//------------------------------// // 6 - Screen Door // Story: Homemade Kites and Whatnot // by getmeouttahere //------------------------------// Even though the warm morning sun is hidden by the clouds outside, she keeps to her daily routine, resting in the usual place. Her piercing brown eyes periodically shift from the back orchards to the pony perched atop the nearby ladder and the many tools arrayed upon its fold-out shelf. When a wayward nail rolls off the edge of the shelf and clatters to the floor while she watches, she quickly speaks up to let the preoccupied pony know what’s happened. “Woof!” “Aw shoot, did I drop another one?” Apple Bloom groans, setting her hammer on the shelf before hopping down the ladder. “I’m never gonna get this thing fixed at this rate!” She trots over to pick up the fallen nail, then looks up at her unfinished project and frowns. The farmhouse’s back screen door leans slightly inward as if to mock her, leaving a gap of several inches between the door and the frame. “This is harder than I thought. No matter what I do I can’t get it balanced right.” Her ears fold back and she turns away. “Maybe this was a dumb idea to start with…” “Woof! Woof!” Winona declares with a wag of her tail, attempting to cheer the forlorn pony up. Apple Bloom smiles and reaches a hoof over to pet the energetic border collie. “Aw, thanks, girl. You’re right— sittin’ here and worryin’ about it isn’t gonna get the job done, is it?” She hops back up, squaring her shoulders. “I guess it’s like Granny always says, if you’ve got time to worry about somethin’, you’ve got time to do somethin’ about it.” Winona barks in agreement, happy to see her little master’s confidence return. Though somewhat disappointed that she couldn’t coax any bellyrubs out of her before she got back on the ladder, she’s content to settle back on the rug near the door and close her eyes, trying to ignore the sound of hammering as it starts up once more. Late last summer, the family decided to make some improvements to the farmhouse, one of which was the addition of a mesh screen door to the back porch. The idea was that they could leave the back door open with the screen door closed on windy days to enjoy a cool breeze from outside the house while not having to worry about insects and other pests getting inside. As with most other construction projects around the farm, Big Mac ended up building the new door from scratch, and he did a great job. Assembled and installed in one afternoon, it fit perfectly, and the Apples were able to enjoy it for almost the entire next morning in comfort. But despite how well built the door was, there was one factor Big Mac didn’t consider in his plans. Winona always liked to laze in the sun near the back door during the mornings, and with the door left open like it was with the new screen, she was able to sun herself and keep a watchful eye on the orchard at the same time. When the slight movement of a rabbit or some other small animal caught her attention, she went after it immediately, tearing right through the screen mesh and leaving a border collie-sized hole behind. Realizing that this was going to be an ongoing problem no matter what they did, Mac made some adjustments. A slight modification to the screen door’s latch made it so that Winona would simply push the door open instead of tearing through the screen when she saw something interesting outside. Thus, the problem was solved… at least for a few days. One evening, Apple Bloom stood at the back door, calling Winona for dinner. She gleefully responded to the call, bolting from the western fields and tearing yet another hole in the mesh before the filly could even open the door for her. Sensing that this might become another trend, Big Mac added two-way hinges and a new latch to the screen door to allow it to swing in either direction, hopefully fixing things for good. But this introduced a new problem in that once the door swung either inward or outward on its hinges, it wouldn’t swing back closed again by itself. If Winona wanted to come in or out, the door would be left intact but wide open, allowing bugs to get in the house and defeating its purpose entirely. Of course, Mac meant to fix it, but on a farm, if a project isn’t super important, it often gets tossed to the wayside for other things. There were chores to be done and apples to be harvested, so the door was left alone over the fall and winter as the weather got colder. But now spring has come around again. The days are warming up, and soon the time’ll come