Promises
Applejack placed the diary on the kitchen table, sat down, and crossed her hooves. She slid the book a few inches closer to her grandmother.
“Would you've had him winter-over?”
“He was a decent fellow.” Granny Smith's voice held an exhaustion beyond the late hour. She sat and stared with glassy eyes, through her granddaughter's form and beyond the kitchen's far wall.
“That may be, but it don't answer my question.”
“And how do ya expect me to give an honest answer?” Granny snapped. “How's anypony supposed to give an honest answer after readin' that book of his and knowin' what happened?”
Applejack hung her head.
“Dammit!” A cup rattled in its saucer as Granny struck the table. “I should've listened to Mac and sent him on his way. He'd be alive today if I had and we'd all be better off for it!”
Applejack peered at her from beneath the brim of her hat.
The anger in Granny's face melted into a vacant stare. “But—” she continued in a voice small and lost. “But it didn't seem right. The three of them comin' together and us sending one of 'em off—it just didn't seem right. Not right.”
“How could ya have known, Granny?” Applejack said. “None of us know the future. You did what ya thought was right and proper. There ain't no blame in that. Things happen—things we can't help.”
“But I could've helped!” Granny reached across the table, grasping at something distant and intangible. “I could've sent him away on the day he came. I could've sent him away after the fightin'. Twice! I could've saved him twice, just by sendin' him away. But I didn't.”
Applejack remained silent.
“I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just couldn't.” Granny sighed and slumped back as if she'd exhausted the last of her strength. She placed her hooves on the table and pressed them together.
Applejack retrieved the book and leafed through its pages. She reached the last page with writing, closed it, and held it before her with both hooves.
“Why didn't he ask me?” Granny pleaded. “I could've told him we couldn't promise nothin'. He was on a fool's errand, Applejack. A fool's errand.”
As Applejack began to reply, anger siezed Granny again.
“Dammit! If that's what kindness buys these days, I'm through with it! What good did kindness do, eh? Is anypony better off 'cause of it? One pony's dead and another's on the run from the law. Tell me where's the good in that? Kindness ain't worth the cost!”
“Don't talk like—”
“Oh, I'm sorry, it's just…” She paused and sighed. “Ya think you're doin' the right thing, being a good pony, helpin' folks out, and then—then this.”
“Ya did the best you could, Granny.” Applejack mustered a pained smile.
“I don't know. I just don't know no more.” Granny closed her eyes and exhaled. “We didn't make much from cider this year, but, thank heavens, we're still in the black.” She opened her eyes and looked forlorn at Applejack. “We might not have been able to feed him, let alone pay him. You should know that much from workin' at the numbers yourself.”
“Yes, I do.” Applejack reached over and touched her. “I just needed to know your mind.”
Granny pulled back and looked out the window.
“Well”—Applejack placed the book between them—“what do we do with this now?”
Granny refused to turn and look at her or the book.
“He had some books borrowed from the library that'll need returnin'. I reckon you should take that with 'em tomorrow when you go into town. Give it to your friend. She'll know the right thing to do.”
—❦—
“But he was just here the other week.”
“I know.” Applejack sat by the library door watching Twilight flip through the pages of the diary hovering in front of her.
“And now he's—gone. Just like that. Gone.”
“I know.” Applejack fidgeted.
“And his friends?”
“His friends?” Applejack huffed. “Shorty ain't been seen since the day of the accident. He packed-up and high-tailed it out of there before we figured out what to do. Sheriff's mighty anxious to talk to him, let me tell you. And his other so-called friend…”
Twilight paused and looked up. “Hmm?”
“Doc didn't show up for breakfast the next day,” Applejack said. “Mac went to check on him at the bunkhouse, and he'd cleared out too. Didn't say nothin' to nopony 'bout it. Left behind his escrow to boot. And that's after all but promisin' Granny he'd be there.” Applejack shook her head. “I don't know what to make of none of that.”
Twilight resumed reading, breezing through the pages, while Applejack sat patiently watching.
“Remarkable,” Twilight exclaimed.
“What's that?”
“I find it really remarkable,” Twilight said. “He didn't have any family at all?”
“He did, just, it's—well—complicated and different,” Applejack said. “They all got regular families, ya know, but none they'll tell ya about. I mean, they leave 'em behind in most cases to escape their troubles and all.”
“Remarkable,” Twilight repeated and shook her head.
