//------------------------------// // Chapter 3: Them Early Days // Story: The Private Scrapbook // by Cadabra //------------------------------// Chapter 3: Them Early Days The Seed Family lived on a very small plot of land in Dodge City. It had been a dry few years due to union strikes in Cloudsdale, which had been hard on the harvests around Equestria. Dodge City didn’t have the money to have irrigation systems built into place to combat the strike that more well off cities could afford to take advantage of. Because of the lack of water, many family’s farms and properties had dried up, leaving little chance to profit off of what they had. The Seed Family patriarch, Pokey Oaks, had mortgaged his house to the Dodge City Building and Loan for a second time in order to make ends meet. His logic dictated that if he could gather up enough valuable seeds to sell that he would get the mortgages paid off to the banker, Mighty Rich, in no time at all. He hadn’t realized that the union strikes in Cloudsdale would continue for as long as they had, and that the dry spell was going to hurt the seed industry as badly as it had in the long run. Returning home that day after taking a partial payment to the Building and Loan, he watched as his two teenaged sons pecked at the dry dirt in the back yard. ‘Wonder what they dug up today?’ Pokey Oaks thought to himself as he watched his middle child, Happy Trails, pull a thin, discolored root of a carrot out of the ground. He watched as the big smile on the teenager’s face faded as his older brother, Prairie Tune, comment negatively on the low quality of the vegetable. “Boys!” he hollered before a fight could break out. “Y’all are gonna upset yer momma with yer bickerin’. Now bring that there carrot inside so she can get her somethin’ to eat. She’s gotta feed that baby in her belly.” Upon hearing the sound of her father’s voice, his youngest and only daughter peeked her head out the window. “Daddy!” she exclaimed, holding her arms out the window for her father to pick her up. “I’m so glad yer back! I found a real hum dinger of a seed fer ya today! Ya just gotta come in and see it!” Pokey Oaks couldn’t help smiling at his daughter’s unbridled enthusiasm. Unlike the rest of his family and neighbors, her optimistic spirit hadn't been broken by the hardships Dodge City had endured. He hoped she would never see it be broken by anypony or anything. She really was the apple of his eye, and he showed it by picking her up right out of the window and planting a big sloppy kiss on her cheek. “Why yer a right seeder, Smithy!” he smiled as he set his daughter down beside her brothers. “So what do ya think it’ll grow up into? Maybe a magic bean stalk that’ll get us all the way to Cloudsdale? Or how ‘bout a tree that’ll feed the whole town!” Smithy loved her father’s tall tales. How he came up with them was a mystery to her, but being surprised by his imagination was always fun to hear. Too bad her eldest brother didn’t share in her enthusiasm. Prairie Tune tossed the carrot at his sister’s feet. “Take this to mama,” he instructed bluntly. “Maybe y’all can grow it into a crazy lil’ stew or somethin’ magicked up like that.” Happy Trails smacked his older brother in the flank with his back leg. “Tuney!” he wined. “Y’ll get everypony upset with yer gabbin’. And mama don’t need to get upset, what with the baby on the way.” Prairie Tune rolled his eyes at his brother’s concerns. “Oh come on, Happy,” he sighed, pointing to a row of memorial sticks poking out of the ground where dead family members had been buried. “It ain’t like it’ll be 'round long enough fer us to get to know it. Just look at the last few she birthed out. Stuck in the ground now with nothin’ but a stick to remember ‘em by.” --------------- Apple Bloom’s jaw dropped as she listened to Granny Smith talk about her brothers. “How could he say somethin’ so awful?” she gasped innocently. Granny Smith wrapped a comforting arm around her granddaughter as she explained the harsh reality. “It’s ‘cause he knew he was right,” she explained. “Bein’ born at home ain’t easy on a lil’ foal, or on its mama. Poor lil’ fella started comin’ into the world while me and mah Grammy Gillyflower started makin’ carrot soup, and left the world by the time supper was ready. It just weren’t strong enough ‘cause mama didn’t have enough good food while the baby