//------------------------------// // Chapter 18: Stop Hurting // Story: Brother Against Sister // by CartsBeforeHorses //------------------------------// The sun slowly crested above the horizon as the small town of Appleloosa began to awaken from its slumber. Residents slowly trickled into the streets, and proprietors turns signs around on saloons, diners, and shops from “closed” to “open.” The town clock tower struck nine as Sheriff Silverstar reached into his vest pocket, pulled out a key with his mouth, and unlocked the sheriff’s office. He walked in, hung his hat on the hat rack, and sat down at his desk. He gazed across the room to the lone jail cell, where the Cake twins were still fast asleep. He shook his head. Hopefully this meddlesome duo would leave he and his town in peace. Silverstar reached into his desk, pulled out a stack of files, and began work. Even though it Appleloosa was still a frontier town, the days of the Terrible Two and other infamous outlaws were long past, rail travel and commerce having long overtaken wagon trains and banditry. The town’s crime rate had plummeted over the past century to that of the rest of Equestria. Thus, only a fraction of the sheriff’s time was actually taken up by patrolling and law enforcement. The rest was occupied by the usual red tape and paperwork about water rights, traffic accidents, rail code enforcement, and other hum-drum mundanities. The sheriff opened a can of chewing tobacco, placing some beneath his lower lip as he tried to focus on his duties through the twins’ rather loud snoring. He sighed, shaking his head as he tried to make sense of the forms and reports. When he had ran for Sheriff of Appleloosa, this wasn’t exactly the position he had imagined. About an hour later, his thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the bell above the door as it opened. In stepped a muscular, behatted mare. “Howdy, sheriff,” she said. “Mornin’, Miss Applejack,” Silverstar replied. “What can I do for ya’ today?” “Well, y’see, I’ve been havin’ a problem with the buffalo. They’ve been sayin’ my new picket fence encroaches on their land. But I have the deed to the house, and cousin Braeburn and I both think that it’s mighty clear where the property line is.” “Ah,” said the Sheriff. Although the buffalo and ponies of Appleloosa had made peace with each other a decade ago, and outright conflict had become rare, there were still many old quarrels that remained to be settled. With many centuries of treaties and agreements between the settlers and the native buffalo, there was plenty of room for disagreement over which document superseded which. Applejack continued, “The other day, they broke down the fence and trampled all over the orchard. Cost me five young macintosh saplin`s.” The sheriff sighed. “Well, I guess I can go out to their lands later today and have a talk with ‘em, and try to resolve it peacefully. If that don’t work, I guess y’all might have to go to Judge Blackrobe about it.” “They don’t exactly recognize her authority,” said Applejack. “They have their own tribal courts.” “Well, let’s hope we can work somethin’ out,” said Silverstar. “Just give me thirty minutes or so to finish up my paperwork and write tickets for these two.” He pointed over towards the jail cell. Applejack raised an eyebrow. “What the hay? Are those…” she started, and then paused. Silverstar said, “They’re two non-earth ponies who were out disturbin’ the peace.” “No, I mean, I think I recognize ‘em,” Applejack interrupted. “Oh?” “Yes. In fact, if I’m recollectin’ right, I’ve known ‘em since they were knee high to a jackalope.” Applejack walked over to the cell. She tapped her hoof lightly on the bars a few times. Pound turned over in his bed and stretched his legs out. His eyes slowly opened as he turned to glance at Applejack. “Pound Cake?” she asked. “Is that you?” “Applejack?” asked Pound, hopping to his hooves. She nodded, grinning. Pumpkin Cake opened her eyes, then shielded them with her hoof to block the sun coming in from the window. After her eyes, adjusted, she glanced over and saw Applejack, and then nearly stumbled out of bed. “Applejack!” she exclaimed, running over to the edge of the cell to see her. “I never thought I’d see y’all again!” Applejack exclaimed. “Neither