A Day in the Life
No matter how hard Big Macintosh looked at the mirror his reflection would not change. Not that he was expecting his mane to get shorter just by staring at it, but it would be nice to see how it would look. It had been so long since his last cut that he forgot what he looked like with a short mane. He couldn’t help experimenting a bit, especially since he was freshly showered after completing his chores earlier that morning.
He tilted his chin upward, and his mane cascaded behind him. That was nice, though it reminded him of Prince Blueblood and how he looked at other ponies. He tilted his head down. That was good too. Nice and brooding like the heroes in romantic novels. He made sure to furrow his brow and give a hard scowl to the mirror. The way his mane fell and partially concealed his left eye was a nice touch. As a final test, he turned his head to get a good look at his almost-profile. He puckered his lips and lowered his eyelids seductively just as he saw Rarity do a couple of times.
“Ooh, sassy.” Macintosh almost jumped out of his coat and quickly pivoted around. Rainbow Dash rested her forelegs on his windowsill, covering her mouth with a hoof to mute her giggles. Her wings flapped gently in the early morning air. Why didn’t he hear them until now? Mac’s cheeks burned and he promised to keep his window and shutters closed from now on.
“Trying out the new ‘do?” Rainbow Dash asked. She lifted herself up and through the window. When she landed on the thick comforter on his bed her knees buckled slightly, yet her weight barely made an indent in the sheets. Dash looked down at his bed and did a small hop atop of it before turning her attention to Mac. “Your bed’s really comfy.”
“Ah take my sleep seriously,” Mac said. “Now is there something Ah can help ya with?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, I was just wondering if you’d come watch me train and see some of my stunts…” Her mouth gaped and a long drawl of a yawn escaped. “You mind if I, uh, lay down for a sec?” she asked.
Macintosh raised an eyebrow and took a closer look at Dash. Her feathers looked like they hadn’t been properly preened in days, sticking out every which way. Her coat shined with grease and she reeked of sweat. Her mane was even more unkempt than usual, and strands of it poked out in random directions. Dash sure did know how to push herself beyond her limits. He had to admire that.
She grew tired of waiting for permission and simply hunkered down and wrapped herself in a blanket. When she was nice and comfortable she took a long breath and closed her eyes.
“You feelin’ okay, sugarcube?” Macintosh asked as he took a few steps toward his bed and nudged her shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dash said without opening her eyes. “I’m just tired that’s all. I’ve been training all night and the night before that…and the night before that.”
“Rest as long as ya like,” Mac whispered. “You sure deserve it.” Silence was his only answer. He wondered if Dash had some sort of secret plan to sleep in every bed in the Apple family homestead. With a small smile he stroked her mane to smooth it out a bit, and Dash hummed softly. Her whole body relaxed, muscles loosened and her wings slumped on her back. Knowing that he probably had to wait quite a bit before she would wake up, he went back to the mirror hanging on his wall. He took it down and placed it back in his dresser drawer. No need for anybody else to catch him making faces at his reflection. His foresight was well timed as the click of an opening door announced Applejack’s arrival.
“Hey there, big brother,” Applejack said. She tossed an elastic cloth band on his dresser. “Here’s the tie ya wanted.”
“Thanks, sugarcube,” Mac said. He wrapped the band around his hoof and struggled to get it around his mane. Just as Applejack made to leave she did a double take toward Mac’s bed.
“What’s Rainbow Dash doin’ in your bed?” Applejack asked. Mac felt the edge on his sister’s voice, but didn’t feel at all afraid. He ignored her glare and snapped the band around his mane. Flicking his mane from side to side he tested its length, only satisfied when no wayward strands obstructed his face.
“Sleepin’,” he said. “She didn’t get a lot of it last night.”
“Big Macintosh Ap—”
Macintosh quickly shushed her, and nodded his head to the door. Without a word he opened it and stepped out into the hall. Applejack understood and followed right behind him. He didn’t speak until she closed the door behind her.
“Nothin’ happened,” he said. “Dash’s been trainin’ all night for the last couple of days, and she wanted me to watch her do some stunts, but she nodded off soon as she was on my bed. So don’t get yer tail all up in a knot.”
“Well yer phrasing sure didn’t do me any favors,” Applejack countered.
“What’s wrong, AJ?” Mac asked. “Yer practically pickin’ out bridesmaid dresses when ya see me with Rarity, but ya get mad as a rattler when ya catch a whiff of me and Dash together.” He looked into his sister’s eyes and softened his frown. “Applejack, ya know you can tell me anythin’. If you like Dash in that way then—“
“Dang it Mac, that ain’t it at all,” Applejack said with red cheeks. “Now listen here, Rarity knows how to handle herself ‘round a stallion, but Dash…doesn’t.” Applejack exhaled and patted Mac’s shoulder. “Yer a nice stallion, big brother, but sometimes Ah worry that ya might not realize how mares might take to ya. You could wind up accidentally hurtin’ somepony if you ain’t careful. Ah just don’t want things to go sour.”
“Don’t be silly, sugarcube,” Mac said with a smile. “Ya gotta believe me when Ah say Ah love Dash like a sister, same as you and Applebloom, so ya ain’t got anythin’ to worry about. And Ah don’t think Dash would appreciate being treated like a foal.”
Applejack nodded. “Ah know, Ah know.” She went to the door and cracked it open just a tiny bit to peer inside. “How bad did she look?”
“Pretty bad,” Macintosh said.
“Poor thing’s been training harder since y’all got back from the Wonderbolt show.” Applejack closed the door and headed downstairs. Mac went the same way. “Ah keep tellin’ her that restin’ is part of training too, but she never listens. Ah think she’s startin’ to get a might obsessed.” They reached the landing and Applejack stopped for a moment to face Macintosh. The light accentuated the bags beneath her eyes. “By the way, don’t think Ah didn’t notice that you weeded the west fields,” she said, the edge coming back into her voice.
Macintosh shrugged. “Ah started my chores early. Got done around sunrise, so Ah had some extra time and thought Ah could do a bit more ‘round the farm.”
“Well that was mighty nice of ya, big brother, but next time stick to the work Ah give you,” Applejack said. Macintosh bit his tongue and nodded. Satisfied, she continued, “Besides, you got a busy day ahead of ya while Ah’m workin’ the fields. Don’t you have that date with that filly from Canterlot?”
Macintosh rolled his eyes. He knew it was a mistake to tell her, but ever since Rarity told her about Octavia she wouldn’t leave him alone until he told her about it. “That’s only for lunch, ain’t like it’s gonna take up the entire day,” he said.
“Then ya got that painting lesson with Rarity,” Applejack countered.
“She told ya about that, huh,” Macintosh said with a defeated sigh. “So Ah guess my day’s a little busy…”
“And you know Rainbow Dash is gonna want you to watch her stunts once she wakes up,” Applejack said.
“Alright, Ah get it,,” Mac said. “Guess Ah’m gonna be a might busy today. Doesn’t mean Ah can’t do a little bit of work ‘round the—”
“Ah’m gonna head out to work the fields,” Applejack interrupted. “Ah’ll be sure to stop by and say hello to yer marefriend.”.
“Don’t you dare,” Macintosh said. “The last thing Ah want is for you to come by an’ gawk at us like some sorta exhibit at a museum.” He didn’t wait for Applejack to give him an answer and headed out into the summer day. Macintosh made sure to close the door just hard enough to convey how much he meant his objection. With a deep breath he strode off the porch and headed into Ponyville.
It was still a bit early. He wasn’t supposed to meet her until around noon for lunch. The sun began its ascent, illuminating the buildings of Ponyville in its soft orange light. He wished Rarity hadn’t told Applejack about their painting lesson. He was a bit apprehensive about picking up a paintbrush, and now that Applejack knew she would want to see his work. Sure he drew a bit when he was a colt, but that was such a long time ago, and even back then he was never good at it.
Macintosh arrived at Ponyville with a few minutes to spare, so he decided to take a detour through the park. Sunlight peeked through the lattice of leaves, and a small breeze rustled the leaves and filled the air with their gentle sound. The grass glinted light from the sun, and as the wind blew through the blades it seemed to take the light of the sun with it creating bands of light that glided through the grass.
The distant sound of a whistling train reverberated through the air, and Mac hurried to a trot. That would be Octavia’s train coming in. She definitely wasn’t the kind of mare to keep waiting. As the screech of brakes and hiss of steam arrived at the platform so did Big Macintosh. His heart beat faster while he watched ponies get off the train. Despite his quickening heart, his outer demeanor remained stoic and confident with just a small smile showing his excitement.
Octavia carried her cello case across her back as she stepped off the train. She stood on the platform for a few seconds and looked around until she saw Big Macintosh. They exchanged smiles and walked to each other, meeting in the middle of the station platform.
