//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: Trixie Lulamoon and the Horrendous Hypothesis // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle library was still a big scary place too full of ponies, but the small study was much better for Sumac. He waited, having asked one of the volunteer librarians for the books he needed to study his idea. He had no clue where to even begin looking in this place, and he didn’t want to go into the main section, where it was far too crowded and noisy. In the corner, Trixie was reading a big book about practical enchantments and repair spells, what Trixie called ‘breadwinner’ magic. Sumac had tried reading a few books of that nature, but he didn’t understand very much. The only sound in the room was the soft tapping of Sumac’s hooves over the floor, the sounds of two ponies breathing, the faint rustle of pages being turned, and the ever present tick-tock of a wooden clock up on top of a shelf against the wall that had a brass plaque that reminded ponies, “There is always time for study.” Taking a deep breath, Sumac held it and counted to ten, trying to calm himself. His frogs felt sweaty and strange. He felt itchy with nervousness. The pressure was on and Sumac didn’t like pressure. The door opened and Sumac, expecting a librarian, turned. He saw something quite unexpected. The pony coming through the door was tall, majestic looking, and very, very purple. Her tri-coloured mane was pulled back into a loose, messy looking bun that was spilling out escaped strands. Silver framed reading glasses were perched on the end of her nose, and they sat a little crooked. And when she came closer, there was also the fact that her muzzle was covered in cookie crumbs. Sumac could see a sliver of a chocolate chip on her chin. He stared upwards in reverent awe, not knowing what to make of Princess Twilight Sparkle as she entered. “You… you must be Sumac. My name is Twilight. How are you, Sumac?” Looking up, Sumac wasn’t sure how to respond. He gulped and his legs felt sweaty. He took a deep breath and replied, “You have cookie crumbs all over your face.” “Sumac!” There was a gasp from Trixie. Twilight blinked, licked her lips, and then smiled, a merry twinkle in her eye. “So I do.” She paused, her infectious smile broadening, and looked down at Sumac. “My mother and father came to help me with all of this. My mother baked cookies and insisted that I have some, saying that a mother knows best.” Not knowing how to respond, Sumac nodded. Still sporting a sheepish expression, Twilight looked up at Trixie for a moment and then returned her attention to Sumac. “You made some very unusual requests, Sumac. Star Swirl’s census information for unicorns is a rather esoteric subject. We don’t have books about that—but before you panic, I can get them for you from Canterlot and the Royal Archives. I’ll admit, I’m already very curious why you would need that information.” “I had an idea when I was studying unicorn magic,” Sumac said, revealing nothing. “Well, we do have copies of the modern day unicorn census here in the library, and you want a copy of each census set at one hundred year intervals. I bet you have a spectacular hypothesis. Feel like sharing?” Looking up, Sumac could see that Twilight had a hopeful expression. She looked curious, and not in the way that most adults looked curious about what a foal had to say. Twilight seemed sincere, honest, as if she really wanted to know. Had Sumac the means and the vocabulary, he would have been able to say that most adults patronised foals, feigning interest for the sake of kindness, and Twilight Sparkle’s actual interest was a refreshing change. He felt his confidence soar, and for the first time Sumac started to believe that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mess this up. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to tell you now,” Sumac said as he squirmed from his right hooves to his left hooves, and then back again. “It isn’t my turn and that would be like cutting ahead in line. Trixie tells me that’s wrong and that line cutters need hexing.” Lifting her head, Twilight’s eyebrow raised as she looked at Trixie, who had sat down her book and was now looking quite worried. “It’s just an expression to drive home the point on how important it is not to cut in line.” Trixie’s hesitant, worried words spilled out of her mouth. “I don’t hex anypony, I swear.” Eyebrow lowering, Twilight looked back down at Sumac. “Very well, I shall be patient for the