• Published 27th Apr 2013
  • 3,310 Views, 216 Comments

The Private Scrapbook - Cadabra



Ever wonder why Granny Smith gives Filthy Rich those 100 jars of zap apple jam? Or who her husband is? Or why zebras are treated differently in Ponyville? All the answers are in Granny Smith's private scrapbook.

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Chapter 36: Cracking the Code

Chapter 36: Cracking the Code

It took over half an hour before the safe code was cracked. In that time Smithy had made a dent in the cleaning. She could not however find a way to keep the birds from coming back into the bunkhouse, much to Crab Apple’s annoyance. According to him, they had starting using him as target practice.

In spite of the previous argument, the tension had let up since they had both gotten to work in the bunkhouse. Even the continued bird droppings had become something of a lowbrow joke between the two of them.

Crab Apple rejoiced as soon as he was able to open the safe door. “Jackpot!” he exclaimed as he watched various treasures pouring out onto the dirty floor. “Now for some info. Dis is gonna help me get da edge on what they got cooked up in Baltimare.”

Smithy threw down her broom to have a look at the paperwork, particularly anything that pertained to her. She watched nervously as Crab Apple held up her old marriage certificate.

He giggled briefly when she saw the name written on it, turning a big, teasing grin at Smithy. “Granny Smith?” he asked as Smithy snatched away the contract. “Guess it’s better then Mrs. Rich, ain’t it.”

Smithy hadn’t been called by her biological name in years, and even at her age she still didn’t care for it. “Most folks just call me Smithy,” she said with an aggravated blush.

Crab Apple shrugged his shoulders as he continued to dig through the safe’s contents. “Suit yourself,” he said as he held up a map. “I guess I’ll have ta get used ta callin’ you Smiddy, unless you like bein’ called Mrs. Rich.”

Smithy rolled her eyes at the small talk. “It’s pronounced ‘Smithy’,” she said, commenting on Crab Apple’s Baltimare accent.

Crab Apple stopped rooting around in the safe for a moment, looking up at Smithy with a bit of confusion. “Uh, dat’s what I said,” he replied before finding a broken necklace. “Say, look at dis. Looks like zebra weavin’ patterns, and dis rock! Woah!”

Smithy’s heart raced the moment her eyes fell upon that all too familiar onyx. “Gimme it,” she demanded, reaching out for the precious trinket.

Crab Apple held it away, intimidated by the hungry look in Smithy’s eye. “Stop bein’ grabby!” he exclaimed. “What’s wrong with you? Why’s it in here if you want it so bad?”

Smithy punched Crab Apple in the mouth, which let his guard down long enough for her to grab the necklace. She then rushed to a corner of the room where she could be alone with her long lost trinket.

It had been years since the last time she had held that necklace. The familiar smooth touch of the onyx was like touching a past that had since hardened over. She held it close to her neck, knowing that it would never stay in place because the cord had been broken. She remembered the day that it was broken and taken from her, a day that she had made a very bad decision. A big tear ran down her face as she thought about the day Bladire had given it to her as a farewell present in Canterlot, and how long it had been since she had seen him.

The room had fallen silent, save for the soft scuttling of birds in the rafters. Crab Apple was hesitant to say anything until he thought he heard what sounded like crying. “You alright there, Smiddy?” he asked cautiously.

He slowly approached the green pony and placed what he thought was a comforting hoof on her shoulder. Smithy immediately shook it off as if it was a threat. “Leave me alone,” she mumbled as she held protectively onto the necklace.

Something was clearly wrong, and Crab Apple was determined to get to the bottom of it. “I’d do dat, but somethin’s buggin’ you,” he persisted. “Da minute you saw dat necklace you went crazy on me. You don’t go givin’ somepony a fat lip like dis if it weren’t somethin’.”

Smithy shook her head wildly, tears pouring over more prevalently. “It’s none a yer dang business!” she shouted as she pushed Crab Apple into a large pile of garbage before running out the front door with the necklace gripped in her teeth.

Crab Apple struggled with the pile of trash as he got himself upright. “Hey!” he shouted out the front door. “Where you goin’! I don’t know my way back! Hey!”

Smithy could hear Crab Apple calling for her, but she did not care to turn around to explain herself. Running away just felt too good for her to even care anymore.