“I guess they make do with havin' friends,” Applejack continued, “like with the three of them comin' to town together and working at different places and such. But its nothin' permanent like a family.”
Twilight looked up from the book. “What about that tailor in Manehatten he mentioned?”
“Watchmaker and Fillydelphia,” Applejack corrected.
“Right—sorry. Did you contact him? Did he know anything about him or his family?”
“Sent an airmail message off to him yesterday. Cost us quite a bit, too.” Applejack removed her hat and pushed her forelock aside. “Had the mailpony wait for his reply and everything.”
“And?” Twilight closed the book and placed it on her writing desk.
“Poor old feller was really broke up by the news. Nephew was, too. It made me feel bad having 'em hear what happened that way.”
“Of course, but did they have any details about his family?”
“Nope.” Applejack pursed her lips. “Said we'd spent more time with him than he had, and that we probably knew more about him than he did. I don't reckon that's the case.”
“I don't know what to say.” Twilight laughed nervously. “I'm just so used to having a family, knowing that they're there, even when I don't see them that often. You end up taking it for granted they'll be there when you need them. Then you read about ponies like this, and—” Her mouth hung open as she searched for words. “I'm going to have to take time and read it properly,” she concluded, “maybe then I'll understand.”
“Ain't that hard to understand,” Applejack said, “it's just we're not used to it, that's all.”
“I don't see what you mean.”
“See, it's not like he didn't want family, Twi',” Applejack said. “I figure that's why he wanted to stay here instead of movin' on, so he could be part of our family—part of the Ponyville family. I mean, everypony wants to feel like they belong somewhere, some place where they're appreciated for what they do and who they are. That's just plain sense. But it comes so easy to ponies like me and you, we forget that ain't always gonna be the case.
“Fellers like them, for some reason or t'other, seem to have to work hard to find where they need to be. They ain't handed a family like we are. Instead, they gotta go out and find one to be part of or make one of their own. Some of 'em might never find one at all, and in his case, well—he found one too late.”
Twilight smiled. “You're quite a philosopher, AJ,” she said softly.
“Well, that may be,” Applejack sighed, “but philosophers still gotta work. I best be dealin' with the rest of my business in town.” She put on her well-worn hat and pushed it back. “I'll see ya tomorrow?”
“Oh, yes. Of course,” Twilight replied and paused briefly. “What time is the service?”
“Eleven o'clock,” Applejack replied. “Up on the hill—” She halted and her lips began to quiver and her voice shook as she forced herself on. “—where my parents…”
Twilight strode across the room and wrapped her forelegs around Applejack's shaking body.
“Oh, AJ.” Twilight pulled her close. “I'm so sorry.”
“It's okay.” Applejack tried to clear her throat. “I'm—I'm all right. I just wasn't ready…” She let out the faintest of gasps and then didn't make a sound.
“Now”—Twilight hugged her—“you take some of that back to Granny Smith, okay? It sounds like she could use it, too.” Twilight felt a nod.
“I will—thank you.”
Twilight clung to her for a long time, tightening her grip on each sniffle until they stopped.
“I want you to know,” Applejack whispered. “I'm glad you're part of my family.”
As Twilight released her, she placed her hooves on Applejack's shoulders and looked into her glistening green eyes. She smiled.
“And I'm glad you're part of mine.”
—❦—
Doc scrambled to the top of the embankment and collapsed, laying face down in the long, dry grass with his eyes closed. At the water's edge the frogs croaked their song for day's end. Only an hour or two remained before the trains would be coming through, and he'd have to get moving. Right now, he couldn't.
Deep breaths were hardly slowing things down. Doc opened his eyes and rolled on his side and propped himself up. The grass was slippery, and he slid a bit. He looked down at the cattails growing in the shallow creek where Shorty's body lay. All at one, a peculiar thought entered his mind. Those crawdads finally got their supper—they just needed to be patient.
Eerie laughter possessed him, ending at last in a sob. He dragged his hooves down his face. A few gasps of air let him regain his composure.
Doc picked up the folding knife sitting on his left and wiped its blade on the grass. It was far from clean, and the mechanism was obviously fouled. No time or means to deal with it, he thought, and he scowled as he hurled it upstream. The knife tumbled through the air and landed in the water with a satisfying plunk. It had never been a good knife anyway, he reasoned.
