Another Sunday had come, which meant another visit from Cirrus and/or Nimbus. This time, I prepared some tea, just in case. Even if they couldn’t stay long to hang about, I could always offer them a quick drink before they had to fly off again. Call it a spirit of determined hospitality, but I wanted to keep up a good impression. Plus, I had my latest essay to hand over.
At around 10, there came the telltale knock at my door. I opened it up, and found only one of the brothers standing before me. He was facing me dead-on, with a solemn look on his face, so I couldn’t even see by his cutie mark which one it was. Before I could even look around to find out, he spoke.
“Greetings, Councilstallion. How are you today?”
I was thrown for a loop. It sounded as though two voices were speaking at once, but coming out of one mouth. They were very similar, but distinct enough to create a jarring effect from speaking at the same time
“Er, fine, thanks,” I said. “Good morning, Cirrus. Or, sorry, is it Nimbus?”
“Neither,” said the stallion, with a straight face.
I stared.
“Come again?” I asked.
“Minister Ironmane has deemed it prudent to combine our talents into one pony,” said the stallion, spreading his wings. “Thus, Cirrus and Nimbus have become one. Two mighty and handsome messengers, united in a single body. I am neither one nor the other, but myself. You may call me...Stratus.”
My mouth had fallen open. This couldn’t be real! A fusion pony? What was this, Dragon Ball?
Before I could voice any further on this absurdity, I heard a snicker, and it didn’t come from ‘Stratus’, as he was still looking serious-faced. Looking out and up, I saw Cirrus, recognizable by his wispy-cloud cutie mark, sitting on my roof, chuckling to himself. With the jig up, Nimbus, for so it could only be, broke out chuckling as well.
“Gotcha!” said Cirrus, fluttering down to join his brother. “You wouldn’t believe how long it took to rehearse our lines and get them in perfect sync.”
“Pretty good, huh, Dave?” asked Nimbus.
The numbness from that little stunt was already evaporating, and I couldn’t help grinning as well.
“Pretty good,” I said. “You guys really got me. For a moment, I thought you two really had become one pony.”
“We wouldn’t really do that to you,” said Nimbus, breezily.
“Or to Ironmane,” said Cirrus. “He doesn’t let it on much, but deep down-”
“-he’d miss either one of us if we were gone,” said Nimbus.
“And you probably would, too,” said Cirrus.
“Without a doubt,” I said. “You guys have been making these Sundays memorable, to say the least.”
“Aww, see?” said Cirrus, grinning at his brother. “He’s grown attached to us already.”
“Mission accomplished, I’d say,” said Nimbus.
These guys were just too much.
“Anyways,” said Cirrus, producing a bag and handing it to me, “here’s your weekly dues, Dave.”
“As for news,” said Nimbus, “all’s still well, with the Lounge and with the minister.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said. “And speaking of Minister Ironmane, I’ve got something for you guys to give him: my latest essay.”
“Oh, goody!” said Nimbus.
I handed over the envelope containing my essay, which Nimbus tucked under his wing.
“Ironmane will be glad to get this,” he said. “He loves reading your essays.”
“Well, he loves reading in general,” said Cirrus. “He’ll spend a good hour or so just reading through a single issue of the Canterlot Times, but he’s always had good things to say about your assignments.”
“‘Quite the team, David and Twilight Sparkle’, I heard him say,” said Nimbus. “Is she your writing partner?”
“More like my tutor,” I said. “Most of the credit for my writing goes to her. My assignments wouldn’t be nearly as complete without her help.”
“Always good to give credit where it’s due,” said Cirrus. “Never forget the ponies who helped get you where you are today.”
“And if anypony knows the value of having somepony at your side to give you a hoof-” said Nimbus.
“-you’re looking at them,” the pair said in unison.
“I can believe that,” I said. “I imagine being twins comes with a strong sense of commitment to each other.”
(Kind of like Pinkie and Marble, actually.)
“Of course,” said Cirrus. “And not just to ourselves, but to Ironmane as well.”
