Friendship Hearts

by Silver Letter

Ep7: An Ill Apple (pt 2)

I look out over at the bay. I put my hoof over my brow to shield my eyes from the sun. I can see the curvature of the land that gives this body of water its signature name. They look like two long hooves to me, embracing the sea. I feel the wind embracing me too and as I inhale, I taste salt. There is a gnarled cobblestone road that winds down a steep hill. An old stallion with a black brimmed hat leads a herd of goats up the path opposite us, occasionally using a stick to keep them in line. We passed by a lot of pastures going inland. Down there, I see the tops of windmills and pointy houses.

“It’s so pretty!” Cheerilee exclaims. She takes her camera out and photographs the area. After that, she replaces it with a muffin and chomps down on it. It’s her second of the day. I would have thought that breakfast would have been enough for her but I don’t say anything.

“I hope we can find this Wheat Thresher. Do we have any idea where to look?” I ask the others.

“He comes from a family of farmers. He must have a relative that lives close by. Let’s try the outskirts for now. We might not find much going into town itself,” Apps suggests.

Cheerilee scratches her head. “Maybe later, we can go and check out the town. There’s lots of history around here.”

“Maybe we can but first things first.”

The road takes us through some rural land. As we continue, we catch a glimpse of the local workers tending to their orchards. A cute farm colt tips his hat at us three, which makes me smile. None who notice us appear to be taken aback at the appearance of Zecora. I doubt Zebras live here so I guess that living as slow as the ponies here do just makes them less susceptible to alarm than the ponies of Ponyville. I don’t want to say they’re friendlier necessarily. My ponies are nice enough but this place is different. I’m having a good feeling about all this. I bet that they’ll see my two friends that have such old family traditions as somebody to relate to. Conservative and kind at heart.

We come across an old iron gate in the middle of a simple wooden fence. Above it is a curved banner spanning the length of a lane shaded by long rows of tall trees. Apps stops and I do as well. The sign, in black letters, clearly spells out “Thresher Farm”.

“It appears we have arrived,” Apps says.

She turns the cart around. Zecora opens the gate for her to enter and we pass through. To the sides of the lane are beautiful grassy fields extending outwards to the hill where we came from and further on below where we can’t see. The air is full of life. Bees and butterflies are everywhere.

When the path ends, I see a two story farmhouse with a lot of windows. The exterior is painted white and it’s surrounded by tall hedges and climbing vines on one side. A stone path leads to the front door and a veranda. I can hear the sounds of distant cows and the ringing of a bell.

“Let’s go up and introduce ourselves,” I say.

“Yeah, we should do that,” Apps says. She is looking around, taking in the sight of this farm. I bet she feels at home around here. In a lot of ways, it doesn’t look all that different from the farm back in Ponyville save for a lack of anything to do with apples as far as I can tell.

She unhooks herself from the cart and we all walk towards the house. We wait as she knocks on the black wood. A farm cat looks at us from where it was resting on a chair. It gets up and leaves. Nopony comes so she knocks again. This time, we hear heavy clopping and the door opens to reveal a slow old stallion. He wears a wide farm hat and black boots. A white beard drapes from his muzzle. He blinks a couple times slowly. He gazes at us with wise eyes that are surrounded by a wrinkled face under his coat.

“Welcome to Thresher Farm. What do you all need?” he says in a very neighborly voice.

Apps smiles. “Hello, Mr. Thresher. My name is Apple Bloom.” She extends her hoof and shakes his. “I am looking for your son or maybe grandson? His name is Wheat Thresher.”

“Wheat? He came by not long ago. He lives here now I reckon. But he’s not my son. He’s my nephew. Going on 22, I think.”

“Thank you very much, sir. May I have permission to go and talk to him?” Apps says.

“You may.” He walks out of the house and points to a dirt road leading away from the house. “Go toward the barn past the windmill. He should be milking the cows right about now.”

“Thank you again,” Apps says. She turns around and goes towards the cart.

“Mr. Thresher, do you own this farm?” I ask.

The stallion nods. “All this land belongs to my family. It’s been that way for generations. We’ve always been kind to strangers so if you’re wanting for a warm meal then you can come by at night.” He tips his hat. “Good day.” I nod back at him. He walks back into the farmhouse and closes the door.

I like him. He’s a gentle and very polite stallion. I’m not surprised either. I bet nearly everypony around here is like that. Apps gathers her things and we head down the road. I think about how Mr. Thresher acted as we head towards the grey barn off in the distance. He was very easygoing and slow too. It makes me think about flies. I hear that they go so fast through the air that to them, we move in slow motion. I wonder if it’s like that between us and the old stallion.

Like he said, there is a large windmill. We cross a small wooden plank that crosses a ditch where water flows downhill. The land looks scuffed up by the edge. Animals probably drink there.

The barn itself looks very large and roomy. It probably fits a good number of animals inside. I can smell hay and dirt. There are rakes and scythes leaning against the barn wall. The tall doors have been left open.

“Let’s go inside. Zecora and Cheerilee, wait out here, alright?” Apps says.