“Didn’t expect ya to bring yer cello,” Macintosh said. “You plannin’ on serenadin’ me?”
Octavia’s smile turned into her trademark smirk. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said. She adjusted the strap and walked past him. “Nice ponytail.”
Macintosh chuckled and trotted along beside her. They walked down Ponyville’s main street, and Mac enjoyed the rhythmic clops of hooves as they and other ponies made their way around town. “Ah’m tryin’ somethin’ new. You ever been to Ponyville before?” he asked.
“A few times,” Octavia replied. “Mostly to meet with a few rivals. I don’t come here often without good reason.”
“Awful sweet of ya to come down to see little ol’ me,” he said.
“It is, so be grateful,” Octavia said with a sly smile. “In fact, you can show me your gratitude by taking me somewhere to eat. I haven’t had a meal since yesterday’s lunch due to a rigorous practice schedule.” She looked around the nearby buildings. “I would prefer something a bit heavy since it will perhaps be my only meal of the day.”
“Sure thing,” Macintosh said with a smile. “Ah know just the place.” He led the way and she followed beside him, every now and then swishing her tail against his side. He didn’t mind, and he doubted she even noticed she was doing it judging by the way her attention was drawn toward the homes and shops lining the streets.
“I’ve always enjoyed the architecture of Ponyville,” Octavia said. “Eccentric, but comforting.”
“Eeyup,” Macintosh said. “You should see it at sunrise.”
“I should,” Octavia said with a smile.
He took a couple of quick steps to put himself just ahead of Octavia in order to lead the way, but before he could take anymore a purple and curled mane suddenly came into his line of sight. He had no idea where the heck Rarity came from. Maybe she learned Twilight’s teleporting spell, or maybe he just needed to pay more attention to his surroundings.
“Octavia, what a lovely surprise,” Rarity said. She actually sounded sincere.
“Hello, Rarity,” Octavia said, not as enthusiastically. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re on a date.” She stepped past Rarity. Macintosh tried to follow her, but Rarity held a hoof beneath his chin and stood him still.
“Macintosh, sweetie, what a lovely mane-style,” she said. Her hoof went from his chin to his cheek, and with gentle pressure she turned his head from side to side.
“Uh, Rarity-”
“Quiet, sweetie, I’m gaining inspiration,” she said.
“Rarity, if you stare any longer I’ll have to charge a fee,” Octavia said, stepping beside her. “Five bits for looking, an extra ten for touching.”
“Pardon me,” Rarity said nonchalantly and removed her hoof from him. “I was just considering a few possibilities for an outfit for Fancy Pants’ upcoming event.”
“What event?” Macintosh asked. He immediately regretted it as Octavia and Rarity looked at each other and shared the same mischievous smile.
“Should we tell him?” Rarity asked.
“Of course not, it’s entertaining to see that worried expression on his face,” Octavia said. She placed a bent fetlock beneath her chin and hummed in thought. “Though I’d like to see his look of surprise. If he only finds out through Fancy Pants’ invitation I might miss it.”
The mares laughed with each other, but Macintosh could not share in their glee. “Ya know, Ah think Ah liked it better when y’all were at each other’s throats instead of gangin’ up on mine,” he said.
“This is a bit more fun,” Octavia said with a smile. “Rarity, would you like to join us for lunch?” Mac took a moment to make sure he had heard her right. A few days ago they were sniping at each other, a few minutes ago Octavia wanted nothing to do with Rarity, and now they seemed the closest of friends. He was certain he would never understand these mares.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your date,” Rarity said with a smile, “but I would happily accompany you on the way there. Where are you eating?”
“That café a few blocks down. The one with flowers on the outside tables,” Macintosh said, relieved that she turned down the invitation.
“Perfect,” Rarity said, “that will give us plenty of time to talk. Shall we?” She stepped forward a couple of steps and looked over her shoulder, beckoning for the other two to follow. Octavia joined her without any hesitation, but Macintosh was a bit more reluctant. Of course, there was nothing he could do but join them and walk between them. Though he was determined to speak as little as possible.
“So have you two made your relationship official?” Rarity asked.
“No,” Octavia said, “right now we’re simply testing the waters and seeing how everything feels. No reason to go any faster than a violinist learning an up-bow staccato.”
“Eeyup,” Mac said.
“Well, Macintosh has never been one to rush into things either, so I’m sure he agrees with your approach.”
“Eeyup,” Mac said again, wondering if they actually heard him.
Rarity smiled and Mac could feel his muscles tense. It reminded him all too much of Octavia’s smirk. “Of course, since you haven’t made anything official, that would mean any mare could swoop in and take him before you finally get around to committing.”
“I suppose so,” Octavia said nonchalantly, “but I’ve never met a mare stupid enough to get in my way.”
“Of course not, but a bold mare would be a different story, don’t you think?” Rarity said.
Macintosh breathed a sigh of relief as he stopped in front of a café tucked within a couple of other stores. The perfectly pressed tablecloths on the patio seating, as well as the flowers arranged daintily inside a vase on each table, made the place feel very upscale yet intimate.
“I suppose I better be on my way,” Rarity said. “Goodbye Octavia and goodbye Macintosh. Don’t forget we have a painting lesson today.”
“Eeyup,” Mac said, and with a smile Rarity turned to the direction of the boutique and left. He waited until she was out of sight before turning to Octavia. “Well that was embarrassin’,” he said.
Octavia chuckled. “As if you didn’t absolutely love the attention,” she said, leading the way into the restaurant. It took no time at all for a waiter to seat them out in the patio and give them menus. “I’m actually surprised that you’re taking up painting. First the longer mane and now this. If I didn’t know better I would say you were trying to appear more cultured in order to impress me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Mac said. “Ah’m just takin’ a break from farming.” He decided to drop the conversation for now and just look at the menu. His eyes scanned across the list of familiar dishes like sandwiches and salads. When the waiter came to take their order, Macintosh ordered a simple salad while Octavia ordered a hay and dandelion sandwich, minestrone soup, caprese salad, and a helping of mashed potatoes from the dinner menu.
“You weren’t kiddin’ about being hungry,” Mac said as he eyed Octavia. The mare couldn’t possibly put away that much food.
“Of course,” she said, snapping her napkin open and wrapping it around her neck. “I would never joke about-“ She stopped suddenly as her eyes widened and then quickly narrowed as she looked at a point behind Mac. Her reaction made him tense up, and he tried his best to discreetly crane his neck to see what she was staring at. From the corner of his eye he saw the familiar light green coat of a unicorn entering the café.
Mac eased a bit in his seat, and he had to chuckle at his paranoia. As he did, Lyra noticed the two. She smiled happily and approached the pair just as their waiter came and set down their food.
“Oh hi, Octavia, I didn’t know you and Big Macintosh were a thing,” she said amiably. Lyra’s eyes looked at the food in front of the cellist. “It’s good to see you’re eating well. It must be the reason for your healthy figure.”
“Yes, I know,” Octavia said, her tone just as friendly. “You see, when your talent actually provides you with a means to support yourself, you tend to indulge now and then.”
“I guess so,” Lyra said, the corners of her smile twitching slightly. “Say Big Mac, did you know Octavia turned her last coltfriend gay?”
The plates and cups rattled from the sudden impact of Octavia’s hooves on the table. She seemed as surprised as the others at her sudden action, and quickly withdrew her hooves. She placed one in front of her mouth and forced a small laugh. “Oh Lyra, you’re too much. Well it’s been a pleasure talking to you so, unless you’re going to buy me lunch as well, I believe you’ll be going on your way.”
“Guess I should. I don’t think I could afford feeding you. I just came by to pick up a sandwich before rehearsal anyway. See ya later at the next meetup, Octavia. Remember, it’s your turn to bring dessert.” Lyra said. Macintosh said his goodbye, and Lyra trotted inside the café to get her food.
Octavia, meanwhile, stared at her plate. “Oh, I’ll bring dessert, Heartstrings.” She bit into her sandwich like a wolf at a carcass. “I’ll bring the best, and last, dessert you’ll ever eat. Macintosh, how hard would it be to poison a slice of apple pie?”
Macintosh chuckled. “Well, apple seeds are poisonous if ya eat about a few hundred.”
“Excellent, you can crush them into powder and sprinkle it into a pie. Then, as a supposed peace offering, I’ll give Lyra the whole thing.” She took another ferocious bite, and Macintosh could only watch her, wondering. “But enough of her,” Octavia continued. She polished off her sandwich and moved on to her soup. “I’d like to know more about you. Especially since I told you about my past at the dessert competition.”
“Not much of a story,” Mac said. “Had to work on my family’s farm when Ah was a little colt, been doing that since.”
“There must be more to it than that,” Octavia said, tipping the bowl to her mouth.
