//------------------------------// // Stupid Life // Story: Bitter Harvest // by Esle Ynopemos //------------------------------// Chapter Seven Stupid Life *-*-* Golden Harvest's death was sudden, tragic, and completely inevitable. While she was walking home from the market, the Friendship Express hit an obstruction in its rails, causing one car loaded full of carrots to disconnect from the train and leap off the tracks, jumping clear of five blocks of residential housing and plowing directly into her. She was instantly buried in tons of twisted metal and broken carrots. This heap of ruined produce then proceeded to spontaneously burst into flames. As the pile of carnage smoldered, a meteor fell from the sky, slamming down directly on top of the burning, shattered carrots on top of whatever was left of Golden Harvest. The whole thing became a glassy crater in a single roaring instant. Absolutely no Golden Harvests survived. At the funeral, they buried one of her prized, world-famous carrots because there was nothing left of the pony herself to bury. All her friends and family showed up and were very sad at her passing. They talked and comforted one another, and everypony agreed that her death, while terribly tragic, at least had spared her the embarrassment of continuing to live with herself after her outburst at the market. “She's in a better place,” they all said, sniffing and nodding sadly. “A place where she can never screw up as completely and utterly as she did back there at the market ever again.” At least there was that consolation. Alas, her life was not so merciful as to end then and there. Golden Harvest was not crushed by any flying, vegetable-laden train cars at any point as she plodded home, head hung low. There was no enormous manticore hiding behind her door waiting to swallow her whole. She did not contract fatal food poisoning from the bean sprout sandwich that she made for herself with shaky hooves, nor were there any deadly toxins in the glass of water she drank. And no matter how hard she tried that night, Golden Harvest found that she could not, in fact, cry herself to death. Life, surprisingly, went on. The next morning she rolled out of bed as she always had. She found that brushing her mane took far less time when there was hardly anything left to brush, so she was out in her garden a few minutes earlier than usual, coffee in hoof, ready to take care of her carrots. They may have been the most judgmental of vegetables, but they hadn't been there at the market. Her carrots still loved her. Carrots required... well. Golden Harvest's ears sank as she looked over her garden. Carrots required some water now and then, and for her to keep the weeds out. She had scarcely touched her carrot patch over the last few days because she had been too busy chasing Applejack's tail to pay any attention to them. The rows of green carrot tops had begun to wilt, the edges of their leaves turning brown and brittle. Little shoots of invading weeds crept in at the edges of her garden, sapping the vegetables' nutrients away. Golden Harvest sighed and filled a watering can. Over the fence, she heard a 'thwack.' Applejack was already out, kicking her apples down from the trees. Golden Harvest leaned against her fence, her eyes idly following the orange mare as she dragged her buckets out, arranging them in rings around each tree. There was really more to it than just walking up to a tree and kicking it. Apple farming was just as much work as carrot farming. Golden Harvest wondered why she hadn't noticed that before. Applejack's eyes rose, and caught her staring. Panic seized Golden Harvest's chest as she scrambled to avert her eyes. Applejack had to hate her now. Golden had gone to her place of business and hollered at her like a madmare. Who would want to be neighbors with her anymore? She hadn't seen Applejack scowling at her, but Golden Harvest was sure she was. Applejack had every right to scowl at her. Although... a thought rolled through Golden Harvest's head. She turned and slowly raised her hoof in the air. “Hi,” she called, and waved her hoof. Applejack immediately smiled and waved back. It was nice to get that friendly-greeting reflex to work for her for a change. Golden Harvest reflected that it was comforting to think that no matter how badly she screwed up, she could always get somepony to smile and wave to her, just by doing the same to them. That was probably the reason ponies had evolved it in the first place. Instead of going back to her work, Applejack trotted up to the fence. To Golden Harvest's surprise, the smile never faded from her neighbor's face. “Howdy, Golden,” she said as she reached the white painted fence posts. “How are you doin' this mornin'?” Golden Harvest glanced behind her, expecting to see some other pony named Golden. Applejack couldn't have been talking to her in that bright tone of voice. But there was nothing behind her but her tool shed and her watering can. “M... me?” Applejack