They accept and the two of us walk inside. I think we’re both confident that we’ll find who we’re looking for in here. We’ve gone on a long journey but we’re only seconds away from confronting this colt. I am going to let Apps do the speaking. It is her place most of all.

Our hooves crunch hay on the floor. Two long rows of stalls run along the length of the barn. I glance to my side to see various animals: goats, pigs, and a few cows that are lying down. He’s not in any of them. The back of the barn is opened up too. We reach these open doors and look out into the field. A crowd of cows are clustered near a fenced off area. Apps looks down. I notice the hoof prints too. We make our way towards the cows. One turns its neck and sees us but soon goes back to eating, a bell around its neck clattering. I can now hear the sound of metal being scraped.

Apps and I walk around the cows until we see the stallion with his back turned. He is removing the top of a second pail like he’s going to start filling it. Apps clears her throat to get his attention. It works and he immediately freezes as if he recognizes her just by the sounds of her grunting.

I watch him as he turns around. His face seems paralyzed, unable to smile or express fear. He just seems confused. He’s as pretty as Apps made him sound. His coffee colored hair gives way to feminine eyelashes and a sloping muzzle. His muscles are firm and rigid as he stands there. The image of a mallet graces his flank.

“App….Apple Bloom?” he mutters in shock.

“That’s right. You’re seeing no ghost. I’m absolutely positively real,” Apps says. I notice that she stands taller than he does. The colt lets himself grow smaller when she’s around. I wonder if that’s the face of a guilty pony.

Wheat arches his back. A mixture of confusion and anger emerges in a sharp frown. “What in Equestria forced you to come here? Tell me why do you have to disturb my life? To come to my uncle’s farm?”

“I came because you affected my life. You can’t just go away like there are no consequences.” The colt is trapped and he knows it. Apps approaches, forcing him to back into the fence. “You think coming all the way out here is just going to erase the past? Well, the past has a way of catching up with ponies, doesn’t it?”

I think she’s coming on too strong but there is no way I can interfere, even if the colt does look distressed. I came to provide backup to Apps in case she needed it but it looks like she’s definitely taken charge, putting the colt in his place.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about! I didn’t want to leave anything behind. My past is here at the farm just like it was back in Ponyville! Why did you have to follow me here? Can’t you just leave the past alone?”

“Absolutely not!” Apps roars. “Get a grip, stallion. Or are you a stallion at all? You sound like a filly! A weak helpless filly with his flank against a fence! Guess which little filly got me pregnant? Hmm….it was you!”

He stands there still, dumbfounded at the sudden news. He then glances at me and sweats. He forces himself to stand to his full height. “Is…is that actually true? I mean, how is that possible?”

“Oh, c’mon! You suddenly can’t recall our time in the red barn?” Apps says mockingly. As I watch him, I see how his eyes dart from her to me and back to her again. There is something behind them that I didn’t expect: worry…maybe even fear. I am not sure what though. I don’t think he wants her to touch him, which is odd.

“Hey, Apps…we should give him a break,” I say with an uplifting tone. “I know he ran off from you but he didn’t know about the foal. We should give him some time to adjust.” She looks at me and I try to make myself look sympathetic rather than firm which would suggest I’m out to get in the way.

“That’s fine,” Apps says. “In fact, it’s good. Let’s all head back to the farmhouse. We can get everything settled right. I bet your uncle will have a few choice words to use.” All of us, including the trembling colt, reach our friends. We turn back towards the farmhouse. It’s probably the longest walk the colt has ever taken at this farm.

“Let’s go inside,” Apps says.

“Alright.” The colt does as instructed, but hesitantly.

Inside, the interior is old looking and minimalist. Unlike the Apples’ rustic charm, there’s very little color and black dominates the walls and what little décor is around. Around one corner, I spot a mare wearing a flowing black dress sitting at a table, her back hoof pressing on the pedal for a sewing machine.

“He’s in the study,” Wheat says. We walk up a wood staircase. Aged pictures line the walls and I stare at them as we head upwards and down another hall lit only by old gas lamps. At the end is an old door with its hinges and knob made of solid brass. He knocks and asks for permission to enter which is granted. Inside, the room is white. Pieces of old tools that are probably from generations past are hanging up. A cabinet holds many antique plates. The old stallion is sitting at his desk. I think he was writing a letter as his ink pen is still freshly set in a well.

“Hello, Mr. Thresher. I’ve come with very important news,” Apps proclaims. Her body language is bright and bold. “This concerns your nephew and your family.” Me and the others step back and let her speak. The old stallion sits there silently, only moving to light a wooden pipe. He doesn’t show much emotion but his brow, and the lines that his hard labor created, tightens as she mentions the foal on the way. When she finishes, I see that Wheat is staring at the floor, his bangs drooping as if saddened too.

“This is a serious predicament my nephew has went and gotten himself into. Ms. Bloom, I’ve listened to your words with the belief that you are honest and forthright in the way you carry yourself. I know of your family. My brother knew your parents. I suppose my Wheat desiring you was simply how things had to be and now they are the way things are now.” He looks at Wheat, his demeanor no less serious. “Son, are there any words that you may speak for yourself?”

