Sweet Apple Acres: For Sale by Owner

by Velvet_Divan

In a Bind

Chapter Three

I left the breakfast table the next morning, mane still damp from the bath I'd skipped the night before. "Ah'll be in the west orchard again t'day if anyone needs me. Ah'm tryin' to clear it as fast as Ah can, but—"

Mac shook his head, drawing my eye. "Nope. Today's market day, AJ. I'll help load you up, but you've gotta be there t'day."

I wanted to buck something. We needed the bits our stall at the market brought in, but the work I was trying to do was going to bring in more profits long-term. There was nothing for it though.

"Guess Ah plumb forgot what day it was." I glanced at AB, the filly rushing to gobble her breakfast and situate her bow at the same time. "Oh, thankee kindly for that drawin' Apple Bloom! Ah love it. Ah just wish we could show it to the diamond dogs too." I winked at my little sister, then had a horrible thought. "Do not take that literal, y'hear? Ah don't ever want to go down a dog hole again."

Apple Bloom managed only three-quarters of an indignant glare, showing I'd been wise to get right in there with a disclaimer.

Mac and I trotted outside and loaded up the wagon with bushels of apples and a few baskets of baked goods Granny had prepared the night before.

I hitched myself up, and almost ran into Mac when he blocked my way towards the gate. “Whoa! Uh, somethin' wrong Mac?”

"Applejack. I know something's eatin' you. I know you're keepin' quiet about it. If you have a good reason...alright. But if you don't," Mac's deep voice was mild as usual, but his eyes said it all. He was serious, and wasn't falling for my brave act.

"Won't have you takin' the weight of the world on your back." His lips curved into a small, wry smile. "You've got me here to take half of it."

I swallowed, mouth gone dry. After a moment, I shook my head just twice, side to side. "Soon, Mac. Ah'll tell you soon. Was gonna have to anyways, eventually. See you tonight."

Mac nodded, and stepped aside. I could feel his eyes on me as I pulled the wagon out of the farm and on towards town. It would be good to unburden myself, wouldn't it? Then why did it feel like I'd be facing an executioner tonight?

---

Setting up the stall was mostly old hat after so many years, so I paid more attention to the market than what my hooves were doing. There weren't many ponies about yet, but that was typical for early morning. The rush to work would begin soon, and I'd make some sales then. There were always ponies who slept too late and didn't leave themselves time to make breakfast, or even time to buy and eat a proper one, so an apple on the go was a tasty-looking alternative.

I was setting out Granny Smith's pies on a rough wooden shelf when I noticed three of the other market icons heading my way. Carrot Top, Roma, and Earth Turner lined up before my cart, scowling. Although Roma's personality was more crabapple than ripe tomato, and Earth Turner was as taciturn as could be, we had working the soil in common and had never been on poor terms.

"Well, uh, good mornin' folks. What's the word?" I smiled as brightly as I could, but neither words nor expression budged the frowns on the other vendors' faces.

"Applejack." Carrot Top nodded. "We've got a problem. Earth Turner here was just over at town hall trying to find the right form to get approval to dig a new well—"

"It's blue." The wiry stallion weighted the words with so much disgust, I'd have had to swap in 'changeling vomit' to get the same tone from your average pony.

"—yes, anyways, Red Tape gave him a fact sheet about a new tax that was just approved in Canterlot."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, ponyfeathers. What's this one for? How many wagon wheels y'got on yer property?"

Carrot Top snorted, and stomped a hoof with such violence that I backed up a step. That wasn't like her at all. An ugly feeling crept up my spine as I realized this couldn't be typical paper-pusher abuse.

"They're taxing our acreage! Specifically targeting farmers, and it's tiered instead of a straight calculation. I'm just over the second tier myself. So is Earth Turner."

Earth nodded once, a sharp jerk of his head. Roma just rolled her eyes, and stabbed a hoof in the general direction of the capital. "I bet they had some pencil-pusher wise out those tiers to slam the typical farmer hardest. They don't really make sense, otherwise!"

My head felt light, and the market suddenly seemed too bright. I stretched a hoof towards Earth Turner. "D'you have that fact sheet on you by chance, Earth?"