did we,” said Pumpkin Cake. “Pinkie told us that you left Ponyville.” Applejack nodded. “What with the Second Kingdom usin’ my barn as a shelter or somethin’, I couldn’t exactly keep farmin’. The Apple family had to leave as soon as the invasion started, and we moved here.” “Your barn wasn’t exactly made into a shelter. They were using it as a slave labor camp,” said Pumpkin Cake. “I was there with a hundred or so other fillies and colts, but I escaped.” “They were usin’ children!?” Applejack exclaimed. “Why, the nerve!” “Those unicorns are no good,” said Sheriff Silverstar, shaking his head. “There’s a reason their kind ain’t allowed here.” Applejack raised an eyebrow and turned back to Silverstar. “Wait a minute… is that why you locked these two up in here? On account of ‘em bein’ non-earths?” The sheriff nodded. “They were disturbin’ the peace by walkin’ around after dark, bein’ all noisy as their kind is wont to do. You know the law, Miss Applejack.” Applejack looked over at the Cake twins, who both rolled their eyes. She turned back to Silverstar. “That’s a load of manure, Sheriff. I know these two personally and they behave just fine. They might be a handful for a babysitter, but they’ve never done nothin’ worth lockin’ ‘em up in jail for! You just arrested ‘em for bein’ different, but there ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’ a unicorn or a pegasus. It’s the pony that matters, not if there’s a horn on their head or wings on their back.” “We’ve been over this. I know you don’t like the law, but I’m the duly elected sheriff and I’m gonna enforce the law that the ponies voted for.” Applejack scoffed. “Some things shouldn’t be up for a vote. This law is one of ‘em. This town needs to stop hurtin’ unicorns and pegasi.” The sheriff turned back to his paper, glancing down at his desk. “This conversation is over. I have work to do.” Applejack sighed as the sheriff picked up his pencil and started writing again. She walked over to the jail cell, leaned in, and then whispered to the twins. “Y’all come find me when you get outta here. I’ll be across the street at the general store.” They nodded. Half an hour later, the sheriff walked over to the jail cell, reached in his pocket, and unlocked it. Pound and Pumpkin walked out The sheriff turned to the twins. “Now, I hope I don’t see y’all again, or I’ll have to take more drastic measures.” “We promise we’ll be model second-class citizens,” Pumpkin Cake said. “Yeah, I’ll go right over to the blacksmith and have my wings sawn right off,” said Pound. “And I’ll buy a fancy cowpony hat to hide my horn under,” said Pumpkin. The sheriff sighed, shaking his head as the twins left through the door. They stepped out into the dirt road. The hot sun beat down in the mid-morning air. “Oh man,” said Pound, hovering in the air. “It feels good to finally stretch my wings.” Pumpkin nodded. “Let’s go find Applejack.” They crossed the street and walked over to the general store. “Let’s hope this place is more accepting than that hotel,” said Pound. “Eh, we just need to find Applejack. She said she’d be here. Then we can be on our way,” said Pumpkin. They opened the door and walked into the general store. It was a single room, dimly lit, about twenty meters square. There were a dozen or so shelves stocked with all sorts of goods: homemade jam, horseshoes, spurs, hats, shears, rope, and baskets full of apples, of course. A yellow pony with a saffron mane stood behind the counter. He wore a leather vest and a large brown stetson. What stuck out the most about him, though, was his warm smile. He glanced over at the twins, and grinned from ear to ear. “Howdy! Welcome to the Appleloosa Country Store! Name’s Braeburn, and I’m the owner. Let me know if I can help y’all find somethin’.” Pound and Pumpkin blinked. As far as friendliness went, this stallion could give even Pinkie Pie a run for her money. “Well…” said Pumpkin. “Thanks for the warm welcome. We’re looking for a pony named Applejack.” Braeburn grinned from ear to ear. “Well, I’ll be darn tootin’! As it just so happens, I have her here helpin’ me move some orders today. She’s in the back room as we speak.” He walked over to the door and knocked at it with his hoof. “Cousin Applejack! Some ponies are here to see you!” The door opened, and