There is a silence as we wait for Wheat. He sighs then looks at his uncle. “I’m afraid not. I didn’t know about the foal but it doesn’t
matter now.”

“I reckon so. You came to me instead of your father. Looking for a pony out there that stands by you and I do. But here, we have traditions. Whether you knew about the foal or not, you must abide by them or you won’t be welcome in his family any longer.” He looks away from him. The colt’s eyes water. “Ms. Bloom, I’ll schedule your wedding rather soon if you don’t mind. I can’t lose much time away from the farm. I hope you understand.”

“It’s okay with me,” Apps says.

“Good.” He takes out a glass liquor bottle. “In our family, when a member is going to marry, we have a toast. Usually, both parents are here but in this case, we’ll have to make do.” He pours one for everypony. We all take one.

“To the future happy couple,” Mr. Thresher says, lifting his glass to shoulder height. The colt consumes his in one swallow. Apps doesn’t hesitate to drink hers as well. After, Wheat walks out of the room without a word. Everypony else drinks, including me. Cheerilee barely sips hers though. The liquor burns down my throat.

Apps’ things are stored in a shed. We are invited for dinner and eat with the rest of the family. Apps and Wheat sit at opposite ends of the large dinner table with Mr. Thresher at the head and his wife near him. We have really nice greens for dinner with fried tomatoes. I don’t know who cooked the food. Maybe some other family member or a housemaid. Wheat doesn’t eat much and doesn’t engage in conversation. His uncle does, asking about how things are doing in town and where Zecora is from. Cheerilee asks a lot of questions about the area. They don’t see much around here that’s out of the ordinary. Pretty much everything here is a set pattern and everypony out in the rural lands lives in the same way. They all love family here. It’s one of the most important things to them. Although, such strict traditions is definitely strange to me. I wonder how my life would be different if it was run like the Thresher family was. Would I have a life with Sweetie? Many things could have been different. Even a foal could have been involved.

After we eat, we decide to call it a night. It’s after eight and dark outside. They don’t have internal heating and it’s freezing. I expected it since it’s the coast and it’s much colder here than in Ponyville. I follow Apps to our guest room. Zecora and Cheerilee gets another next to ours. The wife gives us extra blankets and Apps stacks them on the bed. I am told to find wood for the stove in a chest nearby. I take some cut wood out and put them in the old iron thing. I hope it’s close enough to keep us warm. I have Apps light a match and get the wood burning. As soon as I can, I hop into bed and burrow my body under the heavy covers.

I let out a sigh of comfort. I hope I’m not crazy but I think I almost see my own breath. There is a bit of light from the fire cast on the far wall of the room. I look at the vertical red lines as Apps comes to bed. She has taken her hair clip off so her hair moves freely.

“Hey, Apple Bloom,” I whisper.

“What is it?”

I bet if I wasn’t so cold, I might blush just thinking of the question. “Is getting married to this colt something you wanted to do? I thought you just wanted somepony to help with the foal.”

“You know what the old stallion said?”

“Uh huh.”

“My family has traditions too. My mom was married before she had foals. So was Granny Smith. And if Applejack has foals, she will too.”

“But do you love him?”

I can’t see her face but she chuckles. “I think I had feelings for him and I will love him even more when we’re together.” She reaches over and kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry one bit. I’ll get married soon enough that it won’t interfere with yours at all.”

“Okay, Apps. Can we cuddle a bit….for warmth?”

“That sounds good.” She puts her hooves around me and rests her head on my shoulder, her muzzle almost touching my neck. I put a hoof around her too and it gets warmer under the covers. Sleeping should be much more comfortable now. I close my eyes and prepare to fall asleep.

I don’t know how much time passes but I am suddenly shaken awake. My eyes sag and try to open to see who had done it. I can’t focus in the dark and I feel a slap on my cheek. Cold air rushes into my lungs and I cough and moan from the sharp pain. I blink and see Apps’ face, illuminated by a flashlight like one might do during a scary campfire story.

“Apps, what did you do that for?” I mumble.

“I have little time to explain. Zecora is getting up right now. I don’t think we can get Cheerilee up though so she’s not going.”

“Going? For what?” I try to sit up and I push my hoof into the pillow.

“I had a bad feeling when I went to bed. And what do you know but when I look out the window, I see a certain colt running across the lawn and towards the field,” Apps says.

“Really? What do you think he’s doing?”

She looks at me seriously. “I’m sorry for the slap but we need to go now. I think he’s trying to run away and avoid marrying me. We have no time to lose.” I get out of bed and we get ready. I put on an extra thick cloak and she has gotten a lamp from our stuff. When I’m set, we go into the hall and find Zecora. She is also cloaked.

“What time is it, you guys?” I ask, my voice kind of weak.

“Time to get my future husband back,” Apps declares.

I groan but I can’t do anything about it. We go downstairs and into the moonlit night. I gaze at the field of stars above us as we trot into the field. It’s such a beauty. We cut through the wheat field, using a path to make it across. Zecora is in front, using her expert tracking skill to try and find any trace of him. What we know is in what direction Apps saw him running in. Soon, we reach the edge of the property at an old run down fence. The area becomes more forested beyond the farm with lots of thorny brush.