“Course,” he said, and he ate a few leaves of lettuce before speaking again, “but Ah don’t wanna put everythin’ up front. That’s just bad storytellin’.”
“Perhaps, but what you do give has to be interesting in order to keep your audience engaged. Otherwise who would want to wait until the story becomes worth a listen?”
Macintosh nodded. “Fair enough, Ah guess. Anythin’ in particular you’d like to know?”
“Let’s start with something basic,” Octavia said. “How did you receive your cutie mark?”
“Now there’s a story,” Mac said with a smile, “You see when Ah was a colt Ah—”
“Hey there, big brother! Funny running into you here,” Applejack’s voice called out. Mac’s muscles tensed, and it took every last bit of his willpower to slowly turn his head. No, it couldn’t be Applejack standing there. Even Rarity knew to leave the two alone on their date. “You okay, Mac?” Applejack said as she took a seat at their table. “Yer lookin’ a little pale. Hope ya don’t mind if Ah join ya.”
“I take it your Big Macintosh’s little sister,” Octavia said. “I’m Octavia by the way.”
“Nice to meet ya,” Applejack said with a smile. “Ah’m Applejack.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Octavia said. “Please, order as much as you want. It’s on me.” Macintosh raised an eyebrow at her, but she ignored him.
“You ain’t gotta do that,” Mac said. “She was ‘bout to leave anyway. Right AJ?” He glared at his sister, but she pretended not to notice as a waiter brought her a menu.
“Now Mac,” Applejack said, “it’d be bad manners to turn down her offer. Truth be told I just wanted to say hello to yer marefriend here.”
“That so?” Mac asked. “You decided to come by in the middle of our date, and not when Ah gave her a tour of the farm. You know, the smart, subtle way to introduce yerself.”
“Macintosh, let’s not be so rude to our guest,” Octavia said. “I’m positive, Applejack, that as his sister you only want what’s best for your brother and came to meet the mare he was involved with. Please feel free to ask me any questions you may have.” With a final tilt of her bowl, Octavia finished her soup and went to her mashed potatoes.
“That’s mighty gracious of ya, Octavia,” Applejack said. The waiter came by to take her order, and she asked for a sandwich, some fruit, and a slice of pie. The food came quickly, and soon Applejack was eating her fill. Macintosh held back a sigh and simply chewed on a lettuce leaf to distract himself from what was to come.
“So Octavia, you live in Canterlot right?” Applejack began. “If you two were gonna get married would ya move down to Sweet Apple Acres?”
Macintosh coughed violently as the lettuce leaf threatened to go down the wrong way. He quickly drank a glass of water and answered Applejack before Octavia could. “Ah think it’s a bit early to—”
“Best to get this stuff outta the way early on,” Applejack said. “If you get it all out on the table now then it won’t lead to problems once things get serious.” Macintosh glared at her but said nothing more. Applejack gave him a smile and turned back to the cellist. “You think of ever having foals, Octavia?” The plates and glasses clattered again, this time by the force of Macintosh’s hooves on the table. It was a reflex, anything to distract Applejack from going any further. When the mares stared at him he slowly removed his hooves and cleared his throat.
“Applejack, we ain’t—”
“I completely agree, Applejack,” Octavia interrupted. “It’s best to make our priorities clear.” She finished her mashed potatoes and pulled the caprese salad to her. “As for your questions, well,” she paused to take a bite from a slice of mozzarella, but as soon as it reached her mouth she spat it out in disgust and pounded a hoof on the table. “This isn’t buffalo mozzarella at all!” she cried out. “Excuse me, I need to go complain to the manager. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Uh, sure,” Applejack said, “but it seems a lot of trouble just for some cheese.”
“Nonsense,” Octavia said, “if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. Macintosh, would you come with me? I need an intimidating figure.”
“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, quickly realizing Octavia’s intentions. The two stood and fought through a crowd of ponies to get inside the restaurant. Octavia led him to a quiet corner near the facilities and turned to face him with a raised eyebrow.
“Octavia, Ah’m really sorry. Ah didn’t think—”
“Macintosh please,” Octavia said, raising a hoof to stop him. “You can either spend this time apologizing or we can use it to slip away. I saw an exit toward the back of the building. Shall we?”
Macintosh smiled. “Eeyup.”
-*-
“It’s peaceful here,” Octavia said as the gentle breeze caused her mane and tail to sway back and forth. “I’m surprised how much it smells like apples. I expected as much, but never so sweet and fragrant. I could write a suite to this smell.” Octavia took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “How many trees do you have? It seems like they go on forever.”
“Ain’t enough to tell ya,” Mac said with a smile. He led the way through the tree-lined path. “Ah know a good spot where you can see almost the whole farm.” Octavia tilted her head with interest and followed him. Mac stuck to the path only for a few feet and then turned into the orchard. His memory guided him along until they arrived at a large hill bare of any trees.
“You want me to carry yer cello?” Mac asked.
“No,” Octavia said, “and don’t even think abou—“
They were up the hill in no time, Octavia’s shrieks fading away across the orchard.
Once Octavia regained her footing and gave Mac a few half-terse words, she stood beside him and stared down at the huge expanse of apple trees below and around them. They stretched for what seemed like miles, and in their branches were hundreds upon thousands of apples, big and ripe and soon ready for harvesting. The wind blew through the tree limbs and filled the orchard with movement. The Apple family homestead and a few fields could be seen in the far off distance.
Octavia whistled at the expanse of greenery. “All of this is your farm?”
“Eeyup,” Mac said with a smile. “Spent my whole life here, and almost all of it working from sunrise to sundown.”
Octavia nodded absently. “I have to say, Macintosh, I’m really impressed. Honestly I thought the whole ‘rustic farmer’ was simply a persona you use to seduce mares.”
“Sorry to disappoint ya,” Mac said.
“So you’re taking a break from this and picking up painting?” Octavia asked, moving her gaze away from the trees and to Big Macintosh.
“Eeyup,” Mac said.
“It won’t work, you know,” Octavia said, going back to looking at the orchard. Her eyes took on a peculiar expression that Macintosh had never seen from her before. They were narrowed, almost a glare, but still soft with sadness. It only lasted a moment before she went back to her trademark smirk. “Obsessions can’t be displaced.”
Macintosh looked at her for a moment, wondering if he should pry. He decided not to. Her smug smile told him all that he needed to know. Whether it was a slip in her persona or if she meant for him to see that bit of vulnerability, the fact remained that it was a glimpse. Nothing more. So with a casual shrug he only said, “Worth a shot.”
She smiled at him. “Why the decision to take a break from your work?”
“My sister thought Ah was workin’ too hard, so I decided to take it easy.”
Octavia chuckled at him. “You decided, or your sister?”
“Big Mac!” Applejack’s yell turned both of their attention to the bottom of the hill where the farm mare was barreling up to them.
“Perfect timing,” Octavia said. “Watch this.” Her sneer made it absolutely clear that he didn’t want to watch whatever stunt she was about to pull.
“That was one mean trick!” Applejack shouted. She reached the top of the hill before Macintosh had a chance to dissuade Octavia. “Worse yet you dragged Octavia off before she could answer any of my questions.” She arrived a bit short of breath which gave Mac the best opportunity to control the conversation before either of the mares could make the situation uncomfortable.
“You deserved it,” Macintosh said, happy to let Applejack think it was his idea to leave her with the bill, “maybe that’ll teach ya to mind yer manners.”
“My manners?” Applejack spat, “last Ah checked dine ‘n dash ain’t exactly good etiquette.”
“Honestly, Macintosh,” Octavia added with a smirk, “just what were you thinking?” Macintosh tried his best not to visibly wince as Octavia took a step toward his sister. “So sorry, Applejack,” she said. “I just told Big Macintosh how much I wanted to see your farm, and one thing led to another.” Octavia shrugged, left it at that, and changed the subject. “I have to say the sheer size of your farm is very impressive.”
“Hey, thanks,” Applejack said, pride apparent in her voice. “Practically the largest apple farm in all of Equestria. Ah think so, anyway.” The edges of Mac’s mouth turned up into a cautious smile. This didn’t seem so bad after all. Heck, they might actually get along.
“I’m surprised Macintosh maintains it all by himself,” Octavia said. Mac attempted to correct her, but he wasn’t fast enough.
“Mac, you been telling her lies to impress her?” Applejack asked with a tilt of her head. He tried to answer, but Applejack apparently wasn’t looking for one. “Whatever he told ya, it ain’t true,” she said to Octavia. “Matter of fact, he’s been taking it easy lately. If anypony’s been workin’ hard it’s me.”
“Really?” Octavia said. She glared at Mac, but her subdued smile told him she was only playing a part. He didn’t know where this was going, but he certainly didn’t like the possibilities. “Macintosh, how dare you relax when your sister is working so hard? What kind of decent stallion would do such a thing? Is this how you’re going to act in our relationship?”