The reddening sky stood as a reminder of the hour. He'd kept his promise, and now he had to make a choice. Shorty's gear would take a ride on a southbound freight, that was already determined. The two of them had done enough talking about Las Pegasus that everypony would expect them to be heading that way. He'd leave a few bits in Shorty's pack to make it look genuine.
With the remainder of Shorty's money, and his own, he'd be set for a while. But where to go? The plans he'd made in spring were shot now, probably forever. Filly or Manehatten then? After all, he knew plenty of folks there, but if Shorty was found before spring...
Shorty would be found, and it didn't matter when. And when Shorty was found, they'd come looking for him. No doubt about that. Old acquaintances, Doc realized, were a liability. Those places were out.
He lifted himself up and dashed to the tree where he'd stashed his things. Doc sat, pressing himself close to the trunk to disguise his silhouette. As he looked towards Ponyville, he shook his head. West had been right all along: The place had been a sweet deal. Too bad he couldn't stay there.
Not there and not here. It had been years since Doc didn't know where he was headed. Then he remembered someplace nopony knew about, well, nopony alive.
A dozen years, he mused. Would they know him? Want him? Stranger things had happened in this forsaken world. He tossed on his bags, grunting as he added Shorty's to the load.
“Time to take a little trip,” he announced to the world in general. “Let's go see if they recognize old Meadowlark.”
He trotted towards the rail line as a chilly October breeze swept leaves around him. It reminding him of the coming winter. Winter reminded him of growing up in Whinnyapolis. Nopony could conceive of a rottener place to spend a winter. Ice and snow and bitter cold even on a sunny day. He'd hated that city, its cold, its endless winters, and he'd hated his family, and his wife, and eventually himself. But it had been home, and it might be again.
When he'd told Granny Smith he was heading home it had been a pleasant lie, a little something to make the old mare feel better. Then the silly old thing had to go and wish him luck. He hadn't thought much about needing that sort of luck since he hadn't been telling the truth at the time.
Meadowlark laughed. He was becoming a terrible liar.
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**POSSIBLY SPOILERS**
Well, that story got me right in the gut. To be honest, I had hoped West had somehow made it out alive in the end, even though every ounce of foreshadowing said he wouldn't. The story itself is well written, the characters memorable and relatable. The Apple family is pitch perfect, behaving exactly as I would expect them to behave. I loved seeing Ponyville from a new perspective, particularly one that is so careworn and a bit world weary. I was rooting for West the whole time, and even though he didn't make it to the end, I still felt that I invested my time and effort in the right pony.
I hope you write more stories like this in the future. This was well done, it was refreshing to read, and you should be proud of your work. Favorited, Liked, and Followed.
-.Lotus
I see to what you were referring before, about Doc. I assumed Doc was merely being what he was: a drifter, someone who couldn't stay in one place, but as you've indicated, there was a much deeper reason for his lie to Granny Smith, that being he was going to actually keep a promise; that being to go out, find Shorty, and kill him. It says a great deal about Doc's change of heart, and that even in death, or because of his death, West has influenced Doc for the better, even as his future actions may not seem as such.
Excellent story. I hope it receives more attention than it has. It deserves it.
-.Lotus
Beautiful story. Really, it's beautiful. This is going in my user page favourites.
3417855
Thank you very much, and congratulations for making it all the way to the end.
I find it interesting that you went back to the source for that song. As a Dead Head, I became familiar with it via this recording from 1966. And while we are on the subject of dates…
Since I was shooting for that depression era feel, the dates are all from 1934. I think I got all the days of the week correct.
As always thanks for reading.
3418138 Well, I guess the fact that the story made me think of this song shows you succeeded at capturing the feel of that era
As for "going back to the source", this is the only version I'm familiar with. I can't say I'm much of a fan of the Grateful Dead; I only have their first two albums in my collection, and I rarely listen to those. I am a big fan of old blues like this, however.
This has been one of the best works I have read on here.
That is all I have to say on the matter.
3711225
Thanks, I really appreciate that, but most of all, I appreciate that you read the story.
Oldster, I'm impressed. I'm not going to say much here, as I have a suspicion that I'm going to be able to take a shot at doing this story justice in a larger arena about a week from now, but just know that I loved it. Excellent format, excellent atmosphere, and excellent characterization. It isn't often I get so completely sucked into a piece as I have with this one.