“Like the time he almost-” Nimbus began, but Cirrus cleared his throat loudly, cutting him off. “But that’s a story for another time,” he said. “We shouldn’t stick around too much longer, or we’ll be late getting back.”
“All right,” I said, wondering what he had been about to say. “Well, before you guys go, can I get you anything? Some tea or water? I could just bring it out here for you, if you’d like.”
“Well, thanks for the offer!” said Cirrus. “I wouldn’t mind a glass of water.”
“Me neither,” said Nimbus. “All this gabbing and vocal pranking really dries the pipes, you know?”
Quick as I could, I poured out two glasses of cold water, added ice, and brought them out to my two guests. Cirrus and Nimbus gulped them down in grateful unison, then handed the glasses back.
“Much better,” said Cirrus.
“Much obliged,” said Nimbus.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “I’ll see you guys next week.”
“Until then,” said Cirrus, saluting.
“Take care,” said Nimbus, saluting as well, and transferring my essay envelope under his hoof.
Both took off at the same time, disappearing into the clouds. As I put their drinking glasses away in the sink, I couldn’t help wondering about what Nimbus had said. That was the second time he had been about to bring something up about Ironmane, only to have Cirrus cut him off. Was there something to this? Some secret linked with my superior’s past? Or was I just overthinking things?
All of a sudden, a loud voice shattered the silence, making me jump.
“It’s happenin’! It’s happenin’!
I hurried over to the nearest window, threw it open, and looked out. Apple Bloom was galloping towards the house in a high state of excitement.
“What is it, Apple Bloom?” I called. “What’s happening? Is everything okay?”
Apple Bloom skidded to a halt under the window, beaming up at me, her orange eyes twinkling.
“Better than okay, Dave!” she chirped. “The timber wolves were howlin’ last night!”
I stared blankly back at her. That was what had her so excited? Timber wolves howling?
“And that means?” I prompted her.
“It means that the zap apples are comin’!” said Apple Bloom, bouncing up and down in a way that would make Pinkie proud.
I was surprised to hear this at first, but then I remembered what Applejack had said.
“It’s always in the same month, but never the same day. Our first sign will be when the timber wolves start howlin’.”
“That’s right,” I said. “Applejack mentioned something about that, but how does that work? How do the timber wolves know?”
“Ah dunno, but Granny says that’s how it’s always been,” said Apple Bloom. “Every zap apple harvest, the timber wolves start howlin’ when they’re about to grow, and Granny has to keep ‘em away from the farm by bangin’ pots and pans.”
I blinked.
“Keep the wolves away, or the apples?” I asked.
“The wolves, silly,” said Apple Bloom. “Somethin’ about zap apple season makes ‘em restless, so we gotta make sure to keep ‘em away from the farm.”
“And it’s only as long as zap apple season lasts, right?” I asked, warily.
“Yup,” said Apple Bloom, before noticing my expression and adding, “Sorry, Ah forgot. You didn’t have a good experience with timber wolves, didja?”
“Well, if nearly getting eaten alive by them counts as not having a good experience, then no.”
I didn’t say this out loud, so instead, I asked, “So, what comes after?”
“A whole lot of things,” said Apple Bloom. “We’ve got to get everythin’ right so the zap apples taste their best. Why don’t you come along to the farm with me, and Ah can show ya some of what we gotta do? The second sign shouldn’t be long now.”
“Sure, why not? I wouldn’t mind seeing the process. Be right out.”
I closed the window, and wasn’t long in joining Apple Bloom outside. No sooner did I do so than the little filly, with a big smile on her face, started back towards the farm, looking back every now and then to make sure she didn’t leave me behind. It was quite adorable, honestly.
***
The first thing that greeted my eyes as we approached the farm was...unexpected, to say the least.
We were just coming within sight when the wind suddenly picked up, bringing Apple Bloom and me to a halt. I looked up at the sky, and was alarmed to see a thick bank of clouds hovering overhead. It looked like a nasty storm was brewing. I scooped up Apple Bloom in my arms.
“Come on!” I said. “We’d better find somewhere to shelter until it passes!”
