The arrival of spring meant that Caramel had a lot more to keep him occupied at Sweet Apple Acres, and he quickly grew used to performing odd jobs around the farm from dawn till dinnertime. Sometimes he would assist with tree grafting and crop plantation, while at others he would carry out repairs on fences, ploughs, chicken coops and carts amongst other things. There were times, of course, when his clumsy streak got the better of him, but he gradually learned to take it in his stride instead of brooding over any mishaps that had cruelly decided to plague his working day.
Similarly, the Apple Family came to value his presence more than ever, and after a month, they even started paying him a small weekly wage. But despite their generosity, Caramel felt rather unworthy of such a gesture; if anything, it made him feel like he was free-loading off their hospitality, and eventually he decided that maybe he should move out of Sweet Apple Acres and get a place of his own. That way, he hoped, he would be a lot less of a burden on Applejack, her siblings and their grandmother.
Over the next few weeks, the tan-coated young stallion took every opportunity he got to find himself a nice, small, affordable residence that he could claim as his own. This turned out to be far easier said than done, however; the small fortune he had built up since working for Barley Mow and Blink Bonny certainly wasn't enough to buy him a bungalow, let alone a house, and while a flat would have been a lot cheaper, there weren't that many in Ponyville. Only towards the end of the third week did he finally manage to secure himself an apartment near the Carousel Boutique, less than a quarter of an hour's walk from Sweet Apple Acres.
Applejack was secretly rather saddened when she heard of Caramel's decision to move out, but tried her best to remain supportive nonetheless. After all, she reasoned, it wasn't as if he would be leaving Ponyville for good – indeed, the young stallion himself had pointed out while packing what few belongings he possessed that, after all she and her family had done for him, there was no way he would wish to turn his back on them forever. All the same, he was very sorry when it was time for him to head out to his new home; so perhaps he didn't wish to intrude on his own employers any longer, but he still felt as though his life wouldn't quite be the same without them.
As darkness descended over Ponyville, Caramel finally arrived at the apartment building where he would be living for the next few years of his life at least. In common with some of the other buildings in the area, including Carousel Boutique itself, it was done up in a rather fanciful style, almost like a fairground marquee – a far cry indeed from the sort of buildings that a cosmopolitan city such as Manehattan boasted, thought a somewhat amused Caramel as he approached. Even though he had already seen the block up close and even from the inside when looking around his new flat, he still couldn't seem to get used to its colourful, cheery design.
The flat he had bought was located on the top floor of the building, five storeys up from ground level, and Caramel had to make a rather long climb in order to reach it. This didn't seem to bother him at first, not least because of how little he was carrying; but what he hadn't reckoned with was that his workload that day had been particularly heavy, which meant that he was short of energy before he had even reached the building. By the time he was halfway up the final flight of stairs, he was out of breath and his legs were stiff and sore from all the extra effort.
“Come on, Caramel you old goat!” he scolded himself, panting heavily from the exertion. “You're not gonna get anywhere by collapsing halfway up the stairs – now get a move on!!”
Unfortunately for him, his weary limbs seemed to think otherwise. Just when he was nearly at the top, his right hind leg suddenly missed its footing, and with a startled yelp he flopped down onto his barrel, landing with a hard thud against the stairs, while his saddlebags burst open and upset his belongings all around him.
The tan-furred stallion groaned in pain and frustration, slapping a forehoof to his face. “I am not having a good night!” he growled.
“You alright, stranger?”
Caramel looked up to see a vaguely familiar stallion standing just in front of him, an expression of concern stamped onto his face as he looked the newcomer over for any injuries. He was a sort of cadet-grey colour with a charcoal-coloured mane and tail, and his Cutie Mark consisted of three shamrock-green four-leaf clovers.
“I...yeah, I guess so,” he grunted after a few seconds. “Must have tripped on the stairs while I was making my way up.”
The other stallion recoiled slightly, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth. “Ooh, that sounds pretty painful,” he mused. “You want some help, pal?”
The tan-coated young stallion paused, surveying his spilt luggage. “I could do with it, actually.”
The grey stallion acknowledged with a nod, and helped the interloper to his hooves before helping him gather up his belongings. Before long, both of Caramel's saddlebags were reloaded, and he could finally make his way over to his new apartment.
“Thanks for the help, mister,” he said with a small smile as he inserted the key into the lock.
“Hey, no problem,” chuckled the grey stallion. “It's what I'm here for, after all. Out of interest,” he added curiously, “were you visiting relatives, or have you just moved into Ponyville?”
“Well, technically I moved here about...four or five months ago,” replied Caramel matter-of-factly. “It's only fairly recently that I managed to get enough money to afford a place like this.”
The grey stallion was taken aback. “So you've been living here without a good firm roof over your head for more than four months?! Crikey, what a way to live!” he exclaimed. “How in Celestia's name did you manage to get by so easily – and in such cold weather too?!”
Caramel paused again. “Um...it's a long story,” he said at last. “Some other time, perhaps?”