“Woah, hold on there Octavia,” Applejack said quickly. “It ain’t like that. Ah practically had to force him to not work so hard. He practically did all the hard labor ‘round here. Plowing, mowing, building, and clearing the orchard. It ain’t like he all up an’ decided to leave all the work for me.”
“I see. Sorry for jumping to conclusions. So you two split the duties fifty-fifty?”
“Well, not exactly,” Applejack said as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah’d say more eighty-five and fifteen.”
“Oh,” Octavia said. She patted a hoof against her chin. “But if I may ask, Applejack, why did you want him to work less? It can’t possibly be easy for you to maintain almost the entire farm all by yourself.”
“Ah ain’t doing it by myself. My little sister and grandma help out too. They take care of makin’ preserves and such with the apples. And Big Mac still does a couple things around the farm, just not as much as he’s used to.”
“But most of the hard labor falls on your shoulders?”
“Ah suppose so,” Applejack said. “But it ain’t a problem, Ah can handle it.”
“I see,” Octavia said, “but Applejack, isn’t it a little hypocritical to expect your brother to cut back on his work only for you to go and do the exact same thing you wished him not to do?” Little by little the sweetness and airiness of her voice soured and darkened. “I can’t imagine your reasons for asking him to take a break from farming, but I don’t believe the situation has been bettered, only reversed.”
“Uh, Ah,” Applejack stuttered, “well, Ah guess—”
“C’mon Octavia,” Macintosh said, drawing her eyes to him, “Ah wanna take ya somewhere before ya gotta go.”
Octavia shrugged and turned back to Applejack with a smile, her voice back to its previous sweetness. “Bye Applejack, it was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Uh, uh-huh,” Applejack mumbled. She stared at Octavia, no doubt wondering what had just happened. It was all the more reason for Macintosh to rush his farewell and lead Octavia through the orchard, leaving his sister far behind as they traveled through the apple trees.
“You were gonna call her out?” Macintosh asked.
“It just seemed strange to me,” Octavia said. “I wanted to dig into her motivations. She must have something to gain from doing this.”
“Applejack?” Big Mac said with a chuckle. “You know she’s the Element of Honesty, right? She ain’t the kind of pony to have some sorta ulterior motive.”
“Honesty has nothing to do with the truth,” she said. “She could believe that dogs come from eggs and so long as she believes it true then she could say such a thing honestly. Likewise, everypony has an ulterior motive to their actions, no matter how much they believe themselves to be altruistic.”
“That so?” he asked. “So what’s my ulterior motive for takin’ ya out on a date?”
“Same as mine for accepting: a release from boredom, fear of dying alone, showing off, sex, a free meal…well, I suppose that one doesn’t apply to you. Oh wait, I suppose it does,” she said with a smile.
“Kind of a cynical way to look at things,” Macintosh said. They were just exiting the farm, and Ponyville was bright with the light of early afternoon. He didn’t focus too much on it, and instead locked gazes with the mare beside him. “What about somethin’ like love? How’s that fit?”
“It’s not cynical, just realistic,” Octavia said. “And it’s not as if I don’t believe in love, but I prefer to think of it in biological terms rather than the metaphysical. Chemicals in the brain rather than feelings in the heart. All that ‘shnooky-wookims’, ‘one and only’ garbage makes me want to vomit.” They entered Ponyville, and she looked around at the buildings. “So where are you taking me?”
“Nowhere,” Mac said, “Ah just wanted to get outta there so we could talk and maybe get some time alone. So far this doesn’t feel like much of a date.”
“On the contrary, I’m enjoying myself. Are there any other ponies you don’t want me to meet? Perhaps other Elements of Harmony?” She saw the grimace on his face and chuckled. “Or we can talk about your sister. How long are you going to humor her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well she obviously wants to prove something to somepony, why else would she do so much work?” Octavia hummed in thought. “Macintosh, when you started working on the farm, did you do so alone?”
“For the first year or two Ah think. Applejack was a little young to help back then, not like Ah wanted her to work anyway. Far as Ah was concerned Ah wanted her as far away from farm work,” he said without much thought. “That didn’t really last long, though,” he added with a chuckle. “You sound like you got a theory.”
Octavia shrugged. “Perhaps this is her way of compensating for her uselessness back then, or maybe she sees this as a challenge against you. A way to see if she could have done the same if your roles were reversed.”
“Sounds like a nice guess,” Mac said, “but there’s no reason she’s gotta think she’s in my debt or something. Heck, if it wasn’t for her there’d be no farm to take care of. If anything Ah owe her for all the times she’s pulled through for Sweet Apple Acres’ sake.”
“Do you have any ideas then?” Octavia asked, a challenge more than anything. Macintosh only shrugged, but she saw right through it. “You do, don’t you? Well then spit it out.” Mac stayed quiet and after a few minutes Octavia gave up on waiting and narrowed her eyes at him. “Well whatever your theory, I actually have a very elegant solution to all of this.”
“Do ya now?”
“That I do,” Octavia said. “Try to keep up, I’ll be using very complex concepts. Why don’t you two simply divide the work equally amongst yourselves? There, problem solved.”
Macintosh smiled. “Yer one heck of a genius, Octavia.”
“I know,” she said, “but it’s still nice when a pony says it out loud.” She gave him a smirk and sauntered ahead of him, adding a bit of sashay to her walk. Macintosh watched her for a few seconds until he managed to regain his focus with a shake of his head. He caught up to her with a trot, and the two silently walked down the cobblestones with no real destination in mind.
Macintosh had to admit, splitting the work evenly sounded like an obvious solution, but he didn’t think it was that simple. Nowadays his workload was decided by Applejack. She gave him the list of chores for the day and he did them, usually taking him a couple of hours. The only way for the work to be split even would be for him to do more, and every time he tried to get Applejack to give him more work, well, it didn’t go so well.
“Do you do that often?” Octavia suddenly asked.
Macintosh blinked and met her gaze. “Do what?”
“Stare off into nothing like a bird about to take flight.”
“Ah guess it’s just what I look like when Ah’m thinking,” Macintosh said. He had never heard himself be described like that before. He didn’t even know birds had a certain look before flying. But if he thought about it then—
“There. You’re doing it again,” Octavia said. By her smile, Macintosh knew she was only teasing him. He smiled back, and they continued their walk. She stepped a little closer to him, their sides almost touching. Macintosh didn’t mind. In fact, he started walking a bit closer to her as well.
“I’ll tell you one thing, Macintosh,” Octavia said. “If you want her to give you back your job, then find out her true, perhaps subconscious, reason for doing so and then use it against her.”
“And how should Ah go about doin’ that?” Mac asked.
“I could teach you how to do it if you like.”
“No thanks,” Mac said. “Me doin’ that sorta thing would be like you playin’ a game of tag.”
Octavia quirked an eyebrow at him. “And just what makes you think I wouldn’t play tag?”
Macintosh shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the type of mare. Ah don’t blame ya. You look pretty slow on your hooves.”
Octavia only smiled and trotted up a few steps ahead. She looked back at him with a smirk before taking a few more steps forward. Mac smiled and chased after her. Maybe she had a point. It would be nice to know exactly why Applejack was keeping him from working more. At first it was about him working too hard, but he had realized his mistake and was willing to work less. Now it seemed that she was keeping him from working just for the sake of it. He wanted to know what she was thinking, but Celestia knows she wouldn’t tell him straight.
Maybe there was another way to find out.
-*-
“Have you kissed her yet?”
Macintosh rolled his eyes at yet another one of Rarity’s questions. “No, Rarity,” he said, focusing on the blank canvas in front of him. He picked up his pencil in his mouth and tried to start the first line of the outline of a nearby apple tree. He needed to make sure this line, the line of the trunk, was exactly perfect. It would be what all succeeding lines were angled on. If he got this line wrong then he would get his draft wrong. Slowly, he brought the sharp point of the pencil lead onto his pad of paper.
“I see,” Rarity said, turning back to her own pad of paper on the ground. A pencil, eraser, and a stick of charcoal floated in the air around her. “And may I ask how many dates you two have been on?”
“Three,” Macintosh said, lifting the pencil away without leaving a mark. All this talk wasn’t helping his concentration. He dropped the pencil and picked up a piece of charcoal instead. “And we already told ya that we’re taking it slow.”
“I know,” Rarity continued, “but there’s taking things slow and there’s being afraid of commitment. No offense to Octavia, of course, but have you ever thought that she isn’t the type to settle down.”
Macintosh blew a strand of his mane out of his face. “You know, Rarity, my uncle used to say ‘Never trust a mare to lead ya when there’s a stallion in her line of sight.’”
“That seems awfully sexist,” Rarity remarked.
“Not really,” Macintosh said. “Ah always thought the opposite was true too.”
