• Published 14th Mar 2012
  • 2,595 Views, 78 Comments

Horseshoes - Peter Yellowhammer



Caramel and Big Macintosh compete in an athletic competition. But nopony else knows why...

  • ...
3
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Inescapable

“Good heavens...those two really are brave to do what they do, aren't they?”

Big Macintosh couldn't help but overhear Applejack and Clementine make conversation as the first two checked the health of the orange saplings toward the entrance. They weren't about to neglect their plant life, tempting though it was in this case. The cream-colored filly simply sat by the perimeter and gabbed about whatever she felt like, whenever she felt like it. Most of it was ignorable, especially when it came to her dark brown curls (she emphasized the color every time she mentioned it.) That particular rhetorical question, however, made him take notice. Out of habit, he glanced to his left to see the “approved” fields stretch out to where Caramel must have been waiting. A couple of butterflies hovered around the apple saplings there, but nothing else was noteworthy.

Yesterday was a wash: all they learned was his left hind leg was indeed weaker than the others, so it did less damage. He didn't want whatever she had to say to ruin this one, too.

Applejack wasn't visible to him, but he was sure she was squinting 'that squint' as she asked: “Those two...?”

“Oh, your brother and his workmate, dear. Such a risky policy on their parts!”

An' jus' whut are you plannin' now?

“An' jus' whut are you talkin' 'bout?”

Macintosh kept inspecting the saplings. Something about Clem's voice made her compelling enough; but then her eyes just sparkled at the listener. He had seen the deadly combination bewitch her parents into the dangerous pair that invalidated Granny's royal deed to the land. Or maybe it just revealed who they really were the whole time...that was going around lately. He made himself keep his face forward and refused to participate in the banter, no matter how much he wanted to shut her yap.

“Well, running off and reducing their work time, of course! It must make things so hard for them when they have to catch up.”

Clem had that tone of hers again, the sickeningly sweet one. He didn't like where this was going. But he had to let it go there, or she would just make things worse.

“Ah reckon they can handle it.” His sister sounded edgy, and who could blame her?

“I would 'reckon' the same if it weren't becoming a habit already,” the little filly almost sang.

A habit? Whut're they teachin' foals o'er in Manehattan?

“A habit?

“Yes, dear.”

“They only did it once! How is that a habit?”

This reassured him. He just had to make sure it only happened the once, and no trouble would come to them.

Wait...

Oh, now he saw what was shaping up here.

“Well, it's perhaps not a habit as far as the word means,” Clem teased, “but you know what they say about boys and their break time.”

“Ah don' reckon Ah do.”

“There's that silly word again! But you must know what I'm saying. All it would take is the slightest desire...and those two would leave the fields fallow for their own pleasure!”

This was getting dangerous. Caramel's boyfriend moved on to the next row of saplings as nonchalantly as he could, but his hide fur already bristled at the probable conclusion: perhaps what she was going to threaten to do...was in the works even as they were checking the plants.

“Whut 'zactly are you trying t'say, Miss Clemmy?”

“I am not saying anything other than those two had better watch themselves. Who knows what could get in their heads? I myself have heard stories of ponies losing their minds when not working.”

Losin' their minds...you said that fer a reason, Ah'm sure of it.

“Oh, really?”, Applejack countered. “Then perhaps Ah should find a job fer you. There's plenty t'do 'round here!”

Heh heh. Ah'd like t'see that!

“He he! Maybe I should. Oh, by the way: the last two rows of saplings don't need anything today.”

But he already knew it wouldn't happen. She wouldn't be caught in her own trap. Especially when it seemed she had already snagged her game...like a baby cockatrice luring a hapless traveler into its nest.

No pesky questions, not askin' fer mah input...eeyup. Whutever she's done, she's already done it.

“Really? Mind if'n Ah check? Not that Ah don' trust you, mind.”

“But of course! Go right ahead!”

As much as he tried to resist the sweet little voice, as much as he tried to think of Caramel's slightly goofy tenor instead...the other Apple sibling finally felt his natural curiosity get the best of him. He looked to the sapling rows in question, only to meet the slippery pony's gaze. She had an eerily serene look, from her lime green ribbons offsetting her crimson eyes, to her pastel blue dress billowing in the April wind. This pony would never look like she belonged.

