about everythin’ ya can think of ta drink here, so don’t be afraid ta ask. Ah’m helpin’ serve today, so Ah’ll come if ya call.”
And then trots in the head mare incarnate. Like her sister and father, she too has the green coat, but with an orange mane and the family green eyes. She could only be more of her mother’s daughter if she dyed her coat and mane. Stubborn, strong-willed, quicker to put up a front than share her feelings, tenacious, and above all, intuitive. Of the main family Apples, she and the twins are the ones I know best because I had them in my classes, her being in my current class. I don’t know how her own fraternal twin brother, Draft, didn’t end up in class with me this year too, but maybe that was a result of keeping Cider and Stout together so long.
The identical twins share a brain half the time, and they too are good friends of Fallacy and Cotton, which is never a good thing. Worse still, there’s a lot of finagling done at PCA to make sure those four are never together on any occasion we can afford as they’re all the same age. War, Famine, Pestilence and Death: mischief incarnate.
“Nice ta meet y’all.” Mom shook hooves with the girls, then the head mare shooed them away to set the cafeteria up for the workers.
When Applejack returned, it was down to business. “So, what’s goin’ on here, exactly? Haze’s been in a real shit mood since he got here and nothin’ anypony does seems ta make it better. Where is Dash, anyways? She’s usually more bothersome when Haze is here…”
“About that…” And so, I filled Applejack in. She already knows about the fall, but the recent drama is a fairly new development, and if I know Dash, she hasn’t said a thing to a soul about Haze fighting with her. What I wasn’t prepared to fill her in about was my own mother, so she took that upon herself.
Applejack was more upset with Mom than she was with Dash. “And, what, ya just up and abandoned everythin’ ta make sure he could fly? Ya gotta know what that does ta a foal, don’t cha’? It’s a damn miracle Soarin’ is a functionin’ adult now. Goddess knows how that happened. Always thought he was a little awkward and a little slow ta warm up around ponies, no wonder. Goddess.”
Ouch.
“Yes, yes, we went over this and all the wounds it brought with it yesterday. Found out he had kids yesterday too, for that matter.”
Now, the wrath was directed my way. “You didn’t tell yer own mother about yer family!? Goddess, even if she ain’t been treatin’ ya right, ya only get one of those! What’d’ve happened if she died before ya said anythin’? Can ya imagine how crushin’ the regret is when ya leave things like that unsaid? Think ya were miserable before; if ya never got it out, it’d be a whole new level.”
Double ouch. “Well, when you put it like that…”
Applejack growled in frustration. “Course, ‘when ya put it like that,’ he says. Ah swear, none of y’all ponies realize how fragile this thing we call life is. Dash is out of her damn mind, but at least she’s got part of it right. Goddess knows Ah’d’ve killed myself ages ago if Fin hadn’t been around. Blonde leadin’ the blind, alright.”
Uh… Prism doesn’t know that story. Neither does Mom.
“You… what?” Prism asked, immediately picking up on it.
Frowning, she sent an eye at me. “Think he’s old enough for that story? Yer whole family seems ta be caught up in this shit. Might as well take a life lesson ta heart before things get worse.”
Is he? Hell, if she’s willing to talk about it, I might as well get Haze in here to hear it too. That’s a cautionary tale if there ever was one.
I licked my lips. “Maybe another time. Dash doesn’t even know that one. All three of them should hear it if you’re going to tell it. It’s, uh… fairly relevant now that I think about it.”
Sitting down and crossing her forelegs, Applejack nodded. “So another time it is. Ah’ll trust y’all ta keep that ta yerselves. Ah tell the kids when they’re about thirteen, but Draft and Craft don’t know yet. Ah worry about the filly more than most of ‘em, ya know. She’s just like me; most capable of doin’ the same stupid shit Ah did as a teen, let me tell ya.”
She checked a watch on her wrist, then looked to the door. “They should all be here in a minute now. What’s yer plan?”
Mom put her hoof forward. “First step is to talk to Haze myself. Tell him about what I’ve been through, what I did to Soarin, explain what his mother is feeling. We’ll leave the exact details aside since his mother needs to give him those, but after that, we’ll have him talk to this Rainbow Dash of yours and finally put it out in the open why she’s so crazy around the boy. Doubt it’ll solve everything, but from what I hear, getting her to tell him the story is to be the hard part.”
Applejack snorted. “Ain’t that the truth. But Ah can only imagine so many things Dash wouldn’t do fer her boys. Sounds like it’ll work ta me.”