“You think he’s in here?” I ask. It’s so dark that I can barely see inside beyond where Apps is pointing her flashlight. I hope it’s not scary like the Everfree forest.

“I am sure from what I can see.

He is hiding out here most definitely,” Zecora says.

“Let’s not split up for any reason,” Apps insists. “My phone has no signal in the hills so it will suck to get lost around here. Anyway, let’s go. Let’s start by just going straight and see what we can find.”

We do as she says and scout ahead. It’s really cold and I shiver as I hold the lamp. It makes strange shadows that plays with my mind. I sometimes think I’m seeing a pony shape but it’s just a branch. I don’t hear hooves running either. Just crickets or an owl. I have no idea if we have any chance of finding him. I sort of worry that he’ll get hurt or freeze out here. I don’t know if he has food or any sense of direction. But Apps marches on, utterly unfazed by the cold.

Zecora is okay too. She looks around, focused on trying to find his tracks. After a while, she tells us she can smell smoke. I can’t smell anything but perhaps her Zebra senses are sharper than mine.

We keep walking through the cold night. I grip the lamp in my teeth. I hear Apps mumbling to herself. She’s cursing her bad luck. The woods have a heavy musk smell, of dirt and plant life. These lands aren’t very sweet. The farmhouse too seems to lack sugar from what their cooking tells me. I don’t like it. I miss Peppermint Drops and I haven’t even been gone that long. Does Sweetie often go to many places like this?

Zecora stops and points at a moss covered log. “Over the log, there’s a slope going down.”

We go to it and crouch low. I can see the faint glow of a fire where I think there’s a clearing.

“I guess that’s it,” Apps says. “You two approach from different directions. I’ll go in from the front.”

We do as she says. I go quietly around the area, keeping the fire in sight but keeping to the shadows. I see the colt sitting alone in the dirt, watching the flames lick the freezing air. Apps enters the clearing from behind. She makes no attempt to be quiet and he turns around. He stands up, alerted. Then, Zecora and I make our move and form a triangle with Apps.

“How did you find me out here?” The colt knows he’s been caught and again, has nowhere to go. I don’t think he’ll even try to run away from us.

“My friend is great at tracking things in the forest. It was a bad time to try and pull this nonsense on me again,” Apps says.

“It’s not nonsense!” he protests.

“It is to run from your responsibilities. Now, let’s head back to the house. I dragged my friends into this and I won’t go back empty hooved.”

Wheat has no choice. He silently smothers out the fire and we walk back through the woods towards the house. Apps watches carefully until he goes back into his room and shuts the door. We say good night to Zecora and head to bed ourselves. My head sinks into the pillow and I’m gone.

---

Mr. Thresher is rather consternated at the news of what happened last night. He orders Wheat to do double chores just so he’ll be out of his sight. He apologizes to Apple Bloom and says that he’ll keep a close eye on him from now on. He’s also going to push the wedding closer. He’s sending somepony to go to town and ask his friend, who is a marriage clerk, to come and officiate this weekend.

I write to Sweetie. I tell her about the beautiful countryside and the old fashioned kindness of the Thresher household. But I also relay to her my concern about Apps. I think she’s acting strangely. I’ve never seen her act so possessive before but when it comes to this colt, she just has to have him. It’s odd to me. There’s the foal to take into consideration but I doubt that Wheat thinks about it much. He probably isn’t coming up with names in his head but only ways out. When I write, I remember the days when we used to play with dolls. Things were a lot simpler then. The filly I knew was such a free spirit. Where did she go and why did this mare replace her? This mare that chases other ponies in the woods.

There’s a swing outside the house that’s tied to a tree branch. I like swinging on it and I find myself there when I want a place to think. I asked Mr. Thresher during breakfast if he liked music and he said he plays a few instruments. He got Wheat’s old guitar for me to try if I wanted. I hold it, balancing it against my shoulder, while I sit on the swing and try to play a few notes half decently. I miss many. I’m not that great at it.

I watch the season’s changes here at the barn too. Leaves are falling and the workers rake them into large piles. A pretty hummingbird is nesting on top of an old chime set above me. The mother flies off and I lose it among the blinding clouds.

Mr. Thresher takes his nephew down the farm road. They’re talking to each other. They do look very much alike. The colt must have the upmost respect for his uncle. Probably why he’s still going to go through this whole marriage thing. I doubt he’ll run again. Something tells me he doesn’t have the strength or the will.

Apps and the others come out of the house. They come to me.

“Let’s head over to town,” Apps says.

“Why are we going there?”

“Mr. Thresher said that he would pay for everything for the wedding so we’re going on a bit of a spending spree this afternoon,” Cheerilee says. She looks excited, probably brimming of ideas for Apps: the many dresses, her makeup, and the jewelry too.

I get off the swing. “Alright, let me put the guitar away first then I’ll join you at the end of the road.”