“Those really are some troubling stories, though,” she continued, keeping Mac's eyes trained on her. “If they're not careful, those two...we could be hearing a story like them soon.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks, sugarcube. That's th' least o' our—HAY, GIT BACK HERE!”




The filly's last words were screaming in his brain. There was only one way she could have known. He was running as fast as whatever sanity he had left would allow; except he knew Clementine had drawn his sister over to her so he could do just that, without his sister catching up to him. But as fear pummeled his insides, he found he cared less and less. However she was doing it, however it came to pass, they had to get away from it. Too much was at stake.

He had to tell Caramel, and fast.




“I was wondering when you'd—whoa whoa WHOA SLOW DOWN!”

Macintosh screeched to a full stop just before where Caramel stood. He did thankfully manage to ensure most of the displaced dirt didn't belong to the recently ploughed fields...but not all of it. Either way, his colt ended up covered in mud. He didn't seem to like it.

He took a few seconds to calm himself down, mostly to start planning what would happen next.

“Mel, we hafta git away from here. We're bein' watched.”

“...How about I finish having a horrifying flashback, then we go?”

“Whut?” He really didn't have time for this...but what?

Mel made a strained laugh before explaining: “Long story short, I had a nightmare...and I'm reliving it in the worst way.”

“Look, could you jus'--”

“BIG MACINTOSH, GET YER SORRY SELF BACK HERE!”

“Oh, horseapples!”

Seeing no other option, he threw the muddy Caramel onto his back and dashed to the right, away from the field. The slimy silt didn't bother him as much as the hot pursuit his sister was making, which made him feel slimy without question. He had to lose her before they got to the barn; it was the only way.

“Hold on, an' don' you dare let go.”

As he felt Mel cling to him, Mac bolted to the left, making a large arc. He diverted around one of the larger hills. It made the trip longer, but it also made him harder to track with all the curves he was going to make behind it and beyond. Hoofsteps followed them across the stretch, but he knew what to do. It wasn't nice, but he had to do it.

His sister was never one for deception...one way or the other. It must have taken every ounce of self-restraint she had to keep smiling at the dinner table. He hated that he was holding secrets from her at a time like this.

But if she caught him, he'd have to tell her about Clementine; she'd either think it was ridiculous or horrifying. Whichever it was, she would discuss it with the Oranges, which was unacceptable. Too much damage had already been done. The town was probably spreading rumors as fast as he was galloping to avoid them.

They were reaching the last third of the arc...and there sat the barn in the distance. Mac dared to glance back: she was obscured by the collective slope of the hills. He got closer and closer...and then found a safe spot some odd meters before the barn itself. He nearly threw Caramel off his back making a sharp turn, reaching the back of the crevice and finally slowing down to a stop. The whole route was convoluted, but it promised to hide them.

Not wanting any hint of their presence, Applejack's brother preemptively shushed his boyfriend. The hoofsteps slowed down as they stopped where the barn stood.

“AH KNOW YER IN THERE!”

Breathe in, breathe out.

“AH'LL GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE T'COME CLEAN! COME OUTTA THERE!”

Did Caramel kiss his hoof? Odd time to do so...

“T'AIN'T FUNNY, BIG BROTHER!”

He agreed on that account.

“YOU MADE US LOOK FOOLISH, Y'KNOW! AH BELIEVE THAT FILLY'S SNEAKY LIKE YOU SAY...but t'ain't no reason t'bolt like that! Just come out o' there, real civil like, and let's make amends.”

If only it were that simple...Breathe in, breathe out.

“ALRIGHT, IF'N YER GONNA BE THAT WAY, AH'M COMIN' IN THERE!”

BAM!

“...OH, AIN'T YOU JUS' SO CLEVER. AH KNOW YER NEARBY! SHOW YERSELF!”

All three of them waited impatiently. The sun was going to set soon.

“...FINE. IF YER NOT BACK IN FIFTEEN MINUTES, YOU WON'T LIKE WHUT AH DO 'BOUT IT!”

She galloped the short way back to the farm, narrowly missing their spot. Once the area was safe, both the scandalized stallions flopped to the ground. Their heart rates began to settle.