sake of fairness. It will take a few hours before your books get here from the Royal Archives. Might I make a suggestion?” “You’re a princess… why are you asking me?” Sumac asked. Lifting her head, Twilight made an exaggerated show of looking around the room, peering to and fro, her eyes darting to every possible angle, and then she focused once more upon Sumac. “Princess? Here? I don’t see one. Just one librarian, one curious little colt, and an old friend.” Sumac, facing Twilight Sparkle, did not see the expression that came over Trixie’s face. He stared up at Twilight with rapt attention, his mouth somewhat open, his eyes wide, and his mane spilling back from his face and down his neck. “The next few days are going to be busy ones and will probably be very stressful. Instead of staying here and being cooped up in this study, why don’t you go out to Sweet Apple Acres and visit with Applejack? She would love to see you… she told me so. Just spend a little time out there, have some fun, blow off a little steam, and maybe go swimming or something. Come back in the afternoon and your books will be waiting for you, I promise.” Twisting his head around, Sumac looked at Trixie and gave her a hopeful glance. Much to his relief, he saw her nod. His head whipped back around to look up at Twilight, who still had cookie crumbs on her face. “If you will excuse me, I have much to do and I must be going. It was a pleasure to meet you, Sumac.” Twilight Sparkle took a step backwards, waggled her ears, and gave Sumac a grin. “I look forward to our next meeting. Don’t study too hard.” Walking in silence, Sumac kept pace with Trixie, who was pulling the wagon behind her. There was a bit of an incline on the road, Sumac could feel it, he was pretty good at getting a feel for hills, but he was no earth pony. The sun was warm, a bit warmer than Sumac liked for it to be, and he was feeling a bit hot. He thought about the awful days of summer, when sleeping inside of the wagon felt more like sleeping in an oven. The hot smell of the wood filling his nose and making him want to sneeze as he tried to go to sleep. The winter was no better, as the wagon had no real means of heat. There was a tiny coal burning stove inside of the wagon, but it had trouble even boiling a kettle full of water and did nothing to heat the wagon, you could still see your breath when you were inside. Crawling into bed was both wonderful and awful; it was awful because the bed was cold, freezing even, and wonderful, because as soon as the bed got warm, it was nice to be beneath the many quilts. It was even nicer when Trixie pulled him into bed with her, even though he had spent much of the past winter complaining that he was a big colt that could sleep in his own bed. As they both came round a gentle bend, Sumac saw a big red barn just up ahead. “You made it,” Applejack said as Trixie unhitched herself from the wagon. “Big Mac, she brought the wagon so you could give it a once over. Make yourself useful, Mac.” “Eeyup.” Sumac, entranced, stood staring at the apple trees, of which there were many. His stomach gurgled a bit and he felt his mouth watering. A warm breeze ruffled his mane, pushing it off of his head and making his forelock spill down over his face, falling in between his eyes. A strange feeling welled up inside of Sumac, a peculiar feeling that he did not know how to process. He felt as though he was home. But this could not be possible. He had no memory of ever being here and this was not his home, but Applejack’s. A hoof poking him in the ribs startled Sumac from his thoughts and he heard Applejack’s voice in his ear. “Welcome home, little cousin. You just settle in and have yourself a nice time, you hear? If’n you need anything, anything at all, you just give a holler.” This was followed up by a wet, affectionate kiss upon his cheek, and Sumac, unable to deal with everything, shut down. He stood there, squirming, his ears twitching, trying to deal with being overwhelmed as shivery-shudders traveled up and down his spine. “He’s so sweet that if you left him in the rain, he’d melt,” Applejack said as she eyed Sumac. As Sumac stood there feeling bashful and bit self conscious, a young mare came running, her hooves thudding on the ground, her cherry red mane and tail streaming out behind her. She had a bright pink ribbon tied in her mane and a tool belt was around her middle, hammers and wrenches clanking as she sprinted. “Applejack, the twins are up to no good again. One of them has stopped