3987129
Don't know what to say to all that, except thanks. To know that you read it and loved it would be enough.
I saw somepony reading the chapters in order this afternoon. That seldom happens. Mostly folks pop around for one or two at random and leave. Thanks for being one of the 21% who actually read the whole thing.
PS - How'd you run into this story?
3987329
Apart from noticing it (and all of your stories) on those occasions that I see you around, this one was recommended to me by Nietzsche/Kierkegaard.
This is a beautiful story. Seattle Angels is right when those ponies state that this story needs more love.
Dammit, I just had to read this before bed. Now I'm gonna cry myself to sleep.
I really grew quite a liking to West, which made the ending all the more sad.
4177298
Thank you very much. I'm glad you are enjoying it.
4194906 I do so for the same reason I joined Seattle's Angels and root for Spike: support for the underdog.
4195867
LOL! I have a complete understanding of your avatar now. I like Spike too, which is why I wrote his stoic and dedicated in Precious Gem and as a loyal helper to both unicorns in Circuitous Scholarship.
Let's hope he gets his due in the remainder of S4.
I really enjoyed this story. It reminded me of a lot of stories in my youth that were simple, yet rich in the lives of its characters. I really appreciate the time and effort that you have put into this story and hope that you will continue to write.
4352237
Thank you very much.
We're getting there… Two, maybe three weeks and I'll have something new. It's been a long time coming.
4352300
No need to force it.
Destined though he was to die at the end, it was still heartbreaking. I'd like to say Shorty should've gotten some comeuppance, but he'll probably get it anyway just by going through life the way he does (I typed this before reading your Author's Note). Doc's change was probably the saddest, though; he used his string of lies to support his romanticized wanderer fantasy to keep from facing the reality of being a bum, and now he doesn't have that anymore. Poor guy. Good on him, though.
Beautiful piece of work, totally worth the read!
This was a really excellent piece with great characterization for both the OCs as well as the Apple family. Seattle's Angels compared this to The Grapes of Wrath, but I'd say a more apt comparison is to Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men. Both stories are about migrant farm workers and there are quite strong parallels between Doc and George, West and Lennie, and Shorty and Curly. Plus, the central tragedy of this story is in how the forced around West (quite literally) end up crushing his optimism and his dreams.
5171648
One of my ancient memories is of attending a Cleveland Playhouse presentation of Of Mice and Men in the mid-70s. At the end, at the very moment the gun goes off, they cut all the house lights and let all these junior high students sit in stunned silence in the dark. Quite effective.
Yet I must plead Steinbeckian ignorance. My liberal arts education is inadequate and the only Steinbeck work I've read has been The Pearl. As for the two mentioned, I've never read them and can only say "I've seen the movie."
Thank you for reading.
Thank you for creating a wonderful story. This is what I was hoping Of Mice And Men would be. Where it let me down you came through.
Not to mention that I was so engaged in the story that I read it in the span of only a few hours.
What an amazing, charming story. You really have a gift of writing amazing slice of life stories. Touching, very touching.
To see West get that spark of hope and be filled with a determination to better himself, it really spoke of the good you can find in the least likely of places if you just give someone a chance.
West Wind was just downright likeable. A down-and-out pony who found something he never knew he'd been missing his whole life: family, friends, a life to call his own. His story makes me think about how it is when you adopt a senior animal from a shelter. You wish that you could've given them the perfect life right from the beginning, but even if the animal passes away far too soon for your liking, you know you gave them the best damn few months/years that they could've possibly had, and while it breaks your heart, it helps. I think if West had any sort of afterlife, he would've been sad that he died before he could really start living, but happy that he at least got a taste of what it means to be happy and have family, friends, and community.
I wonder if Shorty would've changed had he not been on the receiving end of Doc's first promise kept and the start of Doc's new life. We'll never know just how West's death would've affected him.Would Shorty have become paranoid to the point of insanity, thinking his actions were going to catch up with him every second of every day? Would the law have caught him, incarcerated him and he becomes more hardened and cold? Would he have seen the errors of his ways and try to be a good soul for the rest of his life? We'll never know those things, whether for better or worse.
Who knows what will happen to Doc. While his actions were not often pure and heck, he did take out a pony, no matter the justification behind it, it sounds like West's death was a real turning point in his life. I wish him luck on his journey to self improvement, whether the law catches up with him or not.
Overall, incredible and a joy to read!