The rumbling of hooves filled the office as the workers filed into the mess hall. In all colors of the rainbow, Apples trotted in jolly and exhausted, making tired jokes and lazy movements while conversing with their friends among the herd. Haze was near the middle with the golden boys, Peel and his younger brother, Aurum; Mac’s kids, the programmer and the sharp shooter Oxford and Liberty; the identical twin tricksters Stout and Cider, Draft the young male twin; and even the older boys, Malus and Whiskey. Poor guy was the smallest of the herd, which wasn’t all that surprising considering he was in the center of every main family Apple of the new generation.
I was mostly surprised to see the older boys in there with them. Usually, if Applejack isn’t running things, Whiskey is, and Malus is Whiskey’s right hoof stallion. She must’ve given special instruction to watch over him, which is nice of her.
Ah, Haze.
He’s trying his hardest to smile and be amiable with the best of them, but he’s clearly faking it. Wearing a mask, hiding behind his acting skill, trying his best to keep up the persona.
Stalking up to the office door, Applejack clicked her tongue. “See what Ah mean? He’s doin’ the same shit Peel does when he’s in a bad mood. All pretense and no truth. Like mother, like son.”
She then whistled, which put the whole cafeteria at parade rest in an instant. That’s sort of expected of the Apples, but even then, other ponies who were here for work or to be with their friends followed suit.
“Son, bring Haze ta the office when y’all get yer grub.”
Knowing who he was, Whiskey gave an affirmative, “Yes ma’am,” then the line went back at ease.
Spotting me, Haze furrowed his brows and frowned. We held eye contact for a moment, him showing nothing but confusion, but he was quickly taken back to the line when Peel pushed him forward.
A little while later, Whiskey and Haze entered the office with Sugarbelle, carrying trays for the four of us in her magic. We set up shop toward the end of the room by the desk, and Sugarbelle took her exit to go eat with her husband.
The moment she was gone, Haze asked, “So… what’s all this about, then? And, excuse my rudeness, but who are you?”
I was sitting at the end of the table beside Applejack and Mom, and Haze was separated from Mom by Prism. He’d been glancing between the three of us the whole time, no doubt wondering why this random old mare looked so much like us.
Smiling, Mom put a hoof behind Prism’s chair to shake. “Hey there, kiddo, I’m your Grandma.”
He was so utterly lost. Still, he had the courtesy to shake. “Uh… you are?” He looked to his brother for help.
Salivating at the spread in front of him, Prism was too busy employing all of his restraint to answer. Instead, I did: “This is my mother, Downy Snow.”
“But—”
“No, she isn’t.”
“But—”
“I know.” Good Goddess, he’s his mother’s son.
“Haze, buddy,” Whiskey interrupted, “Ah’ve got questions too, but why don’t we eat first? We worked hard today. It’s time fer a good meal.”
He sighed, smothering his curiosity. “Okay…”
So, Applejack said grace, we ate, and now it was time for questions. Course, Prism was practically in a food coma by now and simply said, “I’m coming next time if this is what you guys eat every day.”
Applejack chuckled. “Feel free, Sugarcube. We can always use a pair of extra hooves, though ya might find the work’s a bit harder than ya think.”
I put a hoof on his shoulder. “Look, Prism, I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for. You can come, but… oh Goddess, just don’t hurt yourself. You think watching Dash freak out over Haze is bad? Wait till it’s your turn.”
Haze’s ears shot up, and with wide eyes, he scanned the room. “She’s not here, is she!?”
“No, no. She’s still in Cloudsdale.”
Haze relaxed. “Oh, thank the Goddess…”
Despite only being nineteen, Whiskey had a full beard and mustache. This, compounded with his father’s white mane, made him look older than I did. Rubbing at said beard, he narrowed his eyes at Haze. “What, is that why you’ve been bitchin’ and moanin’ these past couple days?”
Haze groaned at the young stallion. “Oh, stuff it! You don’t understand how crazy she is! Sure, I get a break now, but once the week is over…”
Lowering his brows and frowning hard, Whiskey sent a glance to his mother, who nodded her approval. “Buddy, Ah know plenty about how crazy moms can get. Mine thinks she’s slick, but Ah always catch her when she’s tryin’ ta spy on me. Can’t take a mare nowhere without a tail, Ah tell ya what. As if Ah’m dumb enough ta pull the same shit Pa and uncle Mac did and get some filly knocked up.”
That snapped Prism out of his coma. Together, he and Haze said, “Huh?”