“It’s all right, Dave,” said Apple Bloom, sounding downright amused at my panic, while also raising her voice to be heard over the wind. “This happens every zap apple season! We ain’t gonna get rained on! Watch!”
Perplexed, I looked on. The clouds did seem to only be swirling over Sweet Apple Acres. As I watched, a section of trees, barely visible, and apparently lacking any leaves, let off a volley of blue sparks. Almost as soon as they’d come, they disappeared, and the clouds and wind died away as well, leaving everything as calm and serene as it had been only a minute ago.
I stood there, dumbfounded, with Apple Bloom still held in my arms, giggling at my expression.
“What? Huh? How?”
“That’s the magic of zap apples, Dave,” said Apple Bloom, booping my nose with her little hoof.
Numbly, I set her down, and she started off again, while I followed a bit more slowly behind, still wondering what in the world I’d just witnessed.
As we entered Sweet Apple Acres, I looked over at the trees that had been sparking. Empty harvesting buckets had been placed underneath them, and all of them were now sporting large, purplish leaves on their branches. Applejack and Big Mac, both with wind-swept manes, were adding buckets to trees that still didn’t have any underneath.
“Well, there y’are, seedling! What kept ya?”
I looked around, and saw Granny Smith exiting the barn.
“Sorry, Granny,” said Apple Bloom. “Ah wanted to show Dave what zap apple season looks like as it’s happenin’. He got to see the second sign first-hoof!”
Granny looked up and caught sight of me.
“Well, howdy, Davey-boy,” she said, genially.
“Hello, Granny,” I said. “That was quite a storm back there.”
“All part of the process, dearie,” said Granny, pointing her withered hoof towards the newly-leafed trees. “You see them trees out there?”
“The ones that just got leaves?” I asked.
“In just four days, they’ll be covered in ripe zap apples, right where those leaves are.”
“Wow, only four days?” I asked. “That’s pretty quick.”
“Yep,” said Granny, “but they’ve gotta be picked by the fifth day, or they’ll disappear quicker than you can pick ‘em.”
“Wait, they disappear if you don’t pick them quick enough?” I asked, surprised. “Sounds like pretty fickle fruit.”
“Oh, zap apples are mighty partic’lar, you can bet your biscuits,” said Granny. “That’s why you gots to know the ins and outs of how to harvest ‘em and get the best taste out of ‘em.”
“And Granny’s done it long enough to get it perfect,” said Apple Bloom, proudly.
“Aw, now, don’t go butterin’ me up like a flapjack there, Apple Bloom,” said Granny, tousling Apple Bloom’s mane. “Even if it is true,” she added, winking at me.
“Well, if it’s a busy time for you all,” I said, “I definitely don’t want to get in the way of it, but if there’s any way I can help out, I’d be more than happy to.”
“That’s kind of ya t’ offer, Davey-boy,” said Granny. “Ah think we’ll be just fine, now that Apple Bloom’s got a harvest under her belt already. Ah’ve shown her how to make jam, and she took to it like a cat to climbin’.”
Apple Bloom beamed.
“But there is somethin’ you could help us out with, long as yer here,” said Granny. “It’s a big part of every harvest.”
“Of course!” I said, eagerly. “Anything!”
***
When I said ‘anything’, I hadn’t exactly pictured what Granny had in mind.
A ring of full watering cans had been set up in front of the barn. Granny and Apple Bloom had both donned colorful bunny costumes, purple and blue, respectively. I myself was given a pair of fake rabbit ears to wear on my head, which I did, feeling exceptionally foolish. Admittedly, Apple Bloom looked even more adorable than usual in her little bunny suit.
“So, er, what exactly are we doing again?” I asked.
“We’re singin’ to the water,” said Apple Bloom, matter-of-factly.
(I’ve heard of brooks babbling, but never about them being babbled to back.)
“Givin’ the roots of the zap apple trees a sprinklin’ of water that’s been sung to keeps ‘em strong and healthy,” Granny explained. “Encourages ‘em to grow even more apples each year.”
“Is that right?” I asked, bemused.
