Property of West Wind

by OleGrayMane

Diary, Part Eight

 
Wednesday, 5 September

I got sick real bad. Some type of chill in the night after helping Mr. Mac. I should've taken better care of myself and gotten dried up proper, but I didn't. At first I just felt real tired, but somewhere in the night it must have gotten bad. It's hard for me to say, because I don't remember nothing.

In the morning, Doc says he tried to wake me, but he couldn't. He said I was all hot, but shaking like I was sitting on ice. The shaking was so bad even Shorty was worried, he tells me. I'm inclined to believe he was afraid he'd catch it.

Doc went and got Granny and Miss AJ, and them two spent the next couple of days taking care of me. I hate to be a burden to these folks. They got me some foul tasting medicine that I'm taking, so I'm better now. Still too weak to work. In the next few days I hope to be up to doing some work. The fresh air will chase this cough away.

Yesterday, I told Granny I didn't expect no pay for being sick and I'd pay her back for the medicine. That's the proper thing to do. She told me not to worry none and just get better.

I got worried that this would mess up my plans. Who wants to have some pony working for them that gets sick? Now I don't think it makes a difference. They cared for me not because they needed a worker, they cared for me because I was somepony.

And then there was this. When I got over the fever and the chills, I found a picture tacked up by my bunk. Miss Apple Bloom made me a get well card with a happy little pony face, hearts, flowers, and all those other things little fillies like to draw. Nopony ever gave me something like that before.

Sunday, 16 September

I've been back to work for over a week now, but I get tired fast. After I finish supper, I don't feel like nothing but going right to sleep. Cough's getting old too. I feel bad because it keeps Doc and Shorty awake at night. Doc's understanding, but Shorty, he won't let me hear the end of it. I try to cough in his direction every chance I get.

When I was sick, I read through all the books I had, so I went back to the library this afternoon. With Shorty giving me grief every chance he gets, I didn't feel like heading back to the farm. I went to the park in town, read some, and took a nap. By the time I got back to the farm I was late for supper and Granny gave me the eye.

Afterwards, Shorty started bugging me again like I knew he would. He complained about my cough, how I couldn't keep up with the work, how I was making everypony sick. What a piece of work. All I wanted to do was sleep, so I told him to shut up, as if telling Shorty to shut up would ever work. It didn't so I had to listen to him calling me a slacker who was pretending to be sick, and how much more work I make for him and Doc. Doc got him to lay off, but I didn't want to hang around the bunkhouse no more and stepped out for a while.

I don't know what he expects me to do, but he keeps pushing and pushing. He's not happy unless he's complaining about something, and he's at his happiest when he's complaining about me. When I was sick, I read back through what I'd wrote here. I said I hated Mr. Spring and couldn't figure out why he didn't like me. Maybe I don't hate him so much anymore. He still should have talked to me so we could have worked something out.

Shorty's different. I don't see a way to work anything out with him. What he does, he does out of pure spite. He mouths off about me and the Apples. He's a coward too, not say nothing to their faces. I guess he feels big when he cuts everypony else down. Only shows what he is. I don't know if I hate Mr. Spring no more, but I'm sure I hate Shorty.

He seems to know just what makes me angry, like maybe he knows about me wanting to stay, and he's trying to get me in trouble because of it. I'm sure he wants to get me in some type of trouble so I'll have to leave. I won't give him the satisfaction, no matter how he tries. I'm going to let it slide, because by the end of the season, he'll be gone, and I'll still be here.

Sunday, 23 September

Cough's almost gone, but likes to sneak up on me every now and then. I'm sure glad I feel better since we've had to work long and hard. We hardly have time to eat and sleep with all the harvesting going on. Our corn did respectable, given the weather, and most of the other crops did all right. The one thing that hasn't done well has been the apples, and they're the most important thing of all.

Mr. Mac and Miss AJ have been mighty concerned. Me too. That storm damage cut back on the crop plenty. Then we had the blasted drought back in August, and it hurt pretty bad. We're getting out what we can, but some trees never came back. The Apples are talking about taking out the ones that didn't recover and replanting in spring. I think that's a good idea.

Still, I feel a bit selfish about that. I mean, it's bad news, but it helps my case about staying. It sure will be handy to have a helper winter over and be ready for replanting next spring, won't it?

Tuesday, 16 October

Today, I sort of felt like part of the family. Right after breakfast Granny told me to hold up instead of going off with Doc and Shorty. She had a special task. Granny sent me off to one of the old orchards they don't hardly use and pick this type of fruit I'd never heard of. She showed me pictures of them in one of her books.