when having the back door open will do wonders to keep the house cool. This is something that needs to be fixed, which is why Apple Bloom is perched atop a ladder, hammering away. “C’mon… I know I can get this!” she grunts around the hammer in her mouth, hitting the nail one more time for good measure before moving to the next. Even though it wasn’t on the list of chores her siblings left for her, this was something that had been bugging her for a while now. She’d thought about the problem for a few days, and eventually came up with quite a clever solution. Two small blocks of wood were added to the interior and exterior of the doorframe, to which are attached small elastic cords that connect to the screen door. The bands are meant to be loose enough to allow the door to open freely, yet tense enough to pull it back closed when left alone. The trick is equalizing the tension between them to the point where they’ll guide the door back into its two-way latch no matter which way it opens. Wiping her brow, Apple Bloom finishes nailing the last block in place. Everything looks good as far as she can tell, but there’s only one way to know for sure… “All right, girl! Give it a try!” At her little master’s command, Winona jumps up and runs out the door. It easily opens all the way for her and gets pulled back by the cords, first swinging inward past the latch, then slowly leveling out as its momentum wanes. Apple Bloom watches with wide eyes, silently cheering as the door comes to a halt. “C’mon… c’mon… c’mon!” When she hears the click of the door settling into its latch, her silent cheers become real ones. She did it! Even without help or instructions from her big brother or sister, she was able to fix a real problem on her own! The over-excited filly can’t resist the urge to jump for joy. Though it might have been a better idea to wait until she’d climbed down from the ladder first, because she soon finds she’s sailing through the air and quickly plummeting toward a painful encounter with the dining room’s hardwood floor. “W-Waaaaaaah~! *Ooof!*” Apple Bloom grunts as she makes contact with the ground a little earlier than she expected. Oddly enough, the landing itself was much softer than she was expecting, too. Cautiously, she opens one eye, only to be greeted by a pink mass of cotton candy-like mane and two sapphire eyes staring back at her. “Nice belly flop, Apple Bloom, your form was great! You got the screaming and the flailing hooves and everything just right! But you should really be more careful, ‘cause most ponies I know like to dive into lakes and pools and rivers and stuff instead of their kitchen floors. I mean, that looks like it would hurt.” “P-Pinkie Pie?!” Apple Bloom gasps. She startles and leaps to her hooves, nearly losing her balance when she realizes she’s landed on the pink pony’s back. “W-What are ya doin’ here?” “I’m dropping off lunch and dinner, silly!” she chirps, carrying her newfound passenger over to the kitchen table where several covered pans have been laid out. “I bet you finished up the leftover quiche yesterday, so today I brought apple cobbler and cornbread!” Apple Bloom hops from Pinkie’s back into a kitchen chair, then nudges the cover off of one of the pans. The aroma of freshly baked cornbread causes her mouth to water, and she has to fight the urge to chow down right then. “Thanks a lot, Pinkie Pie, it looks delicious!” “Aw, don’t worry about it! I’m just glad I got here when I did.” She glances with curiosity over to the ladder and the toolbox placed nearby. “What were you doing, anyway? Is there something wrong with the door?” Before Apple Bloom can answer, Winona returns from the back yard. Nudging the screen door open with her nose, she immediately runs to greet Pinkie, happily barking and wagging her tail. While Pinkie crouches down to give the friendly pooch some attention, Apple Bloom watches the door like a hawk. It swings back and forth a few times, then finds the latch with a satisfying ‘click’. “Not anymore there ain’t,” she declares with a proud smile. “Oh, so you fixed it, huh? Neat! But I don’t remember that being on Applejack’s list…” “It wasn’t. It was just somethin’ I felt like doin’ ‘cause I knew it needed to be done.” She turns away, a slight blush on her cheeks. “And also… I guess ‘cause I wanted to prove to myself that I could.” Pinkie nods in understanding. “Well, it sure looks to me like you did a good job. Sometimes I wish I could be good at fixing stuff like you and AJ!” Apple Bloom’s blush deepens. “Aw, shucks… it’s not like