He nipped it out of his saddlebags and passed it over. My eyes slid back and forth across the page, stumbling over codes and references that meant nothing to me, until I reached, buried in muddying language, the parts that mattered. 'Any commercial agricultural property numbering more than twenty-four acres will pay tier two taxes in the following fiscal year. Any property numbering more than forty-four acres will pay tier three taxes. Any property numbering more than sixty-four acres will pay tier four taxes.'

My stomach lurched. Sweet Apple Acres was sixty-five acres. 'See pricing table to determine taxes owed for your property.' I wanted to throw the paper away and forget it ever existed. I read on, and my stomach convulsed.

I thrust the page back at Earth Turner and whipped around, bracing a foreshoulder on the cart, fighting desperately to keep breakfast from reappearing. My knees wobbled, threatening to give out and dump me into the dirt.

"It's horseapples, isn't it? We have half a mind to picket outside town hall tomorrow... Um, are you okay? Applejack?" Carrot Top walked up beside me, stretching a foreleg across my shoulders.

"F-fine, Ah'm fine. Just tired Ah guess." I gently shrugged out from beneath Carrot's leg, and swallowed, tasting bile. "Any of you need some apples while you're here? Looks like Ah'm gonna need every bit I can get."

Roma and Earth Turner both shrugged and made indifferent noises. They tended to wait for the day's-end leavings I might let go for a discount.

Carrot Top gave me a sideways glance, then nodded towards a plate of apple tarts. "Hook me up with a couple of those, Freckles. You let me know if there's anything I can do for you today." She scrutinized me while I wrapped up her tarts. I had to concentrate more on keeping my hooves from shaking than on the wrapping job.

When she passed me the bits for the treats, she jerked her head back at the other vendors. "If we set up that picket, I'll come let you know when it will go down. We're not going to go quietly, sister!" Carrot Top raised a leg for a hoofbump, and I obliged her, before the three wandered back to their stalls.

By now the morning commuters were trickling through and I really had to get my sales-face on. My stomach twisted inside me, and there were two more close calls while I served customers. As soon as the rush died down and sleepy Ponyville morning activity set in, I dug out a rarely-used 'back soon' sign and hung it from the cart.

I trotted over to Carrot Top's cart to see her using the lull to rearrange her produce. It was gorgeous, as always; the mare was as talented with carrots and other vegetables as my family was with apples. She glanced up at my approach and grinned.

"Come to return my bits and buy some veg, Freckles?" She plucked a smaller carrot from the display and took a big bite, the crisp crunch practically echoing down the street.

The scent of carrot made my gorge rise again, and I shook my head, ponytail swishing. "Actually Carrot, would ya mind keepin' an eye on mah cart for a bit? Ah need to nip over to the library and see Twilight real quick."

Carrot Top nodded, and waved me off with the stump of her carrot. "Go, go. Sooner you get back, the sooner you can get back to pushing those dangerously addictive apples on us unsuspecting townsfolk."

I scraped up a smile from somewhere and attempted a wink, but it came across as more of a wince, judging from Carrot's expression. I galloped off to the library, nose burning and tears threatening to brim over. I needed help. I needed a friend right now, and who better than the pony who helped teach me it was no failing to accept help when things got too overwhelming?

---

Spike answered the door, but stood squarely in my way, gazing up at me without quite meeting my eyes and shifting from one foot to the other. "Hey Applejack. Uh, this isn't the best time for a visit."

Twilight's voice carried from inside the library. "Spike, shut the door! If it gets out, we might never find it, and who knows how many ponies it might ch—oh, hi AJ." The purple alicorn descended into view on the staircase inside, and waved me in. "Please, come in and shut the door. We've kinda got a bit of a situation brewing here."

Spike finally stepped aside and I slipped in, nudging the door shut with a hindleg. The little dragon picked up a dowsing rod from the floor and began waddling around the treehouse with it, frowning.

"Uh." I suffered a blip of curiosity, but freaky things happened all the time in town, and probably more often in the library whenever Twilight decided to actually do something with a tidbit she'd read. My situation quickly trumped any desire I had to know what was going on. "Twi, d'you have a minute to talk?" I had to fight to keep from busting out crying right there. I couldn't keep a quaver out of my voice. "Ah could really use—"

"Actually, could it wait, AJ? There's a really pesky river spirit—well, maybe stream-spirit, it is pretty small—and if I don't lock it down it could cause irreparable damage to the books! Also, it might drown anypony it encounters by forcing itself down into their lungs. That would be bad too." She grinned at me, strain showing around her eyes, a couple hairs in her mane visibly fraying as she spoke.

