//------------------------------// // X - Sweet Apple Acres // Story: Mortal Coil // by Reeve //------------------------------// Big Mac turned out to be a fine travelling companion, rarely speaking, leaving big silences for me to fill in myself, but anytime he did talk, it was oddly profound. For the big, strong farmer, he came off as surprisingly thoughtful and intelligent, it’s always nice to see stereotypes being challenged. He was also one of the most powerful stallions I had ever met, when I say he kept a steady pace the entire journey, I mean that never once did he drop below a speed that most ponies would have to trot to match, but for him, was a mere swift stride. I was concerned that he was pushing himself too hard, but he insisted he could handle it, that he was well used to the journey between Pivot and their Homestead. However, as insistent as he was, I had to put my hoof down when we reached the bridge that would mark just over the halfway point for our journey. He had pulled the cart nonstop with me on top of it, by the time we reached the bridge, it was well past midnight and he had no intentions of stopping to rest. “It’s alright,” he told me, as I jumped off the cart to stretch my legs. “If you’re tired, you can nap in the cart and I’ll keep walkin’. Nopony is gonna cause me any trouble.” “If I’m tired?!” I repeated in disbelief. “How are you not tired?!” Big Mac just shrugged. “Us Apples have always been hard workers,” he explained. “We need to be, there aren’t many of us on the farm, so when one of us goes to the cities to sell the produce, they need to be quick about it so they can get back and carry on workin’.” “Well I can’t fault you for your work ethic,” I stated. “But you should at least take a break for an hour, if you’re not going to sleep for the night. If you keep going at that rate, you’ll burn yourself out, then you won’t be doing much farming at all.” Big Mac didn’t argue with me on that one, so I decided to press my advantage. “Why don’t you unhook yourself from that and sit down for a bit,” I suggested, although my tone made it clear he wasn’t getting an option. “I’ll gather up some sticks and light us a fire.” The river we had arrived at was one that split off from the Lonesome Lake, and travelled west into the Tranquil Forest where it led off to various sources. The water itself flowed away from the forest into the Lake, where it would then go south along a very winding path into the Horseshoe Bay next to Port Mule. This particular river was lined with small patches of woods, so it wasn’t difficult to gather up enough dead wood to light up a small fire back where we parked the cart. I hadn’t had any need up until that point to use the matches my father had insisted on me taking, but as the pair of us sat on either side of the fire, I was glad he had talked me into taking them. “So tell me about your farm,” I began. “And your family, who all lives and works with you?” “Well the farm is called Sweet Apple Acres,” he began, before I quickly interrupted him. “Wait, the Sweet Apple Acres?” I asked, receiving a nod. “Oh I know where you’re from now. I feel like an idiot for not realising it sooner, I used to pass by your place if ever I was heading to or from Pivot, back before the war that is.” “That’s okay,” he replied, brushing it off. “You did say you had been away for… two years, was it? You probably just forgot.” “It would seem so,” I said, pulling out my map from my satchel. “It’s not marked on my map.” “Doesn’t really qualify as a town,” Big Mac explained. “Although it’s actually grown quite a bit in recent years. As for mah family, right now there’s just Granny Smith, mah sisters Applejack and Applebloom, and mah cousins Caramel and Braeburn.” “And you can manage the whole farm, and all the deliveries and trading with just the six of you?” I asked it amazement. “Well actually, Granny is too old to be working the fields,” Big Mac continued. “But she does most of the quality control and preparing the products for sellin’. As for Applebloom, she’s only recently started working with the rest of us, but she’s still too little be hauling carts anywhere. Although sayin' that, she's pretty good at driving the harvester, she's always had a knack for those weird contraptions. That leaves the bulk of the manual labour and the deliveries to be done by me, Applejack and the cousins.” “That’s really impressive,” I told him with all honesty. “I wish I was as hard a worker as you clearly are, once I get settled in home and get the old business up and running, I’ll have to get my flank in gear.” “Don’t go rushing your work now,” Big Mac warned. “We’ve been doin’ what we do our whole lives, by the sound of it, your trade requires more finesse than ours, so you’re probably better off working at your own pace.” Yet more words of wisdom from Big McIntosh, I might have to hire him as my life coach. The rest of the hour passed by in relative silence, with only the occasional small talk to interrupt us from the rest we had stopped to get. After a while I noticed that Big Mac was starting to get quite fidgety, so I decided it was time to let him keep walking. “Do you want to head on now?” I asked rhetorically, standing up and smothering the fire with my magic. “Eyup.” We were back on the road within five minutes, as we trundled along, Big Mac suggested again that I catch some sleep while we travelled. Initially I objected and said I would be fine, but after a short space of time, I found myself slouching lower and lower in the cart, my eyelids feeling heavier and heavier until… A particularly large bump in the road caused me to wake up with a yelp, sitting up poker straight and looking around wildly. “Sorry,” Big Mac called back. “Just went over a rock in the road.” “No worries,” I replied, stifling a yawn. I must have slept for quite a while, as the sun was now peeking out over the lowest sections of the Wyvern Heights