With the departure of Cadance, I found myself alone again in the peaceful calm of the apple orchards. Nothing to be heard but the soft breeze and the evening insects. Before long it would be dark and Granny Smith would be setting dinner on the table. But, initially, I did not move. I was too lost in thought. While I hadn’t had some sort of weird Disney-esque moment on the subject of love, Cadance had changed my point of view drastically.
Until this point, I was certain that while Applejack may like me, I liked her only as a friend, as relationships beyond that point were something I did not experience. Now though, I had to reassess my position. Cadance’s statement about me fearing the idea of love had hit home and hit hard. She was right, that much was certain, but she was also right in saying that neither of us were overly invested in the idea of romance.
At the end of the discussion, I had been compelled to admit that I did like Applejack. But I couldn’t quite place what my feelings were. I liked her more than a friend, but at the same time, I wasn’t planning to get down on one knee and offer her a ring. Regardless, it seemed foalish at this point to keep burying my head in the sand any longer, and so I resolved to change my tactics.
Heading back to the farmhouse took me into the night. I’d forgotten just how far out that little spot was from the farmhouse. But having been living and working on this farm for over half a year, I could all but navigate it with my eyes closed. It was a simple matter of cutting through the western orchard, then following the fence line until you hit the fruit bat reservation, best not to go in there at night, Apple Bloom claims she once saw a giant vampire fruit bat almost as big as a pony. When you get there you take a left and keep going along the treeline until you hit the Crusaders clubhouse, then you just follow their well-trod path, along with the smell of Granny’s cooking, back to the farmhouse.
The whole thing took about half an hour in the end, and even with the days steadily lengthening again, it was still well into the night by the time I trundled in through the kitchen door. Now, normally, I would have made a bee line for the dinner. As it was Granny’s famous soup tonight, I’d be in a continuous scrap with Big Mac to wolf down as much as possible before he did. Instead, as soon as I got through the front door, I was set upon by a certain Stetson wearing mare.
“Bones!” she cried happily. “Ah was wonderin’ where you’d gone and got to.”
“Whoa, easy, ‘Jack, easy. You know where Ah was. Ah’ve been talkin’ with Princess Cadance all afternoon,” I replied, attempting to prize the strong mare off me.
“Shoot, Bones, you were out there for one heck of a long time,” she countered. “Can’t go blamin’ me for bein’ a mite worried.”
“Oh come on, as if Ah was gonna go and miss Granny’s soup night.” With that I realised that Big Mac had been left to his own devices for more than ten seconds. Looking over, we found the stallion head down in the bowl lapping down as much as he could and competing with Winona to boot. I quickly levitated the smaller of the two back onto the floor, while AJ and her little sister attempted to haul Big Mac back to the surface, only to find he’d all but cleaned out the entire pot. Now do you see what I mean when I said we usually had to scrap over it?
We all stared in understandable shock at the empty soup pot. It was supposed to hold enough for everypony to get at least two helpings each. Mac had gone through the lot in less than a minute.
“Well, guess Ah better make some more soup,” Granny commented dryly. The ferocity of Mac’s eating habits surprised even her. That brought us back to reality and got a laugh out of me and AJ. Apple Bloom on the other hand, pouted irritably at the current lack of dinner. Fortunately, the soup was not that difficult to make, nor overly time consuming. However, Granny Smith was the only pony who knows how to make it. Believe me, AJ’s tried and so has Pinkie Pie. Twilight even once took a sample with her to her basement lab to try and fathom the secret ingredient. The only written form of the recipe was to be found in the Apple matriarch’s will apparently, and I doubted we’d be opening that any time soon.
With little in the way of options, the rest of us left the kitchen and went to lie down in the living room. Mac in particular, who now undoubtedly felt as bloated as a balloon, welcomed the opportunity to lie down.
As for the rest of us, who’d not had a chance to get so much as a look in yet, I used my own limited teleportation ability to fetch a few apples from one of the many barrels in the barn. Munching on these tided us over for a while. As I sat eating away at the simple snack, my thoughts turned to some of the more important matters I had on my proverbial plate. Aside from testing the waters with AJ, I would at some point have to have a talk with Big Mac about the matter. I owed him that much at least.
As we waited, my thoughts turned to my dad. I couldn’t help but still be somewhat annoyed with him. Rarity I had expected to try and play matchmaker; it’s what she does, let’s be blunt. But my own old man had never taken an iota of interest in my romantic issues until now. He’d always encouraged me to go my own way and be independent, and yet he’d called forth the Princess of Love no less to try and convince me to confess my undying love to a mare I was friendly with. On the other hand though, if Cadance hadn’t talked to me, I’d never have reached where I am now, so in a way I suppose I should be grateful.