It takes fifteen minutes to half gallop to town. We don’t bother taking our time. There’s not much to see on the way except more farms and even more animals. The streets are pretty lively. It is a coast town after all. There are ponies visiting the many old boutiques and bed and breakfasts that were built in the outskirts decades ago. Tourists from out of town flock to the docks and take pictures by the pretty boats.

We walk along the cobblestone streets. I have to occasionally nudge old ponies to get by since many walk like turtles. Cheerilee takes pictures left and right. Many houses are off white or blue. The town has many iron lampposts lining the sidewalks. An old fashioned looking traffic officer directs carriages heading in and out of town alongside pedestrians. He whistles for us to cross a busy street. It’s past noon and we’ve arrived at a dress shop that Mrs. Thresher mentioned to Apps earlier. We head inside.

It takes nearly all day for Apps to do her shopping. I do like the rush of marriage preparations and it’s a thrill to see a mare pick out a dress that’s just perfect. Still, it doesn’t feel complete. Not in this future marriage. Knowing one of the parties isn’t devoted like she is dulls the experience. Although I must admit that almost nothing can diminish the beauty of a perfectly cut gem on a necklace. Apple Bloom makes for a delightful bride in her pearl dress and fine lace. Us girls ogle her beautiful ensemble and reach out to hug her and giggle together.

Cheerilee doesn’t know the full extent of things yet. She wasn’t there last night and I don’t think Apps wants her to know. But I guess I don’t either. The colt pretty much keeps his mouth shut all the time, wishing to keep to himself as much as he can.

Apps almost made a huge mistake by going to the bakery at the end of the street. I bet they must make pretty good wedding cakes but I am going to bake for her personally and I will not take no for an answer. I already have some ideas in mind as we head back to the house.

The days pass by quickly, surprising since the farm is such a serene yet boring place. The family elders don’t even play games. They just work…like, all the time. At least I still have my friends if I need somepony to talk to. The days are hectic though. I have so much to do to fill out the obligations I made for myself. I made the cake as promised and also cooked up a special treat that I’ll give to Apps when the time is right. I don’t see Wheat at all. I was hoping to maybe get to know him but he’s so scarce that I am barely able to say a single word before he’s off to do some work out on the farm.

The wedding is tomorrow. This morning, the rest of the Apple Family arrived in their large wagon. I could hear the clanking of their pots and pans from the veranda. The Threshers welcomed them, escorting the wagon to a large shed and helping Granny to a comfortable chair. I am glad the family could come and see Apps get married. They should be here.

Apps told me earlier that this will be the day that they learn about the foal. I don’t try to stop her. It has to be done. I watch as she leads the family inside. They are a loud bunch, unlike the locals. Mr. Thresher has given her the den to have enough private time. Before I go back outside, Apps touches my shoulder to get my attention. I turn towards her.

“Hey, can you grab my camera out of my suitcase? I would like to show them a few pictures soon,” she says.

“No problem.” I go upstairs and into our room. I see her brown suitcase with her apple emblem on it. I look for her camera and sift through her accessories and other things. My hoof touches a white container, the kind that usually holds medicines. Out of curiosity, I open it and take a peek. There are a half dozen pill bottles. They are all labeled for Apple Bloom and from the doctor in Ponyville. I am not sure what any of the names mean though. I don’t know anything about medicine. I make sure nopony is looking and I discreetly pocket one of them before taking the camera down to the den.

I find Zecora and I show her the pill bottle. She takes a look at the label.

“What kind of medicine is that, Zecora? Do mares take anything when they’re pregnant?” I ask.

Zecora stares at it for a moment, seemingly taking things into account. But in seconds, she looks quite befuddled.

“This is not for pregnancy, I think…these pills she takes with a drink.

These are for poisons or a rash. Can induce vomiting in a flash.”

I have no idea what to think of that. I stare at the bottle. “So, she’s intentionally taking something that will make her throw up?” I say. I can’t even believe my own words. That’s how strange the idea is. Why would a pony do that to herself?

“I’ve heard her vomit once or twice.

It doesn’t sound very nice,” Zecora says.

I thank Zecora and return to our room. I look at the medicines. I think about Apps going to the washroom to vomit. It’s her morning sickness, the signs of a foal. It just makes sense. But these things I’m holding don’t fit in. Apps has no reason to consume something like this since she’s not actually sick. I carefully read the names of the active ingredients in several of the pill bottles. After, I go downstairs and pass the den. At the same time, Applejack exits the room and is startled to see me standing there.

“Oh, hey there sugar cube.” It looks like there’s something heavy on her mind. It’s obvious to me what it is. The family passes by me in single file. Her brother sniffles a bit as he walks down the hall.

“They’re going to get some coffee. Think over things,” Apps whispers to me. “Oh, thanks for giving me the camera earlier. It was helpful to lead into what I wanted to talk about.”

“Sounds like they need time to absorb everything,” I say.

“They sure do.” She excuses herself to get some fresh air. I enter the den. It’s comfortable and closed off with its own fireplace and an old but well-kept sofa. I walk on the rich red carpeting over to the bookshelf. I take out an encyclopedia and look up some of the words I memorized from the bottles. As I predicted, many deal with poisons and infections. They are used in the curing of some illnesses like rashes, food poisoning, and even allergies.