was in her.” The memory of the burial wasn’t a pleasant one, especially as Granny Smith thought about the song Prairie Tune strummed on his guitar as Happy Trails covered the baby over with dirt under the withered old apple tree. It seemed the only way that Prairie Tune could keep himself going was to write songs… --------------- There ain't no grave Can hold mah body down There ain't no grave Can hold mah body down Well meet me, Mama and Daddy, Meet me down the river road And Mama, ya know I'll be there When I check in mah load Ain't no grave Can hold mah body down There ain't no grave Can hold mah body down Though she’d been through this for the fifth time in her life, mother Sew n’ Sow couldn’t help crying over the loss of her newest stillborn baby. “The stars are holdin’ ya now, mah lil’ darlin’,” she wept, pawing at the fresh mound of dirt under the apple tree. Her husband wrapped his front leg over her shoulder to comfort her. In truth, holding his wife was the only thing keeping Pokey Oaks from bawling. “Ya did yer best, Sew n’ Sow,” he said, burying his face into her neck. “I just wish I coulda done better on ya.” Wiping at her eyes with a dirty handkerchief, Sew n’ Sow leaned her face against her husband’s head. “Now don’t go sayin’ anythin’ like that,” she said softly. “All ya need is to keep workin’ hard on them seeds and we’ll be in good with the Buildin' and Loan in no time at all. Then all our babies’ll be good and healthy.” As if on cue, Mighty Rich came waltzing up to the tree with a basket of treats, followed closely by some of his own family. “Awww no, lost another one?” he said, genuinely frowning at the sight before him. “Gosh I’m sorry to see this. And here I was gonna bring y’all a lil’ somethin' sweet to help y'all celebrate. How ya folks hangin’ in there?” Though Pokey Oaks and Sew n’ Sow were happy to accept the basket, Grammy Gillyflower shot the Rich’s a dirty look. “What’re y’all doin’ here?” she accused, grabbing her granddaughter protectively. Mighty Rich’s father eyed the old lady’s ill behavior. “Ah, come on now,” he said with a neighborly smile. “I may be retired, but that don’t mean I ain’t gonna take care of mah own and their lil’ business. Besides, I got a few grandchildren of mah own here to think 'bout, and I can’t be lettin’ mah boy set a bad example fer 'em.” His pre-teen, pimple faced grandson named Stinking Rich smiled up at his grandfather. “Yeah!” he said with a stupid grin, his voice cracking due to pre-pubescence. “We take care of our own, right grampa?” Smithy stuck her tongue out at Stinking Rich. “We take care of our own too, don’t we, Grammy?” Smithy replied in her family’s defense. Stinking Rich laughed at how Grammy Gillyflower tried to reassuringly stifle her granddaughter. “Is that right, Granny Smith?” he teased haughtily. “If they really thought at all 'bout ya, than why did they give ya such an old lady name like ‘Granny Smith?’ I can’t imagine having such a nasty name like that. Ya must be rightly embarrassed!” Pursing her lips angrily, Smithy pointed an accusing hoof at the gangly pre-teen. “Better than havin’ a stinky name like ‘Stinkin’ Rich’!’” she bellowed in a high pitched wail, her grandmother holding her back from getting into a fight. Seeing the escalating argument, Mighty Rich stepped in on his father and son. “Don’t y’all see they’re havin’ a rough time!” he scolded. His father lowered his ears at the tone, but Stinking Rich stuck his nose in the air. “Yes sir,” he said blandly, shooting Smithy a sideways glance and ignoring her dirty looks. Turning her angry granddaughter away from the tormentor, Grammy Gillyflower ran her hoof over the filly’s yellow braids. “Shhhhhhhh,” she hissed gently. "Don't pay him no mind. Colts like that just wanna find anythin' they can to get under yer skin so they can feel better 'bout themselves. Shows ya how petty they are if ya really think on it." The grandmotherly advice didn't help cool Smithy’s heated temper. "I wish I had a different name!" she complained. "I hate gettin' made fun of. It's just too doggone easy fer folks like Stinkin' Rich to pick on me!" Grammy Gillyflower took a deep breath as she patiently listened to her only granddaughter’s complaints. "Folks'll always find somethin' to bring ya down iff'n they really want to," she explained as best she could to her nieve grandchild. “I know ya think