“Be that as it may, I’m just looking out for a dear friend,” Rarity said. “It isn’t as if I have some ulterior motive.”
Macintosh smiled as he remembered his conversation with Octavia. He rolled his charcoal between his front hooves, smearing them with deep black marks. “Rarity, have Ah ever told you what a nice shade of white yer coat is?” he asked.
“Oh?” Rarity said, taken aback. “Well, no, Macintosh. I appreciate the compliment.”
“Eeyup,” he said. “It’s almost the same shade of white as this piece of paper.” He smiled as Rarity’s eyes went to his now blackened hooves, one of them raised in the air between her and Macintosh.
“You wouldn’t,” Rarity said, giving him a hard glare.
“Do what?” Macintosh asked innocently. He wiped his hooves on the grass, but it didn’t do anything to ease Rarity’s glare. With a huff, she turned back to her work.
“Well excuse me for looking out for your wellbeing,” she said. “All I’m saying Macintosh is that you should be aware of possible problems in the relationship. I don’t think it would be as uncomplicated as you may hope it to be. For example, are you two monogamous during your ‘testing the water’ phase?”
Macintosh shrugged. “Ah don’t know, and honestly Ah don’t think its worth worryin’ about. Ah don’t wanna think about this too much.”
“Macintosh, sweetie, if there’s anything you should really think about it’s a relationship. What if you two aren’t compatible? What if you want different things? What if—”
“Rarity, you could ‘what if’ this into the ground,” he said. “It feels like Ah’ve been doing nothing but thinkin’ and worryin’ for the past few months. Ah’m done trying to figure things out. All Ah wanna do is just relax and have a bit of fun. Maybe get my mind off the farm like Applejack wanted.”
“That makes sense, I suppose,” Rarity said with a smirk. “There’s nothing like a mare to distract a stallion.”
“Don’t gotta tell me,” Macintosh said with a smile. “Ah’ve been distracted by mares since Spring. Ah really gotta find friends that are stallions or at least get into a fight or two. Haven’t broken a bone in a while.”
Rarity chuckled. “How about you focus on your drawing for now. Remember, learning to draw is less about learning to manipulate your tools, and more about learning how to see what’s right in front of you.”
“Ah think Ah can see just fine, Rarity,” Macintosh said dryly.
“Oh hush,” Rarity scoffed. “I’m being serious.”
Macintosh shrugged, settled down, and went back to his empty piece of paper. It only took a couple of minutes of staring at the tree for Macintosh to understand exactly what Rarity meant. He could see the apple tree as clear as day, but when he tried to recreate it on a piece of paper he failed miserably. He spent ten minutes just trying to accurately represent the curve of a trunk, though he never got it just right. First he drew it too steep, then too shallow, then too steep again.
Mac dropped his charcoal. “Guess Ah just need more practice.” He stared at the only line on his pad of paper amongst a small pile of eraser residue. He sighed at his lack of skill and turned to Rarity, who gave him an encouraging smile. It didn’t help matters. “Maybe I just ain’t cut out for this.”
“It’s only your first lesson,” Rarity said, rubbing his shoulder. “Give it time.” She brought a hoof to her chin and thought for a few moments before continuing. “Let’s take a break.”
Macintosh nodded. He looked over his shoulder at the apple tree behind him, then looked upwards to a couple of ripe apples hanging just above. One precise kick was enough for a couple of apples to fall and land on the soft grass right in front of him and Rarity. With a small grunt he rested on his stomach and stared at his apple. Maybe he would have an easier time drawing it. It seemed simple enough, simpler than drawing an entire tree at least.
The scratching sound of pencil on paper made his ear twitch, but he otherwise ignored it. Rarity was no doubt continuing her drawing. Fine by him, he didn’t feel like talking anyway. Instead he continued to stare at his apple, trying to trace every contour with his eyes. Over and over again until he was sure he could draw the apple with his eyes closed. He was about to pick up his pencil to try just that when Rarity pushed her drawing toward him.
A rendering of his image in graphite greeted his eyes, an exact replica of his pose while staring at the apple. The intricate shading impressed him most. Rarity even captured the gleam of his eyes as they stared at the piece of fruit. It surprised him how much effort she put into drawing him in such a small amount of time.
“Well,” Rarity said with a giggle, “I did say I would paint you one day, didn’t I? Granted, this is only pencil, but I think it’s good practice. I think I’ll call it ‘Mid-day’.” She smiled and levitated the sketch in front of her eyes. She tilted her head and frowned, just slightly. “Tell me, Macintosh, what do you expect from your relationship with Octavia?”
“Rarity…”
“I’m only curious,” Rarity said with an innocent smile. The sketch floated softly to the ground, and Rarity fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I know you don’t want to think of the particulars, but surely you have a hope of how things between you develop. Where do you want it to go?”
Macintosh rolled his eyes but answered her anyway. “Ah honestly don’t know, Rarity,” he said. “All Ah know is that Ah have fun when Ah’m talking to her, and Ah want to get to know her better, and every time she looks at me she’s got a glint in her eye like she’s daring me to stump that wit of hers. Ah’m gettin’ close to doin’ just that; Ah know it.”
“Really?” Rarity said. “And what do you think when I look at you.”
“If we had foals would they turn out pink,” he said.
Rarity lowered her eyelids. “That’s not funny, Macintosh.”
“Ah’m sorry Rarity, but havin’ pink foals is an important life decision. Pink ain’t an easy color to pull off. Sure Pinkie Pie looks cute with it, but she’s a hard act to follow.”
“Nonsense,” Rarity said. “If they were my foals they would be able to pull off any color their coat and mane may be. I would make sure of it.”
They both had a good chuckle and Macintosh again tried to draw his apple. “It’s gonna take a lot of practice for me to get any kind of good at this,” he said.
“It’ll take time,” Rarity said. “You can’t expect skill and talent to develop overnight.” She stood up with a stretch. “I should be getting back to Carousel Boutique. I have a pile of work that needs to be done. What do you say, Macintosh? Same time the day after tomorrow? That would give you plenty of time to practice.”
“Sounds good, Rarity,” Macintosh said absently, making his first line of his paper. He darted his head up when a thought suddenly came to him. “Before ya go, Rarity. Have you talked to Applejack lately?”
“Of course, I was talking with her just yesterday about Rainbow Dash and her recent training schedule,” Rarity said. “Why do you ask?”
“Ah was wonderin’ whether she said anything about me...and the farm,” Mac said. He focused back on his sketchpad in an attempt to look disinterested in her answer. It didn’t fool her, and Mac felt his cheeks grow hotter when Rarity pressed her cheek against his.
“I thought you said you were done trying to figure things out,” she said with a smile. “There’s no need to worry. I’m sure Applejack only has your best interest at heart. You’ve changed so much for the better. No need to spoil it now.” Macintosh sighed and gave her a nod, unwilling to argue her point. Rarity gave him a peck on the cheek. “If that’s settled then I should get going. Good luck, Macintosh, and take your time.”
“Always do,” he said. She gave him a nod, levitated her pencil, pad, and apple, and headed to the farmstead where the path to Ponyville awaited her. Mac watched her go, and decided to put the conversation out of his mind in favor of drawing his apple. He picked up a piece of charcoal, heeded Rarity’s advice, and took his time. No small detail escaped his eyes.
The sun hovered closer and closer to the horizon as Mac’s drawing tools made hesitant marks and his eraser made his mistakes disappear. Finally, after a few hours, he was done. He pushed his sketchbook away, and placed the apple beside it to better judge his drawing. The top half was drawn at an entirely different angle than the bottom, probably caused when he moved the apple to get a better feel for the shape. His shading was rough as well. Too much gray, he decided. The highlights weren’t all that bright, and the shadows weren’t all that dark.
Macintosh shook his head and flipped to the next page. He touched pencil to paper and started doodling, no real intent in mind. Things certainly have changed, haven’t they? He couldn’t even remember the last time he tucked his sister in. Mac smiled. Definitely a long, long time ago. Before his injury, before even the Elements of Harmony, before Applejack got her cutie mark. Big Mac looked down at his sketchpad, and found that in all his reminiscing he had drawn a crude representation of Applejack, back when she was a little filly. She stood there, hatless and happy. Mac sighed, and turned the page. That was enough drawing for one day.
He ate the apple—enjoying a bit of spiteful joy as he ate—and loaded his supplies on his back before heading back home. All in all, drawing seemed like a good way to waste time, though he wasn’t sure if it would go anywhere. Now he had to figure out what to do with the rest of the day and some of the night. Maybe he could do something a bit more physically demanding, something that would ensure a good night’s sleep.
As he came to the porch the front door opened and Rainbow Dash stepped through. They stared at each other for a few seconds, Macintosh waiting for her to speak first as she often did. She didn’t, and instead only looked at wherever Mac’s eyes weren’t. It reminded him of the small competitions of silence they had when they first got to really know each other. Finally, Mac decided to break the silence.