it’s that great. But thanks all the same.” Pinkie stands to her hooves again, allowing Winona to scamper off to find her second favorite mid-morning napping spot. Smiling, she lifts both pans of food and carries them over to the fridge, careful not to disturb the various papers, pens and crayons scattered upon the kitchen table while she casually asks, “So, do you have any super fun plans for today after such a job well done?” The filly’s expression instantly brightens. “Actually, yeah... yeah, I do! I’m goin’ to go see Mr. Anon again today. I’ve been helpin’ him build some kites.” “Kites?!” Pinkie gasps, shutting the refrigerator door so hard it causes the kitchen’s hanging pots and pans to rattle. “Oh wow, that does sound like fun!” “Yeah, it really is! After you left me there the day before yesterday, we got to talkin’, and he asked me to help him put some kites he was workin’ on together. And then yesterday we flew ‘em, and today we’re gonna make some even better ones!” The giddy party pony begins to hop up and down with glee. “See, see, see?! Was I right about Non-non or what?! When’s he’s not all,” she rears up and drops her voice several octaves, “‘How the heck did you get in here, Pinkie?!’ or ‘Darn it, I was trying to sleep, Pinkie!’ or ‘Those were my favorite begonias, Pinkie!’, he’s really fun to be around, right?” “Yeah, you were right,” Apple Bloom agrees, giggling at the impression. “Mr. Anon really is a nice fella and even downright funny sometimes once you get to know him.” Pinkie nods enthusiastically, still bouncing in place. “But… but there’s somethin’ else about him, too,” she continues, casting her gaze to the floor and scrunching her snout as she considers what to say next. “It’s like… you know that feelin’ you get when you’re lookin’ for something you lost, and after searchin’ and searchin’ all day, you finally find it?” She looks up at the older pony, who’s since ceased her hopping, though her trademark smile is still present. “I can’t rightly say why, but… sometimes when I’m talkin’ to Mr. Anon, I sort of feel that way. But it’s weird, ‘cause I haven’t lost anything lately, and sure haven’t found anything, either! Do you have any idea what that could mean, Pinkie Pie? Is there word for it that I don’t know or somethi— wha? Hey!” Apple Bloom’s question is cut short by the pink hoof that suddenly starts tussling her mane. She quickly retreats by hopping out of her chair, but Pinkie stays where she is, somewhat paralyzed by an unavoidable giggle fit when she catches the smaller pony’s look of half-hearted annoyance at having to fix her ribbon. “You’re thinking too hard, silly filly!” she exclaims through her laughter. “I mean, mayyybe there’s a word for it… you could always ask Twilight, ‘cause she knows all kinds of different words that all mean the same thing! But I think all it really means is that spending time with Non-non makes you happy. It’s easy to tell, because just now, you had the biggest smile I’ve seen on you all week!” The smaller pony blushes and looks away, but her smile doesn’t fade. “Yeah… I guess you’re right. We have been havin’ a lot of fun, and I suppose that’s all that really matters in the end…” She glances out the back door to the bright blue sky and the long line of clouds lingering above the back orchard. “Seein’ something that you worked real hard on flyin’ through the sky like it was meant to and not catchin’ on fire or somethin’ feels right good. I never really knew there were so many kinds of kites that you could make, and they all fly different ways, too! I can’t wait to see what we end up makin’ today!” “Oh, I wish I could come help!” Pinkie laments, deflating a little. “But I can’t, ‘cause I have to work all day today, especially after I skipped out on my afternoon shift on Monday. Did you know that there’s a big festival in Dodge Junction this weekend? I didn’t either, but then Mr. and Mrs. Cake got a letter from their mayor that said their baker was sick, so they asked us to help do the catering! But it’s gonna be a loooot of work, especially because we still have to do our normal orders for Ponyville, and poor Mr. Cake is stressing out about it so much he’s worn a groove in the floor from pacing!” She stands up and squares her shoulders, adopting a serious pose. “He also said, ‘Pinkie Pie, we need all hooves on deck for the rest of the week or we won’t be able to get everything done, so we absolutely, positively cannot afford to let any employees take any more time off until after the festival’s over! Do I make myself