Applejack walked through. “Oh, there y’all are!” she said, running over and giving the twins a hug. “I was worried that maybe the sheriff had decided to send y’all over to Judge Blackrobe. Good thing Silverstar let you go.” Braeburn blinked, turning to her. “Uh, cousin Applejack? Mind fillin’ me in?” Applejack sighed. “Oh, right. Braeburn, this is Pound Cake, and this is Pumpkin Cake. I know them from when I used to live in Ponyville. They came to Appleloosa so they could…” Her voice trailed off and she paused for a moment, turning to the Cake twins. “Uh, come to think of it, what are you two doing here? I don’t think I ever asked.” “It’s a long story,” said Pound Cake. “Yeah, it’s really, really long,” said Pumpkin Cake. “Too long, you might say,” said Pound Cake. “Oh, well we have time,” said Braeburn. “Not like this place ever gets too busy; this is a pretty small town.” The twins glanced at each other. “Do you want to go first, Pound, or should I?” Pound paused for a moment, and then said, “We’ll take turns, one year at a time.” “...so then Sheriff Silverstar released us, and now here we are.” About four hours later, Pound and Pumpkin Cake were finished with their story. They had both alternated, largely uninterrupted with the exception of two customers who had come in about halfway through, and with a break for lunch, telling the story of what had happened to them over the past two years. About a minute passed after they finished their story, the two adult ponies taking time to digest it. Braeburn finally broke the silence. “Well, that’s a mighty long and excitin’ yarn!” he exclaimed. “Land sakes,” Applejack exclaimed. “Y’all make me seem darn lazy by comparison! All I’ve been doin’ these past four years is just farmin’. I ain’t been on an adventure or anything!” “Well, we kind of skipped the boring parts,” said Pumpkin. “That is, I can’t speak for Pound, but I skipped the boring parts, at least.” “Yeah, I skipped the boring parts, too,” said Pound. “I don’t think you guys wanted to hear about me going out and flying laps around Cloudsdale every day for a year. Or how I spent two months sleeping in the clouds.” “Heh,” Braeburn chuckled. “For a teenage stallion and mare, y’all sure have done some amazin’ things in your time.” “It’s not been by choice,” said Pumpkin. “I think I would have rather gone off to study magic in an actual magic school than hide out with Zecora in the Everfree Forest.” “And Spitfire’s a great teacher. But I think Pumpkin and I would’ve rather had our parents,” said Pound, gazing at the floor. “I know the feelin’. I lost my own folks when I was younger than y’all are now,” said Applejack. “You did?” asked Pound. “Both of them?” asked Pumpkin. Applejack nodded, removing her hat as she gazed at the ceiling. “Still think about ‘em, too.” “Does… does it…” Pound started. He paused a moment, averting his eyes from Applejack and looking around the shop as if the words that he wanted could be found on the shelves. Pumpkin finally looked at Applejack and completed her brother’s sentence. “Does it ever stop hurting?” This time it was Applejack who was at a loss for words. “Well…” A few moments passed. She continued, “I pride myself in honesty, and I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it. No, the pain never does entirely go away. It’s been over two decades, and not a single day has ever gone by when I don’t think about ‘em. Now, granted, it fades over time, like an old photograph. Right after they passed, I cried every day for a month. Then, I only cried a few times a week. Gradually it went on until I only cried on birthdays, or when I visited their graves. Nowadays, well, I actually don’t even remember the last time I shed a tear for ‘em. But I still think about ‘em all the time. Momma’s homemade apple pie, Pappa’s lasso tricks, how they always smiled and laughed, how they taught me pride in my family, how they taught me to be true to myself. I’m sure you have good memories of your own folks, too.” The twins nodded, their eyes misty. “Well, y’all will always have those, so y’all can be joyful for all the times you spent together. And eventually, you’ll find ponies who can replace the ones that you lost. They won’t ever be quite exactly the same, but they’ll be special in their own