“Lookin’ better than when ya went through my window.” It was the truth. Her mane didn’t look as unkempt, though still uncombed as always. Her coat looked a lot softer and cleaner as well. “Smell better too,” he added.
“Uh, yeah, Applejack let me use your shower after I woke up,” she said before kicking the door close with a hindleg. “Uh, sorry for falling asleep on your bed.”
Mac chuckled. “Ain’t like ya to worry about a little thing like that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dash said, “but Applejack talked to me, and I figured I should probably say sorry or something.” She shrugged her shoulders and walked down the stairs. “I guess it wasn’t a good idea to pretend I spent the night, but you should’ve seen the look on her face,” she laughed quietly, and Macintosh gave her a small smile. “So you want to hang out or something? Maybe watch me train?”
Macintosh walked beside her as she headed to one of the empty fields of grass nearby. The Apple family always made sure to maintain a couple of fields in case two certain mares wanted to go head to head in a contest of strength and skill. It happened quite often.
“Ah rather train with ya,” Mac said. “Ah’ve done enough watching for the day.” An idea suddenly struck him and a smirk crept onto his face. “How ‘bout we race?”
Dash’s wings twitched at his proposal. She narrowed his eyes at him. “A race, huh? Name your terms.”
“A runnin’ race, of course,” he said. “Five laps around Sweet Apple Acres.” Dash’s eyes widened for just a second before a more cocky expression took over. Mac easily saw past her bravado. Sweet Apple Acres was several miles around, and five laps would be no easy feat. If it was one lap then Dash would easily win with her speed, but with five laps endurance became an important factor to winning. Suddenly the odds were a bit more even.
“Alright, let’s do it. Where do we start?” Dash asked.
Macintosh led the way to a dirt path. It was the same one that led to Ponyville, but a fork nearby branched toward a particularly thick section of the apple orchard. He pointed to it. “You take that path and it takes ya all around the orchard.” He drew a line on the ground. “This’ll be our startin’ and finish line.” Already Dash was crouched at the line, ready to go. Mac smiled, dropped his sketchbook and pencil, and crouched at the line as well. “You ready to lose?” he teased.
“I can beat you in my sleep,” Dash said.
“You could only beat me in yer sleep,” Mac said. “In yer dreams.”
“Big talk, Big Mac, let’s see if you can back it up. Go!”
They were off.
Dash took an early lead, as what was expected, but it didn’t shake Mac’s confidence. Not even when she was just a speck in his vision. The first lap wasn’t even halfway done; he needed to pace himself. Even so, he made sure to never lose sight of her. Last thing he needed was for her to put an entire lap between them.
The air rushed through his mane and cooled the sweat on his body. His thoughts were immersed in loud hoof-beats. The whistle of wind. The smell of apples. The rustling of leaves. The golden light of the late day sun. They all came together and painted the perfect afternoon.
Dash looked over her shoulder and smirked at the gap between her and Mac. He didn’t mind, the race had just begun. It was much too early to get cocky, and Mac still felt good enough to run a hundred miles. He made sure to stay behind her at all times, keeping the same distance between them and letting her think she held a commanding lead. All the while he was conserving energy.
But he wasn’t completely impervious to the strain. Once the first lap was completed the constant running started to get to him. His breath became haggard and his joints began to ache, but he pressed on. His suffering didn’t seem so bad when he noticed that Dash was starting to slow down as well. He kept to his strategy.
The fifth lap came as the sun dipped down below the horizon, and it was during the last couple hundred yards that Macintosh made his move. He galloped as fast as he could and slowly caught up to Dash until he was right beside her. Dash wasn’t about to give up her lead and ran ahead by just a hair. She smirked at him, and he gave her one in return. They gave each other hard stares, trying to psych the other one out. Mac couldn’t help but notice how bright her eyes shone.
Neither of them saw Twilight walking on the path.
The collision was a mass of hooves, manes, books, and tools all tumbling over each other amongst yelps and shouts of surprise and pain. Once the dust settled Macintosh was covered in dirt, books, and a rather large metal instrument that resembled an amalgam of a telescope, a drafting compass, and a sliding protractor. He was on his back and on top of Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle, both groaning from his weight. He quickly rolled away and helped both mares up to their hooves.
“Y’all okay?” he asked, patting the dirt off of his coat. They both assured him they were fine, though stumbled a bit as they tried to keep on all fours. Twilight adjusted the strap on her saddlebags and levitated her books and metal gadget. Thankfully nothing was damaged, only dirty.
“Sorry, Twi,” Dash said. “Me and Mac were racing and we didn’t see you.”
“It’s alright, Dash. I should really stop reading and walking at the same time,” she said with a smile.
“So what brings ya to Sweet Apple Acres, Miss Sparkle?” Macintosh asked.
“Stargazing,” Twilight said, “I can see a lot more stars the farther from Ponyville I get. There’s a lot less light out here. Hey, you guys want to join me? I would really like some company to talk to.”
“Sure, I’m in,” Dash said. “As soon as I finish my race with Mac.”
“What’s to finish?” he asked, pointing to the ground. To Dash’s horror, Mac was past their finish line—barely visible through their hoof-prints—and she was not. “Ah won.”
“Hey wait, but Twilight got in the way! I want a rematch.”
“Don’t be a sore loser now,” Mac said with a smile. “’Fraid the race really tuckered me out and looking at the stars sounds mighty peaceful. You mind if Ah come along, Twilight?”
“Of course you can,” Twilight said. “Actually, I was wondering if you knew any good spots to stargaze. Something away from any bright lights or any trees that could obstruct our view.”
“Ah know just the spot.”
“I still want a rematch,” Dash said with a scowl.
Mac smiled. “How ‘bout instead Ah share with ya the last bottle of applejack Ah got?”
“Applejack?” Twilight asked.
Dash’s frown softened a bit. “It’s a start,” she said. “I’m pretty tired too, you know. Not sure if I can walk all the way to a stargazing spot.”
“Is Applejack coming too?”
Macintosh didn’t mention her wings, which seemed to be in tip top shape. “Well if ya don’t mind all the sweat yer welcome to hitch a ride on my back.”
“Like that’ll stop me,” Dash said with a smile. With a flap of her wings she took to the air only to land on Mac’s back. He grunted at the new weight, but quickly recovered. He took his sketchpad and pencil and handed it to her to carry.
“So where are you hiding your applejack this time?” Dash asked.
“Will someone answer my question? Why do you guys keep talking about Applejack?” Twilight asked.
“Not Applejack the pony,” Dash said with a laugh. “The drink she’s named after.”
“A drink? Is it made with apples?”
“Eeyup,” Mac said. He started to lead them to his favorite stargazing spot as he spoke. “You can have some too, Twilight. It’s a bit of work to make it, so Ah like to hide it where Applejack and Granny Smith can’t get to it. You wouldn’t believe how fast applejack disappears around those two. It’s a family favorite. Heck it’s why my dad named Applejack Applejack. Least that’s how the story goes.”
“Wow, it must be delicious,” Twilight said.
“It sure is,” Dash said.
Macintosh suddenly stopped beside an apple tree, almost indistinguishable from the others. He went to the base of the trunk and started to dig. Soon he revealed a small burrow that hid his last bottle of applejack. He took it out, cool to the touch, and gave it to Dash who took it gladly. He then went back to retrieve three squat glasses and gave them for Twilight to levitate.
“Pretty lucky that there’s three,” Dash said.
“Ain’t luck. Ah always hide a few glasses in my hiding places. Six with cider, four with applejack. Mostly for family reunions. Ya never know when a couple of cousins want to drink and talk in peace without little ones beggin’ for a sip. But seein’ as how this here’s my last bottle, Ah’m gonna have to ask my cousins to bring their own.”
“Sorry,” Dash said.
“Don’t worry about it, sugarcube,” Mac said. “Rather share it with friends than cousins Ah only see once a year. C’mon, my stargazin’ spot ain’t too far from here.”
Macintosh continued to lead them until they came upon the same large hill that he had taken Octavia to earlier in the day.
“Hey Mac,” Dash said, “When’s the next Apple family reunion anyway? Isn’t it held about this time of year?”
“Eeyup,” Mac said. “RSVPs are already comin’ in. It’s all set to be held here in about a week.”
“A week?” Twilight said. “That doesn’t give you a lot of time to prepare.”
“It’s plenty,” he said. “Not a lot of ponies are comin’ this year. Least not as much as we’ve had in years past. We should be all right.”
Once the trio arrived at the top they settled down. Twilight picked a spot to rest on her stomach and opened and spread her books all around her. Macintosh followed suit and took a spot near Twilight, and Dash slid off his back to sit between them.