and the air was filled with the chirping of birds. “We’re almost there,” Big Mac called out again. Looking forward, I saw that he wasn’t lying. We were coming down one final slope in the road, the Sweet Apple Acres homestead sitting within throwing distance. Well, throwing distance for Big McIntosh, but still pretty close. Panning my eyes to the right of the farm, I saw the famous apple orchard. It was split up into three main bodies, although I noticed that the one furthest right of the farm, had been burnt to a crisp. “Did something happen?” I asked, gesturing to the dead portion of the orchard. “Was there a fire or something?” “Yes,” Big Mac said, his voice clear, but oddly stern. I decided not to press the subject and allow Big Mac to complete the journey to the homestead in silence. While I had indeed seen the place in passing years before, I had never really gotten close enough to examine it any great detail, I never had any need to do so. However, the little I did remember was proof enough that it had grown quite a lot, just as Big Mac has said. It now looked like a miniature village, with various buildings laid out in neat formation of one another, giving the whole place a very cosy feel. We continued to travel on the road, which ran parallel to the perimeter fence; I stood up in the cart so I could get a better look into the different fields beyond. The one directly to the carts right had a flock of sheep in it, which were herding towards the picket fence to get a closer look at us. Beyond that field were a few empty ones, as well as some growing various crops other than apples. I noticed corn and wheat, the idea that they farmed more than just apples gave me even more respect for Big Mac and his family. We quickly reached the entrance to farm, a lane split off from the road and headed directly up to the homestead, with a wooden archway marking the entrance through the fence, a sign hung from it. “Sweet Apple Acres,” I read aloud. “Are you glad to be home?” “Eyup,” Big Mac replied before turning off the road, passing under the archway and making his way up the lane to the farm buildings. As we moved, I decided to hop off the cart and give my legs a stretch. I still had to trot to keep up with Big Mac, but I figured I had allowed him to carry me about long enough. At the end of the dusty laneway, we arrived in a small yard surrounded by grey brick buildings of varying sizes. Only the building directly opposite us stood out, that I presumed to be the farmhouse where Big Mac and his family lived. Without a word, Big Mac turned away from me and began dragging his cart off between two of the buildings, I decided to wait there in the yard for him to return. The buildings were very quaint, with their thatched roofs and red painted doors; some had external staircases made from stone or wooden ladders to reach second floors. Peeking in through some of the darkened windows I saw that the buildings were used for a variety of things, from equipment storage to animal pens, one building even looked like it was used for blacksmithing. The yard too had a rustic charm, with old cartwheels and wooden barrels leaning up against the outside of buildings, there was also a well in the very centre of the yard. The farm house was much bigger than any of the buildings around me however, with two stories on top of foundations, and the dormer windows suggested that there was an attic room on top of all that. The walls of the house were made from horizontal wooden panelling, painted white. The roof was comprised of red tiles as opposed to thatch, although the doors and shutters on the windows were the same red as the doors on the brick buildings around me. The front of the house had an extended deck on the first floor, covered by a veranda which was topped by its own narrow section of roof that met the wall of the second floor. The house was definitely not what I would have associated with a farm, but clearly the Apple family weren’t about to live in squalor, and while they may not be living in a mansion, they clearly looked after themselves. Speaking of the Apple family, it was at that point that I heard Big Mac return, but as I turned to face him, I saw that he wasn’t alone. The pony walking with him was a mare, much closer to my own size, although even from a distance I could see that she was far better built than I could ever hope to be. Her coat was a light orange, her mane and tail a pale blonde, both tied back in red ribbons. She wore no clothes beyond a worn, brown Stetson upon her head. I guessed that this was the sister Big Mac had mentioned, although at the time I couldn’t for the life of me remember her name. I briefly wondered whether she would be as friendly as her brother or not, although it quickly became apparent that there was nothing to fear, as when she saw me, she flashed me a wide grin. “Howdy there Sugarcube,” she greeted in a loud, merry voice. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. The name’s Applejack, and I want to give you a big welcome to Sweet Apple Acres on behalf of the whole family.” “The pleasure’s all mine,” I stated, a little overwhelmed by her instant friendliness. “My name is Rarity.” “Well just you make yourself at home here Rarity,” Applejack continued, shaking my hoof with such force that it was left vibrating even after she let go. “Mac here told me all about what’s goin’ on, told me about how you helped those nice ponies up in Pivot.” “He told you about that,” I murmured, blushing slightly. “That he did,” Applejack boasted, giving her brother a rough pat on the back, who looked rather sheepish at being called out. “And let me tell you, I know that lady Grass Snake and her kids, knowing what you did for them… well that makes you a friend in mah book.” “I don’t know what to say,” I replied uncertainly. “Well you’ll have plenty of time to think of something,” Applejack cut across. “Mac says you’re headed