At first, the other stallion could only stand and stare in disbelief; but after a while, his expression softened a little, and he gave Caramel an understanding smile. Clearly this newcomer must have been through a great deal, but he was absolutely right – there was no point in keeping him up half the night on such a sensitive subject. “Okay then, buddy,” he replied, “I won't press you any further. But if ever you do have anything you want to talk about with somepony, I'll be more than happy to hear you out. My flat's just across the hall from yours.”
This coming from the two-tone grey stallion who had just seconds ago been helping him with his luggage filled Caramel with a deep sense of gratitude. For the first time since Brooklyn Dodger's untimely death several months ago, he truly felt like he had somepony to whom he could turn in times of strife or despair. “Thanks,” he responded softly. “I might just take you up on that offer.”
“That's okay,” smiled the stallion. “My name's Lucky Clover, by the way, but feel free to call me Lucky for short if you so wish.”
“I'm Caramel. Glad to know you.”
“Me too. Anyway, I better not detain you any longer,” said Lucky, turning to head back to his own flat. “See you round, Caramel – I hope you have a good sleep.”
“You too, Lucky. Goodnight,” and Caramel stepped into his apartment with a warm smile on his face. Things were definitely looking up for him right now, he thought.
Caramel settled in well at his new home, and quickly became firm friends with Lucky. The older stallion seemed to inherit a number of qualities from Brooklyn Dodger; he was genial and friendly by nature with a good sense of humour, but also refused to take any bullying, whether to himself or to anypony close to him. If ever anypony did get on the wrong side of him, he was quick to put them in their place.
Where he differed from Caramel's deceased Manehattan friend was by how much he influenced the tan-coated young stallion's social life. Brooklyn had been an extremely good friend, that much was true, but he had always gone easy on Caramel – even when it came to making new friends. As a result, any other friendships he might have made were regrettably short-lived. Lucky, on the other hoof, knew that friends were a vital part of anypony's lives, and over time, he gradually helped the young stallion to open up to other ponies.
Caramel was hesitant at first, not least because of what had happened the last time he had made a new friend, but Lucky was most insistent, and eventually the tan-furred young stallion gave in. Once he was out and about, however, he couldn't have been more grateful – within a month or so, he found himself with a far greater circle of friends than he could ever have predicted. One of the first was a somewhat mysterious chestnut-brown Earth pony with an hourglass Cutie Mark who referred to himself simply as “the Doctor”, while others included a golden, blue-maned stallion named Golden Grape; a light brown pony with black mane and tail named Cherry Fizzy, who, as his name suggested, made fizzy drinks for a local juice bar along with his marefriend Berry Punch; and a local unicorn artist named Claude Ponet.
But for some strange reason, even though his social life had improved immensely, Caramel still felt horribly incomplete. Why, he couldn't place his hoof on for the life of him, especially given all the good fortune that had come his way after leaving Manehattan – he was reunited with a foalhood friend of his, had somewhere to live, he had managed to secure a job for himself, and above all, he had made so many new friends that the loneliness he had so often experienced was now but a mere shadow of what it once was. So why did he feel like there was something missing from his life? Why did he keep experiencing a burning sensation in his chest every so often?
It couldn't possibly be homesickness, he told himself, otherwise he wouldn't have hesitated to try and move back to Manehattan. But could it still be that the city itself missed him? Could something – or somepony – within that city have been silently weeping over his departure, imploring for him to come back? The only pony Caramel could think of was his own mother, and even if he did come back, she probably wouldn't remember him if he showed her a photograph of the two of them together. After all, how would a brain-damaged mare be able to remember so much as a single detail of her daily life, let alone her own son? No – the only living soul who would have had the slightest chance of remembering him from the Big Apple was Applejack, and she didn't even live there!
Applejack – the mere thought of the name seemed to intensify the soreness in the young stallion's chest. But why, he asked himself? Why did his heart seem to ache every time she came into his head? They were both in the same place now, and more importantly, that was where he intended to stay, so why did he still feel an empty space whenever he thought about her or was in the same place as her? All these mysteries and many more played on his mind again and again, day after day; and by the time summer had rolled in, his astray state of mind had even begun to affect his work at Sweet Apple Acres, making him clumsier than ever. Where the worst he had done previously was to knock over the baskets and spill their contents, he soon found himself damaging fences and farming equipment, and at one time he even managed to kick one of the trees so hard that, just as the apples were falling out, it came loose from its roots and toppled over. Luckily it had fallen away from Caramel, thus sparing him any injury, but he was most ashamed and embarrassed, particularly when Applejack spoke sternly to him about it later on.
Late one September evening, about a week after his humiliation with the uprooted tree, Caramel arrived back at his apartment feeling utterly exhausted. It had been a long, hard day; the west orchard had recently been invaded by fruit bats, and he had been left to deal with much of the apple crop alone while Applejack and Big Macintosh tried to get rid of the bats and rescue what few apples they could. Because of this, they were left with such a heavy backlog that all three had to work overtime in order to make up for it, which led to even more mishaps on Caramel's part as he tried to rush the apples back to the barn.
“What a day,” groaned the young stallion as he plodded wearily into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. “As if all the extra mishaps I get into aren't enough, now I have to get a whole load more dumped on me by some pesky bats! I don't know how Applejack manages to put up with what I keep doing to her crops – especially after a day like that.”