I dug at the area rug with one hoof, feeling the burning in my nose and sinuses build. "N-normally I'd say it could wait, sure Twi, but things are bad. Ah, Ah don't know if Ah can—"

"Behind you!" Twi squealed, and before I could even turn my head to see the threat, the world exploded in pink light. I blinked the afterimage away to find myself outside the library again, listening to a watery roar of rage inside. Half-stunned, I just stood there in the street, listening to the short-lived battle that followed.

About two minutes later, a panting and exhausted Spike opened the door again, waving me in. A new bottle sat atop the checkout desk near the door, and within, a very angry pair of eyes floated, tracking me. Twilight stood with her back to me, pulling books off a particular pair of shelves. She was putting out heat like a radiator, drying soaked books, holding each page open with her telekinesis. Several more hairs in her mane and tail had frayed, and she whipped her head around at the other sections, mumbling about triage.

After a minute, I saw the writing on the wall. "Ah guess Ah'll come back later." I felt myself slide off a lip into a swamp of self-pity, and hated myself for it, knowing how hard it would be to pull myself free again. I must have let my mask slip, because Spike winced at my face when I turned to go.

"AJ, what's wrong? I mean, Twilight's going to be like this for a few hours, but if you want to hang around until then, I'll make you a sandwich. You can look at my new comic book if you want! They started publishing a Daring Do one!" He grinned, tangling his claws together.

I turned my head back towards the door so he wouldn't see the new tears forming. "Ah need to get back to my cart, but Ah'll see you two soon, Ah'm sure. Thankee Spike." I rushed back out onto the street, and the cold hit my wet eyes.

The moment had passed. I had tried to get some help and my friend had barely looked at me. Part of me knew it wasn't fair to judge Twilight over this, and it was silly not to try again, but a little resentment bolstered old habits. I would handle this. It was Apple family business, and there was no reason to involve my friends in it.

It took nearly the whole walk back to the cart to get my mask back into place. I had to re-convince myself of its importance. I had to remember how the old Applejack's face relaxed into a smile; it wasn't something that could ever look forced. I had found that I even had to maintain a shell of 'normal' surface thoughts circulating to keep myself distracted, dwelling on the immediate business of selling apples and treats rather than the towering problems stalking me.

By the time I removed the sign, tipped my hat to Carrot Top, and took my place behind the cart again, nopony wandering by saw anything but amiable Applejack cheerfully hawking her wares. The morning collapsed into noon, and the lunch rush hit me. The last of the baked goods went in a flurry, leaving me with nothing but apples to sell. As soon as the rush truly subsided, I hung the sign again and trotted towards town hall.

A white unicorn separated from a group leaving a restaurant to my left, and waved. As I drew a little closer I spotted the familiar diamonds on her flank, but the stylish scarf she wore would have been clue enough it was Rarity. "Applejack! Off to get a bite to eat? I just had the most scrumptious salad myself."

I shook my head, and nodded up the road at the town's tallest structure. "Actually Ah'm on mah way to town hall."

"Get out! That's my next stop this afternoon." Rarity settled the pretty gray and pink scarf into place around her neck and shoulders, then joined me trotting down the street.

"Did the, uh, tailorin' or dress-makin' business get hit with a new tax?" I bit off the word 'too' just in time. I was curious what Rarity could want at Ponyville's bureaucratic heart, despite everything on my mind.

"Tax? No, not that I'd heard of. I'm dropping by to apply for a grant," she gave her mane a toss, "to help me expand the Carousel Boutique. My business has focused a lot of attention on the town, don't you think? Attracted tourists, journalists?" She stopped outside the doors of the big building, rounding on me with the slightest of pouts.

"Well sure. They've done at least three or four articles about you across, what, the Canterlot Times and some of your fashion magazines? While ponies may have come to see you, Ah'm sure they spent money here in town on other things..." I paused to imagine what it would be like to have Sweet Apple Acres featured in an article. An image of Mac appeared in my head to mumble 'More trouble than it's worth,' and part of me agreed, but with fame came money often enough.