“Soup’s on, everypony!” Granny Smith called from the kitchen. I was startled out of my thoughts and quickly set them aside, all that mattered now was getting a decent dinner. Amazingly, even Big Mac, who’d taken on a greater quantity of soup than anypony in their right mind ought to, got to his hooves and scrambled for the kitchen door.
After a brief incident reminiscent of the Three Stooges, we all made it to the kitchen and got ourselves settled for dinner. This time, we were able to keep Mac away from the pot for five minutes and we all enjoyed a pleasant dinner. Not seeing a better opportunity opening up in the coming days, what with all the work we’d be doing, I turned and spoke to the largest of the Apple clan.
“Hey Big Macintosh, can Ah talk to you ‘bout somethin’ when you’re finished up with that?” I asked gesturing to his nearly empty bowl. Third bowl I hasten to add. How that stallion keeps putting it away is beyond me. He hastily wiped his soup covered snout with a hoof before replying.
“Sure, Bones. Ah’ll meet ya out by the chicken coop.” he answered. Luckily, he clocked that I wanted to talk to him about something not necessarily for the ears of everypony. With that, he promptly returned to his soup, whilst the rest of us felt we’d had about as much as we could take.
About ten minutes later, I found myself standing outside, near the little henhouse that the farm maintained. Like Fluttershy, we kept the chickens for their eggs, though ours were free range; insofar as they could wander about the farm as much as they pleased. It was really good of Fluttershy to go and have a word with our local example of Vulpes vulpes to prevent any of the hens suddenly disappearing.
I was also conscious of the fact that the coop was a fair distance away from the farmhouse, giving me and Big Mac some privacy. I would have to be very careful how I handled this conversation. Like most older brothers, myself included, I knew Mac was very protective of his little sister. When I’d first started living with the Apples’ he’d been a little suspicious of me for that exact reason. Personally, I put it down to the loss he experienced at such a young age, something no foal ought to ever have to go through. In any case, I would at some point during this talk be asking him if he was okay with me going out with Applejack.
I wasn’t doing this because I thought he might rip me to shreds if I didn’t (though that thought did cross my mind). I was doing this out of respect for him, as the father figure, and his family. It would be better to do it this way, rather than announce it all after the fact. That way, there would be no chances of trouble arising later on. After all, at some point, who knows, Big Mac may end up being the one to give Applejack away.
As I continued to contemplate what I was going to say, the stallion in question arrived. He seemed placid enough, but then again, Big Mac always seems placid, until you tick him off.
“Evenin’, Mac,” I said kindly.
“Bones,” he replied. I took my next steps most carefully.
“Mac, you know how Princess Cadance came by this afternoon?”
“Eeyup.” The familiar reply settled me a little.
“Well, she came to see me ‘bout somethin’.” Big Mac remained quiet, silently instructing me to go on. “She wanted to talk to me ‘bout AJ.” I struggled to even keep eye contact with the large stallion. It was telling my parents I was a Brony all over again. Finally though, I summoned up the courage.
“Mac, how would you feel if Ah liked AJ, as more than just a friend Ah mean?” That was it; no turning back now. Mac suddenly let out a strange combination of a snort and a whinny and his eyes went wide in surprise. In spite of myself I did my best to keep quiet. If he didn’t approve, anything I said would just dig me deeper, and if he did I shouldn’t add anything. Eventually, he spoke.
“Come on, Bones. Let’s take a walk.”
Big Mac’s response to my question didn’t exactly fill me with optimism. I’d asked to talk to him away from the farmhouse so we could discuss everything privately. And yet here he was, leading me deeper and deeper into the orchards.
For a while, I retraced my steps, going past the Crusaders clubhouse again, but we then took a sharp right, into the one orchard that was never harvested. This was where the apple canker had last taken hold every single tree was either felled or dead as a dodo. In the faint moonlight, the place seemed even more menacing.
Mac hadn’t said a word to me the entire time. I couldn’t help but feel that I was being taken on the Equestrian equivalent of a one-way ride. Who knows, maybe other stallions had tried to court Applejack in the past and maybe Big Mac had bumped them off and buried them out here.
No, that’s just stupid. This is Big Mac after all; the guy wouldn’t hurt a fly.
Arriving in a clearing, surrounded by broken trees, Mac turned to me.
“Alright, Bones. Now what did ya mean by that just now?” he asked, his voice still its usual calm, deep tone. I struggled for a moment to overcome my fear.
“Well, Mac,” I began hesitantly. “Ah suppose there’s no other way to put this. Ah like Applejack. You’re her older brother so Ah felt that Ah owed it to ya to tell you that Ah’m gonna be goin’ out with her sometime. And Ah want to ask if you’re okay with that.”
Big Mac fixed me with a steely gaze, evidently he needed further convincing.
“Ah promise Ah’ll treat her right, Mac.” Now he spoke.