He sighed heavily, reaching for a magazine sitting on his coffee table; but after only half a second he let his arm go limp again. “I just don't get it. Why does that mare make me feel all weird inside whenever I think about her? Why does my...” but he was promptly interrupted by a knock at his door. Without looking up, he called out, “It's not locked; come on in.”
Right on cue, the door opened to reveal Lucky. “Hullo, Caramel,” he said cheerfully. “Just thought I'd drop in and see how you were doing. You're back pretty late, aren't you?”
Caramel didn't say anything. He just nodded faintly.
“You okay, buddy?” asked Lucky, visibly perplexed and concerned. “You don't exactly seem with it at the moment.”
“No, I'm not,” murmured Caramel unhappily. “We've been having a few problems over at Sweet Apple Acres with an invasion of fruit bats, hence why I was so late getting back home. Certainly didn't help that I was getting the same feelings that I'd been experiencing since...well, since a little while after I moved into Ponyville.”
Lucky gazed curiously at him. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, I understand if you don't, but it might still help to get it off your chest if it's really bugging you – which I assume it is.”
“You assume right, Lucky,” replied Caramel, and proceeded to explain; “I've been getting a really weird ache in my chest every so often, and when I'm with Applejack, I...or even thinking about her, for that matter, I keep feeling all nervous and such. Even when I'm in bed at night, I find myself dreaming I'm sharing it with a mare – I can never work out whom, but whenever I try to lock lips with her, I...well...” he blushed madly, “...I keep waking up to find I've kissed my own pillow!”
“I see,” mused Lucky thoughtfully.
“Yeah, last time I felt anything like it was just after Winter Wrap-Up,” continued Caramel. “I thought maybe it was a sign I needed to start trying to find a marefriend; but what beats me is that none of them seemed quite right fo...” but he suddenly broke off in mid-sentence. Much to his surprise, Lucky had broken down into a fit of laughter, and was clutching his chest with one hoof as he nearly guffawed himself to the point of coughing.
Caramel stared incredulously at the grey-coated stallion. “I don't see anything funny about this,” he stated bluntly.
“Yeah, well...obviously you don't see where you've been going wrong either,” spluttered Lucky, trying his best to pull himself together. “You've been looking everywhere for a marefriend, but you've never once realised that you have one right within striking distance whenever you're at Sweet Apple Acres!”
“What are you talking about?” exclaimed Caramel. “There's nopony on the farm who can even begin to catch my interest – apart from Applejack, perhaps – but...”
“Exactly!” interrupted Lucky triumphantly. “All these emotions you've been feeling are you getting a crush on Applejack!”
“But I...how can you be so sure?”
Lucky chortled. “By a number of means,” he replied with a grin. “One: you mentioned yourself that you keep getting a weird ache in your chest every so often – and that you get all 'nervous', as you so naively put it, when you so much as think about her. Am I right in thinking that they both occur at the same time?”
“Uh...yes.”
“Well there you go – that's not actual nervousness as much as your heart aching for that pony. Two: you keep dreaming of getting into bed with some random mare, right?”
“Right,” affirmed Caramel, still uncertain.
“That mare you keep dreaming of represents Applejack, and your cuddling and kissing is your crush 'venting', so to speak. Deep down, you probably want to hold and touch and kiss her, but while you're doing your best to suppress that urge, you can't do that while your body's all relaxed and your subconscious has taken over – parasomnia, my Dad calls it. And three: in case you've forgotten, I actually have a marefriend myself whom I go and see every evening after work,” finished Lucky, “so having been there before, I know exactly what I'm talking about.”
Caramel paused, thinking the whole thing over. Could it really be true that he had developed feelings for Applejack? Was that why he had been so distraught when she left Manehattan without even telling him? The more he thought about it, the more he realised that Lucky was absolutely right – he had fallen for the orange-coated farm pony, and he had fallen hard. “Wow, Lucky,” he remarked at last, “seems you might have a point there.” But then his face fell too; “I can't believe I let myself grow so close to me.”
Lucky's hearty smile changed back to a frown of concern. “What's wrong with that? I'd have thought you'd be over the moon.”
“You wouldn't be 'over the moon' if the only two ponies who ever came as close to you as I suspect Applejack is getting were removed from your life by a pair of collapsing walkways,” retorted Caramel glumly.
“Walkways?!” exclaimed Lucky, his eyes widening in sudden realisation. “You mean......that Bridleway shopping mall?”
“Correct again. That's why I moved out of Manehattan; I didn't want to experience that kind of pain ever again, and neither did I want anypony else to suffer just by way of me being there,” Caramel clarified sadly. He then looked down at his hooves, visibly ashamed. “Besides, it's not as if anypony would forgive me for that accident – I don't think there's been a single survivor who hasn't sustained some kind of life-changing injury.”
“Well, you say that,” replied Lucky sagely, “but there are actually a fair few who haven't.” He paused dramatically, as if he was holding back a dark secret waiting to be revealed. “In fact, and I don't mean to alarm you when I say this, you're actually looking at one such survivor right now.”