“Sounds a bit peculiar, Ah know,” said Granny, “but like mah ma used to say, ‘magic is as magic does’.”
“I suppose so,” I said, looking down at the watering cans. “So, what do we sing to the water? Does it have a preference?”
“Oh, nothin’ too fancy,” said Granny. “Ah’ve found that the alphabet usually does the trick: somethin’ simple and familiar.”
“Ah, of course,” I said. “And, how much do we have to do it?”
“Just long enough to sing it once,” said Granny. “You two ready?”
“Ready!” said Apple Bloom.
“Ready,” I said, still unsure.
In the whole of my stay in Equestria, even considering the idea of living among pastel-colored ponies in the first place, this had to be one of the silliest, most embarrassing things I’ve ever had to do: hopping like a bunny around watering cans, wearing bunny ears, singing the alphabet. The best that could be said about this was that we were at least alone, and it was all part of growing zap apples, an important staple of Ponyville’s agriculture. Besides, I did say I’d help with anything.
There was such a thing as being too accommodating.
“...Now I know my ABCs
Next time, won’t you sing with me”
I’d only just finished when I heard a pair of voices snickering. Looking around, I saw Applejack and Big Mac, who had clearly seen enough of what I’d been up to, and were trying to hold back their laughter. I felt my face grow hot.
“Please say you won’t tell anyone about this,” I mumbled.
“Don’t worry, sugarcube,” said Applejack, kindly, though there was still a hint of laughter in her voice. “Mah lips are sealed.”
“Eeyup,” said Big Mac.
“But Ah’ve gotta say,” said Applejack, “Ah don’t think you’ve ever looked cuter.”
“Heh-heh, nope,” chuckled Big Mac.
I didn’t quite know how to respond to that. I knew they were just teasing, but it still felt awkward, even if I did bring it upon myself for volunteering. I just had to remember what Granny said: ‘magic is as magic does’. If this was necessary for the zap apples, who was I to argue?
“Good work, Davey-boy!” said Granny, hopping over and patting me on the arm. “Yer a natural water-singer!”
Apple Bloom giggled.
“Er, thanks, Granny,” I said, handing my fake ears back to her. “Happy to assist. If there’s anything else you guys would like help with during the season, just let me know. I don’t really have anything else going on that I can recall, so I can lend a free hand.”
“Well, ain’t you just the most helpful human we’ve ever met?” said Applejack, nudging my side.
(I’m the only human you’ve ever met, AJ.)
“Very kind of ya, sonny,” said Granny. “If’n you want, you could come with Apple Bloom and me to the market later today. We’ve got some supplies to pick up before the third sign hits. Could happen any moment ‘afore the end of tomorrow.”
“Sure, no problem,” I said. “I’d be happy to.”
(Just as long as it doesn’t involve something like dressing up like a penguin and doing the Macarena in the middle of town.)
***
Around mid-afternoon, I accompanied Granny Smith and Apple Bloom to the Ponyville marketplace. To give them a hand, I picked up a couple shopping baskets so I could ease some of the carrying. As we walked along, ponies greeted the three of us, and I had to keep one of the baskets crooked around my elbow so I could wave with a free hand.
“So, what sort of supplies do you need to make proper zap apple jam?” I asked.
“Well, first off,” said Granny, “we need a good, sturdy pan to cook it in.”
“Ours go through a lot of use at home,” said Apple Bloom, “so we’ve got to get a fresh one.”
“Because zap apples prefer a pan made especially for them?” I ventured.
“Exactly!” said Apple Bloom.
“Now yer gettin’ it, sonny-boy,” said Granny, approvingly.
So we stopped by a stall selling pots and pans, and I waited while Granny browsed around to pick one out. They all looked in good shape to me, though I couldn’t help wondering why there was a sign reading ‘You Bite It, You Buy It’, and why the stall keeper was keeping a beady eye on Granny. At last, she found what she was looking for, handed over the bits for it, and Apple Bloom helped her tuck it away in one of her saddle bags.
“Next thing we need,” Granny said, “is some good, fresh honey. That gives the jam a nice, sweet kick to it.”