She gained speed as she ran though the Everfree Forest, easily dodging obstacles she knew would slow her pesky pursuer. As far as she was concerned, it was none of his business why she felt the way that she felt or what significance the necklace had. All Crab Apple had ever done for her was kill Stinking Rich, and the only reason he did it was to blackmail her into using her property for his own gains. She didn’t feel that she owed him any explanations. She was keeping her end of the bargain, so he may as well keep his.

The run through the forest reminded Smithy of how out of shape she had gotten over the years. On top of the pounds she had gained from being married, she had put on a few more since the death of her husband. It didn’t help that she’d lived a rather sedimentary lifestyle after she became a mother. She breathed heavily as she slowed her pace, glad that there was a good distance between herself and Crab Apple.

Glad to have finally reached her destination, Smithy lay down and rested underneath a familiar shady tree. She began to catch her breath while sweat poured from her forehead. The spot was peaceful and quiet, a nice spot for one to be buried at.

She looked down lovingly at the memorial stick that showed where Bladire was laid to rest. “It’s been a while,” she said sadly as she lay down next to the stick, breathing in the scent of the grass that had grown over where Bladire’s body lay. “I've been meanin’ to come see ya since I got back from Baltimare. I had to save Kizzy from bein’ sold off, so I hired somepony to kill Stinkin’ Rich fer us. I sure feel guilty fer doin’ that, but he killed y’all so we’re even, right?”

Smithy listened to the sounds of nature all around her, hoping that the sounds would give her a justified answer for what she had done. The birds, the babbling stream, the wind through the trees, everything reminded her of how much she missed Bladire. And if she listened close enough, she could just make out the sound of Crab Apple’s complaining in the distance. “Hear that?” she said to the memorial stick. “That’s the pony I hired to kill Stinkin’ Rich. I met him in Blatimare. He’s a real pain in the flank, but he treats the zebras good. Who knows, ya might’ve liked him.”

She sighed as she listened to the distant Crab Apple fall and land in something that clearly aggravated him. “We ain’t involved romantically, in case yer wonderin’,” she said to the memorial stick. “Nopony could take yer place, Bladire. I wish ya were still here.”

Smithy began to tune out Crab Apple’s distant complaining. Clearly he was lost, which suited her just fine. All she wanted right now was to be left alone to spend time at the grave of her long gone lover, and the last thing she wanted right now was to be found. She daydreamed about being buried next to Bladire, sharing the earth like they once shared their love. It would be quite the relief from the recent events. If only she could just get the nerve up to do herself in...

Hours wiled away as Smithy sat in a nostalgic haze, daydreaming about the life she wished she could have shared with Bladire. She hadn’t noticed that the sun had gone down, or that Crab Apple had finally found her after several hours of searching. “Where da hay have you been, lady!” he hollered as he grabbed her shoulders in an attempt to get her attention. “I’ve been lookin’ for you for hours! What’s got inta you!”

Smithy backed away solemnly, trying to keep her temper even. She’d enjoyed her peaceful time at Bladire’s grave too much to let Crap Apple’s temper get the better of her. “Yer a mess,” she replied softly, noticing that the orange pony was covered in mud and had leaves stuck in his red mane.

Crab Apple noticed how placidly she was acting, which was quite the shift in tone from the crazy routine he’d seen at the bunkhouse. “Somepony you know?” he asked more calmly, noticing the necklace he’d found in the safe wrapped around the memorial stick.

Smithy nodded as she lay back down next to the stick. “Eeyup,” she said softly as she wrapped a grieved hoof around the stick.

Clearly the display of affection meant that this was somepony special, and Crab Apple had a feeling the necklace had something to do with it. “Did dat necklace belong ta an old gal pal or somethin’?” he asked as he took a seat next to the grave, hoping to guess what it was that had gotten Smithy so upset.

Smithy shook her head, not even looking at him as she said ‘nope.’

Crap Apple reached out for the necklace to get a better look at it, only to have his hoof swatted away. “Geeze, sorry,” he said, rubbing his hoof where it had been hit. “I wasn’t tryin’ ta steal it. You didn’t steal it off somepony yourself, did you?”