clear?’” Pinkie giggles, relaxing and dropping her Mr. Cake impression. “Crazy, huh? The rest of this week’s gonna be nuts for sure!” Apple Bloom blinks, trying to take everything she just heard in. Sometimes Pinkie talks so fast it’s really difficult to process what she’s saying, but several things from the stream of words did end up sticking out in her mind. Out of curiosity, her eyes wander to the cuckoo clock on the wall, which only serves to confirm what she already knew. “Y-Yeah, I suppose it does sound right difficult, Pinkie Pie. But… if that’s all true, doesn’t that mean you should be at Sugarcube Corner right now? It’s after 10.” An uncomfortable silence hangs over the kitchen as the pink party pony’s eyes widen with realization. And then, like lightning, she’s gone out the back door, her exit scattering the papers, pencils and crayons all over the dining room and a faint ‘Enjoy the cobbler and cornbread…!’ lingering on the wind. Apple Bloom shakes her head and sighs, “Ah swear, sometimes it’s tough to remember she’s supposed to be a grownup…” The door clicks into place just as the swirling papers all settle, causing her to smile once again. “…But maybe I should be like Mr. Anon and count my blessings. At least she used the door, right?” “Woof!” Winona eloquently agrees. “There’ll be time to clean all this up later… I really oughta get goin’. Now where in the world is it…?” The young pony spins around a few times, searching through the papers scattered on the floor. “A-ha! Gotcha!” she exclaims, nudging a paper aside so she can pick up the sealed envelope hiding underneath. “I’ll be back before sundown like usual. Watch over the house for me, will ya, girl?” “Woof! Woof!” And with that vow, the loyal border collie sees her youngest master off, watching from the window as she starts on the day’s journey, first to the farmhouse’s mailbox, then to the main gate, and eventually around the bend and beyond her sight. She returns to the back door and curls up in the band of sunlight still filtering through, content to rest there for just a little longer before her own busy day of chasing rabbits in the fields was bound to begin. ~~~~~~~~~ “What do ya think, Mr. Anon?” The clouds outside that had obscured the sun for the last few minutes move away, allowing the warm light of early afternoon to fill the room. It highlights the materials arrayed upon the work table, allowing you to see and consider them clearly alongside the red-maned filly who stands nearby and awaits your answer. “Maybe a little bigger,” you say. “Like an inch or so on each side, but not too much. We want there to be enough of a difference to have an impact, but not so much that it causes the sail to rip apart if the wind gets too strong.” “Got it!” Apple Bloom cheers, wasting no time in repositioning the various dowel rods on the table to match your suggestion. She trots to and fro atop the table’s surface, the steady clip-clop of her small hooves upon the old wood almost in tune with the chirping of the robins perched upon the trees just beyond the room’s bay window, which itself rattles in time with the breeze. You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, listening closely to the odd but soothing harmony of sounds, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight and content to let her do most of the work. Perhaps in part because you’re lazy, but mostly because youth is for the young, and you get the feeling she’s enjoying it far more than you would. You smile and open your eyes after a few moments to see that she’s nearly done; the snap of the tape measure as she finishes double checking her work acting as the final note of the performance. “Well? How’s that?” You lean over to inspect the changes, taking the measurements yourself just to confirm… and it’s perfect. It’s really amazing how quickly she’s improved at this since the day before yesterday. “It’s great! Good work, Apple Bloom. Let’s write these measurements down and then we can get the fabric and start marking it.” “All right!” she cheers, this time careful not to disturb the precisely placed dowel rods or the finished kite in the center. Of the three kites you built together, it wasn’t your personal favorite, the traditional diamond that proved the most versatile, or even the initially promising sled. It turned out that the delta kite flew the best in the fickle spring winds yesterday, so that’s the basic design you’ve settled on for your fishing kite. The next step of the process, as you explained to your eager guest, was to determine a