Now that sounded delicious. So, our next stop was a stall that had several beehives posted around it. Bees were already buzzing about, and I slackened my pace, feeling wary. Apple Bloom noticed.
“What’s wrong, Dave?”
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I just don’t do well with bees.”
“Ah know what you mean,” said Apple Bloom, sympathetically. “We always just leave this bit to Granny. She knows how to talk to the bees best.”
“Oh, well, that’s...Wait, talk to the bees? I thought only Fluttershy did that.”
“Not like that, silly,” said Apple Bloom, and she pointed.
I looked, and a thrill of shock ran through me. Granny’s wrinkled face was covered in a beard of buzzing bees, but she wasn’t paying the least mind about it. On the contrary, she was smiling, and even talking, as though having a conversation with the bees. The stall-pony didn’t look surprised in the slightest, either.
“Granny’s one brave pony,” I muttered. “I’d be out cold before I let that many bees crawl all over my face.”
“Granny found out that you have to be friendly with the bees,” said Apple Bloom. “That way, you get the best honey from them. She’s been payin’ them a visit every time she comes to the market.”
“Is that right?” I said. “Well, wonders never cease in Equestria.”
Eventually, the bees dispersed, and Granny had purchased a good quantity of thick, golden honey. This time, Apple Bloom stored it in her own saddlebags.
“That was some impressive bee diplomacy, Granny,” I said. “I know I could never do that.”
“Aw, it’s nothin’ nopony can’t handle, sugar,” said Granny. “All’s you’ve gotta do is give the bees no reason to be afraid of ya, and you’ll get along as smooth as coffee and cream. ‘Course, Ah don’t drink coffee mahself. Gives me the jitters somethin’ awful, and gets mah dentures a-clatterin’.”
“Er, right.”
“Now, the last thing we need to pick up is plenty of glass jars to hold the jam in. They keep the flavor sealed for moons. ‘Course, we never know if they’re ready fer service until we bring ‘em home. Some jars just can’t handle the pressure,” she added, with a grim shake of the head.
What pressure? The pressure of being the vessels destined for the almighty zap apple jam? I felt inclined to question Granny about this, when a voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Well, if it ain’t my favorite business partner! How are you, Granny Smith?”
I looked up. Strolling through the main thoroughfare of the market was Filthy Rich, with Diamond Tiara at his side. Spoiled Rich was conspicuously absent.
“Well, how do, Filthy?” called Granny.
“Er, just ‘Rich’, if you don’t mind,” said Filthy Rich, awkwardly. “And how are you doin’, young’in?” he added, smiling down at Apple Bloom.
“Just fine, Mr. Rich, sir,” said Apple Bloom, politely.
I noticed that she was determinedly avoiding looking at Diamond Tiara, who was likewise keeping aloof of her. There was still some suspicion between them after all, even after tensions had cooled down.
“And good day to you too, Dave,” said Filthy Rich, catching sight of me. “Giving Granny Smith a hoof with her shopping?”
“Yes, sir, Fi- er, Mr. Rich,” I said. “I volunteered to give them some help preparing for zap apple season.”
“Oh! It’s happenin’ already?” asked Filthy Rich, eagerly. “I was thinkin’ about askin’, since it was about that time, but I didn’t want to be too pushy.”
“Yup,” said Granny. “In four days time, we’ll be whippin’ up zap apple jam, and the first batch’ll have Barnyard Bargains’ name on it, as promised.”
“Magnificent!” said Filthy Rich, beaming. “I’d better start getting the display ready at the store, and let ponies know the time’s a’coming. I’ll leave y’all to your shopping. Take care, now.”
We had only just started going our separate ways, when Filthy Rich’s voice called out again, this time addressing me.
“Oh, Dave? Could I have a word? I only just remembered something.”
I paused, looking from his expectant face to Granny and Apple Bloom.
“Go ahead, Davey-boy,” said Granny. “We’ll be browsin’ the jars when you get back.”
“Okay, Granny.”
I walked over to Filthy Rich as Granny and Apple Bloom kept on walking.