The words are hard to spell but to me, they all spell the same thing. I know now that Apps has been lying about something. But how much of it? It could just be that she’s making her pregnancy worse than it is to gain sympathy with her friends and the Thresher family. Then it dawns on me in horror that the whole thing could be made up. She might not be pregnant at all. If she wanted to pull something like this off, what better way but fake the typical bodily reactions? Nopony would be the wiser. The only thing I can’t comprehend about such a theory is why my friend would do something like that in the first place?

I feel an urge to speak to the poor colt more than ever. If anypony’s been fooled the most, it’s him. I go out and head to the barn, avoiding Apple Bloom. I look for him near the stables and I hear voices. One of them belongs to Cheerilee. I turn the corner and find them talking. He’s brushing a cow and smiling faintly. The mare is pointing at something in the stall.

“So that’s the gist of it?” Cheerilee says, seemingly intrigued by something. She has a gleam in her eye when she gets when she’s interested in what she’s hearing. Lots of teachers have that.

“I reckon it is. There’s not a whole lot to milking a cow. It’s all about how one treats the animal,” Wheat responds. The animal shakes suddenly and he shushes it.

I clear my throat and approach them. He turns around. “Hello, you two. What are you up to?” I say.

“I wanted to know more about how the farm works,” Cheerilee says. “It’s kind of fun to learn about it in person rather than in books.”

“May I talk to Wheat in private for a moment?” I ask her.

“Sure.” She goes into the field, probably to gaze at the animals some more. I look at the colt and I can’t help but feel sympathetic. Suddenly I have no idea what’s going on and I doubt everything I’ve been told. I can’t resist looking at him in a new light.

“Can I help you with anything?” Strangely, I sense something sweet about him. His words. They’re always so kind. I must have never listened before because I had always suspected him of being a bad pony. What a pity.

“I don’t think so. I’ve come to tell you something important about Apple Bloom that you must know.”

He doesn’t take it well when I tell him that Apps might not be pregnant. He throws his hat to the ground and kicks the door to a stall. Then he does what I hadn’t expected. He starts talking. Wheat had never been gone far from his home before he went to Ponyville. He lives west, in the hills. There, his mother and father have a corn field and settled down there years ago. He grew up with few ponies as neighbors and liked it. But talking to ponies never came easy to him. Ponies liked to take advantage of him, to lie and expect him to believe everything they say. He never got exact change or ponies told him make up things just to test his intelligence. Sometimes he got the better of them and sometimes he didn’t.

But then he met the Apples. They were different than the others but so familiar to him. They were honorable and decent folk. He ended up taking special trips just to help out the family and to learn how they did things. It was great at first but he could tell that the younger filly, Apple Bloom, looked at him in a certain way. He thought that she probably saw him as a potential mate since she first laid eyes on him. He tried to help out around the farm but it became more uncomfortable with her staring. Then staring became an incidental brush against his flank or kind words about his hard working muscles. She would give him apple pies to take home with him and flattering words to think about. At least those were good at first. But she wanted more and she was going to draw him closer day by day.

It was the night of the fall rodeo when the ponies celebrated the end of season with plenty of outdoor festivities. It was night and like the other stallions, Wheat was going to drink a bit and enjoy the company of others. This rodeo was hosted on the Apple farm. Applejack put most of the stallions to shame with her rope skills. With his head in a daze from all that drinking and excitement, it was easy for somepony like Apple Bloom to make her move. It was in the loft of the red barn. The filly doesn’t even need to remind him of it. He still recalls that night and his head hurts in anger. She was in total control then just like she is now. He’s always lying down and letting others walk over him because he’s too naïve to do anything about it. Just like he was on his back and the filly dominating him from above.

It’s difficult but I manage to convince Wheat to not rush to the barn and confront Apps right away. I tell him that he should continue to brush the animals and calm down. It won’t do any good to be rash. If Apps is allowed to run away in the middle of the night, we won’t be able to confront her real problems. Until we are able to get her family to understand things, Apps must think that the wedding is still going to happen tomorrow, even if it isn’t.

I stay up late and make some new sweets. I put them in the refrigerator to turn cold overnight. While that’s happening, I think about Apps. She was one of the first to believe in me and my special talent. She is my first true friend after all. I can’t fail to repay that. I don’t know what’s wrong with her but I’m going to try my best to find out. I know she’s not a bad pony. She’s just ill, a sickness that’s just in her head. I have to believe that it’s something that will pass even if we can’t see what’s wrong. I turn off the kitchen light and go quietly into the bedroom. Apps has dozed off by now and I look at her sadly as I step into bed. She looks so peaceful and beautiful that it seems so strange to know that her mind might be a tempest of confusion.