"Ah-hah! If you see it then surely they'll see that! Helping me enhance my business will help the town as a whole!" Rarity tugged open the doors and flounced inside, leaving me to trudge in behind her. With a sudden flash of irritation, I found myself intensely jealous of the fashionista.

When she had put on that fashion show showcasing the ridiculous dresses she graciously made for us, it seemed her reputation was shot, but she flipped it around and turned that disaster into a coup. When the rest of us acted the fool at that fancy party in front of all those Canterlot hoof-lickers, she still managed to impress the head-honcho stallion there and profit. She even turned getting kidnapped by cave-dwelling canines into a success, taking their stockpiles of gems in compensation! Everything went right for Rarity, so of course she'd get this grant too.

"Ta, Applejack! Don't let them give you any paper cuts." Rarity waved, already having found a flunky to escort her, probably straight to the mayor.

I approached the nearest desk, and had to fight to keep my smile from curling into a scowl. Red Tape continued to staple small stacks of papers until I cleared my throat.

"Mister Tape. Ah'm here to lodge a formal protest against the new tax on agricultural acreage." I used a polite and formal tone, and managed not to grit my teeth at all, but based on my past dealings with this pale yellow stallion I wouldn't be civil for long.

"Which tax would that be? Do you know its numerical designation?" While stereotypes for bureaucrats like him included ponies with pinched, nasal voices and ones that spoke in a monotone, Red Tape's was simply disinterested. I found that far worse than the other possibilities. Did he not care? Was it me and my problems he didn't care about, his job in general, or did he treat everything in the world like an insignificant interruption?

"No, Ah'm afraid Ah don't.” Everything about Red Tape, and even the inside of town hall just got under my skin. The smell of fresh ink bordered on overpowering. Either somepony had turned the heat up too high or the furnace was busted, but either way it was easily ten degrees too hot there in the lobby.

Red Tape's flat, completely expressionless gaze always came off as condescending to me, but I fought to ignore it and press on. “Earth Turner had a fact sheet he was given while he was here earlier, and Ah—"

"Oh, yes. Here," Red Tape hoofed over an identical sheet. "The designation is there at the top. It's the long number with two dashes in it. I wrote these fact sheets myself for the benefit of Ponyville's citizens when I heard about the decision in the Royal Court." He actually gained a tiny degree of animation when discussing his self-appointed work. "Official notifications about the change won't go out for weeks, perhaps months."

Inwardly, I seethed. It was just like Red Tape to pounce on an opportunity to be the bearer of bad news. "How...proactive of you. Now, is there a form to fill out for formal protests or—"

"You wouldn't file a protest here, miss. You would file it at the appropriate office in Canterlot," Red Tape interrupted, starting to staple papers again. "If there's nothing else?"

"Mister Tape, this being the local branch of the Equestrian government, Ah believe it's only appropriate for you to take my complaint here and forward it if need be." I leaned across the desk just slightly. "And Ah trust it will not get lost on the way, because of how poorly that would tend ta reflect on the functionary Ah dealt with."

The stapler crunched one last time, with finality, and Red Tape raised his head. "Are you threatening me, Miss Applejack?"

I raised my voice enough to let the ponies working at the two adjacent desks hear me. "Why would Ah do such a thing? Why would Ah need to? Isn't everypony here a public servant, dedicated to helping citizens jest like me interact with the ponies who govern us?"

A canary yellow form slid into place before me. "Fill this out. Provide bits for postage to Canterlot. A response wait-time of six to eight weeks is not unusual."

It was hard to tell, but I think Red Tape was furious. His voice was no more interested than before, but as he resumed collating, the ker-chunk of each stapling seemed louder. I took the provided pen in my mouth and filled in the appropriate blanks before reaching the spot for the actual complaint.

I tried to concentrate, to conjure up eloquent phrases that would convince a statespony or a princess, but the constant noise of the stapler and even the subdued conversations of the customers and bureaucrats near me were enough to make it impossible to focus. What ended up on the paper was short, blunt, and pathetic. It was the desperate plea of a mare on the brink of losing her family farm, and nothing more. I hated it. I hated myself for writing it, and I hated Red Tape for reading it when I passed it over.

"Four bits postage." He held out a hoof, and when I passed him the bits, he made a show of glancing at them, as if making sure they were genuine. "Will that be all?"

