Buck the trees, bring the filled baskets in, place baskets, buck the trees, bring the filled baskets in, place baskets, buck the trees, bring filled baskets in, place baskets, etcetera etcetera, ETCETERA! “When will my job end?” thought AppleJack draggin the baskets into the barn. It seemed with every tree she bucked there was an infinite more she had to buck. “Why am I so prideful? Why didn’t I just ask my friends to help?” AppleJack pressed her back against the heavy baskets loaded with apples.
She needed to do her job regardless of any previous understanding between her and somepony she needed to forget and never come back to. The pain in her chest was a lot harder than the burning of her muscles (which was pretty bad), but she had a job to do, and that job was all her own. All she needed was some help, though. Help that nopony else could give. She needed somepony to talk to.
Applejack went inside and walked over to her desk. She pulled paper out of the drawers and started her message:
Dear princess Celestia,
I need help. I need somepony to talk to.
You are a pegasus. All day, you’ve been flying, patrolling the area, making sure that the skies are clear for the remaining week. But this is isn’t even your job. “Why exactly were you stuck doing it?” you ask yourself often. Celestia had called you to doing this calling at a meeting with you at the post office where you work and you reluctantly accepted. She never said there was a shortage of cloud-busters or even that the clouds were causing a problem. In fact, the sky looks absolutely bare, not a cloud in sight.
You’re rounding off your day of boring patrolling when you remember that Celestia told you to give extra attention to the south-east corner of Ponyville. Being a mail-pony you know that that is the residence of the Apple family. And now for whatever reason, you have to go and overlook the entire orchard for clouds that do not exist.
The orchard was certainly clean. You looked everywhere and can’t find a single one. You start home, completely certain that you’d done your job. Somepony down below thought was quite the opposite. The mare had orange fur, freckles, and a brown cowboy hat. You look down at the mare’s face, which was happens to have all of one apple balancing itself on her eye. Her whole body lay on top of a wide basket of apples and the mare lay fast asleep.
“Pardon?” you ask, flying over her.
No response.
“Hey, ma’am?” you inch closer.
The mare awakened with a start.
“What?!” responded the mare.
“Sorry,” you assume that apparently she had meant to be sleeping in a very odd position.
“What time is it?” she acknowledged before you had the chance to respond any more than you already have.
“It’s…”
“Oh, no.” the mare took one at the position of the sun and ran to move the buckets that she had just been laying in.
“It’s 7:12,” you notice her frantic movements and respond, “Can I help you?”
“[sigh] Yes, you can help move these barrels to the barn over there. Ya mind me askin’ what yer name is?”
You respond with your name.
“Well then… nice to meet you, I’m Applejack, but my friends call me AJ.”
“So, you haven’t been getting a lot of sleep then, AJ?”
“No, I haven’t, I’ve been kept awake by more than one thing as of late.”
“What would that be?”
“The...orchard work,” she responded sounding more like a question than an answer.
Although that seemed a weird response, you mind your own business and continue to walk beside her, asking “non-personal” questions.
“Wow, you must have your hooves full with this orchard,” you continue the conversation.
“I sure do.” She spoke before mumbling to herself almost inaudible to you, “along with other things.”
AppleJack guides you along the narrow, winding path through the orchard until you’ve finally moved the barrels all the way to the entrance to the barn. She then looks in your direction, “Thanks for helping,” she offered.
“No problem,” you respond confused. It was short work, but she appreciated it. You expected to stay longer and help out more, but apparently this was all she needed. Wasn’t it? How is it that she doesn’t need more help considering that before hoof she didn’t get enough sleep and now she doesn’t need more sleep?
She was distracting you from something. She didn’t want help for some reason other than her work.
AppleJack started shoving against the barrels to get them into the shed. Now that you weren’t helping, the barrels didn’t budge and the mare thrusted to absolutely no resolve.
You fly over the mare to a barrel on the other side of the large stack that she has been pressing on and you pick it up to move into the barn.
AppleJack manages to move the large pile of barrel about an inch without the worry of one barrel holding her back on the rest. The stack stops there and she again struggles vainly.
“Are you okay?” you ask the mare.
“I’m fine! Are you done helpin’?”
“No,” you acknowledge, “I’m just trying to help as much as I can. You just had your hooves so full and…” your words fade.
“I...I get it,” AppleJack continued, “I just need to be alone right now. You can go home and maybe come back tomorrow if ya want.”
You think about it before responding, “okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
AppleJack took off her hat and looked down at her hooves. Her nails were scratchy from all of her work. Everything was worn. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her head ached from not getting enough sleep. Her hair became dry from being in the sun too long.
“This is why he left,” AppleJack proclaimed to herself, “Nopony wants to be seen with a work pony like me.”
Applejack walked to her house. It was time to finally sleep and maybe finally forget whatever had happened that led to her melancholy state.
You return to the orchard the next day. You look down at your watch. It’s 9:00, the barrels outside the bar are still here and there’s no sign of AppleJack.
Since it is that way, you move the barrels into the barn, taking one barrel in and then going back and betting another, until all of them were assembled on the inside of the red wooden barn.
You set out to get more for the mare you met yesterday. The sky was still clear. You had no reason to not help the mare. So, you went for more.
AppleJack quickly interrupted that, though. You started towards the doors at the front of the barn where AppleJack stood stunned.
“How exactly did ya get all the barrels into th’ barn?” she asked, her eyes riddled with sleep.
“I just moved one in at a time,” you respond, emotionless, “Are you still okay?”
The mare at the doorway sighed and hesitated before responding, “I’m not, I need a lot more help than I’ll ever be able to get. I need a certain kind of help, but I’m not getting it,” AppleJack rubbed her eye and a tear fell around the hoof.
It became apparent that the poor mare had a more emotional health issue than anything else. She wasn’t suffering too much from her job, but from her personal life. You stand awkwardly trying to find a reasonable response.
“Well… I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ll get over it.”
“No. I’ve tried. I’ve tried to sleep it off. I’ve taken a walk, I’ve even taken a break from work one day, but I can’t shake this moment.”
“You’re working yourself too hard,” you try at her, noticing the patterns in her ways of coping with whatever it was she needed help with.
“No, I’m not,” she responded.
“You’re trying to get rid of the pain immediately. It’s not going to go away overnight. Nopony is going to be able to make you feel better immediately. You just need to get over it one day at a time,” you look back at the barrels you had just moved, “it’s like these barrels. You’re moving them all at once, but you’ll never get them into the shed unless you try to lift the weight one at a time… a-and then it’ll get easier. You’ll see. Everything will be okay. You just need time.”
AppleJack wiped away a tear and looked up at you from her before still stance.
She thought about how to help herself out and formed a sentence in her head. A sentence just for you.
You walk towards the door to let yourself out for more help. She puts her on your shoulder and keeps you away.
“Thanks,” She said, “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome,” you respond.
“Are you available for dinner tonight?” asked the mare, trying to heal her problem.
“Certainly,” you respond, “I would love to.”
It wasn’t much. It was dinner for tonight, but it was just a step. It was the first step to something nice that you two can share, and one step at a time, it became love.
Everyone deserves help.
Everyone deserves to pace themselves.
Everyone can earn a future through little things.