I took a cart from the barn, a long pole with a hook, for pulling them fruits out of the trees, and set out. It took a while to find them, but they were out there just like she said. Picking all those darn things took util noon. And they're really hard, so when they drop on your head, they hurt.

By the time I got back it was almost one, and everypony had cleared off. Granny was peeved because it took longer than she'd expected. At least she saved my lunch. I brought in a bushel of those things for her and started eating while she took out a big knife. She chopped one of them fruits in two, then in quarters. She did the same to another, and then another. That old mare sure knows some choice swear words.

She got upset because the insides were all filled with tiny, little worm holes. There weren't hardly were a single one that was good. Granny told me to forget about eating and go fetch Miss AJ. Off I ran, passing up Doc and Shorty and yelling that I didn't have time to talk. I brought Miss AJ back to Granny and when we got there, her mood hadn't gotten no better. The two of them started up a discussion on what to do about the mess. Turns out these things had to be cooked up for the bakery in town. They'd already promised delivery and didn't want to go back on their word. I'd about finished eating when Granny told me to run off and find Miss Apple Bloom.

So, off I went again. When I passed Doc and Shorty, I'd asked if they'd seen the little filly. They sent me in the right direction, but Shorty wanted to know what the hay was going on. I didn't answer him. At last, all three of the Apple mares were in the kitchen, and I could finish eating.

They got out paring knives and sat at the table, cutting out all the good pieces they could find. The two sisters cut and cleaned up the fruit, Granny inspected and put everything in a pot to boil. I got done eating and started for the door, figuring to join Doc and Shorty, when Granny snaps, “Where do you think your going?” She told me my job was to bring in bushels of fruit and take the remains to the hogs. Hogs don't seem to notice or mind worms. The four of us worked a couple of hours until it was time to start supper. So we cleaned up things and started cooking. After calling for Doc and Shorty and Mr. Mac, I ran to the bunkhouse, got washed up, grabbed my book.

After supper, Granny still had me working in the kitchen! After all, we needed to finish the job we'd started. It's late now and the work's winding down. Miss Bloom got sent off to bed a while ago.

Granny was plenty gruff today, and I was worried she was angry with me, but she acted the same with everypony else. I've seen her be the same with Miss AJ and Mr. Mac plenty of times. She wasn't mad, she was treating me the same way she treats kin. Felt a bit odd though. I liked working with the family, but sometimes it felt like it wasn't really happening.

I must be tired, that's all. One more batch, maybe two, and then we'll clean up and call it a night.

Wednesday, 17 October

I don't even know how to start. This is terrible. I'm scared everything is ruined now. I'm scared what the Apples are going to do. I'm scared of what Shorty's going to do.

We were taking out some half-dead trees this afternoon. Doc asked about what went on yesterday. Yesterday seemed so wonderful, I just couldn't stop talking about it. I forgot Shorty was there. He started accusing me of slacking off and making more work for him and Doc. I tried to ignore him. Doc told him he was full of it and he should shut his mouth and get back to work.

Shorty went on about how I'd spent the day playing with the girls, while he and Doc did real work. Doc stood up for me, saying it was honest work, because that's what Granny wanted me to do. But Shorty kept running his mouth. I told him about the work I did, and how hard the mares worked. That just got him starting in on the Apples.

He said that the mares were a “herd of fools” to work so hard on “garbage”. Doc told him to shut up, but he kept saying how stupid they were, and that I was a just as stupid to do extra work for them.

I couldn't take it no longer and rushed him. He was fast and knocked me over, but I kicked back before he could lay one on me. By sheer luck, my kick landed square on his jaw. And Shorty was out cold.

I should feel good at that, because that bastard deserves every bit of what I gave him. Instead, I'm scared. What are the Apples gonna do when they find out? What's Shorty gonna do? Doc said he'd take care of everything. I trust Doc and know he'll do his best, but what if he can't get the Apples to believe him? And how's he gonna deal with Shorty?

When I got back to the bunkhouse, I didn't know what to do. My mind was racing around, and all I wanted to do was run away. I started packing, but when I went to pack this book, I stopped. This little book's been where I've been writing about what a good place this farm is and how nice the town is. I'd written how I knew this is where I should be.

If I was right about those things, then running's wrong. I've got to trust that I was right. I trust Doc will to do me right and I've got to trust the Apples will understand it wasn't my fault. I won't leave.

But my mind can't let go of the thought that the Apples are gonna throw me outta here. I don't want to be out on the road no more. I want to stay. Stay right here. My mind's been fixed on staying so long, I don't know what to do anymore.

And what if Shorty comes after me? What if he's got a knife somewhere? How am I supposed to fight him then? I don't know what to do.

I've got to trust Doc. I've got to trust the Apples. I gotta because I've got nothing else left.