good size for it. A larger kite will stay aloft easier when the breeze dies down, but will quickly become difficult to control during gusts. A smaller kite does well in high winds but could fall if the wind slows. In order to find the happy medium, the two of you are building two new delta kites today, the first larger than your original, and the second smaller. Flying all three one after another should go a long way toward giving you a good idea of just how big to make the final product. You allow Apple Bloom to pick the color for the larger kite from among the many small spools of fabric scraps Rarity so generously donated to your cause. She settles on a brilliant red, and the two of you immediately get to work. Your experience in kite-making earlier in the week speeds the task, and before you know it, you’ve started on the smaller kite, this one a somewhat faded yellow per your small compatriot’s insistence. But to your surprise, it’s not only your newfound familiarity with the process that helps things along. Apple Bloom moves to and fro across the table with a newfound confidence in everything she does. Measuring, marking, cutting, taping and even sewing… gone is the timid little filly who seemed so surprised that you asked for her help the day before yesterday. The difference is so striking that you idly start to wonder what, if anything, has happened since you saw her last. Trying to stay out of her way, you let her do as she wants and only offer help or gentle corrections when asked or needed. Yet, her confidence isn’t the only reason you let her take the lead this time. As the hours roll on and the rays of afternoon sunlight move about the room, it becomes more and more apparent just how much fun she’s having, and the sight of it warms your heart. Her smile and laughter, her glances back for your approval and earnest questions… this is a glimpse into the true genuineness and innocence of childhood, and you dare not do anything to disrupt or diminish it. For a moment you start to reminisce, and your gaze wanders along with your thoughts to the red-covered journal still resting where you left it on the corner of the window sill… But a sudden bump and surprised yelp quickly pulls you back to the present. Though you didn’t directly see it happen, the combination of sounds paints a vivid picture in your mind, and you act on instinct, jumping out of your chair to catch the little pony after a misplaced step sends her tumbling backwards off the edge of the table. “Wha— Ooof!” she grunts from the safety of your arms. Your sudden collision and her more than expected weight slightly knocks the wind out of you, and you stumble back, making sure to find your footing and also keep a good hold on her. “You okay there?” She shakes her head, turning back to partially face you. “Yeah… I’m okay. Thanks, Mr. Anon.” After hearing that she really is fine, you kneel down and safely set her next to you on the floor, patting her on the head few times out of habit before you can think better of it. “That’s a relief. You gave me quite a scare.” “Believe it or not, this is the second time somepony’s had to catch me today,” she giggles. “I guess I really need to pay more attention to what I’m doin’, huh?” “Yeah… that would be nice,” you say, reclaiming your seat. “I really don’t want to have to explain to AJ how her little sister ended up being injured while she was in my care.” Apple Bloom hops into the chair next to yours, a grin on her face. “Aw, don’t you worry, Mr. Anon. I don’t think she’d blame ya. I mean, I know she can be… o… over…” “Overprotective?” “Yeah! Overprotective about a lot of things, but when it comes to nicks and scratches and bumps and bruises… none’a that is really a surprise. It kinda comes with the territory of bein’ a Cutie Mark Crusader! We try lots of stuff that it turns out we’re not really good at, so I usually come home with at least one or two by the end of the day.” “I see. Sounds like dangerous work,” you say. Apple Bloom puffs up with pride. “It sure is! But one of our mottos is that if we don’t come back with some battle scars to show for it, we haven’t been crusadin’ hard enough!” Her ears suddenly fold back and she looks around. “But… uh… don’t tell Applejack about that part, okay?” “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” you promise her with a chuckle. “I can’t really blame AJ for wanting to look out for you, though. I was always a little overprotective of my loved ones myself, and as you get older you might find out that you’re the same way. It’s one