“Eeyup,”
“You know Ah’m a decent guy,”
“Eeyup,”
“And Ah’d never do nothin’ to hurt AJ,”
“Nnope,”
“Because, then you’d have to set me straight. Right?”
“Eeyup,” That last one carried more than a hint of malice. My gaze couldn’t but be drawn to the felled trees; none of them had been cut down, Mac had bucked them down. I decided to go for broke.
“So, do Ah have your blessin’ or not?”
Big Macintosh turned away from me at that point. He walked out into the middle of the clearing, which was lit by the light of the waning moon. Curiously, he simply stared up at it, as if almost in conversation with the satellite. Eventually, he turned back and walked over to me, standing where he had been before. He stared straight at me for the longest time, almost as if he was looking through me, perhaps he was; the stallion is an excellent judge of character. Laying a hoof on my shoulder, he gave me his answer.
“You treat her right, Bones,” he said. He then lowered his voice. "If Ah ever hear talk you ain't been doin so, Ah'll haul your flank back here myself." He didn't need to hammer the point home, but I understood his reasons for doing so. With that, he turned and began to head back to the farm, with me following a few steps behind. And since that day, he has not brought the matter up again.
The two of us walked back to the farmhouse, after a while I stuck up a semi-light-hearted conversation about what was on the agenda in an attempt to break the previous tension. I honestly sometimes wonder if that conversation even happened. From the way Big Mac acted on the way back, you’d never guess that we’d been staring each other down moments ago. Everypony bar Applejack had gone to bed when we got back. The poor mare was tired, but nevertheless asked what had kept us both out so late. We merely replied that we’d been ‘chatting’.
The next morning was, strange, to say the least. So much had happened the previous day. It was almost as if this was just some strange dream, and I was observing through somepony’s eyes. Who knows, sometimes I do think all of this is a dream. I mean, what are the odds that I ended up in Equestria, as a pony, with my family and became friends with the Elements of Harmony? Nah, if this was a dream, I’d have woken up by now. Dreams don’t last for several months.
I rolled myself out of bed, landing with only some unsteadiness on my hooves. Trotting over to the far side of the room, I pulled back the curtains to let the beginnings of the morning light in. One advantage to getting up as early as the Apples’ do; since the sun is barely up, you don’t get that horrible moment where the sunlight pierces your eyes making you stagger about in pain.
Out across the acres, the first few red and orange hues of the sunrise could be seen, and high above the last few stars were fading into the encroaching blue. Still, I prefer to see this display reversed. For whatever reason, the acres look far more beautiful in the sunset than they do in the sunrise. As does a certain pretty orange mare I might add.
After making up the bed and working to make myself generally presentable, I headed downstairs. Perhaps by the hand of fate, or perhaps because we had rooms directly across from each other, I bumped into Applejack in the hallway. Unlike me, she hadn’t quite got herself sorted out and ready yet. For one thing, her mane didn’t have its usual ribbons in it, nor did she have her Stetson on. Her mane was sitting limply over her shoulders, that same pretty blond it always was. My mind suggested that I ask her to wear her mane like that more often; it certainly gave her a different look. However, my mind also pointed out that as of that moment, I’d been staring at her for a fair while. I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
“Oh, err, mornin’ ‘Jack,” I said, in an efforts to cover up the fact that I’d been staring.
“Mornin’ Bones,” she replied sweetly. “Sleep well?” she paused to let off a large yawn.
“Yeah, not too bad,” I paused in my own reply to stretch my back. “Think we’ll finish up with the health check today?” She nodded.
“Less than a hundred left, we’ll probably call it a half day today. Though Ah wouldn’t mind takin’ a look at those bramble patches too.” Out toward the edge of the farm, brambles had become something of an issue; given the chance they could choke trees. Due to the early hour and my brain not being properly warmed up, I asked her about her mane.
“Been a while since you’ve worn your mane like that, AJ. What’s the occasion?” The last time she’d not had her ribbons was on Nightmare Night. She turned her head and examined her loose blond mane with some surprise.
“Oh shoot, Ah knew I’d forgotten somethin’. Thanks, Bones.” I guess the morning makes fools of us all. Quickly doubling back to her room, she grabbed two red ribbons and tied her mane back into its usual, well, ponytail. I waited for her at the top of the stairs. Below I could already hear Granny Smith knocking about with pots and pans. A moment later, Applejack returned.
“Better?” I asked jokingly. Internally, one part of my mind was beating up the other for pointing out AJ’s mane, which was now back to normal. I much preferred her mane loose.
“Sure, Bones. And at least Ah know now why you had wanderin’ eyes just now.” Normally, that would have put me on the defensive, but today, my behaviour was quite different.
“Well you are quite the sight for sore eyes, ‘Jack,” I countered. Applejack and part of my own mind was stunned into silence. Did I just flirt with Applejack?