"Yes." I couldn't stop my lip from quivering, and a fresh wave of self-loathing lapped over me.

"Have a nice day, ma'am."

---

As I walked down the road home, pulling the cart, I actually wished there were rainclouds over Sweet Apple Acres, so the weather would match my mood. Instead the sky was only sparsely ribboned with clouds, and a spectacular sunset was in the offing to the west.

"The west," I muttered, thinking of the orchard with its still-uncut trees. I would have to take another poke at it tomorrow. Tonight though, I had to tackle the talk with Mac. Thinking about it made me feel hollow inside.

Passing through the gates, I pulled the cart the last few yards to its shed and backed it in before wriggling free of the harness. In the past I couldn't walk through an inch of the farm without recalling a happy memory or a proud moment, but nothing called out to me today. The pump was just a pump. The farmhouse was just a building, wood and nails and paint. If I tried hard enough I could remember things, but nothing resonated emotionally anymore.

Not even the horseshoe-pit, where I'd wiled away hours with friends and family pitching shoes, stirred up anything. The thought of wandering over and getting some practice in just left me feeling exhausted.

Winona bounded over and leaped for my chin, forcing me to stretch out a hoof and wave her down. "Down, down girl!"
She settled for running circles around me while I crossed the yard towards the farmhouse, trying to tempt me into a game or a run through the orchards. I grimaced at the heart-wrenching tilt of her head, confusion as plain on her face as on any pony's, when I shut the farmhouse door between us.

I could hear Mac's unmistakable hoof falls upstairs, my big brother probably washing up. Granny was cooking and Apple Bloom was helping, the two of them singing some silly song that rang through the kitchen. I ducked my head in long enough for them to see me.

"You two need any help?"

"No, supper's two shakes of a lamb's tail from bein' forkable. You can set the table though, young'n." Granny saluted me with a spatula, and though it felt like I had to move through cement to do so, I returned the salute.

The dining room was a little quieter, and I thought about how I'd present things to Mac that night. 'Mac, the farm is failing and I don't know what to do.' No. 'Mac, we're in a heap of trouble, but nothing we can't get out of with a lot of hard work.' Better. But...was it true?

Before I could pursue that distressing line of thought further, the family filed in, carrying piping hot dishes. I survived another meal, eating little, saying nothing of consequence, and keeping up my mask. Mac and I stayed behind to clean up while Granny took Apple Bloom upstairs to read her a story.

"Let me grab the books," I told Mac when he settled back at the table, and got a nod in response. I stole upstairs as quietly as the creaking stairs allowed, and scooped up the ledgers and notebooks from the desk in my bedroom. I could hear Granny howling like a timberwolf, making Apple Bloom squeal and giggle across the hall. I knew exactly what story she was telling, and wished I was the one being put to bed, no worries ahead of me but homework, cutie marks and schoolyard rivalries.

Downstairs I spread out the ledgers, then wordlessly passed Mac the sheet of paper Red Tape had given me earlier that day. Knowing the awful figure by heart already, I set to plugging the number into the budget. I heard Mac grunt like the wind had been knocked out of him and grimaced without looking up. The pencil dropped from my lips after I'd finished figuring.

"Ah'm—Ah don't... Ah can't see any way out of this. Really, the tax was like an arrow through the heart after we'd already fallen off a cliff." I waved a hoof at the budget. "With the overhead goin' up on supplies, Apple Bloom's little accidents, and the new tax, we'll be losing bits every year even if our sales increase. That's if Ah get the west orchard fully productive again. If Ah can't, and sales are flat, or worse...then our savings are gone the second the tax-stallion comes knockin'."

Mac reached across the table to cover my hoof with his. "Thought for a while now there were problems you weren't tellin' us about. You started doin' more barterin' instead of buyin'. You got a lot more careful... Little things, but they added up.”

I nodded, but inside a bitter voice was spitting words at both of us: it obviously hadn't added up to much.

“So. Yup, we've got problems. What solutions can we come up with?"

"Ah've been tryin' for months to come up with things, Mac! Longer! Tried sellin' at the gala, hopin' it would get us some attention from the high-falutin' ponies up there or at least earn some bits on the spot, but they're too good for our food. Ah was goin' to use my rodeo winnings for us, 'til Mayor Mare put out that call for help about town hall. Ah was tryin' to hold out until somepony told me the mayor herself had a few buckets in her office, the roof was so screwed up."