“Diamond Tiara’s told me about this amateur concert you and your little friends are puttin’ on,” said Rich, patting Diamond Tiara’s head.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “I’d heard she signed up for it. The electric guitar, I believe?”
“That’s right,” said Filthy Rich, looking proud. “She’s a natural at anythin’ she puts her hooves to, just like her old man.”
I would’ve begged to differ, considering the mishaps she’d had during the Junior Derby, but obviously, I wasn’t about to say anything about it in front of her father. Still, looking at Diamond Tiara’s pampered princess appearance, it was hard to believe she could ever be connected to an instrument as loud and obnoxious as an electric guitar.
“In any case,” said Rich, “I suppose now that you have your acts signed up, you’ll be gettin’ down to settin’ up your venue.”
“Yes, we are,” I said. “Octavia and Vinyl Scratch are taking care of all of that. They’ve got a lot more experience with it than me and the Crusaders, so they agreed to help us.”
“Good to hear. Well, since I have a vested interest in how this concert turns out-”
Here, he put his hoof around his daughter and pulled her into a hug against his side.
“-I wouldn’t mind givin’ y’all a hoof to get things set up. You know, put some bits forward into getting you the equipment you need to put on a proper show, maybe even advertise it once you get a definite performance date. Call it a sponsorship deal.”
“Really?” I asked, amazed. “You’d do that for us?”
“If it’ll help my little girl become a musical star, then of course,” said Rich. “I plan on asking Octavia and Vinyl Scratch, of course, but as the Crusaders’ chaperone, I figured you ought to be in the know as well.”
The Crusaders’ chaperone? Well, I supposed, in a sense, I kind of was, since I was the oldest. It just felt odd being addressed as such, but that wasn’t what was important at the moment.
“That’s very generous of you, Mr. Rich!” I said. “I’m sure everypony would be more than happy knowing we had your esteemed patronage for our humble concert. And I’m sure your daughter’s performance will have them stamping their hooves in the aisles, so to speak.”
I looked down at Diamond Tiara, who glanced up at me, and there was no mistaking the little smile on her face at my words. Filthy Rich looked delighted.
“Thank you kindly, Dave,” he said. “Well, we’d best be off. Don’t wanna keep you from your shoppin’ any longer, but I’ll be in touch about the concert. Come along, Diamond Tiara.”
“Yes, Daddy,” said Diamond Tiara, speaking up for the first time. “See you, Mr. Dave.”
“Bye.”
My head was buzzing as I walked away from the Riches, looking for Granny and Apple Bloom. Filthy Rich, one of the wealthiest ponies in Ponyville, sponsoring our concert? It had seemed such a simple and amateur idea when it was first put to paper, but it was quickly ballooning into something bigger than I had expected. That wasn’t a bad thing, of course, but it was still surprising.
At last, I found them in front of a stall that was boasting pyramids of clear glass jars. Granny was browsing about, while Apple Bloom brought her glass jars to look at. Sometimes, Granny would shake her head, and Apple Bloom put the jar back. Other times, she nodded, and Apple Bloom set the jar in a slowly-growing cluster sitting beside her. The stall pony had a big grin on his face; clearly, Granny was his best customer around this time.
“There y’are,” said Apple Bloom, catching sight of me. “What did Filthy Rich want?”
I was about to tell her, but something told me I shouldn’t keep Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Dinky out of the loop. They were involved in the concert as well.
“Let’s arrange a Crusaders meeting at the clubhouse,” I said. “Once you and Granny have everything settled, that is. I’ll explain there.”
Apple Bloom looked puzzled at this, but Granny spoke up, making us all jump.
“Welp, Ah think that’ll just about do it fer now,” she said, placing a heap of bits on the stall counter, and looking at the big crowd of jars sitting beside her. “These’ll cover the batch of jam for Filthy’s store, at any rate. You don’t mind giving us a hoof carryin’ these, do you, Davey-boy?”
“Of course not,” I said, bending down to start packing them up. “I’d never force you to carry them all back yourself.”
Smiling, Granny patted me on the head.