Dash handed him the bottle of applejack and started blowing the dirt off of the glasses with her wings. Macintosh unscrewed the bottle’s cap and began pouring out generous amounts. Dash gave Twilight a glass and then took a good sip from her own. Macintosh did the same.
Not wanting to be left behind, Twilight took a sip as well and immediately started coughing from the strength of the drink. Dash held back a laugh and patted her friend on the back until her coughing fit ended. “Why didn’t you tell me it was alcoholic?” Twilight asked, her eyes watering.
“It was funnier this way,” Dash said. “I know you don’t drink much, but try some more. It’s really good, you just gotta get past the burn.”
Twilight stared at her glass, contemplating whether to take another sip. She tipped the glass and took a much smaller amount of the amber liquid. She grimaced for a moment but then found the taste and smiled, just a little. “I guess it’s not that bad.”
“So what are you doing staring at stars for anyway?” Dash asked, taking another sip.
“I wanted to try making a star chart for fun. See? I even brought a sextant.” She levitated her gadget and Mac could clearly see the small eye piece a pony was supposed to look through as well as the moving parts meant to fine tune measurements. Dash, meanwhile, giggled at the name of the instrument.
“A what-tant?” Dash asked.
“Sex. It’s a sex—“ Twilight covered her mouth as a blush started to tinge her cheeks. She glared at Dash, but it only succeeded in making the pegasus laugh harder. Mac couldn’t help but smile, even if the joke was a bit less than clever. He took another taste of his drink and quietly looked up at the twinkling dots of light.
Meanwhile Twilight and Dash started their own conversation, mostly about their friends. How Rarity seemed a bit distracted lately, how Pinkie Pie had been hit by a pretty bad flu bug, and how Fluttershy was diligently caring for her while the Cakes tended to Sugarcube Corner and the twins, and how Applejack busied herself with preparations for the coming Fall.
The bottle of applejack was slowly taken of its contents as the night wore on. Mac and Dash did most of the work, while Twilight only had her single glass. It didn’t take long for the mixture of alcohol, the waning night, and her sleep deprivation over the last few days to take its toll on Dash. With a loud yawn she leaned against Mac, ready to fall asleep.
“Looks like it’s time to turn in,” he said.
“You kidding?” Dash asked, “we’re only halfway through the bottle.” Despite her words, she fell asleep soon after. Mac smiled and wondered if she was actually sleeping. It wouldn’t be the first time she was faking it.
He looked over at Twilight and held a hoof to his lips. Slowly, he stroked her forelock until it was nice and tidy. Twilight giggled, but even that wasn’t enough to wake the pegasus. Upping the ante, Mac pointed to the tie around his mane and then to Dash’s mane, and Twilight immediately understood. She took the band out of his hair with her magic and fitted it on Dash. She looked pretty good with a ponytail.
“She’s a really deep sleeper,” Twilight said with a giggle. Macintosh nodded though didn’t reveal his suspicions. Her smile suddenly vanished as she looked closely at Dash’s face. “She’s been training nonstop for days. I’m really worried about her.”
“Applejack said pretty much the same,” Mac said. “When we went to the airshow we got to meet Spitfire and Soarin. They gave her a pretty…honest critique about her flying.”
“No wonder she’s been training so hard,” Twilight said, sighing softly. “I know Applejack’s talked to her about overtraining, but you know Dash.” Her eyes suddenly brightened with an idea and a smile crossed her face. “Hey, that’s it! You know Dash. Maybe you can convince her to take a break.”
“You sure that’s, uh,” Mac stuttered, trying to pick his words carefully. The last thing he wanted was to get into some debate about when it was appropriate for ponies to get into their friends’ business. He turned up nothing and so, after failing that endeavor, he decided to simply weasel out of it. “Ah mean, y’all know her better than me. If her best friends can’t change her mind then what hope do Ah got?”
“You’re selling yourself short, Macintosh,” Twilight said. “Sure you haven’t been friends for as long, but she really admires you. Just yesterday, when she crashed on my balcony, she said that if she was half as strong and determined as you she would already be a Wonderbolt.”
Mac quirked an eyebrow at Twilight before his gaze fell on Rainbow Dash sleeping next to him. “She must’ve been pretty down on herself if she said that,” Mac said. It was the only way he could ever imagine the cocky mare admitting any shortcomings.
“I’m not sure, but she did look completely exhausted. So will you talk to her?” Twilight asked.
“Eeyup,” Mac said, holding back a sigh. He stared up at the stars and hoped that he could spend a few minutes in silence. All the while he kept thinking of what he would say to Dash, and when he would say it. The sooner the better, he decided. “Guess Ah’ll talk to her when Ah walk her home.”
“Thanks Macintosh,” Twilight said. “I should get home too.” She remained still, however, and looked through her sextant up at the stars. Macintosh wondered if she really planned to go home anytime soon. He gently nudged Dash’s shoulder and stirred her awake. Her eyes fluttered open, and with a groan she buried her face into his coat, refusing to get up.
“C’mon, it’s time to get ya home,” he said firmly.
Dash gave him a grunt and, without a word, climbed on top of his back. Big Mac rolled his eyes, but didn’t even attempt to shake her off. He stood up and said goodbye to Twilight before walking in the direction of Dash’s house.
“Say Dash,” he said to the pegasus on his back, hoping to keep her awake with a bit of conversation. “Has Applejack talked to ya lately, besides today Ah mean?”
Dash snorted at the name of one of her best friends. “Sure she has, she won’t shut up. ‘Dash don’t train so dang hard’, ‘Yer gonna get yerself hurt, Rainbow’. If that wasn’t bad enough now she’s got all our friends against me too. Fluttershy, and Rarity, and Twilight. At least Pinkie’s too sick to tell me anything.”
Macintosh nodded. “Eeyup, Twilight and Applejack’s been tellin’ me how much you’ve been training too,” he said. The breeze started to pick up, and the air filled with the quiet croon of the wind as it traveled through the branches. There was no moon tonight, and so the stars shone brilliantly against the black expanse of sky partially visible through the canopy of leaves.
“Are you going to tell me to stop too?” Dash asked, her grip around his neck weakening.
Macintosh stared at the grass for a few seconds until, finally, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No, Ah ain’t.” He could feel her weight shift as she perked up from his answer.
“Y-you sure?” she asked.
Macintosh found the path that would lead them to her house, but he stayed beside it. He wanted to keep the feel of grass on his hooves. “Dash, Ah know what’s it’s like to want something. Want something so much you’d break every bone in your body to get it. So much that yer willin’ to work all day and night just to get a little closer to it. So much that the words ponies use to stop ya—words like ‘obsession’, ‘exhaustion’, and ‘stupidity’—start soundin’ less like words of concern and more like excuses so they can tell you how to live your life.”
Macintosh took another deep breath to quell the heat burning his throat, and waited for Dash to say something. She didn’t say a word, but her grip around his neck tightened and her nose pressed against the back of his neck, so he decided to continue. “But those ponies honestly love ya, and care for ya, and only want ya to be happy, and sometimes they’re the only ones that can knock some sense into ya.”
Dash’s home appeared in the far-off distance, and Macintosh paused again. He wanted desperately for her to say something, anything. At least then he wouldn’t feel as if he was rambling to the air. Still, her forelegs around his neck was more than enough for him to keep going, if reluctantly. Before he could open his mouth, however, Dash finally spoke.
“What would you do if you were me?” she asked. Her voice was quiet and soft. “I don’t want my friends to worry about me, but if I don’t train harder then I’ll never get into the Wonderbolts.”
“What Ah would do, huh?” Macintosh hummed. “If Ah were you Ah’d wake up, have a big breakfast, start training, and never, ever stop.”
“Is that what you want me to do?” Dash asked.
“Nnope,” Big Mac said as the pair finally arrived at Dash’s house. He shook himself and managed to plop Rainbow Dash beside him. “Ah want ya to take it easy so ya got time to hang out with yer friends. Especially me, so Ah ain’t gotta feel bored outta my skull all the time.” His words didn’t seem to cheer Dash up, instead she looked at the ground for a few moments until she stood, walked up to him, and gently struck her forelock against his chest.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said.
Mac tried to smile, truly he did, but all he could do was wrap a hoof around her in a hug. “Sugarcube, Ah wish Ah could tell ya, but I don’t know the answer. So far, Ah think the only thing to do is what feels right. Long as you do that everything is gonna be okay.” Dash didn’t say a word and only stood on her back legs and wrapped her forelegs around his neck in a hug, her head leaning against his. They stayed there for a few minutes. Macintosh didn’t mind, allowing her as much time as she needed.