it’s a kinda silly name fer such real lil’ pony, but trust me on this one. One of these here days y’ll learn to appreciate yer name fer what it is.” Smithy had heard her grandmother say that a hundred times before, but it never made hearing it any better. Her name felt like nothing but a big target for ridicule. Mighty Rich turned his attention back to the grieving parents. "Gotta pardon mah boy," he apologized. "Ya know how they get at that age." Pokey Oaks eyed his mother and daughter, huddled up together and shooting the Rich's a sour look. "It's alright," he said. "I know we ain't been the easiest folks to work with here of late." While he didn't want to sound rude, Mighty Rich couldn’t help nodding in agreement at how much these debtors had tried his patience. "Still, y'all are some good, salt of the earth kinda ponies, and I can respect that," he said, turning the conversation to another topic. "While I know y'all are owin' somethin' fierce, I thought I'd tell ya 'bout mah brother. He said he needs some help with haulin' Celestia knows what. Might be a good opportunity fer ya, Pokey Oaks. Get a lil' money fer yer family, start payin' down this here debt. Everypony'll benefit, iff'n ya don't mind gettin' yer hooves dirty." Sew 'n Sow's eyes lit up at the prospect of money coming in again, but Pokey Oaks wasn't so sure. "Mah special talent's seedin', ya see," he explained, turning his hip to show the seeded cutie mark on his flank. "While I sure thank ya kindly fer thinkin' of me, I don't know what good I'd be doin' somethin' else." Mighty Rich lifted an eyebrow at the cutie mark. "I know it ain't what ya were plannin' on doin' to put food on the table," he explained, "but sometimes we can't always do what we want in life to get what we need. I never thought I'd be a banker, but look at me now. When I was yer youngin's age, I thought I'd travel the world. Sure, I still wanna do that with a business, but I ended up doin' this here so mah family could eat." While Pokey Oaks could see Mighty Rich's point, he just couldn't imagine a life outside of his dreams. "No offense, but don't ya think I'd be miserable at it?" he asked. "I don't wanna just jump on in on somethin' I just don't have the experience or skills fer." Mighty Rich returned his debtor's know-it-all gaze. "No offense, but are ya sure yer special talent ain't fer makin' yer family miserable by starvin' 'em to death?" he replied. "I ain't sayin' ya gotta do this here forever, Pokey Oaks, but money's what fuels lives 'round these here parts. Iff'n ya can't pay down what ya owe, ya won't be able to move in the directions I know ya wanna go. Besides, some of the skills y'll learn won't hurt yer own seedin' business. Heck, ya might even start networkin' in places ya never would've known otherwise, helpin' ya build up a better seedin' business." Pokey Oaks turned his back on the banker. "I'll think 'bout it," he grunted, watching his wife's face twist up in disappointment. Mighty Rich watched the distressed couple, his heart filled with pity at how headstrong Pokey Oaks was being. If only he could see the error of his ways and the opportunities he was presenting him. He wanted to see everypony working and prospering, but instead he was watching a stubborn pony looking for what he wanted to be just given to him. Might Rich sighed as he realized that some ponies just wouldn't take advice that they didn't want to hear. "Offer still stands, if ya change yer mind," he said. "I ain't tryin' to hurt ya none, Pokey Oaks. I wanna help ya, but ya gotta wanna help yerself iff'n ya wanna get ahead is all I'm tryin' to say." Pokey Oaks picked up the gift basket in his mouth. The two ponies stared at each other from the distance Pokey Oaks had put between them, the seeder with a look of frustration and the banker with a look of hope. "Thank ya kindly," Pokey Oaks said slowly, working the words through the handle of the basket he had gritted in his teeth. "Now go on. We need some time to ourselves." Mighty Rich gathered his family up to leave, tipping his bowler hat at the Seeds. He knew this wasn't a good time to talk about debt, but it seemed like every time he came to talk was always a bad time. As the Rich Family left, the Seed Family crowded around the basket. Inside were apples, corn bread muffins, honey butter, and an updated bank notice with the current balance.