ways. That’s the way of life.” The silence after Applejack’s speech was broken by the sound of the bell above the door chiming. Braeburn’s head lifted up as he walked over to the door. “Howdy! Welcome to the Appleloosa Country Store! My name’s Braeburn. Just let me know if I can help you find anything.” “Thank you for your warm welcome, good Braeburn. Your friendliness towards me is something the other townsponies here could stand to learn.” Applejack and the Cake twins’ hair stood on end. There was only hoofed being that they knew who deliberately rhymed when speaking. “Zecora!” They ran over to her, embracing her in a tight group hug. “Pumpkin Cake, and her brother Pound. For hours, I have been looking all around! And Applejack, it is good to see you here! I haven’t seen you in several years.” “You too, Zecora!” Applejack exclaimed, letting go and shaking her hoof. “I do apologize for some of the folks in this town that you mentioned. Tolerance ain’t exactly their cup o’ cider.” Zecora nodded. “I gathered as much. Why do they act as such?” “It’s a long story,” said Pumpkin Cake. Pound nodded when she said this. “I hear what you say. A story for another day. As for me, I apologize that I was late you see, but here I am at last. Getting to Appleloosa was quite a challenging task. I had to walk south through the Everfree Forest on hoof, and then I continued south as quickly as I could. You two beat me here, but to be fair, I cannot fly with wings through the air.” “It’s okay,” Pound chuckled. “We had plenty of fun while we waited for you to get here. Didn’t we, Pumpkin?” She nodded, rolling her eyes. “Well, this has been a fun little family reunion!” said Braeburn. “Applejack, do you want to show ‘em around the orchard while I close up shop? I’ll be open for another hour, then I’m closin’ early.” Applejack nodded, grinning. “I can’t wait to show y’all the Apple Family’s new orchard!” On the outskirts of Appleloosa, on the south side of the train tracks, when the shacks became sparse and the mailboxes were far away from each other, Applejack, the Cakes, and Zecora walked on a dirt road. The trek took about two hours on hoof. Pound Cake offered to fly them all over in a cart and shave off an hour and a half, but Applejack and Zecora preferred to walk. Besides, the Apples needed their cart back at the orchard for farming. Other than a few curious glances from passers-by, nopony said anything to them. “These are all my neighbors. That there is the Whittaker residence. And there’s where Missus Chestnut lives. And here’s my place.” A gravel driveway led up from the dirt road. A faded wood mailbox that had once resembled a chicken but was now warped with age stood. They walked up the gravel driveway, the rocks crunching beneath their hooves, and eventually reached the old farmhouse. It was two stories tall, and had a wraparound porch. There was no paint on the house; as Applejack would later explain, nopony really saw it necessary to paint their homes. The dust and dirt would make quick work of the paint, and nopony else painted their houses, so it was just a pretentious waste of money. Granny Smith sat on the porch, a stetson covering her eyes as she loudly snored away. A few flies buzzed around her, which she lazily swatted at in her sleep. “Y’all have met Granny, right, Zecora?” “I believe so, though I think it was quite long ago.” “Well, I’d reintroduce y’all, but she don’t like bein’ disturbed. So I’ll just give y’all the tour.” Applejack opened the mesh screen door to the foyer. The wooden door behind it was already open. “We don’t have none of those fancy unicorn magic powered fans here. Gets too hot.” Applejack showed them around. The ground floor contained the kitchen and the living room. The upper floor contained four rooms: one for Granny, one for Big Macintosh, one for Applejack, and a spare which had been Apple Bloom’s until she moved back to Ponyville to be with the other Crusaders. “We bought this home a couple years ago when Trixie and all them Second Kingdom folk kicked us off our land. Got it for a song. It needed a bit of fixer-uppin’, but it’s home now.” “Do you miss Ponyville at all?” asked Pound. “‘Course. But home is where the heart is. We Apples have got each other, and that’s what’s important.” After showing them