“Yer such a gentlecolt, sonny,” she said, fondly. “Ah hope all humans are as helpful as you are.”
(I wish they were, Granny, believe me. Many are, but I wish all of them could be.)
“Now, let’s get all this back to the farm,” Granny said, as I straightened up with my load. “We should still have plenty of pink paint left over for the kitchen when it’s time for jam. Those zap apples do love their polka dots.”
...I wasn’t going to question it. Like Granny said, ‘magic is as magic does’.
***
After I helped Granny and Apple Bloom bring their zap apple supplies home, I went to the Hooves’ house to fetch Scootaloo and Dinky for the meeting. Finding they were out, I hopped on my scooter to search around Ponyville for them. On my way through, I had to swerve and brake hard to avoid bumping into Mr. and Mrs. Cake, who were laden with saddlebags filled with purchases, and Pound and Pumpkin Cake in saddle carriers.
“Whoops! Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. C,” I said.
“Oh, don’t fret, dearie,” said Mrs. Cake, though both she and her husband looked a little frazzled from the surprise. “We’ve gotten used to that sort of thing, the way Scootaloo speeds through. You’ve got good reflexes there.”
“Heh, thanks,” I said. “That reminds me: you’re all going to be away for a bit, right?”
“That’s right,” said Mr. Cake. “The four of us will be out for a week, and Pinkie and Moonlight will be minding Sugarcube Corner.”
“It’s just been so long since we had some time away,” said Mrs. Cake. “Time that didn’t have anything to do with baking.”
“And we figured we were about due,” said Mr. Cake. “And we know we can leave everything in the girls’ capable hooves.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Well, if I don’t see you guys before you head out, I hope you have a nice, relaxing vacation.”
“Oh, thank you, Dave,” said Mrs. Cake, both her and Mr. Cake giving me a kind smile.
“And that goes for you two as well,” I said, leaning over and booping the twins on their noses.
That set them giggling, and amid that good cheer, I bid goodbye to the Cakes and went back on my way.
I didn’t have to search for much longer, as I found Scootaloo and Dinky at Ponyville Park, taking turns riding Scootaloo’s scooter. Of course, Scoot couldn’t help showing off a little by using her wings to perform a few nifty tricks, but Dinky looked more impressed than envious. I informed the two that they were wanted for an impromptu Crusader meeting, and they wasted no time in heading off for the clubhouse, though Scootaloo said they’d fetch Sweetie Belle, so I didn’t need to worry about doing it myself.
I rode my way back, and despite making a straight beeline there, the others had evidently gotten lucky in finding Sweetie Belle, as they were already waiting for me. It seemed that no matter how good my new ride was, it just couldn’t compare with the power of Scootaloo’s wings. So, knowing they must be wondering what I’d called them for, I cut straight to the point and informed them of my meeting with Filthy Rich.
“Filthy Rich wants to sponsor our concert?” Sweetie Belle asked, incredulously.
“That’s what he said,” I said. “Since Diamond Tiara’s performing in it, he said he has a vested interest in how it turns out, so he wants to enhance it a bit.”
“Tch, figures,” scoffed Scootaloo. “The only reason he’s offering is because his ‘princess’ is in it. He probably wants her to steal the show from the rest of us.”
“Mr. Rich is always so nice, though,” said Dinky, mildly. “He’s a lot nicer than Mrs. Rich, anyway.”
The four fillies all shifted and pulled faces at the mention of Spoiled Rich. Seems I wasn’t the only one who didn’t have a good impression of her.
“Can’t argue with that,” said Scootaloo. “But Diamond Tiara pretty much has her dad wrapped around her hoof, so if she wants to be the star, he’ll make her the star. And this is supposed to help Dave get his cutie mark. How’s he going to do that if somepony else gets the spotlight?”
“Now, now, Scootaloo,” I said, feeling another twinge over the whole ‘Dave’s cutie mark’ thing. “It’s not fair to immediately jump to the worst conclusions just because Diamond Tiara and her family are involved. We already agreed we’d be on the lookout just in case, but I don’t think Filthy Rich would allow anything unscrupulous to happen. At least, Octavia and Vinyl wouldn’t allow it to happen, so if they agree to let him sponsor us, we should trust their judgment.”