I doffed my hat and tossed it into an empty chair. "Didn't even win anything anyways, so moot point. Can't make any money with mah legs or lasso."

"What 'bout kickin' the prices of our goods up? If overhead's up, maybe it's just inflation."

"The cider's already expensive, Mac, at least to us small town folks. Ponies put aside money all year, lookin' forward to cider season. Rainbow even has a special bank for it. It's the size of your head! To increase profits there we'd have to find ways to make it more efficiently, or simply make more of it with the same amount of apples and effort. Ah think Ah've done all Ah can with the first, and the second means doing what Flim and Flam did. Are you willin' to sacrifice some quality for more bits?"

"Nope."

"Didn't think so. As for the zap apple jam, Ah suppose we could raise the price a little, but one reason we sell it so well is because Filthy Rich marks it up a bit at his store. The ponies who know come to the source."

"Well. Plant more trees? We still—"

"We've got more land, yes, and I plan to plant more trees, but it will be years before they bear fruit, and we'll have gone into deep debt by then. The money those new trees'd bring in won't make up for the interest on the loans we'd have to take out." I opened another notebook full of red and green tables and equations full of frustrated-looking slashes.

"Well, then we'd better ask for some help. None of your friends, our friends would ever want to see the farm in trouble."

I shook my head, hearing bits of old inner monologues of mine passing Mac's lips. "What would they do? Twilight could help us harvest faster, but that doesn't help when we space out the sales anyways. Pinkie could help Granny bake more pies, but chances are good she'd eat as many as she baked! Ah've no idea what Fluttershy would do. Rarity would prolly try and dress up the old cart, whoop-de-doo. Dash already sends rain our way whenever we need it, mostly."

Mac grimaced. "The princesses—"

"No." I sliced a foreleg down through the air. "They can't play favorites. Ah've seen 'em have this conversation before. Ah might be one of the Elements of Harmony, but when it comes to this, Ah'm just another citizen."

Mac sat, shoulders slumping, lost in thought. The silence dragged on, and it seemed the whole house listened. Mac finally leaned forward again, ears pricked. "So what then?"

When I sat down I'd hoped Mac would see something I hadn't, but with every passing minute my heart sank. Now I was left with the only option I could think of that meant a future for the family. I took a deep breath, let it all out, and somehow met my big brother's eyes. "Ah've bucked up. Ah can't fix it. We'll have to, to sell the farm."

Mac's eyes grew enormous, and he shoved his chair back from the table. The scraping almost drowned out the scrabble on the stairs back in the sitting room, and I groaned, the sound dying down into a whimper. I locked gazes with Mac, and I'm sure despair was plain in my eyes.

"Apple Bloom."

Mac had already pushed back from the table, so he was first to the stairs. I followed, weariness of more than the body dragging at me. We heard a door shut before either of us had even started up the stairs. With every step I climbed, I regretted the bitterness I'd allowed myself to show the other day.

By the time we got to the top, we found her room's door open, Granny Smith asleep inside with a book open in her lap. Granny's bedroom door was closed, and filly-sized sobs filtered through it.

"Apple Bloom, c'mon out," Mac said, tapping on the door.

"N-n-never coming out. I-I-I made our family poor and now we'll be homeless!" she wailed, words muffled and slurred.

Mac raised a hoof as if to knock the door in, and raised a brow at me. I shook my head, and moved closer to the door. I felt like I was thinking with a brain made of mud. Every time I grasped the tail of a promising tactic to use on Apple Bloom, the thought sank again. I was so tired. I barely had the energy to keep myself motivated and comforted enough to not toss myself off of Ponyville dam. Now I had to be strong for Apple Bloom too? The effort seemed superequine.

"Apple Bloom, we would be in this situation whether or not you broke a few things. It is not your fault. And we might not have to move. The new owner may let us live and work here."

The crying intensified. Mac shot me a look, and I gave him one right back that said 'you do better!'

"We love you Apple Bloom. Never forget that. It doesn't matter where we end up! We'll have each other. No bank can take that away from us." Mac sounded so resolute, so absolutely confident, that even I felt better for listening to him. It was true, our little family couldn't be split up.