the inside of the house, she took them through the sliding glass door to the back deck, where rows and rows of apple trees stretched out as far as the eye could see. A fire engine red stallion stood at one of the trees, giving it a swift kick as apples fell from the tree and neatly landed into three baskets on the ground. “And that’ll be Big Macintosh.” “Eeyup,” he cooly replied, glancing over. “Big Mac, ‘course you remember Zecora. Do you remember Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake?” “Ee…” he started, scratching his head with his hoof. “Sorta.” Applejack chuckled. “Well, they woulda been a lot littler when you saw ‘em last. Didn’t have their cutie marks, neither.” “Okay,” said Big Macintosh, walking over to them and shaking their hooves. “Y’all will have to excuse Big Mac. He’s had a long day of apple-buckin,’ and even when he’s fresh and rested up in the morin,’ he ain’t good at rememberin’ faces. He also ain’t a pony of very many words.” “Yeah, I seem to remember that,” said Pumpkin, chuckling. Applejack glanced up at the sun, which was starting to sink low on the horizon as the sky dimmed. “Well, y’all are welcome to stay the night. Pound and Pumpkin can have Apple Bloom’s old room, and Zecora, you can sleep on the couch.” Big Macintosh’s stomach rumbled loudly. “Uh, AJ…” “Oh, right! You ain’t eaten all day! Must be hungry out here.” Pumpkin Cake glanced at the orchard, looking at the plump, juicy apples. “Can’t he just eat…” “No! That there’s inventory!” Applejack said, and then let out a hearty laugh. They went into the house, where Granny Smith was already awake, boiling a cabbage and apple stew on the stovetop. A warm loaf of bread stood baking in the oven. “Applejack!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening at the three additional ponies. “You didn’t tell me that we were havin’ guests over! I only made enough for the three of us!” The Cakes and Zecora glanced over at Applejack, who blushed as bright red as one of her apples. “Well, Granny… I guess it’s time to eat some of our inventory.” The five ponies and one zebra sat in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, love seat, and rocking chairs as they digested their meal. Granny Smith had insisted that she, Applejack, and Big Mactintosh eat nothing but apples for dinner, while the three guests could eat the stew and bread that she had originally made just for the Apples. “That was a great dinner, Granny Smith! Thanks a bunch,” said Pound Cake. “Indeed,” said Zecora. Pumpkin simply nodded. She had eaten too much. “Aw, it’s nothin’,” said Granny Smith, waving a hoof in the air. “Ain’t no dinner too fancy for our extended family!” They sat for a few seconds, until a mare’s voice spoke from the front door. “Hello?” Applejack’s eyebrows raised. “Who could that be?” She walked down the hallway to the foyer. A grey-coated, blond-maned, wall-eyed pegasus mare stood behind the doorway. “Hello, Applejack,” the pegasus said. “Sorry for not knocking, but the door was already open. I’m here on urgent business from Princess Twilight.” “Oh, howdy, Derpy! Land sakes, today I just keep meeting ponies I haven’t seen in years! Come on in,” said Applejack, opening the mesh screen as the pegasus walked in, dusting off her hooves on the mat. “I hope y’all didn’t wreck another town hall and need me to raise money to fix it,” Applejack said, chuckling. Derpy Hooves blushed. “I’m less clumsy now. That was ten years ago!” “Thirteen,” Applejack corrected. “And don’t worry; I didn’t mind then and wouldn’t mind now, iff’n that’s what you need.” “It isn’t,” said Derpy, giggling. “Ah. Well, we’re all just sittin’ here in the livin’ room. Just finished dinner.” They walked down the hall to the living room. “Y’all, this is Derpy Hooves. Not sure if any of y’all remember her or not, seein’ as it’s been a long time since we all lived in Ponyville together.” “I’m Pound Cake,” said Pound, shaking Derpy’s hoof. “I’m Pumpkin Cake, and this is—” “Zecora,” Derpy Hooves answered, smiling. “How could I forget the only zebra in Ponyville? You’re the reason that I’m here. Searched high and low, but finally found you.” Zecora blinked. “I’m quite flattered. What is the matter?” “You’re needed in Manehattan at once. Princess Twilight has an urgent mission for you.”