The day is hectic tomorrow morning. Apps and everypony gets up early. The Threshers and Apples converse in a good mood with the ceremony only hours away. My friends and I are supposed to be Apps’ bridesmaids. But I’m avoiding her. I slip away from the house while things are getting set up and I walk off into the field alone, far enough so that I don’t hear the sounds of pony voices or even animals. It’s quiet and the wind is mild but cool. I lie down in the grass for a long time it seems. I open my bag. I’m feeling hungry so I start eating one of my treats. It’s one of the apple flavored rice cakes. It’s so dense, rich and sugary. As I eat it, I think deeply about the Apple Family. I already understand why Wheat has done what he did. Guys like him don’t like admitting that they’ve been taken advantage of. They’re supposed to be strong and always there for their female companions. But although, Apps comes from a farm family too, they’re not the same in every way. What does Apps have to prove? It’s not strength, that’s for sure. I can’t figure it out. I’m frustrated and I stare at the clouds until my eyes water.

I then daydream about the past. When we used to play with dolls, Apps and Applejack were a lot younger. They had fewer cares in the world and were concerned with whatever was coming next. Everything seemed expendable and to us, life as we knew it would last forever. Whenever we would go out and play, I would pass through their front door. There would be that same old picture of the two ponies. Their parents, staring forward as if watching over their family. They seemed to do it even after death and the colors in the picture faded. I hadn’t thought about it much these last years. So much of the Apple Sisters’ lives really began anew when their parents died. When we were young, I never knew Applejack as being possessive of her sister.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It’s time. It’s only felt like minutes out here. I stand and shake grass off my belly and hooves. I walk towards the house. There’s no going back now. I won’t wear any dress. This is not a time of beauty or vows.

I see them all. What few family members were there had broken off into two groups. The Threshers on the left and the Apples on the right. They were all standing save for Granny Smith in her wheelchair. A hearing aid extends out of her ear like a flower. Wheat is wearing some nice leather farm clothes and he, like his father, have wide hats on. A pony from town is there to officiate. Apps has gone up to the front too and all the others stare at her. For such a sad turn of events, she still looks beautiful. I wish it didn’t have to go to waste.

I come just in time. As is customary, the officiate asks if anypony had any reason to oppose the union of the two ponies before them. Usually this means silence but not today. I stand between the families and, raising my voice, proclaim that I have something to say.

Apps manages to rip her gaze from Wheat. She notices me and I can read the shock on her face. The ponies around me are confused and Mr. Thresher is frowning badly.

“This marriage can’t be allowed. Apple Bloom has manipulated everything in order to make this happen. The colt, Wheat Thresher, has been roped into it against his will. It is the honest truth.”

I don’t think I’ve been so nervous in years save for my own proposal in spring. The ponies start to talk. I can only wonder how horrible they see me as.

Apps starts to throw a fit. A vein in her forehead pulses. “Your jealousy is just getting out of hoof, Twist! Why would I do the things you’ve accused me of doing?”

“What in the hay is going on around here?” Applejack says. She steps between us, a confused grimace on her face which is shadowed by her hat, a red thing with pretty pink lacy trim.

“What’s going on is that Twist wants to get in the way of my newfound love,” Apps says, pointing a hoof at me.

“There’s not a whole lot of love between you two. Wheat was going along with it because of the story of that foal and it doesn’t even exist!”

Apps face flushes. She is growing embarrassed and her voice erratic. “You’re stupid!” she spits. “Stupid! Why are you doing this to me? I thought you were my friend!” She uses her teeth and tears the shoulder straps of her dress and shakes it off. She rips off her veil and everything else falls to the ground. She then bolts away from the group, screaming, towards the field. I chase after her in haste. I can’t let her run away now. I have to stop her. No matter how disgusted I may be at her behavior, I am her friend even if she can’t see it. The others will stay behind and try to get the others up to speed. I am sure they’ll listen.

I may have hoped that she would stay there and admit to what is going on but that was probably naïve of me. What I had done wasn’t enough on its own but I have to believe that I can talk to her now about her feelings. I just have to catch up to her. I follow her loud voice as it dampens at the edge of the woods. She’s nowhere to be seen but I plunge in anyway. The place is a mess of shadow and light and dust. It’s hard to stay oriented but I can hear the echoes of her voice not far off.
I pant and take in the earthy air. My hooves crunch on the needles and leaves. As I continue, I’m struck in the head by something hard. I reach for where it hit me with my hoof and prickles of pain spreads across my scalp. I don’t cry out though but only hiss quietly. I look down at the pinecone and know she’s up above me. I leap onto the nearest branch and climb up the tree, getting several meters up on a large branch. I yell her name.

I see her, a splash of red like an apple at the next tree over. I yell at her to stop but she ignores me. Carefully, I balance myself on the branch and jump to the one below. It sways from my weight. It might look scary but I know my way around a tree well enough. She sees me and goes around the trunk like a squirrel evading one’s sight. I try to make my way there, taking care not to fall. She’s always been better at me but I know I can catch up. Yet, when I reach the other side, I don’t see her. I scan my sides and I don’t think she’s gone to the other trees. Suddenly the branch shakes and I start to slip. My heart scrambles to pump blood through my veins, to give me enough strength as I hurry to keep my footing.

“You couldn’t leave well enough alone!” Apps shouts. I hear her below. She’s bucking the tree. I can feel each thump on the trunk from her powerful hind legs. “I can’t believe you’re taking this away from me! We Apples never lose ponies! Don’t you understand?”