“You’re the best, Mac,” Dash said, releasing her hug. She took a couple steps back and gave him a smile. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” Mac said. “Yer cuter with a smile anyway. Best to get some sleep now.” Dash nodded and with a last goodbye she took to the air and went inside her cloud home. Mac saw her go before walking back to the farm. He didn’t get far before he felt something light hit the back of his head. It fell to the floor where Mac recognized it as the hairband he and Twilight tied around Dash’s mane.
“I still want that rematch,” Dash’s voice called down from her house. Her head poked out from behind the cloud. Mac smiled and gave her a nod, and Dash vanished inside her home once again. He was alone for now and he was glad for that at least. It certainly had been a busy day. A date, a drawing lesson, a race, and stargazing, all right after the other. Not exactly his usual doings, that was for sure.
Macintosh sighed as a cool breeze blew through the outskirts of the farm. Without meaning to he found himself back at the stargazing hill. Twilight was still at the top looking through her sextant at the stars. He had to go up there to fetch his sketching supplies and the bottle of applejack anyway, so Mac decided to head up the hill, not minding the possibility for conversation. For once, he actually wanted to talk to her.
“Did you talk to her?” Twilight asked, setting down her instrument. Macintosh nodded. “What did she say?”
“She needed to think about it,” Mac said simply. Twilight opened her mouth to ask more, but decided against it. She looked back at the stars. Big Mac decided that now was as good a time as any to ask a question he had been pondering for a while. “Twilight, do you think a pony can change who they are?”
“Sure a pony can change,” Twilight said happily. “Take you for example. I can’t imagine you asking me a question like that a couple of months ago.”
Macintosh smiled despite himself. No truer words were ever spoken. He shifted his weight for a few seconds, and looked up at the sky and the stars above. He noted the constellations he knew, and went through the stories of the ponies associated with each. A couple of them were members of the Apple family—if Granny Smith was to be believed. All the while Twilight looked at the same stars through her sextant. After each gaze she took notes and drew some lines and dots on a sheet of paper.
“So you think Dash is training too hard?” Big Mac asked.
“Of course I do,” Twilight said. “Applejack noticed first. Apparently Dash crashed through the barn when Applejack was clearing out straw. She tried to tell Dash to take a rest, but she wouldn’t listen. So she asked the rest of us if we could talk to her, but...well no luck.”
“What did Applejack tell you?” Mac asked.
Twilight tapped her chin in thought. “Applejack said she was worried about her, and that she was working herself to death just like…you…” Twilight trailed off and looked up at the stars without her sextant. Macintosh looked up as well. They were silent for several minutes until finally Twilight sighed and looked at him. “Applejack loves her friends and family, Macintosh,” she said.
“Ah know,” Mac said.
“I better get home,” Twilight said. “It’s getting kind of late.” She stood up with a stretch and started gathering her things into her saddlebags. Macintosh nodded and stood as well. The sun had set a few hours ago. Applebloom and Granny Smith would be in bed by now, and Applejack was probably getting ready to hit the hay herself.
“I’ll walk with you,” Macintosh said.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ve been practicing my teleportation spell, specifically my range. I’m pretty sure I could get to my house without a problem.” Her horn glinted briefly before the light grew stronger and enveloped her horn. “Bye, Macintosh. It was fun.”
“Eeyup,” Macintosh said with a smile. Twilight disappeared in a flash of light, but Macintosh didn’t move for a few moments. Just in case she had teleported to the wrong place and came back. When he did head toward the farmstead, it was with his drawing supplies balancing on his back.
He didn’t head directly home at first and opted instead to take a quick look around the farm. The fields with summer vegetables were weeded and watered. Windfall apples were nowhere to be found, cleared and gathered and on their way to become applesauce. The grass was mowed and the last of the season’s apples were gone from their storage, no doubt sold. There was, however, one field that remained unplowed and barren, and it sat right beside Woody the Tree. Macintosh spent quite a while staring at the untilled dirt, deciding just what to do. In the end he walked away and went home. Despite that one field, Applejack was doing a diligent job of maintaining and caring for the farm. He couldn’t help but be proud.
When he entered the farmstead he found it as cool and breezy as outside. Almost all of the house’s windows were open to make sure the house didn’t get too stuffy. It was quiet inside except for the subtle clinks of glass coming from the kitchen, so that was where he went. Applejack was in the middle of making a sandwich. Cheese, onions, tomatoes, and various condiments surrounded a plate holding two slices of bread. Two eggs, sunny-side up, sizzled on the stove. Applejack herself still had her hair ties and hat on.
“Pretty big sandwich for a midnight snack,” Macintosh said with a smile.
Applejack smiled back, though less enthusiastically. She could hardly keep her eyes open. “It’s more of a late dinner,” she said. “Ah’m just gonna eat and start plowing that last field out by that tree that looks like it got hit by a train.”
“Ya look awfully tired, sugarcube,” Mac said gently. “Ah could do the field while you get to bed. It ain’t like it would be any trouble for me.”
“Thanks, Mac, but Ah can handle it,” she said before retrieving the eggs and turning off the stove. With a flick of her head she launched the eggs to land perfectly on the waiting slices of bread. “You had a big day, so go ahead and get some sleep.”
He nodded and went out of the kitchen to head upstairs. Mac knew full well that rehashing the same old issue wouldn’t do him any good. Now he had to think of how to get to sleep. He didn’t feel tired at all. In fact, he felt like he could run another five laps around Sweet Apple Acres. Maybe he could go see Dash and schedule that rematch for tonight.
The thought was quickly forgotten as Mac opened his bedroom door and was greeted by a wave of heat. Unlike the rest of the house, his window remained closed causing the room to become hot and stuffy. He quickly opened his window and left the door open, allowing air to circulate. Now, on top of everything else, he had to try to get some sleep in this heat as well.
He sighed as he looked at his neatly made bed, wondering who had fixed his sheets since he had left the farmstead that morning. It wasn’t just the heat and his untapped energy that would make it difficult to sleep. As soon as he closed that door, enveloping his room in darkness and silence, his doubt and confusion would well up, and his mind would race as it tried to think of a solution. He needed something to fill the air, something he could really concentrate on so that nothing else could intrude upon his mind.
Macintosh looked around the room, and his eyes stopped at his closet’s handle. Could he? It had been so long, too long, but maybe now was as good a time as ever to fetch the old thing. He opened his closet and the trunk inside it and grabbed the small yet thick wooden box with the windup key. In the past, seeing this box always filled him with bad memories, but maybe now it could bring him some comfort.
His mother’s singing always had that effect on him.
Carefully, Mac placed the wooden box on the floor and rested on his stomach in front of it. He opened its hinged lid, and he could see the small, delicate teeth of the music box, the spring that powered it, and the governor that controlled it. The assembly was dusty, but free of rust. It would play just as it was meant to without a doubt. Big Mac wound the key and pulled it away to let the music start.
The bass notes rang clearly first. A two part pattern of note-chord-note-chord. Smooth and steady like a heartbeat. Low and then just a bit higher. The melody came in a few bars later. It was in the upper range, and its rounded sound resonated proudly. It was a serene melody, relaxed as it flew into the highs before coming down into the midtones. And yet, there was something sad about that melody. A small bit of dissonance that colored the bright rings.
The melody had just repeated when Macintosh saw, from the corner of his eye, Applejack standing by the open door frame. She peered inside, curious, and with a nod Mac beckoned her over. She came in and stood beside the music box until she decided to lay down beside Mac on the floor.
“Why does this sound so familiar?” she asked him.
He smiled. “It’s mom’s music box. She used to sing along with it when she was tucking us into bed.”
“What are the words?” Applejack asked. Her eyelids started to become heavier, and Mac could see that sleep would soon take her.
“Ain’t no words, sugarcube,” Mac said softly. “She used to just hum along. Like this.” Mac gently hummed a combination of the harmony and melody, creating a little song backed up by the chiming music box. It wasn’t exactly like how his mother used to do it, his voice was much deeper after all, but it didn’t take long for the tune to lull Applejack to sleep. Just as it did all those years ago.
The music box, and Mac’s humming, lasted several minutes more until they both faded into the air. With soft and careful movement, the eldest Apple lifted his sister on his back and headed for her room.
A cool breeze blew in through Applejack’s open window. Big Macintosh slid her onto her bed, and pulled the covers over her before taking off her prized hat. He placed it on her nightstand, and with a final kiss on her cheek he left her room, closing the door behind him with a gentle click.
At least he would always be her brother. That would never change. A simple fact inherent in their shared blood. It didn’t matter whether he worked on the farm or not. It didn’t matter if he went on dates, learned new hobbies, or had fun with good friends. Sure, they didn’t need him as much as they used to, but that didn’t mean he was completely useless to them. One day they might need him, and he would always be there. Always. So long as he had that foundation to build upon, he could be happy.
So with a smile, Macintosh went to his room, rested on his bed, and fell asleep. The music box silent on the floor.