Scootaloo still didn’t look entirely convinced, but she didn’t say anything.
“Ah’m not entirely sold on Diamond Tiara being in our concert either,” said Apple Bloom, “but Ah trust Filthy Rich more than Ah trust her. His family’s been partners with ours fer ages. He wouldn’t make a mess of things if an Apple were part of the show.”
“That’s true,” I said.
Sweetie Belle and Dinky both looked mollified at this.
“I guess,” mumbled Scootaloo.
“Hey, chin up, Scoot,” I said, putting my hand under her chin to tilt her head up. “We’re still gonna put on a great show regardless. This isn’t simply about getting a cutie mark, but having a good time and giving a good performance for Ponyville.”
Scootaloo looked at me for a moment or two in silence, then grinned a little.
“Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “I can’t stew over Diamond Tiara when I’ve got a wicked drum solo to perfect.”
“That’s the spirit,” I said. “And besides, zap apple season’s right around the corner, too.”
“We heard!’ squeaked Dinky, excitedly. “We came by to see Apple Bloom before she went to the market, and she said the zap apples are coming!”
“Mmm, I can already taste that zap apple jam,” said Sweetie Belle, rubbing her stomach with a dreamy look on her face.
“Me too,” said Scootaloo. “And you’re helping out this season, right, Dave?” she added, looking at me. “Apple Bloom said you were there at the farm earlier.”
“Well, kind of,” I said. “I offered to lend a hand if Granny needed some extra assistance.”
“Dave’s been a big help,” said Apple Bloom. “He helped us get our jam-makin’ supplies. That’s when we ran into Filthy Rich.”
“Did you sing to the water, too?” Dinky asked me, giggling.
I stared at her, surprised.
“You know about that?” I asked.
“Sure,” said Sweetie Belle. “Granny Smith told our class all about the things you have to do for zap apples, and last season, we all helped out.”
“It was pretty silly, but pretty fun, too,” said Scootaloo.
“And Mr. Rich even made Diamond Tiara join in,” said Dinky.
“Served her right fer bein’ rude to her pa’s best business partner,” said Apple Bloom.
This brought out a chorus of giggles from my Crusader friends. I was honestly astonished. The girls all knew about that water singing business, and had even joined in? Well, that put things in perspective. There was something about experiencing something awkward, then realizing your friends had done so as well. That made it less embarrassing, and more amusing to think about afterwards.
Besides, thinking about it, hopping around watering cans wearing bunny ears and singing the alphabet hadn’t been the weirdest thing that had ever happened to me in Equestria. Heck, just two days ago, I found out my neighbor and good friend was an amnesiac and the former traveling companion of a stage magician. Wonders never ceased in Equestria.
One thing stuck out to me, though. Apple Bloom said Diamond Tiara had been rude to Granny Smith, her dad’s business partner. Surely she would’ve shown her more respect if the ties between Sweet Apple Acres and Barnyard Bargains was so strong. It was obvious that it couldn't have come from Filthy Rich, since Dinky said he forced her to sing to the water too. I’d already suspected that she might have gotten her attitude problems from her mother, even from a single meeting with her, but I didn’t realize it could extend to such blatant disrespect. Was Filthy Rich aware of it himself?
“Dave? You okay?”
I started. I must’ve been staring off into space. All four Crusaders were looking at me.
“What? Oh! Yeah, sorry. I was just lost in thought for a bit.”
“You do that a lot, don’t you?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“I guess,” I said, shrugging. “It just happens.”
“Are we going to get like that when we’re as old as you?” Dinky asked, innocently.
“As old as me?” I repeated, eyebrow raised. “Excuse me? I’d hardly call 20 old, missy.”
“Whatever you say, ‘Grandpa Dave’,” snickered Scootaloo.
This set the girls giggling again. Honestly, I couldn’t even muster up the nerve to be angry with them, and cracked a grin as well. How could I ever stay mad at such sweet and silly friends?
Sunday, March 17