of those things that sometimes runs in the family.” “Huh…” the young pony mutters, tilting her head in contemplation. “Well… I don’t have a little sister, so I can’t rightly say how I’d act if I did.” She looks up at you once more with questioning eyes. “But I dunno, Mr. Anon, I can’t really see myself bein’ that way. D’ya really change that much when you get older?” “I suppose it depends on the person. But I think most do. And I’ll tell you, even when you eventually become an adult, it doesn’t mean you’re going to stop growing. Reaching a certain age, or a certain milestone, doesn’t magically give you all of life’s answers. You’ll keep learning, even after your school days are a distant memory…” You glance at the table, the sight of the finished kites resting there bringing a smile to your face. “And hey, don’t let anyone ever tell you that an old dog can’t learn new tricks. I didn’t know how to build a kite before this week, but I think we did a pretty good job on these, don’t you?” “I sure do!” Apple Bloom cheers, hopping out of her seat. “Hey, Mr. Anon, do you think we can fly ‘em today? It’s not too late, right?” You turn your head toward the window, just time to watch the sunlight become obscured by a dark storm front lingering in the distance. The glass rattles again as a strong gust rolls over the field, carrying with it a few droplets of rain that stain the window with a loud ping. “I don’t know. It doesn’t look like the weather’s going to cooperate with us.” “But… but… I mean, it’s not that bad out there. It’s not really rainin’ hard or anything, and there’s no thunder… and with all this wind, it’d be a great test, right? Please, Mr. Anon, I really, really wanna see how they fly!” She gazes up at you with turned back ears, quivering lips and hopeful eyes, most likely in the same practiced way that nearly always works when she’s trying to get some kind of concession out of her older siblings. It’s truly a face that you’d have to have an iron will to say no to, and you find any arguments you have against the idea suddenly hard to articulate. You grunt a little, searching for the ability to say anything at all, when the universe kindly grants you a reprieve. A series of random patterings upon the window turns into a constant stream as the deluge begins and the sudden spring storm arrives in earnest. Just like that, the look of hope fades on the little pony’s face, and the sight of it almost makes you feel as heartbroken as she must be. You stand and kneel beside her, offering a comforting head pat and an ear scratch for good measure, which she quickly responds to by leaning into your palm. “Don’t worry. There’s always tomorrow,” you tell her as you pull your hand away. She nods, her smile returning. “Yeah… that’s right.” “C’mon, I’ll walk you home. I know you didn’t bring an umbrella, but I’m pretty sure I have one big enough for the both of us.” Leaving the finished kites behind, the two of you step outside and start down the trail that’ll eventually take you to the main road and Sweet Apple Acres just beyond. You slow your stride to match that of your small companion, ensuring that the large umbrella will indeed keep you both dry and relishing the scents and sounds of the rainy forest. “Say, Mr. Anon, would you like to stay for dinner?” Apple Bloom asks as the farm’s front gate comes into view in the distance. “Pinkie Pie brought some cobbler and cornbread over this mornin’, and I’m sure it’ll be really good.” “I appreciate the offer, but… I mean, that food is meant for you. I wouldn’t want to eat it and then have you run out sometime later in the week.” “Don’t worry about that!” she exclaims. “She made a lot, and… uh, I kinda skipped lunch to come see you today, so there’s still that portion left.” “You skipped lunch?” You give her a disapproving glance. “I’m not too happy to hear that. You should’ve said so; I could’ve fixed you something while we were working.” Her ears droop and she looks away. “Sorry…” “But if there’s going to be some extra, we wouldn’t want to waste it. And you’re right, Pinkie’s a good cook, so it’s tough to turn down the opportunity to have something she’s made.” The little pony instantly perks back up. “Really? So you mean you’ll stay?” “Sure,” you say, chuckling at her enthusiasm. The two of you eventually reach the homestead’s covered porch. You fold the umbrella and set it aside as Apple Bloom opens the front door, freeing your arms just in time to catch the excited border collie that leaps into them and showers you with kisses not a moment later.