up the tub and now water is overflowin’ right out the bathroom and down the stairs.” “Dagnabbit Apple Bloom, I told you to keep your eyes on them and not to look away for even one second.” Applejack shook her head, stomped her hoof, let out a snort of annoyance, and then took off running, heading for the house. Trixie, who looked at Big Mac for a moment, then down at Sumac, flicked her tail, and looked thoughtful. After a moment, she said, “Hang on, I’ll come and help!” Then, saying nothing else, she too ran off, chasing after Applejack and Apple Bloom. Feeling more than a little intimidated, Sumac watched as Big Mac examined the wagon. Sumac stood with all four of his hooves pressed together into one spot and even with his hooves held in such a way, just one of Big Mac’s hoofprints was bigger. Big Mac was big. A giant. And Sumac felt very, very small and insignificant compared to the big red stallion, who was going over the wagon with a wary, weathered eye. “Eenope.” Sitting down, Sumac wondered what was up. He looked at the wagon and he looked at Big Mac, who was frowning. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he guessed that it couldn’t be anything good. “Is… is something wrong?” Sumac asked, stammering from nervousness and a bit of fear. “Eeyup,” Big Mac replied as he too, sat down in the grass. “W-what?” Sumac looked at the wagon and felt his worry grow stronger. “I need to build Trixie a new wagon.” Big Mac looked at the wagon and sighed. “New wagon?” Sumac blinked, feeling very confused. “The only thing holding this wagon together is magical repair spells. It’s about to fall apart. The entire thing needs to be replaced. This ain’t something I can fix,” Big Mac said in a soft, subdued voice. “If the wind was to hit it wrong, it might just fall apart.” “So you are going to make a new wagon?” Sumac asked. “Eeyup.” “Why?” Sumac saw Big Mac’s head turn and he could see Big Mac’s green eyes glittering. Sumac felt his throat grow dry. He felt even more afraid, not of Big Mac, but because he didn’t want to appear to be stupid. He didn’t much care for feeling stupid. “I gave my word that I’d give the wagon a good fixing up. I said that I would do it. But I can’t. So to keep my word, I need to make a new wagon. That’s what stallions do, they keep their word. They stay honest.” Big Mac’s eyes narrowed and he stared at the wagon. “I don’t even know how that wagon is holding together.” “Why would you help Trixie though? I mean, you don’t really know her.” Sumac shook his head, trying to understand whatever lesson was being taught here. “Because, my word means something.” Big Mac turned to look at Sumac. “And because somepony has to help Trixie. She’s alone. It’s just her versus the whole wide world.” “She has me,” Sumac said in a squeaky whisper. “I try to help her… I really do… but I’m so small. I can’t do much. I want to do more but I don’t know how to help her and it scares me because Trixie is growing old and I’m so scared sometimes and I—” “Sumac…” Big Mac’s words made the colt fall silent. The big red stallion patted the ground beside him with his hoof, gesturing for Sumac to come closer. Patient, Big Mac waited, and was rewarded when Sumac scooted over and sat beside him. “Trixie’s not that old. She’s about the same age as Twilight.” Big Mac’s brows furrowed. “Now, I need for ya to listen to me, and I need you to be real grown up and mature, ‘cause what I’m about to say can be taken wrong. Are you listening?” Looking up at Big Mac, Sumac sniffled and nodded. The breeze blew again and the tall grass around Sumac tickled him, but he did not laugh. He was on the verge of tears and this felt far too serious. “Now then, a lot of ponies talk about equality… a pony is a pony is a pony. And that’s true.” Big Mac paused for a moment, blinked, and took a deep breath before he continued, “But when it comes to certain tasks, not all ponies are equal. No matter how much I might want to, I can’t control the weather. It might not be fair, but that is just how life is. Some ponies are going to be better at this job than others. Same is true for wagon pulling. Earth ponies are stronger and we’re just naturally better at wagon pullin’. Trixie has been pulling that wagon for a long, long time, and she’s a unicorn. It’s worn her out. I’d guess that it’s messed up her knees and her back and she’s in need of a rest… of the permanent variety.” Sumac felt his barrel hitching and it was difficult to breathe. He blinked away a few tears. Now was not the