laughed her distracting laugh. “Well I ain't talkin' to my aunt Goldie Delicious, am I? I didn't see you out and about after market yesterday, and I got a bit concerned for you.” Golden Harvest's eyes dropped to the dirt. “I'm alive,” she mumbled. “Well, that's always a good start.” Applejack nodded. Golden Harvest furrowed her brows. “You're not... mad at me?” Applejack raised her eyebrows. “Mad at you? Now why in Equestria would I be mad at you, sugarcube?” “For how I acted in the marketplace.” Golden Harvest's ears drooped. “I didn't mean to...” Her neighbor cut her off with a hoof to her lips. “Now, I ain't gonna lie. What you did was awful strange. I'll have to admit, it rendered me a bit tongue-tied, and I reckon I wasn't the only one, judgin' from the pin you could hear droppin' out there.” Golden's shoulders sagged. “But,” continued Applejack, “I reckon a pony's got license to be a bit strange when she's tryin' to figure out who she is.” A genuine light shone in her eyes. “I meant it when I said I was happy for you. It can be a tough task, sortin' that kind of thing out, and I'm glad you came to a conclusion you're satisfied with.” She reached across the fence and pulled her into a sort of half-hug. Relief washed over Golden Harvest in waves. Applejack didn't hate her. In fact, she was proud of her. Golden Harvest had been wondering what the weather was like this time of year in Saddle Arabia, in case she had to move so that Applejack wouldn't have to be her neighbor anymore. But instead, here she was, her head pressed against the coarse orange fur on Applejack's chest. This was better than she could have dreamed. Her dreams. Perhaps it was pushing her luck at this point, but Golden Harvest felt like she had received a fresh burst of momentum, so she pulled her head back and looked in Applejack's eyes. “I... there was another thing,” she said, her cheeks slowly growing rosy. “There was a reason I came to your stand.” Applejack's smile softened a little bit. She nodded. “Yeah... I figured there was.” “Applejack... I think I have feelings—” “I know,” Applejack interrupted. “I was afraid that might be the case.” That was a less than positive reaction. Golden Harvest's ears sank. “...but you're straight,” she sighed. Applejack's eyes widened as she shook her head. “No. No, that ain't it. It don't matter to me if a pony's a mare or a stallion near so much as it does that they're a good, hard-workin' pony that knows right from wrong—which you are,” she added before Golden Harvest could interject. “The hitch is that... well, you could say I'm already spoken for.” Golden Harvest's heart beat a little slower, a little heavier. “Oh. I just thought... Pinkie said you were single.” “Pinkie...” Applejack sighed. “Pinkie and me don't see eye-to-eye on quite everything. She ain't exactly wrong. I am single. But...” She leaned against the fence, tipping her hat back. “Well, I'm married to the job, so to speak.” “The apple farm?” Golden Harvest asked. “I... I'm sure I could learn how to help with the apples. They're not so different from carrots.” Applejack shook her head. “Not that job.” She nodded to the north, where Mount Canterlot rose above the morning mists. “See, I'm on a short list of ponies that Princess Celestia knows she can count on when she's got something mean and nasty makin' life difficult for ponykind. It's a real honor, and I don't regret a moment of it, but the fact is, it's dangerous work. Every time I run off with Twi and the girls into the Everfree in order to find this magic thingamabob or confront that evil what's-he-called, there's a fair chance one of us might not make it back.” Golden Harvest's ears folded back as she listened, wide-eyed. “The thought of what that might do to Apple Bloom, Mac, and Granny Smith...” Applejack grimaced. “It tears me up inside. I just can't bear to add a special somepony to the list of ponies waitin' someday for a mare who don't come home. Do you understand that, Golden?” Golden Harvest sniffed and nodded. “But... doesn't that get lonely?” “It's what I've chosen for myself.” Applejack opened her forelegs, inviting Golden Harvest into another hug, which she gladly took. “You're a great gal, Golden,” she whispered, squeezing her. “One of these days, you're gonna find some lucky mare, and you'll make her feel like the specialest pony who ever lived. Might be I wish it could be me.” She held Golden back at hoof's length and gave her a smile. “But it can't be me.” Golden Harvest returned the smile. “Thanks for talking with me, Applejack,” she said. “You're the best.” “What are neighbors for, huh?” Applejack grinned and patted her on the head. Both mares turned away from the fence. They both had their morning chores to get to. Golden Harvest picked up her watering can in her teeth. “Oh, and Golden?” Applejack said, turning around one last time. “I like your mane. It's cute.” Next Chapter: Epilogue Stupid Golden Harvest "Golden, I need you to please shut your mouth."