The young stallion ran his tongue across his teeth. “Mm-hmm. Ya might know about Malus, but Ah’m the result of my parent’s little affair. We Apples got ourselves a depressive streak too, so Ma thought it was better ta kill herself than get found out. Pretty damn lucky Pa got a taste fer apples after the first time.”
Again, in unison, “Dude.”
Nodding, Whiskey knocked on the table. “Ah know a thing or two.” Then, raising a brow, he glanced at Mom and me. “So, why don’t we get explanations out in the air, hmm?”
Speaking of like mother, like son…
Omitting the story surrounding Haze’s conception, Mom and I explained the situation at hoof—our relationship, and how we came to be here. At most, we explained that Dash has a reason for being as crazy as she is, and it’s related to a miscarriage before Haze, but something else happened that pushed her over the edge.
Haze was unhappy with the omission. “Well, what happened?”
“Ah think that’s a story fer Dash ta tell, Haze,” Applejack said.
More or less getting where we were going with this, the color drained out of Haze’s face. “You…” He swallowed. “You want me to ask her?”
Mom softly put a hoof on his shoulder. “I think it would do her some good, kiddo. She’s got scars over you. Real bad ones. When what happened to her happens to a mare, it tears her up inside. Tack on more trauma and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.”
“But!” He was at a loss for words. He struggled for a moment, but eventually found them again. “What if she won’t tell me? I can’t deal with her being crazy for the rest of my life!”
Applejack and Mom laughed. “Hate to break it to you kiddo, but no matter what happens, she’ll always be crazy.”
And Applejack agreed. “Oh, yeah. Unfortunately fer y’all, even before the… incident, Dash was inclined ta worry about things. When she was a teenager, she had this pet tortoise, and we had ta move heaven and earth ta convince her that he was hibernatin’ fer winter and not dyin’ her first year with him. She still holed herself up fer a week ta ‘mourn’ the poor thing.”
Prism was incredulous. “Oh, come on, Mom can’t be that bad. Wouldn’t we still have it if it was a tortoise? Those things live longer than ponies do most of the time.”
I coughed into my hoof. “You ever wonder why we always go see the turtles every time we visit the zoo?”
The boys frowned. “Uh, because Mom likes turtles?”
“Generally, no. She doesn’t care for reptiles as a whole. But the really big tortoise at Ponyville Zoo? That’s Tank.”
Haze deadpanned. “You cannot be serious.”
I threw my hooves up. “He got too big! We couldn’t keep a four-foot turtle in the house with foals! Why do you think we brought a cake last time we went?”
The boys were trying their hardest to compute this, but Applejack vouched for me. “Oh, it was one hell of a day when Shy had ta come take him off with her. See, she was pregnant with Prism at the time, and as sweet as the old boy was, she was afraid of him getting all territorial when the baby came, since tortoises are known ta do that around other males.”
I shrugged. “For the record, Tank never liked me, and I never liked Tank. In his defense, I was taking his mare away from him, but… you know, he’s a tortoise. He still gives me dirty looks when we go to the zoo.” Damn turtle. I had to get my own helmet to keep him from bashing my head in when we took him flying, staring at me with those accusing reptilian eyes in the middle of the night right after we got married. Damn turtle.
“Come on! Can’t she be normal about anything? Why do I have to ask her? If this is just Mom being Mom, what am I to do? Things are just going to go back to the way they were and I’ll end up yelling at her again!” Sighing, Haze pushed his tray away and buried his head under his hooves. “I don’t want to yell at her again…”
Reaching over the table, Whiskey patted Haze’s head. You just gotta wonder how somepony this massive came out of Applejack. I wouldn’t call her small, but Whiskey, Malus and Mac are just giants. I can only imagine how Fin feels.
“It’s alright, buddy. Last time won’t be the last time ya yell at yer Ma. My Ma yells at everypony. Just gotta get used ta yellin’ back.”
Applejack concurred. “Honestly, Ah have ta wonder if Ah’ve wasted more breath on Dash or Rarity at this point.”
I snorted. “I mean, it has to be—” Then I stopped. Is that right? At least up until two years ago, Pearl was everypony’s extra daughter, but she ended up here more often than not. Dash comes here when she needs to talk and won’t talk to me first or won’t listen to me first; discounting Haze visits and visits just to bother Applejack, she always leaves with an earful. But does Rarity ever get off without an earful when she comes by? It’s almost always to pick up Pearl, too. “Actually, that’s probably a Twilight question.”