Smithy looked up at Crab Apple, appalled by what he just said. “How dare ya!” she said, beginning to tear up. “That there necklace was a gift. He gave it to me because I reminded him of his sister, and she got stolen from him!”

While Crab Apple was glad to have made some leeway, he tensed up at the sound of timberwolves howling in the distance. “Ah, Smiddy?” he said, looking around for where the sound was coming from. “Think we can pick up on dis conversation someplace safer?”

Noticing a pair of eyes glowing in the distance, Crab Apple began to poke Smithy to get her to move. “We ain’t alone, lady!” he hollered, poking more furiously.

Smithy dismissed the poking, still too deeply in her mopey mood. “Whatever,” she sighed as she pawed at the necklace wrapped around the base of the memorial stick. "Let 'em at me. I don't care."

The glowing eyes were advancing upon them, and their numbers had multiplied. Crab Apple noticed that they were approaching from more that one side of them. “It’s an ambush!” he declared as he shook Smithy furiously. “We gotta get outta here or we’re toast! Quit mopin’ and start runnin’!”

Annoyed by having been shook so hard, Smithy reached up to push Crab Apple away. As soon as she did, she saw how many sets of eyes were staring at them. The timberwolves were so close that she could smell their sulfuric breath. One of them was looking her dead in the eye, ready to pounce on her. Acting on instinct, she covered her face and screamed in terror as it leapt through the air to attack her.

Rather than feeling the pain that her body had braced itself for, Smithy felt a few sticks gently landing on her. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Crab Apple had knocked it off its trajectory course, and that the timberwolf had broken to pieces. The timberwolves had swarmed on him, and he was bucking them away for dear life. “Run, lady!” he hollered as he shattered another one.

Instead of running, Smithy began to frantically try unwrapping the precious onyx necklace that had been absent from her life for so long. For some odd reason, she could not get it untangled. Crab Apple was hollering at the top of his lungs for her to run, but she just couldn’t leave it behind.

As she worked to untangle her trinket, a defeated timberwolf had rebuilt itself silently beside her without her even noticing it. It began to salivate as it growled a foul smelling growl. Smithy turned around just in time to see its face just inches from hers. She squeezed her eyes shut in fear as it open its jaws, only to feel Crab Apple wrapping his arms around her to protect her. Crab Apple was thrown off of her by the strong jaws of the timberwolf, who was eagerly gnawing on his arm.

Crab Apple screamed out in pain as the other timberwolves advanced upon him, fearing that this was going to be the end. The last thing he was expecting was to see them falling down around him. He watched as Smithy bucked wolf after wolf to pieces before taking out the one who had its teeth lodged in his arm.

While he was relieved to have been rescued, Crab Apple began to panic as he watched the wolf sticks levitate in a green magical light. “Let’s get outta here!” he screamed as he tried to get on his feet. He fell down in a heap of pain due to the injury on his arm, screaming and cursing as he hit the ground.

Knowing that the only way they were going to survive was to work together, Smithy stood beside Crab Apple and allowed him to throw the injured limb over her shoulder. It wasn’t what she wanted, but knew she couldn't bare to be responsible for the death of somepony else again. The guilt was too much to bear, but if she was going to avoid another death, then she would just have to hold off on her own.

Smithy took one last look at Bladire's memorial stick, feeling guilty for leaving his most precious gift to the mercy of the timberwolves. “Run with me,” she commanded as she and Crab Apple took off together.

With Crab Apple being much taller and Smithy being much fatter, the leaning run was not an easy plan to pull off. They knew their time was limited due to the timberwolves ability to quickly rebuild themselves, which only made the run that much more stressful. Thankfully, the bunkhouse was not all that far off, and Smithy knew the way back.

By the time the timberwolves were pursuing them again, the two ponies had reached clear land near the bunkhouse. They hobbled as quickly as they could toward the bunkhouse, listening to the terrifying howls of their hungry hunters not far behind them.

Smithy threw Crab Apple off her shoulder the moment they opened the bunkhouse door. She slammed it shut and locked it, breathing harder than she had in all her life. She jumped when she heard a timberwolf slam against the door at full force. After that she heard them sniffing and scratching around the doors and windows for a weak spot that they could use to enter.

Turning her attention to the hurt pony moaning out in pain on the floor, she asked him, “Ya hurt?”