“Stop it, Apple Bloom!” I start to fear that she’s actually trying to knock me off. I glance at the nearest branch and kick off the one I’m barely holding on to. I grab the branch, my hooves trying to grip it despite there being lots of green moss on it. But I spot a vine or something within reach and bite it. I strain my muscles and pull myself up. My lower body and hooves are all sticky and discolored from the climbing. I’m sure they match the top of my head now.

I see her going through the woods pretty fast. I leap down into a pile of leaves and run in pursuit.

“Apple Bloom, you can’t keep every last pony in your life! It’s not possible! You have to let some ponies go!” I say between deep breaths.

I keep chasing her and we reach a narrow but swift creek going downhill. The water’s as deep as my chest at least. Apps runs across a fallen log then kicks the end of it afterwards so it tumbles down into the water. I stop and look at her. I hate chasing ponies like this. My sides are sore and I’m sweating all over.

“What would you know about any of this? What kind of family can you have? You’ll never have foals of your own!” Apps says angrily. She takes a narrow path up a scrubby hill. I scan the area for any way to get across the water. There’s a small vine draping from a tall branch above. I jump on a rock. I prepare myself. I guess I already did this once so doing it twice isn’t a big deal. I take the vine in my teeth and use it to swing across. It’s gross tasting and it breaks, sending me tumbling on the dirt but on the other side at least.

I feel insulted, upset and tired but I know this can’t last much longer. I run up the hill. Apps is there, at the edge of a steep drop. To her side, a boulder strewn hilltop looks far too dangerous to climb. I know she has to be as tired as I am.

I approach her firmly but slowly enough to not present a reason for her to run even more. “You have to stop running. You have to wake up to the truth. All this is just you living in a bad dream but it can’t go on forever,” I say.

Her face contorts in pain. “But I don’t know how!”

“I already told you what you need to do. You have to learn how to let ponies go. Everything you did…faking a pregnancy, trying to marry a colt you have barely known…it’s all an act of desperation. You never learned how to accept loss, Apple Bloom. Your sister didn’t either and she passed it down to you. Your fears and your worries that you can’t protect one another. Your parents died so early but you and your siblings still see them in your hearts and in your house. It’s why when you see somepony you want, you can never let go of them.”

For whatever reason, it seems this has finally sunk into her head. Trapped and with nowhere to go, she is now face to face with an inescapable reality. Still, she reacts, and it shakes her to her very core. She tries to swing her hoof at me wildly but I grab it with my hooves. She smacks me with her other hoof, each strike weakening as she cries. Her body soon ceases and only her mouth and throat move still by the sound of her sadness. I hold her close and stroke her long mane. I know it is over. For the first time in a long time, Apple Bloom has understood the meaning of loss.

---

The Apples are able to grasp what happened for the most part. I know it’s difficult to understand things. To them, it must have come suddenly and without warning. I promise to be there for all of it. I can see the regret that Applejack carries and I feel bad for her as I watch her pack up her wagon. We’re all heading home this morning. I finished speaking with her, telling her what I thought should happen with Apple Bloom. She just needs rest and a lot of care. Celestia knows I’ve been down that road.

I look over at Cheerilee as she converses with Wheat Thresher. She is very comfortable with him and whatever they’re talking about makes her laugh. I like that. I just hope that it didn’t get in the way of her packing. We can’t be delayed.

I head into the house and return to the bedroom. Apps is sitting silently on the bed, her hooves in her lap. Her mane is styled proper with black ribbons. I take my last piece of luggage and look at her.

“Are you ready?” I say.

“Yeah. I suppose I am,” she says. She stares at the floor.

“I know you’re going to be alright, Apple Bloom. I have faith in you.”

She looks up and makes a sweet smile. “Thanks….do you think that things will change for the better?”

“What do you mean?”

“About loss and all that. I never lost anything as important as a pony before. How do you know I can look forward to a normal relationship?”

I put the bag down and sit next to her. I take her hoof in mine. “You already have your friends that you never have to worry about losing.”
“Is that even the same thing? I’ve always wanted you guys in my life. Kind of how I foolishly wanted Wheat.”

I giggle. “Just remember that we foolishly wanted you.” She joins me and the girlish sounds reverberate in the room. She then puts her hooves around me and hugs me tightly. I love the smell of her hair. It’s sweeter than this whole place.

“I still remember that,” she says.

As I hold her I remember the days when we used to play together by ourselves. Just the two of us. We shared most of our lives together. It was only after we got our cutie marks that things changed. If we could go back to that just one more time then maybe that could help her to take the next step after acceptance. A touch of simplicity and a love between friends.

“Hey, Apple Bloom.”

“Yes?”

“I think that when we return to Ponyville, I want you to come to my house. I would love it if you talked to Sweetie.”

“Huh….Sweetie Drops?”

“Yeah…I think it will be great for all three of us to get to know each other better.”

She breaks the hug and looks in my eyes. “But I already see her around town.”

I touch her cheek with my hoof. “Trust me. This will be special. Once you’ve tasted Peppermint Drops, I promise that loss will be the last thing on your mind.”