Macintosh looked to Caramel. While he wasn't looking, the little pony must have cleaned himself remarkably quietly.

“So...”, the now clean pony started, “mind telling me what that was about?”

Mac scanned the area: it didn't seem suspect. But then, how was he to tell?

“That area we ran from wuz bein' monitored. Ah don' know how, Ah don' know who by, but that spyin' may've put us in a heap o' trouble.”

Mel didn't seem to understand.

“...Monitored? Why?”

Well, at least he didn't question it, not that it would have been unreasonable. But time was precious.

“Why not? We're two stallions in love, doin' questionable things away from where ponies can see. Ah'm not th' smartest pony, but even Ah know details ain't needed t'stir up th' townsponies. Y'know 'em as well as Ah do; it won't be pretty.”

Mel was shivering a little now, poor guy, as he said: “W-well...I'd say you're pretty smart. I barely even considered h-how intrusive they can be.”

The champion snorted.

“Be thankful. Frankly, Ah'd rather you not be bothered...Ah'd rather it never came up.”

The loser was still shivering. It seemed Caramel's life was nowhere near leaving him in peace, but Macintosh was nowhere near giving up on him...just maybe giving up on something else. He had to pick his battles here.

"W-We're so vulnerable...and here I thought we were shut off from the world. T-That's what I get for being silly, huh?" He saw Mel forcing himself to take deep breaths.

Mac pulled him closer and nuzzled him. After a while, Mel calmed down enough to where he could speak again.

“A-Any idea who it might be?”

He shuddered, feeling pinpricks all over his body for each imaginary eye scrutinizing him.

“Well, Ah meant Ah don' know who's doin' th' actual spyin'. Clementine's probably usin' th' info.”

“Oh, don't be stupid," retorted Mel, despite him still shivering slightly. "How would she even understand this sort of thing?”

“She doesn't have ta; she just has t'know t'ain't normal. That's all it takes...”

Mel looked toward the town as he asked: “S-so...what do we do now?”

“Well...Ah like th' idea o' gettin' th' hells outta here. Maybe Appleloosa or Illineigh, somewhere quiet.” Mac felt his blood pressure rise at the choices.

“What?!", exclaimed Caramel, pulling away. "That's a terrible idea! Once everypony knows we've gone, they'll just go crazy with stories!”

“But if'n we stay here, we'll be paraded 'round like track-an'-field champeens!”, countered the swaggerless pony. The confusing memory still made him queasy. He was tempted to vomit that day just so they would leave him alone, not that it would have been hard.

“...So either way, we're screwed.”

Eeyup.” The barn looked inviting to him now.

“In that case, I say we stay and face the music,” a suddenly brave Mel proposed.

Mac gulped. The eyes pricked him even deeper.

“...Well, if you could do that alone, that'd be nice. Ah cain't stand th' thought of it.”

Caramel looked disgusted, but just raised his eyebrows as he said: “Nice try. If I'm doing it, you're doing it.”

“...Ah want 'nother plan.”

“There ain't no other plan, babe!”, Mel struck back. “Why are you trying to squirm out of this? What, you're suddenly shy again? That competition never happened, is that what you're saying?”

Big Macintosh flinched. His lover seemed to know exactly how to get at him, and at the worst time. Just what he needed.

“Th-that's got nothin' t'do with this, an' you know it.”

“Oh, yeah?!”, Mel escalated. “Then tell me this: why did you enter in the first place?”

Upon hearing those words, his throat dried up, his will to fight died. He looked to his usually sweet and sassy lover with nothing but fear.

Please, anythin' but this.

“That always bothered me,” the loser continued. “You're just not the type to go preening around like that...or at least I thought you weren't. I believe you got carried away like you said...but what made you enter anyway? What did you have to gain?”

“C-Caramel...can this wait? We got other issues--”

“No. I want an answer. It makes no sense for you to do what you did, not for anypony else but you. So just say it now and get it over with. What are you hiding from me?

“...”

Please, jus' drop it.

“Well?!”

“...Ah...Ah...”

Please, forgive me.

“Just spit it out.”

“...Ah...entered that competition...because o' you.”