Crab Apple screamed as he held out his bleeding limb. “YEAH, I’M HURT!” he hollered, his face screwed up in an expression of pure agony. “I got bit by a dang timberwolf! Dis ain’t acupuncture!”

Smithy rummaged around for the first aid kit under the sink, only to see that there was a hole the size of a dinner plate in the wall that lead to the outside of the bunkhouse. She saw a snarling timberwolf make eye contact with her through that hole. “I gotta scare ‘em off,” she said as she slammed the sink cabinet shut. “With how run down this here place is, they’re gonna find a way in! I gotta make some noise to scare ‘em off or they’ll get us.”

Crab Apple crouched over his bleeding arm when he saw a drooling timberwolf leering at him through the window. “How you gonna do dat?” he asked meekly, panicking as he watched the timberwolf rooting around for a weak spot on the window frame.

Smithy looked around for anything made of metal, remembering how banging pots helped scare timberwolves away from the farm around zap apple season. “I’m gonna need some rope,” she instructed. “We’re gonna tie a bunch of metal to me and I’m gonna run out there and make enough noise to scare ‘em off. If ya can’t find rope, I need ya to use anythin’ ya can find to help tie stuff on me.”

While Crab Apple could have argued with the crazy idea, the sight of the timberwolf trying to shake the weak window frame open put an end to that. He began to rip strips from a blanket with his good arm and his teeth, trying to ignore the putrid taste it left in his mouth.

Smithy rushed around the bunkhouse looking for anything that would make noise, ignoring the invasive noises from outside. It didn’t take long to gather a few dirty pots, several spoons, a mold covered cheese grater, fire place pokers, an iron, and several cider mugs.

Crab Apple quickly helped tie the metal menagerie onto Smithy with the blanket strips. “Good luck,” he said as she approached the door.

With a loud holler, Smithy took off into the night, clanging as loudly as she ran. Crab Apple could hear her running around the bunkhouse, and watched with relief as the timberwolf who had tried to get in through the window ran away. The sounds were scaring the timberwolves back into the Everfree Forest where they belonged.

Getting up the nerve to take a look, Crab Apple opened the door to see Smithy bucking at a few stubborn timberwolves who were not ready to leave yet. Those stubborn timberwolves ran off after regenerating, deciding it best not to try their luck again.

With the timberwolves defeated, Smithy walked back up to the bunkhouse. “I… got ‘em…” she breathed heavily, not used to so much physical exertion in one day. “I’m… gonna be… sore… in the mornin’.”

While grateful for the win over the timberwolves, Crab Apple knew that he had to bandage up his bleeding arm. “Can you get da first aid kit now?” he begged. “I’m losin’ a lotta blood here.”

Smithy poured peroxide over the open wounds, watching Crab Apple wince as the sores bubbled white with what would have been a nasty infection. “I’m sorry ‘bout all this,” she apologized as she wrapped a clean bandage over the wound, glad to know that the contents of the first aid kit had remained clean. “Ya saved mah life out there, and now yer all bit up over it. Can ya ever fergive me?”

Crab Apple eyed the mare bandaging his wounds, not sure what to think of her. “Dat depends,” he said with an unhappy sneer. “You owe me an explanation for all dis. Tell me what’s buggin’ you and I’ll decide for myself if you deserve forgiveness.”

Smithy stared wide eyed in fear at the propositioning pony. “I can’t,” she said, her cheeks burning red hot with embarrassment. “It’s too indecent. Ya’d judge me badly. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

Crab Apple could see embarrassed tears forming around Smithy’s eyes. The sheer look of her reminded him of a child who’d been caught doing something wrong. “Lady, I’m a king pin,” he explained. “I’ve seen all kinda indecent stuff. I’m sure anythin’ you did don’t compare ta anythin’ I seen.”

Smithy looked up at him with wet eyes, not sure if she could trust him. “I don’t know if y’ll blabber what ya hear,” she explained. “Ya broke into a safe fer heavens sake! How do I know mah secrets are safe with ya?”

It was a valid question, and one Crab Apple wished he had a good answer for. “I guess we’ll have ta do it for da sake a peace between us,” he said. “Scouts honor, nothin’ leaves dis bunkhouse, includin’ anything I say ta you. Deal?”

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