The head mare laughed. “Ah’ll have ta get her ta do the math this Sunday. Probably take her head away from that uh…” She cut her self short, coughing into her hoof. “Ah’ll let ya know when she gets it sorted out.”
Right.
Re: Twilight's Mess—
Twilight has made a mess for herself to sort out, and she is easily the least capable pony to sort a mess like that out. For the longest time, she's been romantically involved with two of her royal guards who've stayed well beyond their normal terms. Even Dash told her years ago that what she was doing wasn’t fair. Now, things are getting close to a peak on that front, and it doesn't look like either guard is going to stop at just beating the other. I don’t envy her, but just like everything Dash does, this is entirely her own fault.
“As in, Princess Twilight?” Mom interjected.
“Yes, ma’am,” Applejack nodded, “though Dash and Ah knew her before that whole princess thing. Been through a lot with that gal.”
Mom patted my back. “You did well, son.”
This time, I think she meant it. As opposed to being angry and spiteful, this was her really approving of where I ended up in life. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good.
Prism looked to his brother, and they both looked at me. “I… don’t know how to interpret this exchange of words,” Haze said, for the both of them.
Burying the butterflies, I waved them away. “You wouldn’t get it, it’s fine.” Taking a deep breath, I ran my hoof through my mane. “So, what’s the deal? Have you resigned yourself to your fate yet or what?”
He groaned, returning to the safety beneath his hooves. “Could you have said that any other way? Now I feel like you’re sending me off to my death or something.”
“But, my dear boy, death is lighter than a feather; For death is your finite end in this world, the moment in which you cease to be. To live on, to face the most terrible of monsters like the terror of your mother, is a heavy burden. Atlas, you must bear the world, as it is your duty.”
He clapped a hoof on the table, raising to glare at me. “You dare use my own magic against me, witch!?”
In the most dramatic fashion I could, I threw both hoof and wing out. “Boy, thou speaketh as if I weren’t thine author! Forget not, the stallion thine eyes fall upon be thy very father!”
“Damn you!” Back under his hoof, he smacked the table again and again. “Damn you, damn you, damn you!” Completely covered, Haze settled and groaned like his own chair under an unbearable weight. “I never should’ve given you my book.”
I crossed my hooves, sitting up in triumph. “T’was thine own undoing, dear boy. Well? What have you?”
“I concede! I’ll do it, alright? Just… stop, please! I can’ take it!”
Applejack could only shake her head. “You and Dash deserve each other.”
Aware that I just did that in front of my friend and my mother, I drew back into myself. “Yes, it’s terrible, I know.”
“The weird display aside,” Whiskey began, “what’s yer plan ta get Miss Dash ta actually listen ta the boy? Ah grew up around the mare ‘bout as much as everypony else here did, and Ah think we all know what a task that is.”
Mom tapped the table with a hoof. “It’s not about getting her to listen but getting the idea in her head that she can’t keep this up forever. Perhaps that idea is already there, but if Haze can get her to talk, to open up about what happened, then she’ll think. She won’t turn about face immediately; nopony does. But a gradual change will begin from there. He won’t just be her baby anymore, but…” Her eyes trailed over me. “He’ll be somepony who’s changing before her eyes. Watching him so carefully over the years, still seeing the foal he once was in front of her, she’ll finally blink. The foal will be gone, replaced by a colt. Not the baby she remembers anymore. By the time she learns about this one, she’ll blink again. That’s… just how it goes.”
Smiling sweetly, Applejack wrapped a hoof around her son and leaned against him. “Yes, Ah suppose it is. Sometimes, it’s just hard ta forget those days when ya’d go sit out on the porch in the rain with that little boy who’d always make ya smile. But, so too shall this pass. Time will take the colt, make him a stallion, change the bond that once was forever inta somethin’ else. The memory, however, never deserts ya. It’s so much easier ta give inta worry when… it’s the colt ya see and not the stallion he’s become.”
Whiskey shrugged. “Whatever gets ya ta leave me alone when Ah go on a date.”
She pressed him harder, her brow twitching and the young stallion struggling to breathe against her hoof. “Then again, another reason ta wish they stayed young is because they get smart and forget who’s who.”
“Ah give! Damn!”
Whiskey tapped out, Applejack set him free, and in that instant, I was inspired on how to perfectly lure Dash into telling the story.
“That’s it!”
Haze held a hoof up. “Look, Dad, I’m not letting Mom choke me.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, shut up. I’ve got it. We’re going to put two and two together. Your talent and her weakness. This is how we’ll set it up…”