time for crying, now was the time to be as grown up as he could, even though he had no idea how to do that. “How do I be a stallion?” Sumac blurted out, feeling ashamed that he even needed to ask. There were no stallions in his life, just Trixie. He didn’t have anypony else to ask for advice. He felt his ears burning with shame and he looked away from Big Mac, staring off at some apple trees instead. “Ahem.” Big Mac cleared his throat. “A stallion looks after the mares in his life. All of them. He puts their needs ahead of his own. He keeps his word to them. He is patient, he is gentle, and he is kind. He does what needs to be done.” Eyes stinging, Sumac blinked, wondering what he could do. He wanted to do something, Trixie had done so much for him. Trembling, Sumac fought back tears, determined not to cry, wanting so very much to be grown up. “My sister Applejack, she got married,” Big Mac began in his low, baritone voice. “Now, the pony she married, he started off real nice. But he wasn’t much of a stallion. He felt insecure because Applejack had to go off on adventures. She’s the Element of Honesty and when things happen, Applejack tends to head towards the trouble rather than run away from it. She’s a hero, she is. And her husband, he wanted Applejack to settle down. Be a homebody.” Sumac, his ears standing up straight, turned and looked at Big Mac. He saw the stallion shaking his head and his eyes were narrowed. Big Mac’s ears were splayed out and the muscles in Big Mac’s jaw quivered. “Applejack, true to herself, did not change. She stayed a hero and left home at the drop of a hat when her friends needed her, or when the world needed her. And one day, after Applejack got called away to deal with some crisis with her friends, her husband, he just walks away, leaving behind the twins. His own foals. He just walks away and we ain’t seen him since.” “So… he just quit?” Sumac, astonished, didn’t know what else to say. “Eeyup.” Big Mac looked down at Sumac. “A real stallion does what needs to be done, no matter what. It doesn’t matter if it’s raising his family or building a wagon just to keep his word. He does what’s right and applebuck everything else.” “That’s awful.” Sumac, who no longer felt like crying, sat there, trying to take in everything. He stared down at the grass, which rustled in the breeze, and he thought about everything that Big Mac had said. “So… how do I do what is right? When I grow up, what do I do to be a stallion? Where do I begin? How do I start?” “You start now,” Big Mac replied. “You do everything you can to help Trixie. You do your best not to sass her. You try to make her life easier. And when you grow up, you look after her. She gave up her knees and her back to make sure you’re taken care of. She’s gonna need somepony to look after her.” Big Mac fell silent for a moment and his lips pressed together. He let out a long, wistful sigh. “My Granny Smith… she looked after us after our parents died. She was all by herself. And it was the three of us little ones and this apple orchard. Somehow, she took care of us and the whole orchard.” Big Mac took another deep breath. “She was determined to keep us together. And she did. It messed up her hips, but she managed. When I got bigger, when I got older, I did everything I could to help her, and when she got older, I took care of her. It was the right thing to do. That is what a stallion does, Sumac… the right thing. He squares his debts.” Lifting his head, Sumac’s ears stood erect and the colt’s confusion began to melt away. He couldn’t do very much now, but he could do more later. He felt his heart thudding inside of his barrel. He could start now. He had one mare in his life, and that was Trixie. She meant the world to him. She was… his friend. “I don’t have a lot of time, I have to return to the library and study later this afternoon, but could I help you build a wagon?” Sumac asked. “Oh, I dunno,” Big Mac replied. “Wagon building is grown up work. It’s hard, sweaty work for us earth ponies.” Ears twitching, Sumac’s brows furrowed. “I don’t have very much magic, but I can help… I’ve used a saw before and a hammer.” “Hmm, I dunno.” Big Mac stared at the wagon. “I can help,” Sumac insisted, “I just need somepony to show me what to do. I’m a fast learner. Please let me help?” “Hmm… a’ight.” Big Mac grinned and looked down at Sumac. “Today, you get to be a stallion. You’re lookin’ after the mare in your life. Good on you, Sumac Apple.” Feeling proud, Sumac was eager to get started.