on down to Mule, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.” “Uh, thank you!” I uttered in disbelief. “Thank you so much.” “Think nothin’ of it,” Applejack assured me. “Now we were all just wrapping up work to head in for some lunch, why don’t you go on ahead and we’ll be in in a minute?” After quickly agreeing and saying goodbye, I watched as Applejack trotted back the way she came, I assumed to fetch her cousins and the other sister. I glanced over at Big Mac, my eyes wide, my head swimming with questions. “She seemed very energetic,” I said first, a little lamely. “She ain’t always like that,” Big Mac replied, a little solemnly. “We got lucky today, she was already in a good mood before I found her. And then when I told her about you and what you did when we met, she was over the moon.” “So she isn’t always happy like that?” I asked as we began walking towards the farm house. “Enope,” he replied, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “She’s been having a hard time lately, she’s pretty much in charge of this place and she works herself to death over it, and that’s not even mentioning the war…” I was going to ask what he meant by that, but decided against it and shut my mouth at the last second. We were all getting along very well; I didn’t want to risk upsetting things by being nosey. As we entered the house, Big Mac wiped his hooves on the mat and called out to his Granny, informing her that they had a visitor. Granny Smith hobbled into the front room a minute after, while I was wiping the soles of my boots. She was a wizened old mare, reminding me in many ways of Willow back in Pivot, only Granny Smith’s coat was lime green, and despite her rickety limbs, she seemed to possess much more energy than the other. “Well ain’t this a surprise,” she began in a high pitched voice. “And here was me ready to give up on you Mac, and then all of a sudden you show up with this pretty little thing…” “Oh, it’s not like that…” I began quickly, panicking slightly at the idea of a misunderstanding developing, but I stopped when she began laughing to herself and Big Mac rolled his eyes. “Oh I’m just yankin’ your tail dearie,” Granny Smith said, chuckling. “Everypony knows our Big Mac’s barn doors don’t swing that way anyway.” “I didn’t know,” I muttered to myself while my cheeks turned red. “O’course, if you fancy taking a look at his cousins you’d be more than welcome,” Granny Smith continued with a wink. “Granny, this is Rarity,” Big Mac began to explain, cutting through his grandmother’s antics. “She’s gonna be stayin’ here until she decides to continue on down to Mule.” “Say no more,” Granny Smith replied. “Apples have always been known for their hospitality, even when I lived on the first Sweet Apple Acres back home in Equestria. That dang war may have scared ponies off, but this might just be a sign that things are finally gettin’ back on track.” “You used to live in Equestria?” I asked, a little surprised. “That’s right,” Granny Smith replied proudly as she led me into the kitchen where she was already in the middle of setting the table. “I even met Princess Celestia herself, back when I was just a young’un. My folks petitioned her to give them some land to start up a farm; she obliged and gave us the pastures that we turned into the first Sweet Apple Acres.” “So how did you end up here?” I asked from the table, while Granny Smith and Big Mac busied themselves with laying out the food. “Is the first Sweet Apple Acres still running?” “Oh it is, bigger than ever, from what from mah cousin Apple Rose tells me,” Granny Smith replied, placing a large plate of apple strudels in the centre of the table. “As for why ah left, ah just decided it was time for a change, time to go out and see more of the world. Although it wasn’t until ah was married that ah actually did leave, we had intended just coming over here for our honeymoon, but we liked it so much and saw so much potential for a second farm, that we decided to stay in the end.” “Hey, that’s how my parents ended up living here as well,” I replied, which gave us something to laugh about. It was at that moment that Applejack entered the kitchen, followed by two tan stallions, who I guessed were her cousins. “Smells great Granny,” she announced. “Only the best for a guest.” I smirked at that as she took a seat next to me. Now that she was closer and I wasn’t being distracted by conversation, I could make out the finer details in her appearance, such as her triple apple cutie mark, her vibrant green eyes, and the freckles that were uncommon in a mare her age. “Is Applebloom not here?” Applejack asked, looking about the kitchen for the youngest Apple. “Was she not with you?” Big Mac asked from across the table. “She was, but she disappeared just before you two arrived,” Applejack explained. “I figured she her snuck off early to get something to eat ‘fore the rest of us.” “Well she hasn’t been in this kitchen,” Granny Smith declared, sitting herself at the head of the table. “If she had been, ah would have made her lend me a hoof.” “She’s probably off playing with Winona,” one of the cousins suggested, the one wearing a brown jacket. “Well she’ll need to hurry her flank up,” Applejack said, grumbling slightly. “Before somepony…” Applejack was cut off from whatever she had been about to say, by a terrified shriek coming from outside. “Applebloom!” Applejack cried out, leaping out of her chair before charging to the back door. Big Mac and the two cousins were quick to follow, even Granny Smith tried to hobble after them, a fearful look in her eye. I hurried out of my own seat and joined Granny Smith in the back yard; I could see the others charging off into one of the orchards. “Wait here,” I told Granny Smith. “I’ll go help them.” Before she could argue or agree, I sped off, galloping down the trail towards the spot where Applejack and the others had vanished into the orchard.