Apple Bloom's crying transformed into the exhausted hu-hu-huhs and sniffles of a spent child. Mac and I sat there in the hallway until those too died down. I nodded towards my room, and once inside, I shut the door behind us with care.

"Ah'll find some legal pencil-pusher tomorrow who can give us some advice, and then..."

"Want me to make up a sign?" Mac asked, his voice so low I wondered if he even wanted me to hear him.

I nodded, reaching up to rub a tear from my cheek. "Sweet Apple Acres. For sale by owner." The words tore at my heart, and I could see by the tremble of his chin Mac didn't take them any better. "Oh Mac!" I lunged at him, throwing my forelegs around his neck. He curled one around me, resting his chin on my back.

I couldn't even enjoy this, this freely-given comfort from my big brother. Voices inside kept prodding me, reminding me how this was my fault, and if Mac—my rock and anchor as much as my brother—really knew how ugly I was inside, he'd be locking his door against me too.

"When're we gonna tell Granny?" Mac tightened his leg around me. "Can't exactly put out a sign, expect her not to notice."

"Ah guess we can hold off on puttin' it up for a bit 'til we know how to break it to her." I felt like my chest was trying to crush my own heart. "Once it's u-up, it isn't like it'll take long for word to spread."

I soaked Mac's mane with fresh tears. "We'll figure out what to say to Gran." When I tried to conjure up words that might soften the blow, I got an image instead: Granny Smith's face going slack in shock, before sagging with sorrow. I had one more Apple to disappoint, still.

Author's Note:

While a bureaucratic pony named Red Tape is kind of a 'duh,' I did first see such a character in Alaborn's story http://www.fimfiction.net/story/43169/applejacks-bar so it bears mentioning, and you should read it sometime.

Comments

[wzium]

New chapter Funny, because about an hour ago I was wondering when you're going to post the next chapter... Well, time to read! *squeals happily*

[Mad Maudlin]

A) Was the stapler red?
B) Have you been studying business history? Because thats a classic stunt by the rich and powerful right there. Jack up taxes and expenses to drive the targets out of business, purchase their property for a song, then profit with the help of tax loopholes and clever accountants.
C) Has Applejack considered the traditional responses of growing marijuana or opium poppies, or setting up a meth lab? AB's alchemical knack would come in handy there.

And I suppose there might be some sort of 'farm relief' she can file for, though I vote for 'burn the farm, salt the earth, collect the insurance'.

[Nagaina]

Great story, continue!

[Loeden]

Oh wow, I loved the shout-out to Abalorn's story.. Maybe AJ can go into the liquor business, she's named after it, yeah? Still, wow, loving this story.

[Velvet_Divan]

4254804 The stapler's color does not register for Red Tape, because color does not affect its function. (It's battleship gray though.) No, I haven't been studying business, but it doesn't surprise me a bit that I'm unintentionally imitating life there. Commit atrocities for money? Easy choice for many.

Glad you're all enjoying the story! Please tell your friends about it. The next chapter is a ~16k whopper, so be prepared.

[wzium]

I'm surprised I didn't leave longer comment here... Anyway, it was really good chapter. I love it how AJ struggles to fix everything, but fails no matter how hard she tries. It's very realistic, my family have some financial problems recently, so I can relate to her and understand perfectly how she must feel. It's especially sad, because she has no one to support her and she slowly falls into depression...

[Emil]

While the writing is good, I have mixed feelings about the requirement that Applejack and the Princesses have to grab the idiot ball in order for this plotline to work out. Applejack is a national hero who was essential to saving, at the very least, the capital city, the country, and the world on different occasions. It's not playing favorites to keep one of the keys to national security on retainer, and it's hard to see the rest of the Equestrian government (if any) protest if the Elements get paid as well as soldiers drawing hazard pay. And even if the government has to pick up the idiot ball, then the Princesses can just buy out the farm themselves and pay the Apples handsomely to work the farm.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that while this has the makings of a good story, I need to suspend a lot more disbelief than usual for it to work.

[John Tannius]

Stubborn Applejack is stubborn

Any business person would tell you it's not what you know but who you know. There is nothing wrong or dishonest to having an in with royalty or other entities of importance. I could actually see Twilight buying the farm and keeping the deed for the Apple family. Since the story is complete I'll just have to read and find out.